by Jill Winters
"Wait up. Where are you going so fast?" Rick called, jogging lightly to catch up with her at the elevators.
"I'm going home," she said simply, jamming her fingers on the button several times.
"Listen, about what you said, you know, about how you're over everything? Well, I just wanted to tell you that I'm not surprised." Suspiciously—cautiously—she tipped her face up and studied him. "Hell, you've probably got some other guy by now, huh?"
"It's been three days!"
The elevator dinged and she hopped on. Unsurprisingly, Rick followed. He seemed intent to make up with her, to try to act like nothing had happened, but something had happened—and she was still damn mad about it!
Once the doors sealed shut, Rick turned to face her. "Then you haven't forgotten me yet," he said, coming closer. Soon he was standing only inches away, enveloping the space between them in his heat.
Looking up at him levelly, she forced herself not to show how flustered his nearness made her... how excited. "What do you want?"
"I want you," he said softly, gruffly, flickering his blue eyes down to her mouth.
The admission sent her pulse skittering wildly. No, she couldn't get sucked into this again, no way. "Let me explain how dating works," she said, inching back to put more distance between them. "A man asks a woman out, a man is lucky to go out with that woman to begin with, I might add..." Rick nodded along like this was a great education, all the while matching each step she took backward with another one forward. "And after a nice evening together, they say good night, and if the man says he'll call her, he actually does call her."
Okay, so it was an idealistic view of dating, but it was the story she was sticking to.
"Wait. Back up," Rick said, trespassing on more of her personal space until her butt nudged against the back wall of the elevator. There was nowhere left to go—she was trapped between the wall and Rick and right now, she didn't know which was stronger. Her breath hitched in her throat and her mouth ran dry as Rick put both hands on the wall, bracketing her in with his arms. Then he looked down at her and silkily he said, "You skipped over the best part."
"W—what?" she mumbled, having momentarily forgotten the conversation leading up to their intimately close quarters.
"Best part of the date," he said, his voice low and purring. "The part where they say good night. And they kiss." He brought his body up even more snugly against hers. "And sometimes... they get naked."
Swallowing hard, Gretchen licked her lips and struggled to get her breath back. "N—no. No kissing on the first date."
She was about to add "generally speaking," when he injected, "We kissed. In my car, remember?"
"That was technically our second date," she said, counting the espresso place near TCN as the first.
"And on our next one, we got naked. Remember?" Grinning wolfishly, he let out a whistle and murmured, "Now that was hot."
Her heart was pounding in her ears; her palms were starting to sweat. "Those were special circumstances," she said in her own defense.
"So it was special, huh?" he challenged. "Well, if it was special, then how could you have moved on already?" He pressed himself against her and she nearly melted. Suddenly her chest was so tight she could barely breathe. White-hot lust and attraction all but crackled between them.
Flattened against him, she was overwhelmed by his height, his strength, his muscle, and heat and bone, his power to seduce her so easily.
"I meant it was special in the moment," she said, even as she traitorously rose up on her toes to try to feel Rick's thick, engorged shaft against her crotch, "and now the moment's passed."
"So it's not special anymore? Well, if it's not special, then what is it?"
"It's... crap," she replied, trying to think of some way to salvage the tough act, but it was a pathetic attempt and he wasn't deterred.
Lowering his head, Rick ran his hands down the wall until, just like that, he jerked her lower body against his. Suddenly he had his hands snaked around her waist and her head angled back, her face tipped up, her lips waiting for a kiss, even as she whispered, "The moment's gone. We can never get it back."
His voice was rough and sexy when he said, "It feels like we're kind of having one right now." And then he purred hotly in her ear, "God, you're so warm...." She could barely balance on her toes, but she didn't have to because Rick's body was pressed fully and firmly against hers, sandwiching her between him and the wall so she couldn't slip if she tried. They were flattened together, his groin hard and hers aching; heat soaked her panties and sweat broke out on her back and neck. "You know, you can kiss me if you want."
"No," she whispered stubbornly. Rick pushed his hips forward, driving his arousal hard against her. She bit back a moan... and tilted her hips and pushed back.
"Just a kiss, apple girl," he said, his voice little more than a thick rasp. The sweetness of the words, whatever they meant, stole her breath. As he dragged his lips against her cheek, then down to her neck, blood raged in her veins. Sexual heat choked the air like a humid cloud sucking up all the oxygen. "Kiss me, "he urged.
"No..." she whispered.
"Okay, no tongue," he bargained softly. "How about that?"
"No tongue?" she repeated incredulously. "Then what's the point?"
He chuckled at that and she gave up fighting him. "C'mere, baby," he murmured and covered her mouth with his.
At first the kiss was slow and wet and searching, his tongue tangling seductively with hers, slicking inside her mouth and licking flames up between her legs. Her fingers slid up the front of his shirt, underneath his suit jacket, and up to his broad, solid shoulders. He groaned, uttering something imperceptible, before one hand tightened on her waist and the other came up to cup her neck, massaging it as he deepened the kiss, making love to her mouth.
Lust roared through her. With a moan, she kissed him back and writhed against him to get more, to get even closer. She ran her fingers over his cock, which was impossibly hard and full inside his pants. When she tried to stroke him, Rick grunted his arousal and pushed his hips into hers again. She nearly cried out from the sensation—for things to come. And before she knew it, Rick's hands had moved down to her bottom, cupping it possessively, squeezing it.
They kissed aggressively. Hungrily. It was a blurred frenzy of carnal desire, and Gretchen didn't stop to question how much time had passed or her own savage behavior.
Her eyes slid closed as Rick bit her neck lightly, then traced a hot wet line down her throat. Greedily, Gretchen gripped Rick's hair, wordlessly urging him to do it again. As he worked his open, scalding-hot mouth on her neck, he fondled her breasts through her T-shirt. Fluidly, his hands slipped underneath her shirt and bra, and his warm, roughened palms cupped her bare breasts, her nipples. When he started to rub them, she moaned weakly, feeling too aroused to stand up for much longer. She was nearly limp with arousal, wanting to sag against the floor and have him just take her there.
Then his fingers were pulling down her fly and sliding right inside her underwear, and she broke the kiss to gasp, to catch her breath, and in doing so, gave him access to her cheek. He kissed his way across it, moving her hair out of the way so he could run his tongue along the rim of her ear, and ran his fingertip lightly over her opening. A hot ripple ran through her as she tried to rock against his finger, which only teased her with its gentle strokes. Sweltering and sticky, her body trembling, she would've begged him to go deeper if she'd had the strength, if she could form the words, but she couldn't seem to manage it, so she just rubbed his cock harder with her hand, more urgently.
With a guttural sound of desire, Rick slid his finger inside her, making her gasp again, loll her head restlessly against the wall of the elevator, waiting for more. But he didn't give her more; he withdrew and then only teased her opening. Running his finger back and forth over it, gently, breathtakingly. Gretchen thought she could die of the anticipation, the arousal.
She buried her frustration in another
searing kiss. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, her body arched against his, as their mouths continued to assail each other, their kisses becoming rougher, wetter, more desperate, more frenzied, and it was too much, it had to stop. If they didn't, they'd end up doing it right there—on the elevator and it would be unbelievably reckless and irresponsible. She worked here, for pete's sake!
But just when she was about to put a halt to all this madness, Rick moved his hand to palm her whole crotch, heat from his hand seeping into her sensitive flesh. Her knees almost buckled. She brought a hand down to his wrist to still him before he took this any further, but it was too late. In an instant, he sank to his knees, and she hadn't had a chance to question him before he stripped her pants and thong down in one motion. "No, we can't," she whispered, then groaned shamelessly when Rick gave her a thorough, open—mouthed kiss between her legs. No, he couldn't—not here—this was insanity now.
But he did. Ardently, he pulled her baggy pants and her underwear off of her entirely and left them pooled on the floor. Then he gripped the back of her thighs, lifting her and bringing her legs around, to rest on his shoulders. As he caressed her bottom, he continued to kiss and lick her intimately, until he angled to suck her hottest spot. She ran her fingers through his hair, telling herself that she'd pull his head away, but it felt so good, she didn't stop him. Instead, she found herself clutching him to her, all but pulling his hair; the closer she got to that elusive climax, the harder she pulled.
What had happened to her? She'd always been a nice girl up until now. Now she was out of control, desperate for more.
"Wait," she breathed. "Rick... we have to stop."
Raggedly, he muttered, "I want to make you come," then sucked on that sweet spot again before sliding two fingers inside her. Just like that, she erupted in a shuddering orgasm that took her completely by surprise.
"Ohh..." she groaned, savoring the rippling sensations that pouted up her body as Rick rode them out with his fingers. "Oh... God..."
Murmuring to her, he pressed suctioning kisses to her belly while still stroking her with his hand. Then he soothed her thighs as he lifted her off of him, set her feet on the floor, and rose up off his knees. Sliding his fingers into her hair, he pressed his forehead to hers. His eyes looked dazed with passion. "I'm so turned on right now," he rasped.
Speechless and suddenly emotional, Gretchen hugged him. Rick folded her into him, holding her close. When she finally spoke she said, "I'm so embarrassed."
He pulled back, concerned. "Why?"
"Because we're in an elevator," she said softly, her lips against his shirt. "And because I work here." Abruptly, she realized her precarious position and bent to pick up her pants and thong. "Just look at me," she mumbled, more to herself.
"Believe me, I am," Rick said with blatant sexuality.
"I'm serious," she said, even as a hot blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Once she'd shimmied back into her clothes, she didn't feel as vulnerable.
"Oh, hell," Rick said and stroked her cheek. "I'm sorry. I got carried away."
He got carried away?
"First things first," he added, and pressed the "door open" button. Sometime when they'd been making out they'd made it to the ground floor. Had the doors sprung open and they hadn't even realized it? They must have; opened and then after a few moments idle, closed again. How could she have been so lost in passion, so overwhelmed by desire, that she'd been so oblivious to her surroundings? Yet... the thought that Rick had been, too, was extremely exciting.
He backed away from her and wiped the back of his hand along his mouth lightly. "Let's get out of here," he said, taking her hand.
The lobby was dark and deserted. "Oh, damn!" Gretchen said, as they passed the reception desk.
"What's the matter?" he said, slipping his fingers through hers, interlocking them in an affectionate lover's gesture.
"I just remembered I left my sweater and jacket upstairs."
"Here," he said, taking off his jacket and draping it over her shoulders; it was huge on her, which for some reason made her smile. She was melting, falling into it again. Ob, please let this be the right thing to do..."C'mon," he said, leading the way, then abruptly, he stopped. Quizzically, she looked up at him, and here, by the glass doors, there was shadowy darkness, but she could make out his face better. Not that it mattered because his expression was unreadable.
Gently, he tugged on her hand, bringing her down with him to sit on the lime-green sofa that lined the wall.
"Okay. Listen up," he said, his voice firm and authoritative, and she found herself mesmerized by him right now, by his potency, his commanding, powerful presence, and she thought: God, what's happened to me? Since when was authoritative' a turn-on?
"I'm sorry," he said. "I fucked up." Valid—boy, this night was getting better and better. "But you have to understand, a lot of women are really into Brett. Well, not him necessarily, but his whole image. They wanna be on his arm at all the parties and big events and..."
What was he getting at? Gretchen wondered. She knew all this already.
"I misunderstood what happened that night. I guess from the beginning I didn't know how to read you, if you were interested in Brett or not. Like you yourself said the other night, most girls have a crush on him. I wondered if maybe you were using me to get to him."
"What?" she said, genuinely shocked by this. Then she realized how loud she'd just been and dropped her voice. "Are you serious?"
"It's happened from time to time," Rick stated, but Gretchen was still flummoxed. Using Rick to get to Brett? Please! Rick was twice the man his brother was, and she didn't just mean his height. The last things Gretchen fantasized about at the end of the day were celebrity parties and the paparazzi. She was too busy fantasizing about having enough time for a long, hot bubble bath.
Didn't he realize that about her?
"Me? Interested in Brett?" she said. "Instead of you? You must be insane!"
Grinning, Rick said, "Okay, you sold me."
Whoops! She supposed she had sounded kind of emphatic there.
Well, there went playing it cool. But they were beyond that now. Biting her lip, she said, "No, I just meant..."
"That's okay. Keep it as it is." With that, he reached over. Cupping her face in one hand, he leaned in to kiss her. The instant their lips met heat rose between them and her chest swelled with longing. Rick slowly licked inside her mouth, kissing her softly but passionately, letting his lips linger on hers as his arm wrapped around her waist and urged her closer.
"We... we should go..." she managed, her voice breathless even to her own her ears.
"All right," he said, taking her hand and tugging her to her feet.
"Let's get out of here." A taxi ride later, they were in Rick's apartment.
Chapter 27
He didn't bother to give her the tour. The place was pitch-dark, with only a hint of light streaming from a partially opened door. "What's that?" Gretchen asked, suddenly feeling nervous. Rick came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against him.
"What's what?" he murmured against her skin as he pushed her hair to the side and placed suctioning kisses down her neck. Then he must've realized she meant the light, and he said, "Oh, that's my bedroom." She swallowed, shutting her eyes, dropping her head back as he ran his tongue along her ear.
His bedroom. What she'd experienced so far of Rick's ability to please a woman was enough to make her legs wobbly, her knees weak, and a breathy sigh spill from her lips.
He tunneled his fingers through her hair, gripped her tight, and used his other hand to spin her around. Then his mouth claimed hers with a kiss that was wet and feral, blatantly sexual, and she responded with a keening moan and clawed his shirt to hold her upright—or to tear it off—to have more of him. And just like that, he pushed his jacket off her shoulders—vaguely she heard it hitting the floor—and he hitched her up, pulling her legs apart to straddle his body as he walked them
toward the light.
Feverishly, she clung to him, kissing his lips, his cheek, his jaw, his throat, anywhere she could. He moved quickly, and before she could notice much about the room, she ended up flat on her back on his bed, the rumpled, unmade covers bunching underneath her.
They rolled around until they'd stripped each other, and only after Rick landed on top of her, completely naked, did Gretchen have a realization. "Wait!" she said, the weight of what she was about to do hitting her.
That startled him. He looked up from between her breasts, panting, his hair already messy, and his shoulders tight. In that moment, he was just such a beautiful, powerful animal; it was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice thick and gravelly with arousal.
"Nothing... it's just..." Squirming, she tried to move out from under him; he pushed up on his arm to give her room, and she managed to shimmy up toward the headboard, until Rick's face was more at her knees. In kind, he sat up more, or knelt, and her eyes went straight to his erection, which was huge and mouthwatering. For a few moments, she couldn't drag her gaze away. Instinctively, her mouth curved open. She was hungry for him, craving him—fearing him because he was so hung she didn't see how she could take it when he—
"Oh, come here," he groaned, pulling her down as he brought himself up. Now they were lying snugly alongside each other, and he was stroking her spine with his fingertips.
Um... what was she going to say again?
Raising his eyebrows questioningly at her, he waited, but when she didn't say anything else, when she leaned over and crushed her mouth on his, he rolled back on top of her, kissing her with unrestrained hunger. She was lost, drowning in disarmingly erotic sensations, and the only thing that snapped her back into focus was the feel of his thick shaft between her legs.