He lay his head in the crook of her neck and licked off a bead of sweat. She tasted wonderful. His body was boneless, heavy and unmovable but somehow floating in the air at the same time. He knew he had to clean them up and then carry her to the bed, though the couch sat beside them. They’d be more comfortable on the bed, and he wasn’t done with her yet. He’d waited too long and worked too hard to get her to let him in to be done after one round. She sighed in his ear, and her breath tickled. He laughed, and his movement within her made her shudder again.
“Mmm. I’ll give you an hour to stop that,” she murmured. God, her voice was sexy.
She nibbled his earlobe, and he shuddered this time. Fucking condoms. He didn’t want to move yet, but he had to before the stupid thing leaked. He glided away from her roaming fingers and talented tongue and slipped free of her warmth. He looked down at her. She had the most adorable pout on her face, like he’d taken away her favorite chew toy. He bent his arms, lowering his head to hers and capturing her mouth for a slow kiss. He shifted away from her, and this time she let him go. Jeez, he wanted her again already. She clearly had a healthy sexual appetite, one to match his own. But did she want him or just some guy?
Tyler found a small wastebasket in the kitchenette on the right of the room and tossed the condom in. He watched as Ms. Marietta got to her feet and stalked toward him. She grabbed a towel off a counter and ran it under water. She turned to face him, and he froze, stunned at how her skin shimmered in the low lighting. She sashayed closer to him and brushed the soft terry cloth against him.
His cock jerked in response to her touch, blood already flowing back into it. She swept the towel around the head, and he gasped because he was still so sensitive. She looked up at him through her dark lashes, that devilish smile back on her face. God, he loved that open smile. It showed him the real Ms. Marietta, the one he’d glimpsed behind the sexy yet shy librarian. This was the woman who loved surfing and wasn’t afraid to admit she’d never been to a baseball game. The one who thought she needed rules to keep their passion contained. He was determined to show her the error of her ways and break every one of her rules in the process. She dropped the towel from her fingers.
“Oops,” she said, eyes wide in fake shock.
She slipped to the carpet before him, and his knees threatened to give out. He clung to the counter behind him as she licked her way to the base of his shaft. She lifted her hand to cup his balls, her cool fingers sending a jolt of heat through him. She suckled the skin of his semihard cock, and the air rushed from his lungs. His breath came in gasps as her finger trailed behind his ball sac, her fingernail grazing the skin as she sucked the head of his shaft into the wet heat of her mouth. She felt like heaven. Better than he ever could have imagined. And oh, had he ever imagined.
He managed to find enough breath to cry out when she moved forward, taking him deeper. He could feel himself growing more and more erect in her mouth as she pulled hard. She slid her head back and forth, then let him slide free with a wet pop. The narrow tip of her tongue glided along the underside of his cockhead as her left hand came up to hold the base of him. She licked at him, nibbled just a bit with her teeth until he was sure he would explode. Until he knew there would be nothing left but cinders. God.
Still her right hand played with his sac, and she ran her nails over sensitive skin. He couldn’t take any more. The muscles in his legs tightened almost to the point of pain. He’d never get inside her in time to explode. Never get a condom on fast enough, even if she stopped right that second.
“Oh, my…” He couldn’t finish the sentence as he burst with pleasure. She sucked harder, pulling with her mouth and hands until he sagged back against the counter. She let him slip free of her talented mouth. Through the haze in his head, he heard her laugh. He opened his eyes to look down at her and followed her every movement as she wiggled to her feet. She was sex incarnate. Moving like that should be a sin. She reached over and grabbed his hand, pulled him up against her. He wrapped his arms around her, afraid he might fall.
She kissed his neck, nibbling and sucking with the same intensity she’d used a few moments ago. Like she couldn’t get enough of him. What a complete turn-on. She started walking backward, pulling him with her. He’d follow her anywhere. Anytime. The intensity of that conviction almost made him stop her. It went beyond infatuation, beyond the need to pleasure her and let her pleasure him. It should have terrified him—and did—but if they only had a few days, he was sure as hell going to take advantage of them.
LAYLA TURNED AROUND and tugged him into the bedroom. She didn’t feel the need to say anything like she did with some men just to fill the awkward silence between rounds one and two. Instead, the quiet surrounded her like a comforting blanket. She let her fingers slip from his as she climbed up on the bed. She leaned back against the headboard, watching him. He stood at the foot of the bed, gazing down at her with heat in his eyes. She opened the bedside table drawer and grabbed a condom.
The soft length of him lay well spent between his legs, and she smirked. Knowing he’d come twice in such quick succession made her feel a bit dizzy. He stared at her like he would pounce at any moment. And then he did. He pushed her thighs apart, his fingers hard against her legs. She laughed at his eagerness, but she stopped the second he pushed open the folds of skin around her clit. Cool air rushed over the sensitive nub, and he bent down between her legs.
Then his hot tongue laved her, over and over until she couldn’t stop her body from wriggling. He put one hand on each hip to hold her still, swiping his wet tongue up and down. Until she was begging, pleading with him to let her go. To let the warmth filling her spill over.
“Please. Oh, aah.” She couldn’t form words. He licked her once more, slower this time, pulling her nerve endings so tight she wanted to scream. Her whole body tensed, held on the edge, waiting. Two more slow licks and then quick flicks back and forth and back again, and she screamed long and loud as an orgasm tore through her body. And still he didn’t stop.
He moved her folds farther apart, bringing his mouth down around her and sucking hard. She spasmed, crying out. He pushed two fingers deep inside her, thrusting in hard and deep, still sucking on her clit. Oh, Jesus, she couldn’t take any more. Too much sensation swamped her. And he didn’t relent. She grabbed fistfuls of the covers beneath her, bucking against his face and hands. She wasn’t sure if she was still in the throes of the first orgasm or the second as he pushed a third finger inside her, stretching her. One more hot pull of his tongue and thrust of his fingers, and she shook with the intensity of the strongest orgasm she’d ever felt.
She quivered again and again around him. He slipped his fingers out one by one, almost reluctantly, and licked her one last time, sending off another shock wave. Then he was sheathed and slamming in and out of her. And she came again. Just like that.
She could feel her muscles clenching him tight, dragging him over that edge with her a few seconds later. He rolled them onto their sides so they faced each other, and then he slid from her. He disposed of the second condom and lay back beside her, catching his breath. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to breathe again. Her lungs burned from the exertion. Little quivers of aftershocks still coursed through her.
He looked into her face, as if to memorize every detail. Such scrutiny should have made her squirm, and under any other circumstance it would have, but the look in his eyes was one of such wonder, still coated with intense pleasure, that she couldn’t help but revel in it.
“Well…thanks for letting me in.” He smiled.
She laughed. “Like you gave me a fucking choice in the matter.”
He shrugged. This close to him, she could see every ripple of muscle. She slung her leg over his hip, pulling him closer. She didn’t want him to go yet, but she was terrified to ask him to stay.
“When you leave, where will you go?”
At least he’d asked the question that way. It meant she wouldn’t have to lie to h
im again. Not yet, anyway. But how much could she tell him? How much could she say before it all came tumbling out? Before she told him she would be in New York at least another two weeks, maybe longer?
“California,” she said.
He ran his hand along her thigh and hip, just touching her to touch her. Not because he was ready for more. Not because he wanted something from her. But simply to have skin-to-skin contact. It was a wonderful feeling. She could see by the lines around his eyes and the straight set of his mouth that he was thinking hard about something.
She moved her hand up between them and smoothed his brow, wiping away the lines. Now wasn’t the time for thinking. It was a time to be in the moment. She rubbed his nose, loving the soft texture beneath her fingers.
“So what’s in California?”
She shook her head against the plush pillow. “I don’t want to talk about that stuff.”
“Okay.”
They lay there for a while, staring at each other, touching here and there. She wondered if he was as content as she to stay wrapped in each other’s arms all night. She almost asked him but stopped herself short. Then a phone rang from the other room.
He cringed. “Sorry.”
She disentangled herself from him and smiled. It wasn’t like they’d had a date or anything, and it wasn’t his fault he hadn’t shut off the phone. She certainly hadn’t given him the chance. But she couldn’t help feeling a bit irritated at the interruption.
“Hey, sweetie,” she heard him say to whoever was on the other end of the phone.
Okay, not analyzing the way that one sliced through her. He said he wasn’t attached, but somehow that didn’t always make it so, did it? Oh, God. Could she really have jumped into bed with another not-single guy? She stood from the bed and put on her robe.
“He what? Oh, that idiot. I’m going to kill him. I’ll be on a plane in the next three hours. That pissant.”
Whoa. What was this about? She looked at the clock. Nine p.m. Late enough that it shouldn’t be a work-related call. She turned the corner, and the look on his face was one of pure rage.
“Mand… Yes. Of course. No, absolutely not. He doesn’t get a pass for this one. Cheating on his pregnant fiancée with a coed. And don’t you go telling me that kissing her isn’t as bad as screwing her. It’s the same principle, and you know it.” He stopped, listened. “Aw, honey, I’m sorry. Oh, he is… Huh? Put him on the phone. I don’t care if he doesn’t speak English well enough. Mandy Amber, you put him on this phone this instant, or I swear to God I will be there to give him this speech in person.”
He was almost scary like this. Almost. Mostly he just looked incredible. The avenging angel. And Mandy was clearly not his girlfriend. It was stupid how much that knowledge meant to her in the midst of everything else. He stared at the wall, clenching the phone. She watched his profile. High cheekbones, mouth set in a straight line, eyebrows low on his face. He was pissed on behalf of Mandy.
“Kid. Shut up. I don’t understand French. You know enough English to understand me, though, don’t you?”
He waited a few heartbeats.
“Good. If you are lucky enough to have my sister forgive you, and you ever do something stupid to hurt her again, I will find you and hurt you. A lot.” Sister. It was his sister. And someone had hurt her by kissing another girl. He enunciated each word, and the menace in his voice couldn’t be misinterpreted, even if whoever was on the phone didn’t speak a word of English.
“That’s good.”
Another pause.
“Mand, are you sure you’re okay?” His voice softened. So did his facial expression. He loved her very much. He listened for a few minutes. “Okay, honey. You call me if you need anything. And I mean anything, got it? I love you too. You better make sure that bonehead understands what never again means. Yes. Good-bye.”
He ended the call and closed his eyes for a second and then turned the full intensity of his chocolate gaze on her. His dark stare made her shiver.
“You okay?” she asked.
He nodded. “No.”
“Well, all right, then.” She smiled and walked into his arms. She could feel his tight fists against her back as he cuddled her. He unclenched his hands and set the phone down. “Do you want to talk about it?” She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. And what a heart it was. He was a good man. Which only made her strengthen her resolve. She had to disappear in two days, despite the way her chest hurt at the thought. She wouldn’t damage such a good person by sticking around until she screwed everything up.
“My sister fell for a guy. A kid. She’s teaching in Paris. He’s a student. Barely twenty. And she’s pregnant. I guess she found him in a lip-lock with some other student.”
“Damn. That’s horrible.” Almost as horrible as walking in on your husband screwing some other woman. She would never forget the look on Justine’s face when she’d seen Layla with Jason. That kind of betrayal cut deep.
“He insists she kissed him, but he had to want to be kissing her, or he would have pushed her away.” He ran his hands up and down her back, and she could feel the heat through the soft silk of her robe.
“What does your sister think?”
“That he’s telling the truth. But she’s not sure.”
“It’s hard to trust someone else’s word,” she mumbled. Oops. She shouldn’t have said that.
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
She had the desire to tell him her most embarrassing screwup in a long line of them. But what would he think if he knew she’d once been a mistress, if unwittingly? He was very honorable. Would it make him think less of her? She almost wanted to spill the whole story so that she wouldn’t have to be the one to push him away. So that he’d do it for them. But that felt cheap. If she was going to let him in on her little secret, she would tell him because she wanted to. Because she’d gotten a glimpse into the true Mr. TS and he deserved to know just a little piece of her too, even if he couldn’t have it all. She took a deep breath, preparing for the fallout if this went bad.
“I was the other woman once. For six months.” His touch didn’t change; his breathing didn’t hitch. Like maybe he wasn’t judging her after all. “And I never knew it. Six months I dated a married man, and I didn’t have a fucking clue. He’d wrapped me so far around his finger. He didn’t mind all my stupid mistakes and hang-ups. Enjoyed the crazy parts of me.”
She didn’t want to finish the story, but he seemed to know there was more. He just stood there, naked, holding her close and waiting. Not asking any more questions, not pressuring her. Only waiting to see what else she would say, like he cared about the rest of it.
“He told me he got tired of my wildness. Tired of chasing me all over town. So I followed him home one night, convinced I could seduce him back. And I was right in the middle of that plan when his wife came home.” Her voice broke, and she couldn’t hide the shame that still burned within her at the memories. How could she not have known?
Chapter Twenty
Tyler listened to her describe how she’d been betrayed. No wonder she wanted to keep everyone at arm’s length. That kind of betrayal… He couldn’t imagine doing that to a woman. Especially one as amazing as her. And to do it to two of them? Repulsive. He’d never understood men who had affairs. Any remaining jealousy of the man he’d seen in the park fled. She was crushed that she’d been the other woman. The other guy couldn’t be anything but a friend. The knowledge made him smirk. She was all his. At least for the next two days.
“How could I not have known? How could I have been so stupid?” Her voice had become very soft, small, and filled with shame and unshed tears. He could hear them, just contained beneath her words.
“Because you trusted someone. He just happened to be a prick. It was in no way your fault.” He had to help her feel better about this. Had to make her realize she shouldn’t blame herself for some idiot’s wrongdoing. She felt bad for doing something s
he hadn’t known she’d done.
She laughed against him, and her shoulders relaxed as she held him around the waist. Finally he could breathe again. He bent over and hooked his arm beneath her knees, picking her up in one fluid motion.
“Just because he was such an ass doesn’t mean we all are.”
Something unreadable passed in her big, dark brown eyes. Maybe just the vestiges of unshed tears. But she blinked, and it disappeared. He dipped his head to hers and kissed her, showing her with lips and tongue that he wasn’t to be included in that asshole category. He wouldn’t squander the moment after she shared so much with him.
He carried her into the bedroom of the suite and set her down on the bright white blanket. She smiled up at him, all the sadness gone from her eyes. It had been replaced by softness touched with heat. She would be ready for him if he climbed into the bed beside her; he had no doubt. But he wanted more than that. He wanted her to know he didn’t think she’d been stupid. That even though she didn’t know him, she could trust him. No wonder she’d had such a look on her face when he’d asked her if she was married.
The cream silk robe she wore looked beautiful against her dark skin. The color set off her complexion perfectly. Like a dash of milk added to already creamy chocolate. She raised her eyebrows at his blatant staring.
“Sorry, just admiring the view.”
“Yeah, me too,” she said.
He chuckled and bent down to untie the silk sash of her robe. He pushed it open with slow tenderness and showed her just how much he appreciated the view. He aimed to let her know that she was worth more than being someone’s mistress, that it didn’t make her dirty, and that there was no shame in trusting the wrong person. He took things slow, touching, petting, loving. Reassuring her with gentle reassurance that she was special.
As they lay in bed afterward, holding each other in contented laziness, he couldn’t help but grin. The clock on the bedside table read midnight. Good thing he’d have a real short commute in the morning. If she’ll let me stay, that is.
An Affair Across Times Square Page 13