God, she was beautiful. For one second she was stripped down, bare, and gorgeous, without any of her armor – and it made me feel like she would die without the one thing I could give her. But I also hated that those moments came so rarely, because I lived for them now.
“Please kiss me,” she begged.
I covered her mouth with mine as I went at her with everything I had.
“Yes!” she cried, then pulled away to shout, “Fuck! Harder!”
I gripped her thigh and gave her everything I had, completely lost in her moans and cries, smell and taste. Her sounds got higher and her skin was drenched.
“Fuck,” I gasped out, closing my eyes, letting the moment overtake me.
“Ah!” she cried out, then stilled, holding on for the ride.
I thrust into her again, my body jerking as I finally spilled inside of her.
“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, sliding out of her before slowly lowering my body back down on hers and kissing her collarbone.
My back started to cool, and my body buzzed with exhaustion.
I swallowed, trying to catch my breath. She was stunning.
“What are you doing to me?” I asked, breathless.
Her hands came up, threading through my hair and grazing down my neck. She trailed sweet kisses across my cheek and then wrapped her arms around my neck, damp with sweat, and held me in place.
But when I tried to arch up to look down at her, she tightened her hold, not releasing me.
“I can’t look at you and say this,” she said quietly, her soft voice sounding sad.
I stilled and averted my gaze, ignoring the apprehension building in my chest.
“My track record isn’t good,” she started. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never wanted anyone again and again,” she admitted. “But when I think about you, I get excited.”
I stayed, listening, even though a smile started to spread my lips.
“You feed on me like food,” she went on, “and it makes me happy, because you exhaust me to where I can’t think.” She placed a light kiss on my neck, sliding her hands down my back. “You like that I’m difficult, and God, I love your body, Tyler. I definitely want more.”
She started breathing hard again, and I felt the hair on my arms stand up when she ran her feet up the backs of my legs and began sucking on my neck and kissing my ear.
My eyes closed. “Don’t,” I groaned. “I think my dick is dead.”
I felt her shake with laughter beneath me.
“Let’s go get in the shower,” she whispered. “We’ll see if your dick likes my mouth as much as my pussy.”
FIFTEEN
EASTON
I stared out the window, seeing the early-morning joggers hop over streetcar tracks and puddles glistening with light from oncoming headlights.
This was the time of day when I liked the city most.
Predawn, before the sun burned off the blue-gray clouds, when the city was heavy with the memory of whatever fun had been had the night before but quiet and peaceful as most still slept.
My favorite time.
“Stop looking at me,” I chastised as I gazed out the window, inhaling his scent as he sat next to me, trying to keep the smile off my face.
“No,” he shot back.
I wasn’t used to someone else being forefront in my mind, but I was always hyper-aware of him now. It kind of sucked. In an attempt to calm myself, I smoothed my hands down my wrinkled skirt and pushed up the sleeves of his white button-down, feeling completely out of order.
“Stop fidgeting,” he commanded.
I turned my head to look at him, arching an eyebrow.
“You’re all sleek in your pressed suit,” I pointed out, “and I’m doing the walk of shame in no makeup and men’s clothes.”
He was taking me home before he headed into the office. Christian was due back later today, and although he’d told me I could sleep in and he’d have Patrick drive me home later, I didn’t feel right about being there without him. I’d wanted to go home last night, but he’d talked me into staying again.
Today, though, I had work to catch up on, and he had a company to get back to now that the rain had subsided.
He smiled over at me and reached up, pushing the button to raise the privacy glass between Patrick and us.
“You’re stunning,” he said in all seriousness, giving me that look of his that made me hot. “And you shouldn’t be embarrassed. I’m lucky people can’t see the scratch marks on my back,” he joked.
It made me laugh as an image of the marks on his back in the shower this morning flashed through my mind.
Butterflies fluttered through my chest, and I released the breath I’d been holding. Maybe that was the ticket. Picture him naked, and he wasn’t so formidable.
“If you’d like,” he started in his smooth voice, “I can offer you an opportunity to rebuild your self-esteem.”
I cocked my head, peering over at him. “Oh?”
He nodded. “I’m hosting a luncheon at the house this Sunday, and I want you there,” he stated, and then blinked. “I would like you there,” he corrected, as if remembering he wasn’t addressing an employee.
I shook my head, even as a grin escaped. The gesture thrilled me, though I would never admit it to him. I looked back out the window, lifting my chin.
It didn’t unnerve me that he wanted to see more of me. But it did unnerve me that I liked that he wanted to see more of me.
But at his house? During the day, with other people there? If I were social – which I wasn’t – it would still be awkward. And make what we were doing even less tactful.
“Tyler, we can’t —”
“Not together,” he interrupted, reassuring me. “But I like to see you and not be able to touch you. It adds to the fun.”
When I turned toward him, expecting to see a mischievous smile, instead I saw a serious, even expression that made me rethink my smart-ass comeback. His eyes were pinned to mine, and I turned forward again, taking a deep breath and resisting the urge to crawl into his lap.
I cleared my throat. “What kind of luncheon is it?”
“Networking,” he answered. “The city elite, a few politicians…” He trailed off, sounding bored. “Christian will be there.”
“Thanks.” I shook my head. “But I think —”
He cut me off. “You can bring a friend, if you like. Or your brother?”
I sat up straight, steeling my jaw.
I didn’t want to decline the invitation, but I knew I had to. Even if we weren’t romantically involved, it was a conflict of interest to attend parties at a student’s home.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” he teased. “I’m sure you can handle the company.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
“I’m not nervous,” I argued, turning my head to regard him again. “And I know what you’re trying to do.”
He thought I couldn’t handle myself around his crowd. I’d played tennis with movie stars in the stands.
The car slowed to a stop, and I glanced outside to see that we had arrived in front of my house. Leaves and fronds from a few palm trees in the neighborhood littered the ground, but the rest of the house seemed to be fine, despite my lack of shutters. The ground was still wet, the light sprinkle still falling rippling the puddles that had accumulated on the ground.
I picked up my blouse from next to me on the seat and moved to get out, but he caught my arms, stopping me gently.
“Noon,” he said softly, not really demanding but not really asking, either. “I’ll leave you alone the rest of the week, so we can both get some work done,” he explained, taking his hand away and sitting back, “but if you’re not there, I’ll come to get you myself.”
Despite my best intentions, I smirked, rising to his challenge. Then I leaned over the console and placed an innocent kiss on his cheek.
Whispering against his skin, I teased, “I love it when you play predator. It’s so cute.”
But then I yelped when he grabbed me under the arms and dragged me over to his lap, wrapping his arms around me and cutting off my breath with a kiss as he held me tight.