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Corrupted--A Scorching Hot Romance

Page 13

by Cathryn Fox


  “Yeah, but not before it gave me a hard time.”

  “Logs and hard times. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

  He laughs, and reaches for the mugs. His body brushes mine and a soft sigh catches in my throat. I scoop chocolate into the mugs, pour in the hot water, and we make our way back to the living room.

  “Ready to start decorating?” he asks, putting one hand on his hip, like he has no idea where to start. Why would he?

  “Can we sit for a minute?”

  He turns to me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Actually I’m great and I want to talk to you about something.” I shift on the sofa barely able to contain my excitement.

  He lowers himself across from me and I say, “You know all the designs I’ve been working on all week.”

  “Yeah, personally,” he teases with a wag of his brow. “I’ve been the lucky guy to take them off you.”

  I laugh and playfully whack him. “I had an idea and I’d love to run it by you.”

  “Run away.”

  “Your business is Hard Wear. You cater to busy men on the go, men who hate to shop, or simply don’t have a lot of money to spend on quality, fashionable clothes.”

  “That’s it in a nutshell.”

  “What about women? There are lots of women in that same category, too. Lots of women who hate to shop—” His brow raises like I’ve truly gone crazy.

  “If that’s what you think.”

  I laugh. “It’s what I know.”

  “You do seem to know a lot about a lot,” he says, and for a second I’m not sure what he’s referring to. “Anyway, go on.”

  I take a breath and let it out. “What if we did a complementary app to Hard Wear, and call it Soft Wear for women? Get it? Men are hard and women are soft, and like Hard Wear is a play on hardware, because of your computer science background, Soft Wear is a play on software, for the same reason.”

  “Oh, I get it.”

  He sits there staring at me, his expression unreadable and I hold my breath. Oh, God, please don’t let him think it’s a stupid idea.

  “You just thought of this?” he asks.

  “Yeah, like just a few minutes ago.” I wave my hand. “I have all these designs, and no place to sell them.”

  “Londyn,” he says, giving a slow shake of his head. “I can’t believe you just thought of this.” He snorts and scrubs his face. “Actually, I can.”

  I blink up at him, my heart crashing in my ears, eager to hear what he has to say next. “You can?”

  “Of course, I can. It’s brilliant. You’re brilliant.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Cason

  I PEEL MY eyes open, and darkness surrounds me. I’m not sure what’s pulled me awake, I only know I’m having a hard time staying asleep. After Londyn shared her Soft Wear idea with me, we stayed up all hours, making notes and sharing ideas, and I sent emails off to my programming team as well as my lawyers. She hasn’t asked, or even brought it up, but if I go with her concept and designs, we have to have legal documentation drawn up to give her ownership in the idea and new business plan. Honestly, I can’t believe why I hadn’t thought of it myself. The idea is downright brilliant.

  Whispers from the other room have me sitting up in bed. I swipe at my eyes and glance at the clock. It’s three in the morning. Who could Londyn possibly be talking to? I supposed if it’s someone from back in New York, that would make sense. It’s only nine at night there. I kick the blankets off, pull on my boxer shorts and pad quietly down the stairs to the living room. The tree is fully lit. How long has she been out of bed, and why is she up at all?

  I step closer, but can’t hear her whispered words. Beside her on the table, I spot my cell phone, lit up like the tree in the window. I don’t normally lock it in the privacy of my own home and it’s possible she grabbed mine thinking it was hers. What other explanation could there be? It had to have been a mistake. Why then is an uneasy feeling infiltrating my stomach?

  Maybe it’s because she seemed a bit spooked when I found her in the kitchen deep in conversation. I’m not sure who she was talking to, and she wasn’t interested in telling me, but she seemed upset until she spotted me standing in the doorway. Her demeanor instantly changed. I honestly had no idea she was on the phone when I went looking for her. In fact, I was surprised to find her on a call, which she quickly ended when she noticed me standing there.

  “Really?” she says, her voice rising a little from excitement. “That would be amazing. Okay, just text me the details. I’ll be waiting.”

  She spins abruptly, and her eyes widen when she finds me standing there. “Okay, I have to go.” She ends the call, blinks several times, and toys with the top button on the shirt she’s wearing—my shirt. Goddammit, it’s hard to think straight when she’s standing before me, half-naked and sexy as hell. But it’s more than just physical arousal with her, more than just wanting to strip bare, and slide her underneath me. What I feel goes so much deeper and it terrifies the hell out of me. But the truth of the matter is, where I want her most is in bed beside me, every single morning when I wake up—for the rest of my life.

  “Did I wake you?” she asks.

  I scrub my face, briefly glance past her shoulder to take in the romantic ambience of the room as the fire burns down and the tree lights twinkle. Last night, as much as I wanted to be inside her, we had so much to discuss that we talked until we were exhausted and fell asleep. I was content to hold her as she drifted off, like I had all those years ago. Now, however, with us both wide-awake...

  “I’m not sure. Something woke me.” She sets her phone on the table, screen down. I glance at it.

  “Oh,” she says and gives a flippant wave of her hand. “I had to call New York. The time difference is a killer.” She steps closer, and puts her arms around me. “Sorry for waking you.”

  “It’s okay.” Worry slides around inside my stomach, but Londyn doesn’t appear to be upset. Quite the opposite, actually. “You seem happy.”

  She turns in my arms, presses her back to my chest and wraps my arms around her. As I hug her tightly, her heart pounds a little harder against my hand. She rests her head against my shoulder, and her soft hair tickles my face. My body relaxes against her as she exhales a contented little sigh.

  “Cason,” she says quietly.

  “Yeah,” I say and brush my mouth over her ear. A quiver goes through her and I revel in the movement of her body, the way it wraps around me and squeezes my heart.

  “I am...happy. This gorgeous tree. This beautiful fire. The French Riviera.”

  “Your new Soft Wear idea.”

  She chuckles slightly. “That’s the icing on the cake.” She goes quiet, and we watch the tree for a bit. She finally breaks the silence and says, “It just feels like things are coming together for me.” Her head dips. “Why do I find that so frightening?”

  I spin her in my arms, and catch the turbulence in her eyes. “Because you don’t believe in yourself, Londyn. You’re afraid of failure. I think that’s what’s been holding you back. You’re so goddamn afraid of disappointing your family, your confidence isn’t what it should be.”

  “I try,” she says meekly, and my heart reaches out to the girl seeking approval from a man who will never give it. Sometimes I think I’m the lucky one. No father at all is better than one who is manipulative and controlling. Londyn deserves so much better than that.

  “I know you do. But you need to believe in yourself. Anything worth having is worth fighting for.”

  “I think I read that somewhere.”

  “Yeah, on a poster in my dorm.” I chuckle. “Don’t you let anything hold you back. Failing is better than not trying and you can’t succeed if you don’t give it your all.”

  She opens her mouth, closes it again and steps away from me. I follow h
er to the tree as she lightly touches the bulbs.

  “Londyn?”

  “Sometimes when things are too good to be true, they usually are.”

  “I know,” I say. I pull her to me, and drop my gaze.

  “Have I been living in a fairy tale, and none of this is real?”

  Her frightened look breaks me and haunts my soul. “It’s real, Londyn,” I say, wanting to make her whole again, even though she once tore my heart from my chest and trampled it.

  “You don’t think I’m just fooling myself? That I’m not a foolish girl with no talent?”

  I shake my head, frustration gripping my throat. I have no idea why she keeps asking me that, or what it’s going to take for her to see that I believe in her—for her to see her worth.

  “No, and when it comes to things being real, this is as real as they get,” I say and press my mouth to hers. She melts against me, and all thoughts evaporate, all but one. I need to be inside her.

  I draw in an unsteady breath as my chest tightens. “I want you.”

  “I want you, too.”

  I grin at her. “Look at that,” I tease. “We have so much in common.” My shaky fingers go to the buttons on her shirt. I begin to release them, one at a time, slowly, drawing this night out. Tonight there will be no hurried sex, no frantic fucking, no matter how much we both like that. No, tonight, when I put my cock in her—when I make love to her—I plan to savor ever second of it, plan to make it so goddamn good for her, she’ll never forget this night. Honest to God, when it comes to her, I’m fighting a losing battle.

  She moves restlessly, and places her warm hands on mine. Our eyes meet, our gazes lock and I smile at her. I widen the shirt, run my fingers over her slowly, gently, and cup her lush breasts in my palms. As I fill my hands, her head falls back and I brush the rough pads of my thumbs over her nipples. Jesus, I can’t wait to bury myself in her.

  “That feels so good, Cason.”

  Her hands go to my face, and she brings my lips to hers. Her breath quickens and her fingers drop, explore my body, her soft touch like a healing balm to my heart. I moan to let her know what she does to me, even though the raging erection between my legs is a pretty good indication.

  I break the kiss, bury my mouth in the crook of her neck and she quivers. My cock stretches more, pushes against the band on my boxer shorts. I groan against her soft flesh, and begin a leisurely journey downward. I press wet kisses to her skin, take her nipple into my mouth. I kiss it gently, and treasure it like it’s a prized possession before continuing my exploration.

  Her nails rake my hair, and I dig my fingers into the soft flesh of her hips. Her eyes close and her body quakes with want. I slide the shirt from her body and it falls to the floor. Backing up an inch, I let my gaze race over hers. She’s so goddamn perfect. We’re perfect together.

  I back her up until we’re in front of the fire, and I lay her out on the soft rug. She reaches for me and I quickly rid myself of my boxers, and take my cock into my hand.

  “You want this?” I ask, and her head nods. “Show me.”

  She widens her legs, and I can see every inch of her in the firelight. She writhes on the floor, her finger racing over her flesh, until she finds the needy spot between her legs.

  My spot.

  I growl, and her mouth parts, her fingers sliding over her sex. I drop to my knees, wedge myself between her legs, and she sits up and wraps those gorgeous lips around my cock. She takes me deep, like she’s been waiting, starved for a taste of me, and the sight of my dick sliding to the back of her throat shakes me to my core. I move my hips, plunge a bit deeper, and she moans around the length of me.

  “You like sucking my cock?” I ask. She nods, and cups my balls. “You like it when I fill your mouth with my cum?” She whimpers, and I push her hair back to see more of her mouth. She works her mouth over me like it’s her goddamn job, dragging her lips along my length. I want to stop, need to stop, but how can I possibly when she’s so good at this.

  She licks her lips, and glances up at me, a teasing warmth in her eyes. “You like me sucking you?” she asks.

  I glance at my rock-hard dick, as it sits on her bottom lip. “Fuck yeah.”

  She smiles and I get it, she loves the power she has over me. I growl and she takes me back into her mouth, treating me to a hard suck until tightness coils inside me. Moments before I reach the point of no return, I grip her hair and gently drag her off my dick.

  “Lie back. Open for me,” I command in a soft voice. “I want my mouth between your legs.”

  A needy sound slips from her throat and her hands go to her breasts as she falls back, her hair wild and sexy around her. I stroke her with a light caress, parting her. Finding her hot and wet like this screws me over a little more. I drink in the sight of her, and her body moves restlessly, but I take my time to enjoy the view.

  “Please, Cason...put your mouth on me.”

  Shit, I love the way she gets for me. I bend forward, and swirl my tongue over her clit, teasing the hunger in her body. I lick slowly, taking my time. As I draw out this seduction, her hands go to my shoulders, and her nails drag on my skin. Fuck yeah. I groan as she leaves her mark on me, and slide my tongue lower, plunging inside of her as I place my thumb on her clit.

  Her ragged breath washes over me as she inches up, taking hold of my head and grinding against me. Attagirl. Take what you need. Knowing exactly how she likes it, exactly what her body needs, I slide a thick finger inside her, and just hold it there.

  “Cason,” she cries out and tries to shift, but I press down on her to hinder her movements. I almost laugh. She likes it when I lose myself in the moment, and although I’m acting like I’m the one in control here, the truth is, she’s got me by the balls and has complete power over me. Londyn has always had the upper hand when it comes to me.

  Her muscles ripple around my probing finger and I pull it out. Her hands grip my forearm, and she holds as I sink back into her, a leisurely pace that has her eyes rolling back in her head. Slow and steady, that’s how she’s getting it tonight. I continue to finger her, eager to see how high I can take her before she tumbles over.

  “Cason...” Her back arches, and an urgent little sound catches in her throat. I slow the pace, ease off on the friction, and her eyes glaze over as I keep her hovering on the edge. “What...what are you doing to me?”

  “Don’t like it?” I ask with a chuckle.

  “Yes...yes...but...”

  “You need to come?”

  “Please.”

  “You want to come in my mouth?”

  “Cason...”

  “Rub yourself all over my face, sweetheart. I want you to get my mouth nice and slick. Can you do that for me?”

  Her answering moan prompts me into action. I take her clit back into my mouth and her skin grows tight against my tongue. I tilt my head, needing to see her face when she tumbles over. Her lids flutter, her eyes fall shut. As she loses herself in pleasure, the gorgeous sight squeezes my aching cock. I move my fingers a little faster, answering the hunger reverberating through her quaking body. Heat shoots through me as her muscles tremble and squeeze my fingers, and I keep my face buried between her legs until she finally lets go.

  Everything in the way she comes undone is sensuous and beautiful, something I’ll never tire of seeing. My skin grows hot, and I’m dangerously close to losing it, simply from watching her.

  “So good,” she murmurs as each light stroke over her sex provokes a quiver in her body. I touch her softly, bring her back down gently, and her look is one of euphoria as her glazed eyes refocus on me.

  “Welcome back,” I say.

  She smiles and reaches for me. I crawl up her body, my cock nestled between her damp thighs. I kiss the hollow of her damp throat, and her moan reverberates against my lips. I inhale her sweet scent into my lungs, and cover
her lips with mine. Her mouth moves, a lazy slide of our tongues, our movements less rushed, but no less profound. My dick probes her opening and she lifts, inviting me inside.

  “You ready to disappear again?” I murmur.

  “God, yes,” she whimpers. “Disappear with me.” Her hands wrap around my neck, and I flatten myself on her body. I’m about to sink into her warm depths when a working brain cell stops me.

  “Shit. Condom,” I say. Jesus I can’t believe I nearly forgot. I’m about to move, run to the bedroom at lightning speed, until her hands on my arm stop me.

  “It’s okay,” she says.

  I shake my head, confused. “What are you saying, Londyn?”

  “I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.”

  My heart misses one beat, and then another. I’m a dead man, and I know it. Yeah, I’m a complete and utter goner if I put my dick in her with zero barriers between us. Heck, I might as well be slipping the noose around my neck.

  “I’m clean, too. I always use a condom.”

  “I know. I trust you.”

  My throat tightens. “Are you sure?” I ask, my voice thick and rusty, as the last barriers around my heart come tumbling down. “It’s what you want?”

  “It’s what I want.”

  Maybe I could be stronger if I wasn’t in love with her, wasn’t the guy who’d run through fire to give those I care about what they need.

  I fall over her, slide myself between her folds. Our eyes meet, and the need I see reflecting in her gaze matches my own. I hold for one second, one long second that feels like a millennium, as I struggle to figure out how I’ll ever come back from this.

  Maybe I don’t want to.

  I slide my hands under her ass, and lift her hips. As she lies there, her body poised and open to me, I inch into her, stopping when I can’t go any farther, but wanting more, all of her. I seat myself high, and pant against her throat. Her soft hands race over me eagerly, as we hold one another, like our very lives depend on it—like we both know there is more going on here. I set the boundaries from the start of this thing, drew a line in the sand, and we both agreed. But we’ve crossed the limits so many times, all that’s left is scuff marks in the dirt, and a wide open heart. We hold tighter, stay like that for a long time, and I revel in the feel of being buried in her hot flesh.

 

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