His thumb didn’t stop moving against my wrist, and his expression didn’t change. “I brought you up here because I wanted you beside me, not for any other reason.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
His searching gaze moved over my face. “I’m not going to lie to you. I’ll never lie to you. Yes, I want you, but there’s no time limit on it, no rule book. We go at your pace.” His gaze lingered on my lips for several seconds then lifted back up. “Do you want that, too, Stephanie? Do you want me?”
There was no point lying. I didn’t want to lie to him either. He deserved my honesty. “Yes, I want you.”
He cupped the side of my face and leaned in, brushing his lips over mine. “You have no idea how fucking happy that makes me.”
Tomas had a shower while I ate the breakfast he’d made me. I ate most of it, my appetite back in full swing this morning. I was putting the tray aside when the bathroom door opened and he walked out, hair damp, wearing only a towel. He said nothing, just moved around the room getting ready. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, the play of his muscles, the beautiful ink on his skin…
The towel dropped.
His back was to me, and dear God, was he gorgeous. I mean, this wasn’t news to me, but I’d never seen him completely naked. Long legs, solid thighs, muscled ass and back. He was like a sculpture, a painting.
I watched, riveted, as he pulled on boxer briefs then black trousers.
He turned around and, yep, the front was as beautiful as the back, which I also already knew. His abs tightened and I all but licked my lips as my gaze traveled up, taking in all that golden inked skin. I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to taste every inch, to trace those tattoos with my tongue. I carried on up, his throat, his chin, his lips…
My eyes clashed with his and they were smoldering.
“You keep looking at me like that and I’ll be forced to get back in that bed for a repeat of last night,” he said without a hint of a smile, just raw need staring back.
It should have scared me, intimidated me, because honestly I felt out of my depth with this man in every single way. Instead my body came alive. “You’re just…you’re so beautiful.”
His nostrils flared and he strode toward me, pulling me to my feet when I was in reach. Then he kissed me, hard and hot and deep, his tongue tangling with mine until my legs were shaking and my head was spinning.
When he tore his mouth from mine, we were both panting. I blinked up at him, trying to clear my head.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so fucking long.” He slid the pad of his thumb across my kiss-swollen bottom lip. “You okay with that?”
I nodded, still feeling dazed. “Yes.”
His lips curled up. “You taste like heaven.”
I licked mine where his thumb had been, and he growled softly.
“Stay up here if you want. Sleep some more. I’ll be in my office downstairs if you need me.”
I nodded, and was still nodding as he strode out of the room.
Could I really do this? Could I let him in?
I wasn’t sure I knew how to, how to let anyone close anymore. How to trust someone with every part of me.
But I realized I wanted to try. So bad it hurt.
* * *
“Add the flour then fold it in,” the woman said, her kitchen perfectly clean and a bright smile on her face.
I hit pause, leaving a floury fingerprint on the screen of my phone, and dumped a cup of flour in the mixing bowl. Arthur had hovered around me, looking stressed as I’d unloaded ingredients onto the counter, but had finally given up and left me to it after egg number two met its untimely demise on the floor by the fridge.
What can I say? I don’t do a lot of baking, or cooking of any kind for that matter—not anymore. But I’d woken up this morning after a really great sleep and felt energized. I was sure there was no correlation between my current mood and the fact I’d woken up in Tomas’s bed, right?
Riiiiiight.
I wanted to thank Tomas for being there for me, and since the man had everything, this was what I’d come up with. I knew he liked my chocolate muffins because I used to make them for Dad years ago when Tomas still worked for him. Tomas had loved them, and he’d always come back for seconds.
It was the only thing I knew how to make well. Unfortunately, I’d needed the help of a video this morning, since the recipe was back at my apartment. I looked around the kitchen. Maybe I’d gone a little overboard?
There were a dozen cooling on a rack, another batch in the oven, and a third in the bowl in front of me. God, he’d think I’d lost it. I winced and glanced at the clock. 3:00 p.m.
I’d been in here most of the day. Grabbing a tub of frosting, I got to work icing one. I’d just drop one off to Tomas, then finish up and clean the mess I’d made. My belly flipped at the thought of seeing him again, which was ridiculous. It had only been a few hours. Five and a half, to be precise. Yep, I’d been counting.
What are you doing, Stephanie?
I ignored the voice in my head, put the now-frosted muffin on a plate, and headed to Tomas’s office. The door was open and there were murmured voices coming from inside. Probably Arthur telling on me for messing up his kitchen. I poked my head around the door.
Tomas stood in front of his desk, body rigid, expression dark, hard. The man standing across from him said something and Tomas’s expression caused goose bumps to skitter down my spine. This wasn’t the Tomas who watched movies with me, who carried me to his bed, who’d gently kissed me at the foot of the stairs. This was the ruthless crime boss. A man who demanded respect and leveled anyone that tried to get in his way.
I’d seen him do business in the club. I’d seen people avoid him while he sat there waiting for me, afraid to even look his way. I knew what and who he was. Still, it was startling to see it here now.
“You have a fucking nerve coming to my home like this,” he said voice low, deadly.
The other man took a step back. “I thought…I just thought…”
“Next time use the fucking phone.” His eyes hadn’t wavered from the other man. “Get the fuck out.”
The man spun around, striding toward me. He paused when he saw me, then quickly averted his eyes. I watched him rush out the door, shutting it behind him.
I turned back to Tomas. He was standing in the same place, but now his dark eyes were on me. I couldn’t read them, but my belly squirmed.
I held the plate up lamely. “I, ah…I made you some muffins.”
His gaze slid from mine to the muffin and back. His lids lowered for a couple of seconds and his chest expanded on a sharp breath. Then those eyes were back on me. “Come here,” he said.
“I’m sorry if I…I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting or whatever…”
“Come here, Stephanie.”
It was a command, but there was no anger in his voice. The low, rough edge to it had zaps of electricity shooting through my belly. I could see him trying to pull back, to shake off whatever I’d just seen, but he was still there. Oh, he was definitely still there, and he was beckoning me to him.
My feet were moving in his direction before my mind registered what I was doing, until I was standing in front of him. I held the single muffin up in front of us.
“You made this for me?” he asked, not actually looking down at it, his gaze still on me. He was searching my eyes, my face. He wanted to know if I’d seen the interaction, if it frightened me. If he frightened me. He hadn’t. I could never be afraid of Tomas. He would never hurt me or mistreat me. There was no doubt in my mind about that. That man, the one I’d just seen, was who came for me when I needed him most, who was protecting me now. How could I think less of him for that?
I nodded, holding his direct gaze, wanting him to see it for himself. “Well, I made a couple of dozen, actually. I thought you might like one now.”
His nostrils flared and I knew he saw it. My acceptance. It pleased him. “How do t
hey taste?” he said.
“Do you remember…” My face heated, and suddenly I was that sixteen-year-old girl again, trying to impress the hot tattooed guy who worked for my dad. “I used to make them for Dad and drop them off to him at work.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, this isn’t the same recipe, but I tried to find one close to it.”
“Do I remember when my boss’s beautiful, innocent, tempting as fuck daughter used to drop off chocolate muffins? In summer, wearing short pretty floral dresses or shorts that hugged her ass? In winter, coats that made me hungry to see what she wore underneath?” He licked his lips. “When seeing that girl was the highlight of my shitty life, and every time she came to see her dad I’d lock it away, those images, and take her home with me.”
I blinked up at him, heart pounding. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
He tucked my hair behind my ear. “And later, when I went to bed at night, I’d imagine she was mine, that that pure, innocent, fucking gorgeous girl was mine. I’d imagine the beautiful, warm smiles she gave her dad were for me. I’d imagine taking her out on dates, picking her up in my car after school. Laughing, holding her hand, kissing her. Taking her for rides, parking up somewhere, stripping those pretty floral dresses off her, and uncovering all her secrets.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek. “I’d stroke myself with those images in my head, desperate for my next glimpse of you.” He shook his head. “Do I remember? Yeah, Angel, I remember. I remember ever single time I laid eyes on you. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.”
I stood there speechless, feeling almost dizzy. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but I knew it was the truth. It was there in his eyes.
“So?” he said. “How do they taste?”
“What?”
His beautiful mouth curled up. “The muffins?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
He glanced down, swiped his finger through the frosting, brought it to my mouth, and carefully smeared it over my bottom lip. My tongue darted out, tasting the sugary goodness automatically, and Tomas’s eyes darkened.
“Good?”
I nodded.
God, I wanted him to kiss me, and he wanted it, too. I could see it in his eyes. If I wanted something I needed to ask for it. I’d forgotten how. For so long, I’d been letting life happen to me. I realized that for the last year Tomas had been waiting for that from me. He’d been waiting for me to tell him I was ready, for him, for this.
I’d nearly lost my chance.
Hand trembling, I did the same as Tomas, scooping a little of the frosting up, bringing it to my mouth, and sliding it across my lower lip. I lifted my chin, looking up at him, doing my damnedest to exude confidence. Given it was fueled by a lust so intense my legs shook, it wasn’t as hard as I thought, because right then I needed him. This went way beyond want.
“Why don’t you try it for yourself?” I said.
A breath huffed from his nose and his dark gaze dropped to my mouth. “I want to, fuck, do I want to.” His eyes lifted back to mine. “But kissing you won’t be enough, not today, not when all I’ve been able to think about is the sweet way you kissed me last night. The fucking sweeter way you came for me on top of my desk. And not after some asshole who can’t follow instructions came to my home, compromising my security, and putting you at risk.” His gaze dropped to my lip again then back up. “I’m on edge, Angel, and if I kiss you, I’m gonna want to make you come. Because leaving you in my room this morning, in my bed, the way you looked there?” He shook his head. “That’s all I’ve been able to think about. And honestly, it’s taken everything in me not to come find you.”
“Find me?” I whispered, the pulse between my thighs a steady beat that had me swaying closer.
“You have no idea, do you? Christ, I want to drop to my knees and make you come against my mouth so bad I fucking ache. The last thing I want to do is pressure you, but that’s just where I’m at right now, this moment. If that’s too much for you, if you’re not ready, I need you to leave my office. I’ll pull my shit together and then I’ll come find you, and I’ll kiss you sweet and slow and hot and we’ll watch a movie, and I’ll love every fucking second of it. But not now. I can’t give you sweet now.”
I could see that saying that to me tormented him, but he meant every word of it. And I knew that I could pull him down and kiss him hard and he’d still let me walk away. Despite what he said, he’d never force anything on me. But at this moment, he wanted more.
Pressing my hand to his chest, I curled my fingers in his shirt and tilted my head back. “I’m not leaving,” I said to him.
He wasn’t the only one who wanted more.
9
Stephanie
He didn’t ask if I was sure. He didn’t assume I didn’t know my own mind. No, Tomas curled an arm around my waist, tugged me closer, and dropped his face to the side of my neck, growling softly when he felt the shiver move through me.
“Fuck, you smell good,” he said, then lifted me off my feet and kicked his office door closed on the way to the couch opposite his desk.
He didn’t lower me straight away, though. He hitched me higher so my legs had nowhere to go but around his waist, and thrust his fingers in my hair. His other hand went to my ass so he could hold me up while his lips moved up my neck, finishing at my ear. “Ready for that kiss, Angel?”
I nodded, shivering again when his cheek slid across mine. I gripped his wide shoulders as heat curled low in my belly, anticipation spiraling behind my ribs. Then his mouth was brushing mine, sucking off the frosting, coming back again and again, but maddeningly not taking it deeper, until my heart was racing and I was squirming against that strong hand still gripping my ass.
He made a rough sound in the back of his throat before licking the seam of my lips. I opened for him eagerly, desperate for more, and his tongue swept inside.
Oh God. I ignited. I clung to him, completely lost, kissing him back with everything I had. My fingers were in his hair, fisting, trying to tug him closer when there was nothing between us. I ground against him, moaning at the feel of his hard cock between my thighs, and sucked his tongue, whimpering into his mouth.
He pulled away with a sound that was almost a snarl and lowered me to the cushions. Tomas stood between my spread thighs, looking down at me with dark fire burning in his eyes. A warning, a promise of what was to come? Whatever was about to happen, I wanted it. I spread my thighs wider and reached for him. “Please,” I whispered, afraid he’d change his mind, try to be noble or something, that he’d deny me and leave me like this.
He dropped to his knees on the carpet between my thighs. “You never need to beg with me, Stephanie, never. All you have to do is ask and it’s yours.”
It was the truth. I knew it, could see it. He’d never leave me wanting in any way.
His gaze didn’t leave mine as he popped the button of my jeans and slid down the zipper. My breath hitched, excitement and anticipation filling me when he gripped the waistband and tugged them and my underwear down my legs, and threw them aside.
His gaze dropped to my bare pussy and he hissed, fingers flexing against my thighs.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted a taste of you? How many times I imagined doing this?” He leaned in and planted a sucking kiss to the inside of my thigh, making me moan and squirm. He moved higher, giving me more of those sucking kisses as his hands slid up the outside of my thighs and burrowed under my ass so he could grip my cheeks.
“How long?” I said, so turned on and dizzy with lust I thought I might die if he didn’t put his mouth on me right now.
His eyes flared, tongue sliding across his bottom lip. “First time I saw you. You were sixteen. You walked into your dad’s workshop, all that red hair down and wild, little cutoff shorts cupping your virgin pussy so fucking nice. I got hard just looking at you.”
My breathing grew ragged, his words setting another pulsing wave of liquid heat between my thighs.
“It wasn�
�t right, I shouldn’t have even looked at you, but how could I not? When you were like the fucking sun. You brought light and warmth with you, brightening up my dark shitty world. And fuck, Angel, you took it all away, every time you left. So yeah, it was wrong, but I was a fucked-up punk who could only dream of a girl like you.” He tugged me forward and dropped lower, trailing his nose along my thigh. He stilled momentarily when he saw the scar there, then he kissed it gently, his breathing growing even more ragged. His eyes lifted to mine. “So that’s what I did,” he rasped, using his shoulders to spread my legs wider. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you, Stephanie. That never changed, not in all these years.”
His words hit me hard, so hard all I could do was look down at him as shaky breaths rushed from between my lips, my body trembling with need, with emotion.
Then words were impossible, because he freed one of his hands from under me, gently parted my pussy, and buried his face between my thighs on a groan.
I bucked, my fingers delving into his hair, and threw my head back on a needy moan as he licked and sucked, teasing me beyond all reason. I looked down, watching him, the most erotic sight I’d ever seen. His tattooed hand was gripping my thigh; the other holding me up against his mouth. His eyes were closed, dark lashes resting on his cheeks, and the way he licked me was like he couldn’t get enough. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
He sucked my clit, and I cried out. When my fingers tightened on his hair in response and I tugged him closer because all my self-control had left me, he groaned in a rough way that was so erotic I thought I could come from just that sound alone, that it couldn’t get any better.
I was so wrong.
One long, thick finger pushed inside my pussy, and he wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked. His gaze lifted to me, and a cry burst from my throat. I couldn’t look away. He fucked me with his finger, his hot, dark gaze on me, watching, taking it all in, and I loved it. Then he slipped in a second finger, thrusting deep, rubbing a spot inside that had me gasping for breath and grinding down on his hand, and God, that beautiful mouth.
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