by Lindsey Hart
For a guy that had basically just wet the bed- sweat fest style- he shouldn’t be so confident or so darkly sexy. Of course, he was. He probably could have wet the bed for real and it would be sexy. And no, that wasn’t her kink.
Noemi found her feet moving before her brain had a chance to keep up. She realized, two steps in, that she was a goner. Hook line and freaking sinker, and no, she’d never actually been fishing in her life. The analogy was perfect. How with that crooked finger and shining eyes, Cason reeled her in. How, like that poor, hapless fish, she let him.
CHAPTER 11
Byron
He decided, right there in water so warm it felt like he was a lobster trying to boil himself alive, that he should write a book on dating. What to do. What not to do. So far, he’d done everything wrong.
He was pretty sure that there were no books out there that could lay it out like he had. He decided on a title. Ten Steps To Woo A Fiancé Who Doesn’t Want To Marry Your Ass.
One- rear end the woman you wanted to impress, while trying not to give her whiplash or actually damage her car in the process. Grow balls of steel and ask her out.
Two- smother a grease fire on first date, literally ten minutes later, after sitting at a booth with no actual service. Grow balls of steel and ask her over to a house that doesn’t actually exist.
Three- procure a house.
Four- fuck you dinner, then make her dinner instead.
Five- defile her in the shower, way over the line for a first date, but so far, so good, right?
Six- order the greasiest pizza known to mankind and watch her somehow act like it’s the best food on the planet.
Seven- put her to bed in your t-shirt, when she’s so dead exhausted and passed out, in a food coma that she can’t fight back.
Eight- have the nightmare to end all nightmares, soak said bed, make her clean it up.
Nine- appear dark, mysterious, and shadowy while soaking for so long in a hot bath that your fingers and toes are pruning up and hope that it is somehow a turn on.
Ten- grow balls of steel and tell her the truth.
Ten for real- bang her brains out in said tub, give her three more orgasms, take her to the bed and give her four more, wear her out into a state of jelly where she’ll forgive you for just about anything because you’re a sex god with actual balls of steel.
Yeah. Right.
Maybe he should quit the shoe business and go into writing self-help books. He was pretty sure his ten-step rule would become an instant best-seller.
Noemi stood staring at him with wide eyes. She looked so fucking hot with her hair tangled about her face and her big doe eyes. There was still a sheet crease across her left cheek, though it was faded and only visible in the bright lights of the bathroom. Too bright, but they didn’t have a dimmer switch.
“Come here,” he repeated. “I said I would only have this bath if you joined me. It’s nice and warm. I made it overly hot so it wouldn’t be cold when you finally got around to getting in here.”
She twisted her hands awkwardly in his t-shirt. Which was absurdly sexy on her too, her shapely, lithe legs peeking out below the hem which reached down to her knees, even though she was on the tall side.
“The thing is, one-night stands don’t normally last longer than a night. I’ve been here too long. I should probably just get dressed and go.”
He sat up so fast that water nearly splashed over the edges of the tub and it was a deep tub, carved like a claw foot, minus the claws. It was new, like the rest of the bathroom, obviously remodeled. The guy’s wife probably picked the damn thing out because she saw it in a designer magazine and had to have it even though it probably cost eight times more than a normal tub. Or maybe they’d just got the damn thing on sale and designed the bathroom around it since it was large enough to fit everything. What did he know? He wasn’t a damn bathtub expert.
What to do in them, sure. About them? That would be a hard no.
“Who said this was a one-night stand? I’m pretty sure you agreed to waffles tomorrow.”
“Right.” It was obvious by her tone that she’d either forgotten or wanted to change her mind.
“So. Come. Here.” He crooked his finger again. “I don’t normally ask twice.”
“That’s the thing. Of course, you don’t normally ask twice. You probably have women falling all over you, no matter what you say. Guys like you and girls like me- we don’t…”
“That’s not the first time you said that.” He glowered at her, serious. “I don’t know what you mean by guys like me and girls like you. Last time I checked, girls like you were beautiful, on the outside and obviously on the inside too. You wear your kindness and compassion on your face. Anyone who looked at you for more than a few seconds could tell you have a big heart. I find you very beautiful and very desirable. Fuck what anyone else thinks. So, guys like me and girls like you- I’m pretty sure that the equation there is one plus one equals seven.”
“Seven?” She frowned in confusion.
“Seven. That’s how many orgasms I’m going to give you, since I don’t plan on going back to bed. Now. Are you going to come here or are you going to spout more nonsense?”
Noemi bit down on her lip. Of course, she did. It made his cock raging harder. Because it was already hard as steel. Seven might actually be an understatement.
“It’s just- I- I don’t think you’re okay. What happened back there? You were obviously having a nightmare. About something bad. I- I just- you don’t have to do this. I can leave and I’ll come back this evening. Like I said. Or- I- we can just go back to bed and cuddle or something.”
“Cuddle?” He said it like it was a four-letter word, and not the good kind.
Noemi’s chin tipped up adorably. “Yeah. Cuddle. You do know what that is?”
“It sounds like something my grandparents would have done.”
“Old fashioned or not, I like it.”
“I’m fine. I don’t even remember what it was about.” That was a lie, but he wasn’t about to get into the finer details of the worst of his experiences. “Maybe it was just hot in the room. I’ll check the furnace. It probably got left on and it’s July. If you want cuddling, I can give you that. After seven orgasms. From what I’ve heard, it’s more fun while enjoying the post coital bliss of being completely rung out and so sore you’re not entirely sure that you’ll ever be able to walk straight again.”
Noemi ran her tongue along her bottom lip, a new one, but an even sexier version than seeing her teeth sink in. “I… if you ask nicely, I’ll come.”
“You’ll be coming, but I prefer you don’t ask me nicely. I like a little dirty talk.”
She shuddered visibly. “Ask me nicely. Say it. Say please. I don’t like to be commanded all the time. If you want me in there, you can ask me like a gentleman.”
“The tux and gown kind or the eighteen hundreds version?”
“Any version.”
He nearly smiled but managed at the last second to contain it. “Fine.” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “Please. Please, my fairest of all the beautiful maidens. Come hither and get that tight little behind into this bathtub before I fuckin’ explode looking at you in that t-shirt with that please pleasure me from every direction look you’re trying, and failing, to keep off your face.”
Noemi rolled her eyes, but a second later, she raised her arms and tugged off his t-shirt, standing there completely nude. Fuck. If this woman was ever going to be his wife, there would be nothing platonic about the marriage. He might as well sell off his company because he knew for a fact, he’d never want to actually leave the house ever again.
“I can tell you’re in pain,” she breathed as she stepped closer. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but you don’t have to pretend that you’re not. You don’t have to talk about it. I seriously just want to know that you’re alright.”
“Yes.” No. I don’t fucking actually know.
He’d been burying s
hit for a long time. Like any old skeletons, he didn’t actually want to go exhume his pain and put it on display for all to see like a disgusting rotting corpse. Except with Noemi looking at him like she actually cared, like she wouldn’t judge him, like she might even dare to tell him that he wasn’t damaged and hold him until her warmth seeped into the ice and stone of his insides, it was damn hard for him to keep the shovel hidden safely away. He almost wanted to hand it to her and tell her to get to work.
“Okay.” Her voice was quiet, so quiet he almost didn’t hear the softly spoken word. “Okay,” she repeated. She took one step closer to the tub. “But I’m pretty sure that it’s not sanitary or healthy to get water up there.”
“No?” He stood up, letting water sluice off his body and giving her a full-frontal view of his throbbing erection. “In that case, I’ll come to you.”
He stepped out of the tub and she stood her ground. He didn’t bother with a towel, just dripped water all over the floor while her eyes remained glued to his cock. If that wasn’t a big ego stroke, he wasn’t sure what was. “Are you on the pill?”
Her mouth dropped open. “I- yes. I am.”
“Good. Because I’m clean. I swear it.”
“I- I didn’t think… I mean, I…”
“If you don’t ask those basic questions with someone and trust them to answer them honestly, then we can’t proceed. Unless it’s with a condom. I have some of those too, if you prefer.”
Her chin tilted slightly. “I believe you. I just don’t do this- kind of- thing. Ever.”
“Would you believe me if I said you were mine?”
“Yours?” she scoffed. “Are you insane?” She swayed though, belying the impact his words had on her.
“Mine for tonight. Mine to make waffles for. Mine for however long you keep coming over, keep giving this a shot. I don’t just want your body, Noemi. I want all of you.” Jeez, that was a line if he’d ever heard one, but the crazy thing was that he actually meant it.
“Let’s just stop talking now. It’s the middle of the night. Only crazy things are said by crazy people crazy enough to be awake at this hour.”
“Agreed.” She asked for it. His stomach twisted, but in that good pain kind of way.
He obliterated the few feet between them, dropped his hands to her hips, and tugged her in against him. Her face tipped up, searching, hungry, ready. He brutalized her mouth with his kiss, swallowing up her moan of excitement and desire. He wasn’t gentle. He nipped at her. Battled with her mouth. He kissed her like he was dying. Like he needed saving and she was it for him. He kissed her like he’d known her a lifetime, not for less than a day. He kissed her like he wanted the rest of her life, and it was scary and absurd how close to the truth that actually was.
He cupped her breast in one hand, rolling his fingers over her already hard nipple until it was beaded in his hand and she gasped into his mouth.
Byron ripped his face from hers and dropped his head. He tasted the pert little bud, so sweet, like a burst of vanilla over his tongue that he groaned right along with her. He nipped her lightly, scraping his teeth as he circled her with his tongue and her body, ever responsive jerked so hard that her pelvis slammed into his.
“Yes, sweetheart, that’s right. The next time you hear the word please, it’s going to be you mewling it into my ear, begging me to let you come.”
“That’s- over- overconfident,” she panted.
He grinned against her nipple. “Are you sure about that?” He moved his mouth over, claiming her other nipple, licking and biting and blowing at it until she was writhing and panting above him. He finally raised his head and looked into her face. Her pupils were already blown. “No. No, you’re not sure about that at all.”
She arched her back and that was all it took to snap what little control he had left. He had her by the hips, lifted against his waist, her lithe, long legs tucked around his hard muscle, in a second. Two more seconds and he had her out of the bathroom and pressed against the bedroom wall. The light from the hall spilled in, piercing the darkness, giving Noemi’s darker skin a beautiful golden hue.
She threw her arms around his neck and dug her fingers into his shoulder muscles. It wasn’t hot in the room. That furnace wasn’t on, but he felt like it was sweltering. Like he was melting from the inside out. It was the thought of being inside of her. Fuck, he had to be inside her. Bare. He’d feel every single inch of her close around him.
He’d be lucky if he could hold out and give her seven orgasms. He’d be lucky if he got to one. His cock kicked in agreement against her stomach and she threw her head back against the wall so hard that it actually made a thud. At the same time, she ground her hips into him, telling him silently to hurry that shit up. ASAP.
He was never one to be overly disagreeable, so he gave her what she wanted. What they both wanted. He palmed his cock and fit it to her entrance. He paused there, though it nearly actually killed him, just for dramatic effect. He wasn’t sure, but the shuddering and writhing Noemi did against him, combined with her little howls of excitement might actually have counted as O one. Good. Only six more to go.
He slid inside of her, bareback for the first time in his life- because even in high school he’d been smart enough to glove up. That was the one thing his father taught him that actually stuck. To use his brain when it counted, not his dick, because he’d regret that shit for the rest of his life if it either a, fell off, or b produced offspring he wasn’t equipped to deal with.
He trusted Noemi, though. That she was indeed on the pill and indeed using it correctly. She didn’t know he had money. Or that his family had before that. She didn’t know anything about him. It killed him that she moaned his name in his ear, but it wasn’t the right name at all. Cason. The bastard didn’t even exist. The bastard was him, and he still wanted to kick the guy’s ass.
She didn’t know any of it. She just wanted him. And he wanted her. That was the equation he’d talked about. There was no deception on her part. He doubted she was even capable of it.
He also knew for a fact that he was going to marry her. Or at least, that he was never going to let her go.
“Fuck, you’re so wet I can feel you dripping all over me,” he said darkly, right into the shell of her ear. That was a safe bet. Dirty talk, so he didn’t have to think about the crazy fucking feelings rattling around in his skull and chest at the moment.
She moaned and when he thrust up all the way inside of her, she moaned loudly and took him. Every single inch. She was so tight, so hot, and amazing. He matched her, groan for moan, growl for whimper. He forgot all about making her beg to come. He went for plan B, which was just to screw her like a madman. He drove into her so hard that her head banged against the drywall hard enough that he was sure he’d had to forfeit his damage deposit.
It should be against every effing law in the universe to want someone as badly as he wanted her. It should also be criminal to have a pussy tight enough to squeeze his cock clean off. He felt like he was taking his life into his own hands, at least his manhood, by thrusting up into those tightly clenching walls. How could her pussy spasm like that before she was even coming? Noemi wasn’t just the most beautiful woman on the planet. She had the most gorgeous pussy. Inside and out.
And he wasn’t just saying that because he was a dude.
Though having a cock to test the whole inside part of that statement definitely helped.
“C-Cason,” she breathed. Bang. Her head hit the wall again. Thump. Her pelvis knocked into his. Bang. Thump. Bang. Thump.
He wished it was his name she was mewling. His real name, not his shitty alter-ego name. Although, if she knew who he was, he wouldn’t be balls deep inside her bliss box at the moment.
He pumped his hips harder, flexing and thrusting up into her further and harder, driving her into the wall while she drove back, bucking her hips like a wild animal, matching his thrusts with her gyrations. All that dirty grinding was going to get him off before it got h
er juicing, so he intensified his thrusts, fucking her like he wanted to punish her.
Punish her for running from him before she even knew what he looked like or had a chance to get to know him, though that wasn’t fair.
Punish her for being so beautiful, though that wasn’t fair either.
Punish her for tempting him with just her sheer sweetness, her glorious innocence, and all that beauty locked away inside her soul. None of that was fair.
Punish her for the fact that this might really be a one-night stand because he was growing more and more certain that she’d never speak to him again if she learned the truth. That wasn’t fair either.
He wanted to punish her for making him feel. For unlocking that shit storm that he kept so carefully guarded. Nope. Not fair either.
Apparently though, Noemi liked to be punished. He was pretty sure he was hitting just about every spot she had in that beautiful pussy, including her G-spot. He kept going, stroking her hard, fast, slower, short and long, throbbing inside of her, letting her take it all in like a promise. He was giving her a sample, but he promised her seven, and he was going to make good on his word. He’d give her everything in turns, slow, fast, hard. In every position on fucking earth.
Okay, maybe not that far.
He’d keep a few tricks up his sleeve for the future, if that ever came.
A few more hard, deep thrusts, and Noemi was gone, coming around him, writhing against him, bucking her hips so hard she almost flung him off, hitting herself into the wall, digging her nails into his shoulders until the muscles burned with the indents of those little crescents.
She moaned and whimpered and made little half scream sounds until she was hoarse, and then at the end of it all, she moaned his name. Not his real name.
“Cason,” she breathed, right into his ear.
He pulled out when he came. He couldn’t do that inside of her. Not because he didn’t trust her about the pill or trust it to work, but because it felt like the ultimate deception. He’d already filled her up with lies. He didn’t need to fill her up with anything else.