He rubbed his lips against mine.
I groaned and he flicked his tongue against me.
“I want to kiss you. Tell me I can.”
I didn’t remember saying yes, but I know I must have. Just like I didn’t remember reaching for him, but I did, because I had my arms curled around his neck, one hand fisting the golden silk of his hair.
His tongue pushed inside my mouth and I whimpered as he rubbed it over mine, inviting me to play.
I did so and when I nervously dipped my tongue into his mouth, he rewarded me by sucking on it ever so slightly.
He broke the kiss. “I want to touch you. Can I?”
“Yes.”
Once more, he dragged the skirt up. “Spread your thighs,” he said for the second time in just minutes.
My self-consciousness rose back up to taunt me and I stared at him, helpless. Luke caught my lip between his teeth and bit down lightly. “What’s the look for, Ina?”
“I’m not exactly built like the women you date, Luke,” I blurted out. “I’ve never been a size two in my life. I can’t get into the single digits no matter how hard I try.”
For a second, he just stared at me. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. “Sabrina, I don’t give a flying fuck what size you are. If you don’t let me touch you, I’m going to have to crawl out of this car, crawl to the elevator, into the apartment and drown myself in a cold shower.” His hand tightened slightly on my thigh. “Open for me...please?”
Heart pounding against my ribs, I did.
A harsh groan escaped him as he slid his hand straight up the inside of my plump thigh, seeking my core. “Fuccckkkk...” he muttered against my mouth. “You’re already so wet. Is this all for me, Ina?”
Face burning hot, I answered, “Yes.”
He swore and caught my lower lip, sinking his teeth down until just a hint of pain threatened before he eased up and worried the small hurt with his tongue. At the same time, he traced his fingers along my slit and I gasped.
He took advantage of that, plunging his tongue inside my mouth.
He also thrust those two fingers up, entering me.
I arched, grabbing onto his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life.
He moved slowly, almost lazily and I wiggled against him, desperate for more. He spread his fingers, twisted and curled them and the climax hit me hard and fast, slamming into me before I even realized it was going to happen. I moaned into his mouth as it raged on, and then it was over.
He broke off the kiss so suddenly, I felt lost without him.
I stared at him, not comprehending as he retreated to his own seat.
Dazed, I stared at him. “What...” I blinked, my head still spinning from the intensity of the past few, fast, furious moments. “What are you doing?”
“Trying not to come in my fucking jeans,” he said, voice gritty.
My jaw dropped open.
He took one look at me and a sharp laugh escaped him. “Sabrina, if I could have had five minutes to myself and a little bit of privacy, I would have already jacked off. I haven’t been able to think about much of anything except you ever since I saw you practically naked when you called me.”
“That was an accident!” I blurted out.
“I know.” His lids drooped as he stared at me. “A very welcome one.” He dragged in a slow breath, nostrils flaring. “A very, very welcome one.”
I pursed my lips and looked away, smoothing my skirt down my thighs. I didn’t know how to handle this, so I decided I was just going to shove it into a compartment in my head, then into a closet with a giant padlock, and maybe in fifty years, I’d consider thinking about it. “We need to get up to the room. We keep sitting in the car, somebody’s likely to notify security.”
“Can’t have that,” Luke murmured.
I climbed out, not giving him a second look, although the imprint of how he’d looked a few seconds ago was burned into my brain matter—lids low, mouth slightly swollen and lips wet, cheeks just the slightest bit flushed, while hunger made his eyes glitter. He’d given women similar looks on screen, although not quite that intense. This was...real. And it was directed at me.
My legs were already weak, thanks to the orgasm that was still sending aftershocks through me, and now, with that image burned into my brain, my knees wobbled even more.
Wrenching open the back door of the SUV might have helped burn off some of the energy, but I went unsatisfied there, too. I depressed the lever and the door slowly, slowly glided up—one of those damn automatic contraptions. Sometimes, a girl just needed to slam and jerk something open.
My mind flicked back to what Luke had said only seconds ago.
If I could have had five minutes to myself and a little bit of privacy, I would have already jacked off.
I swallowed back a whimper. Jerking off something might help. A very particular something.
I almost jumped when Luke appeared at my side.
Reaching in, I caught the handle of my carry-on. Luke went to grab it at the same time and our fingers brushed.
I pulled away as if I’d touched a hot stove.
He gave me an unreadable look, his eyes opaque, but there was a slant to his lips that made all my girly parts tingle even more than they already did. Since I wasn’t about to get into a tug of war with him over the luggage, I grabbed my purse and the long strap of the business bag that held my files and laptop and turned, striding away from him.
“Got everything?” I asked as my heels went click, click, click on the cement beneath me.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The deep, low honey of his voice might have made me shiver if I hadn’t already steeled myself against it. I hit the button on the key fob to lower the back door and lock the vehicle. “Come on. I’ve still got work to do.”
“I’m right behind you, Sabrina.”
Chapter Sixteen
Luke
I STAYED RIGHT BEHIND her, too, despite the fact that her long, lushly curved legs were scissoring so fast, one might think she was trying to outrun me.
I wasn’t sure if she was running from me, from what had happened in the SUV, or from herself.
I was going to figure it out, though.
As long as the answer wasn’t one hundred percent me, I had every intention of continuing what we’d started. The nervous way she kept shooting glances back at me gave me pause, so I bided my time. This wasn’t any kind of discussion we could have in public and although there wasn’t anybody around, we were still in a public space.
So I kept my hands to myself as we walked to the elevator.
She shot a frown my way. “Which apartment did you want to stay in?”
I blinked at her, thinking through the question, then shrugged. “The first one. The other one is bigger, will fit more of my family. That work for you?”
“Of course.” She’d settled back into her role and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she popped off with Mr. Cochran, just to try to get a little more distance between us.
She didn’t though. She just hit the elevator button and once the doors opened in front of us and we moved inside, she hit the number for our floor. She then swiped the keycard we’d been given and a second later, the car began its smooth glide upward. Instinctively, I glanced at her hand. I’d noticed a long time ago that she was claustrophobic, something she hid well, but it was hard to hide that sort of thing from somebody you were around days in and days out.
I reached for a distraction.
My mouth had a mind of its own and before I even realized what I planned to say, the words were already out there. “I’m wondering if you’ll taste as good as you feel, Sabrina. As good as you smell.”
She swung a wide, shocked gaze my way.
She was still gaping at me when the doors opened—a soft, bell-like tone announcing our arrival—to an elegantly discreet entryway. Across the hall there was a double set of mahogany doors, flanked on either side by fresh vases of flowers that probably stood clo
se to five feet from their bases to the very tips of the tallest blooms.
Nudging Sabrina’s shoulder, I said, “The doors are open.”
She snapped her jaw shut and turned stiffly. She exited the elevator just before the doors would have glided shut. I followed her, blowing out a slow, deep breath.
She unlocked the doors and pushed them open, standing aside for me.
I gave her a hard look. “After you.”
Sabrina cocked a perfectly shaped brow at me.
We’d had this argument a hundred times, probably more.
“My mom would kick my ass if she knew I was letting a lady open doors for me,” I told her.
“Equal rights.” Sabrina gave me a toothy smile. Then she jingled the key in my face. “And I already opened the door.”
She had a point. Grumbling under my breath, I moved into the sprawling apartment and put the two suitcases down. Neither of them were heavy. Both of us knew how to pack light and over the past few years, Sabrina had worked on training me to be as efficient as her.
I wasn’t even close.
But she had tried.
She came in right after me, closing and locking the doors, then catching her carry-on and sailing past me.
I let her, sauntering after her.
She took the bedroom I’d known she’d take—the closest one—smaller, with a western-facing view that offered a look at downtown and the Ohio River as it rolled off toward New Albany and beyond. As she put her luggage on the bed, I leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and studied her.
The poppy-red dress she wore framed her upper body like a dream, cupping her breasts and offering them up in a fashion I couldn’t help but appreciate. The bodice ran close along her torso before flaring out at her hips. I wanted to ease her onto the bed and push that skirt up, up, up, baring her so I could see the flesh I’d only felt, so I could taste her, then watch as I filled her.
Her cheeks were flushed.
She fumbled with her business bag.
She knew I was watching her.
I waited to see what she’d do.
Finally, she stopped pretending she didn’t know I was there and turned to face me, hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“Do you need something, Luke?” she asked, her voice businesslike and brisk.
“That’s a loaded question, Ina,” I said, taking a step into her room. “You sure you want me to answer it?”
Her mouth parted and she licked her lips. I don’t think she even realized she’d done it.
I decided I was right a split second later when she clenched her jaw and fixed her mouth back in that polite, businesslike smile. “I’ve already got quite a bit to get done tonight, so unless this is important...”
I closed the distance between us, sliding an arm around her waist.
She sucked in her breath, going silent.
“I do want something,” I said, pressing my mouth to her ear. “I want you naked. I want you under me. Over me. In front of me. On top of me. I want you kneeling on my face so I can eat your pussy or bending over in front of me so I can fuck you. Any way you want to give yourself to me, that’s what I want.”
She was shaking now.
I caught the lobe of her earlobe between my teeth and bit down gently.
“But the final decision is up to you. I’m going to my room. You come find me if you want me.”
Walking out of that room was the hardest damn thing I’d ever done.
Chapter Seventeen
Sabrina
I UNPACKED MY CLOTHES and tucked them into the dresser.
I rearranged them.
Twice.
I changed out of my dress and put on my rattiest pair of pajamas before storming into the bathroom to glare at my reflection.
My face was heated. My eyes were overbright. I almost looked like I had a fever.
In a way, I guess I did.
The kind inspired by lust.
Although this went deeper than lust. So much deeper. I’d only wanted him for like...forever.
I swallowed the whimper that rose to my lips as I relived those few minutes in the car.
How long had I dreamt about something like that?
Too long.
How many times had I hoped for just a chance with him?
Even one night.
I’d lost count of how many times I’d wished for just this.
And he was lying just feet away from me.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, staring at my flushed face.
My old, worn-out Donald Duck shirt hung from my shoulders and the duck seemed to me glaring at me, too, his feathered fists upraised and eyes angry. The stretched-out lounge pants had shadowy little ducks all over them but in my mind’s eye, I could imagine their consternation as well.
What are you doing, Thabrina? Donald seemed to be asking in his lisping, Donald-Duckish voice.
I groaned and covered my face with my hands.
Then, before I could change my mind, I stripped out of the silly, comfortable PJs and strode to the closet where half my wardrobe hung, airing out.
One of the bad things—or maybe one of the great things—about knowing Luke as well as did, about working for him as long as I had, was that I knew him intimately.
Granted, he’d been asked some intimate questions in interviews and some of the answers, plain and simple, were bullshit.
But others? Not so much. I’d been front and center a few times when Kelly teased him about those interviews.
One of those interviews had been all centered on what he found sexy in a woman.
Her laugh. Her smile. The way she looks at the world.
Kelly had asked if he hadn’t meant her C-cups or D-cups and he’d snorted. Any of that can be faked. But a real laugh? A real smile? That’s different. That’s something that matters.
Another question from the same interview. What’s the sexiest piece of clothing you can imagine taking off a woman?
He’d been blushing by that point, but he’d played along. I love seeing a woman in a man’s dress shirt. I’m one of those guys. I don’t know why it gets me. But it does.
Kelly had teased him about that one, too.
That was the bit of information I clung to now. I didn’t have any silk nighties, satin peignoirs or risqué teddies.
But I did have a dress shirt. Okay, sure, it wasn’t exactly a standard men’s dress shirt. It was actually a shirt-dress, cut like a dress shirt and made out of wrinkle-free material. I loved it, but when I’d tried it on, I realized it was a bit shorter than I was comfortable with as far as dresses went, so I only ever wore it with leggings.
My hands shook as I tugged it off the hanger and pulled it on.
Looking at my reflection, I took a deep breath.
It was obvious I wasn’t wearing a bra.
I gave a passing thought to makeup, then decided that was too obvious. Besides, if I waited much longer than the next few seconds, I’d chicken out. That might be the best thing, but then again, I’d rather look back and regret what I had done rather than what I hadn’t.
“Go on,” I told myself.
Almost fifteen minutes had passed.
The lights in the apartment were still mostly dim.
There was no TV.
No radio.
My nipples rubbed against the material of the shirt as I walked, so sensitive they hurt.
Each beat of my heart rammed against my rib cage with an intensity that stole my breath.
My breath squeezed out of my lungs only when I realized my chest was aching and I had to breathe or risk passing out.
The light at the end of the hall beckoned me and I focused on it.
I almost turned back five times.
But his voice, and the promise in it, lured me on.
Come find me if you want me.
Did I want him?
More than I wanted my next breath.
I might regret this in the morning. And if I didn’t tomorrow, the
n in a week, or a month...whenever this fairy tale ended.
But at least I’d have something to cling to, some tangible memory.
That had to count for something, right?
I came to a stop in the doorway, my eyes fighting to adjust to a light that was even dimmer than in the rest of the apartment.
“Ina.”
His voice was low and the sound of it scraped over my senses like sin, like sex, like whiskey-soaked velvet.
I could just barely make out the shadow of him on the bed.
“This is crazy,” I blurted out.
“Crazy is us both lying awake wanting each other and not doing shit about it.”
I’d lain awake wanting him for years and I’d never done a damn thing about it.
But then he’d kissed me, and the world as I knew it turned upside down.
I swallowed the knot in my throat and eased a little deeper into his room.
“What happens when we wake up?” I asked, reality still trying to creep in.
“We have breakfast. And I’ll probably want to fuck you—after, if not before. But that’s completely up to you.”
My knees went weak at the blunt, rough statement.
“Why?” I whispered. I don’t know why I couldn’t just let it go and enjoy. Luke Cochran, the man I’d wanted for years, the man I’d loved for years, wanted me. Why couldn’t I just enjoy? “Why me? Why now? And what happens when it’s over? Am I fired? Do I lose my job? What?”
I never even saw him move.
“You think I’d do that?” he whispered, suddenly right there. Not just in front of me, but surrounding me, arms bracketing my shoulders, planted over them while his hands pressed against the wall. “Hell, Ina. You’re my right hand. Fuck that. You’re my right arm, my right brain, the better part of me.”
“And what if this ruins it?” I whispered, watching him in the dim light.
“What if it doesn’t?”
The heat of his body reached out to mine.
I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut so tightly that little starbursts exploded behind my eyelids.
Fuck it, I decided. Feeling a little crazed, and a lot desperate, I grabbed his arms and tugged him closer. At the same time, I swayed toward him.
Cocksure (The Cochrans of Cocker County) Page 12