“Sarah.”
“Then you really would be putting me in danger, and that’s not what a friend does.”
“Sarah.”
“Kensey.”
I huffed. “Fine. We pack.”
She smirked. “We pack. But first, we fuck up this security system just in case the bastard is watching.”
As Sarah predicted, the packing didn’t take long at all. Of course, it would have taken a lot longer if I’d packed like I desperately wanted to pack—carefully and neatly with plenty of tissue paper and other protective layers for my breakables. Sarah wouldn’t allow it. She hounded me like a drill Sergeant, wanting the job done fast.
I notified my landlord that I was leaving and that I’d come back for my furnishings in a couple of days. As he was hoping to sell the building to land developers as soon as possible, he was pretty pleased to hear it.
Making use of both my car and hers, Sarah and I were able to move my stuff to her building in just one trip. At that point, we sort of just slumped on her sofa. I would have unpacked but, well, the place was back to being Clutter Central and there was nowhere to actually put anything.
“It’s almost seven. What time are you going to Blake’s tonight?” Sarah asked.
My eyes widened. “Blake. Shit.”
“What?”
“He plans to send Rossi to pick me up around eight. I need to let him know where I’ll be.” I whipped out my phone and called Blake.
It rang a few times before he answered, “Hey, baby.” Low music played in the background, and there was a low purring that made me think he was driving.
“Hey, I’m just calling to say that if Rossi still plans to drop me off at your apartment, he should pick me up from Sarah’s.”
“Rossi won’t be bringing you to me today,” he said. “I’m coming to pick you up myself.”
“Oh,” I said, brightening a little. “Okay.”
“I’m on my way now. What’s Sarah’s address?”
I rattled it off and then said, “See you soon.” Ending the call, I puffed out a breath.
Sarah looked at me. “How do you think he’ll take the news of yet another break-in?”
I bit my lip and looked at her, my expression grim.
She nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
A short time later, a knock came at Sarah’s door. She looked through the peephole, gave me a reassuring nod, and then opened it wide. “Hi, Blake. Come in.”
He slowly stalked inside in that self-assured way he had. His eyes instantly tracked to me, and a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Hey. You ready?”
With a nod, I rose from the sofa and crossed to him.
His brow creased at the sight of the suitcase and boxes. “You moving, Sarah?”
“No,” I said, clearing my throat. “That would be me.”
He did a slow blink. “You’re moving in here? Why, what’s brought this on?”
“You need to show him,” Sarah told me.
Nodding, I pulled the envelope out of my purse and handed it to him. “These are the pictures you wanted.”
Blake reached out and took them. “The pictures he sent you?”
“Yeah.”
Blake slid the photos out of the envelope, face hardening as he skimmed through them. “Good with a camera, isn’t he? You didn’t tell me he’d drawn X’s on my face.”
“He hadn’t.”
Blake’s eyes flicked to mine. “What?”
“He hadn’t. They weren’t like this. Not then.”
The air thickened with a barely leashed anger. “He broke in again?”
I nodded and told him our suspicions about how Smith might have circumvented my security and, worse, even turned that system against me. “Sarah’s right, I can’t stay there. I don’t like the idea of staying with her when it could bring him to her door, but this building has better security than mine.”
Blake stared at me, tension in every line of his body. “I’ll kill him.” He glanced around, eyes taking in each and every box, and dug out his cell phone. “Greg, meet me at Applegate Apartments on Reef Street, apartment 5D … No need. It won’t take long.”
“Why does Greg need to meet us here?” I asked once he ended his call.
“He owns a SUV.”
“And?”
“And it has a bigger trunk than my car has. We’ll need it to move all this.”
I felt my breathing speed up. “Where is it exactly that you want to take my stuff?”
“My place, obviously. Sarah’s security is good, yes, but mine is better. That fucker will never get in my apartment.”
I looked at him, incredulous. He couldn’t be serious. But he stared back at me, unmoving. I turned to my friend. “Sarah—”
She raised her hands, grinning. “I’ll be in the hall.”
I waited until she closed the door behind her before I calmly said, “Blake, I can’t move in with you—not even temporarily.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, even though you’re not asking me to officially move in with you, it’s still enough of a big deal that we’d be slamming on the acceleration pedal once again.” Not advisable. “For another thing, I gave up my apartment. Ended my tenancy. As Sarah pointed out, I’ve stayed there just because I don’t like change. I can afford something better. Safer. But I don’t know how long the apartment-hunt will take. It could be a fast process. It could be slow. In other words, if I said yes to your offer, I’d have no idea how long I’d be staying with you. And if we split, I’d be homeless.”
Tipping his head, he folded his arms. “Are you done looking for reasons why it’s a bad idea instead of simply looking at the situation as a whole?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me what I missed,” I muttered.
“As I said before, you’ll be safer at my place. There’s also plenty of room and, unlike here, no clutter or mess for you to have a hernia over.”
“Funny.”
“You spend every night at my place and wake up there every morning. The only time you’ve been spending at your apartment were the hours between the end of your shift and the time you came to me. I don’t see how spending those extra hours here with me will be a major deal.”
“Sharing living space with someone is hard. Spending it with someone you don’t yet know—who’s hot buttons, habits, and needs you’re only just beginning to learn—would be even harder. What we have is still new and fragile. We need to be careful not to push it.”
His eyes narrowed, perceptive as ever. “You think I’ll find you difficult to live with.”
“You heard me and my mom talking at dinner. It’s not easy to live with people like us.”
“You may have noticed that I like a tidy home.”
I bit my lip. “I think your cleaner is awesome. Truly awesome. Her work is like art. But …”
His expression turned thoughtful. “You’d find it hard to have someone else organize and clean your territory,” he realized.
“Are you getting how weird I am yet? I couldn’t even let my mother clean my room, which incidentally made her crazy. Sarah doesn’t care, she’s laidback about stuff like that. You’re many things, Blake, but you are not laidback.” I rested a hand on his hard chest. “Please don’t push me on this. I’m not ready to unleash the full extent of my craziness on you.”
He hooked his arm around my neck and drew me closer. “Baby, it won’t matter. I’m well and truly reeled in.” He pressed a soft, lingering kiss on my mouth. “Give it a trial run. Seven days.”
“You’re not hearing me. You think I’m exaggerating.”
“I am hearing you, and I’m not taking your words lightly. But I want you with me.” He kissed me again and gave my bottom lip a brief suck. “I don’t think I’ll find it so bad, but we won’t know without giving it a go. Trial run?”
I let out a long breath, shaking my head incredulously. “You’re crazy.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
&nbs
p; “But you’d have to tell your cleaner to stop, well, cleaning.”
“I’ll tell her to take the week off. Then, if you decide you’d rather stay with Sarah, I can just call her back to work.”
He had an answer for freaking everything.
“Give it a try.”
“Fine, but I still think you’re crazy.”
Greg showed up a few minutes later. The guy was by no means a smiler, but he had a tiny little grin on his face as he helped us move my stuff to the SUV. That grin widened when he helped us move it all from his SUV up to Blake’s apartment.
Finally, it was time to unpack. Just before disappearing to make some calls, Blake told me to put my stuff anywhere I liked; that nowhere was off bounds to me, and that I was free to move his things if they were in my way. He also made some drawer and wardrobe space for me in his walk-in closet.
I didn’t unpack everything, since there were things I wouldn’t need while there—like my dishware, pillow and duvet, and toaster, for example. I left them in their boxes, intending to ask Blake where I could put them.
As I was taking items from my box of lingerie and neatly placing them in a drawer, he came strolling into the closet. Taking in the sight of my things merged with his, he looked … satisfied. Even smug. Which baffled me.
“I don’t know how this situation could possibly please you.”
He dipped his hand into the box containing my lingerie and began idly sifting through it. Then his hand froze. “Well, now.” He pulled out my curved, textured, penis-shaped vibrator. My stomach took a dive. Mouth curved in amusement, he studied it. “Why is it purple?”
Cheeks flushing, I shrugged. “I didn’t make it.” I held out my hand, but he didn’t give it to me. I straightened my shoulders, feeling stupidly defensive. “Fine. Put it back in the box when you’re done examining it.” With that, I returned to the bedroom, head held high.
Now that I’d finished unpacking my clothes, I closed the suitcase and set it against the wall, out of the way. I tore open another box, grabbing my bag of toiletries out of it, and I turned toward the bathroom. And I found Blake stood a few feet away, mouth still curved … and the vibrator still in his hand. Butterflies took flight in my stomach. “I’m almost done unpacking. Are we going to eat after that, because I’m starving?”
He began to advance on me. “I’m pretty hungry myself.” It was clear that it wasn’t food he wanted.
I backed up at the intensity in his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Baby, you can’t bring a vibrator into my home and expect me not to use it on you.”
Oh, shit. “I’m sort of busy right now—”
He reached out, snatched the bag of toiletries out of my hand, and dumped it on the nightstand. “You can make time for me.”
The back of my knees hit the foot of the bed, and I almost tumbled onto the mattress. I expected him to pounce, but he didn’t. He just kept gliding toward me with slow, deliberate steps. His eyes glittered, locked on me with the focus of a predator. So much wicked intent there. It wasn’t that I had anything against ‘wicked intent.’ I just didn’t trust the kinky bastard not to try shoving the vibrator in places it had no right being.
I pointed at the toy. “Just so we’re clear, this doesn’t go up my ass. Ever.”
He didn’t seem to like my sharp tone, because he shot me a look of warning. Then his hand cupped my chin. “When I take your ass for the first time—which won’t be today, no, it will be a time when you’re least expecting it—I won’t be taking it with a toy. I’ll be taking it with my cock.”
That didn’t really make me feel any better, since his cock was by no means small.
He dropped the vibrator on the bed. “Strip, Kensey. And don’t fuck around. Just do it.” It was a softly spoken order, but it left no room for negotiation. And that flipped a switch in my brain.
My earlier discovery had left me feeling like the world had been tugged from under me. Now I no longer had a home and was sharing living space—something I wasn’t good at. I felt unsettled. Anchorless. Like I’d lost some of the control I had over my own life. And I wasn’t in the mood to be taken over by Blake right then.
I jutted out my chin. “You want the clothes off? Then take them off.”
His brow very slowly lifted. “Didn’t I just tell you not to fuck around?”
“I believe you did, yes.”
Rubbing his nose against mine, he exhaled a sigh that was tinged with mock pity. “Oh, Kensey, Kensey, Kensey. You know better than that.” His hands snapped around my wrists, and he then held them firmly behind my back. He leaned a little of his weight against me—not enough to unbalance me, but enough to make me feel crowded; to show me that he was the one with the power here.
I snarled. “Let. Me. Go.”
Instead, he tightened his hold on my wrists and pulled on them until I felt the strain in my shoulders. And for some fucked up reason, my nipples tightened. Not so much at the small pain but at the show of male power. As much as his dominance pissed me off right then, his strength made me feel both safe and enormously turned-on.
He ground his cock—hard, thick, and long—against me. “I’m going to fuck you, Kensey. Fuck you so hard and good that my dick will be the only one you remember. You’ll love every minute of it. You’ll want more and more. You’ll forget every little thing that’s messing with your head right now. And then you’ll come so fucking hard you’ll be boneless. And I’ll empty every bit of my come deep inside you while you scream for me.”
I swallowed. His words conjured all sorts of images in my brain, and I felt myself getting damp. It was beyond my control. My body was trained to respond to him.
“This can go one of two ways, Kensey. You can be a good girl, and I’ll treat you like one. Or you can keep defying me, and you’ll find yourself regretting it. I know how to play your body, Kensey. I know how to keep you hanging on the edge for hours. Don’t think I won’t do that. I will.”
Oh, I believed him. But back down? I just couldn’t find the calm I needed to do it. Of course, I could walk away. He’d never force me. But he was right in what he’d said before: he’d make me forget the things that were messing with my head. I didn’t want to think about them anymore.
“What will it be, Kensey?”
I just stared at him, defiant.
“Baby,” he said softly, almost sadly—as if I was my own worst enemy. Using one hand to keep mine pinned behind me, he thrust his free hand into my hair and lowered his mouth to mine. But he didn’t kiss me. No. He slowly traced the shape of my mouth with the tip of his tongue, licking over my scar. With a contented sigh, I parted my lips, wanting more. His tongue dipped inside, but it only skimmed the tip of mine. Then he was nipping at the corners of my mouth, sucking on my upper lip, and grazing my lower with his teeth.
Sparks flared, chemicals raced, my blood thickened. And I’d had enough.
I tried slamming my mouth on his, but he knotted his hand in my hair and held me in place. He lifted his head no more than an inch and simply looked at me, his mouth so close yet so far, taunting me with what I couldn’t have. Asshole. I hissed between my teeth.
“That wasn’t nice. I’m going to let go of your wrists now, but keep them where they are.”
“Or …?”
“Each time you defy me will equal a time that I refuse to let you come.”
I gaped at him. “That’s shitty.”
“I told you that if you defied me, you’d end up regretting it. All you have to do is be good for me. Now sit.” Still gripping my hair, he pushed down on my head until I sat on the edge of the bed. Eyes fixed on mine, he unbuttoned his fly. “I want to fuck this pretty face.”
Did he now? Well, that wasn’t such a bad idea. He knew my body well, true, but that worked both ways. I knew plenty of tricks that would make him lose control.
Fisting himself, he gave his cock one smooth stroke and then brushed the head over my mouth. “Open up.” The second I did, he surged i
nside. No preamble. No easing his way in. He didn’t move, though. Didn’t let me move either. His grip on my hair kept me still.
Hot and hard, he throbbed in my mouth. I swallowed around him, taking him a little deeper.
He clenched his teeth and tipped my head back slightly. “I’m going to come down your throat, Kensey. You’ll swallow it all.” And then he was driving his cock in and out of my mouth, gaze riveted on the sight. “Fucking love seeing your mouth stretched around my dick.”
He wasn’t careful. Wasn’t hesitant. He was rough and ruthless. But he looked at me like I was … important. There was even a hint of pride in his gaze.
Soon, my jaw started to ache and my lips felt a little numb, but I still sucked hard. Hollowed my cheeks and danced my tongue around him. Did everything that I knew would send him closer to coming. Just as his cock swelled and pulsed, his grip on my hair tightened until my scalp prickled.
“All of it, Kensey.” He punched his hips forward and exploded in my mouth with a guttural groan. I swallowed it all, unable to do anything else. His grip in my hair relaxed, and he stroked my head in reward as he slowly withdrew from my mouth.
I frowned when he tucked his cock back into his pants. “I’m going to need that,” I said.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Blake’s lips twitched. “You can have it when I’m good and ready for you to have it. Now stand up.” I did so, and his hands framed my face; thumb breezing over my lips. “You have one very talented mouth. It’s a good thing that it’s mine.” He kissed me. Softly. Sweetly. “You can move your hands now.” He massaged my shoulders, fingers digging into muscle and working their way down my arms until the limbs felt loose and relaxed.
He took a step back and folded his arms across his chest. “Strip.”
So we were back where we started. I gritted my teeth.
“That’s one.”
“What?”
“That’s one orgasm I won’t give you. If you keep hesitating just to fuck around, it’ll make two. Then three. Maybe more.”
Son of a bitch. Glaring at him, I wordlessly began to strip—there was nothing sexy or teasing about it. No, I was pissed and I let him know it.
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