by Ava Gray
Bullshit. There was no such thing where she was concerned, no more than an arsonist could set a small fire, or a junkie could stop at one fix, just enough to take the edge off. And Taye felt every bit as compulsive where she was concerned. The long months of denial were driving him insane. He broke her hold on him gently and stepped away.
Taye winked, donning the cocky mask he wore when the pain bit deepest. Thank God she hasn’t figured that out yet. It’d be the end of me. “I guess I gotta come clean. You’re too much woman for me.”
She liked the implied compliment; he saw it in the proud little lift of her head. “I might be, but I could teach you to handle the pressure.”
“Maybe. Like I said, just give me a little time.”
The one thing he didn’t have. Such irony curled his mouth in a bitter smile, but he turned away before she could read his face. Keep your secrets. Keep her safe. It didn’t seem like too much weight for a dying man.
“What now?”
“I’m gonna go shovel the drive.” Exertion would help, although it wasn’t the kind he wanted or needed. Excess sexual energy might give him an embolism before their contact arrived, and it would take all his mental acuity to keep Gillie from figuring out his game. “We want our contact to be able to get to the house once the weather clears for good.”
“Need some help?”
He wouldn’t try to shield her from hard work. Her message had penetrated in that regard, at least. Gillie had to be free to do what she wanted, what she chose to do. “If there are two shovels, sure. Otherwise there’s no point in you standing in the cold.”
And she appreciated the shift in his attitude. Gillie beamed a smile at him, and it made his heart twist in his chest. Another man would one day claim all those smiles, all her kisses. He’d have everything, and that inevitable outcome made Taye want to set the whole world on fire, nothing but scarlet flames, from Atlantic to Pacific. But that was the monster talking. He strangled it to silence.
“I’ll bundle up. Then we can check the shed.”
It didn’t take long to get ready for outdoor work. Just his luck, there were two shovels. His and hers. Which meant more time in her company. But she seemed to like the physical force. Though she’d had a treadmill in her little apartment, apart from washing dishes at McGinty’s, she’d never done much in the real world. Never shoveled snow or felt chill wind on her face, kindling brightness to her eyes and the roses in her cheeks. To her, this probably felt like freedom.
Later, after they shifted the snow to clear a path, then warmed up with tea and leftover macaroni, Taye landed in the unenviable position of entertaining Gillie in a way that didn’t end with both of them naked. The safe house, while plenty safe, didn’t offer many amenities. When he suggested TV, she glared at him.
“No. Nyet. Nunca. I’d rather take a beating than watch another minute of TV.”
Fuck. He’d forgotten it had comprised her chief entertainment and company for so many years. Yeah, that was right out. Let’s see, there has to be something else we can do . . .
But while he searched the dusty bookshelves, she went into the kitchen and came back with a wine bottle. Oh no. She wasn’t getting him drunk to take advantage of him. Pained self-disgust washed over him. When had he become a fucking Victorian spinster afraid to show his ankles? It should not be this hard to stave off her advances.
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”
“Bullshit. This looks old, which is supposed to be good for wine, right? So let’s see if age made it delicious. And while we drink, we’ll play Truth or Dare.”
The words rang a faint bell in his memory, but he wasn’t positive what she meant. Best to make sure. “What’s that?”
“It’s a game kids play. Usually, at least according to TV, they make each other do gross, embarrassing stuff. Or answer awkward questions.”
“I’ll have to take a lot of dares,” he reminded her.
“Doesn’t that depend on what I ask?”
Without awaiting his reply, she headed back to the kitchen, presumably for glasses. He heard her rummaging in the cupboards, then water ran. Rinsing them, maybe. When she appeared in the doorway, her cheeks were flushed pink, and she held a corkscrew in her teeth. I can’t deny her this, he realized. As long as it didn’t end in sex, Taye figured he could give her some of the fun she’d missed. Even if he was acutely conscious they were not children.
The glasses, she set on the pasteboard coffee table. He took charge of the bottle and the corkscrew. Though he didn’t think he’d used the device often, he managed to open it and decant the wine without making a huge mess. The vintage smelled strong, a rich ruby red in the glasses.
Gillie took a sip and her nose wrinkled. “Is this supposed to be good?”
How the fuck would I know? Somehow he suspected he hadn’t been a fine-wine guy in his past life. Still, he tried it and offered his best guess. “I think. Probably?”
“It’s funny.”
“What?”
“I feel like we’re both discovering the world for the first time.”
“So we are.”
“And how do you feel about wine?”
“I don’t mind it. But I like the lager I had at McGinty’s better.” But he took another drink because the spreading warmth appealed to him.
It uncoiled his muscles and made him worry less about what would come. Before he knew it, he’d downed the entire glass. Gillie watched him with a faint half smile, half of hers still remaining.
“More?”
“I better not.”
“Then let’s start the game. Truth or dare?”
“How does this work anyway? I just have to pick blind?”
“I think so.”
“Truth, then.” He figured it would probably progress to dare when he couldn’t remember the answer.
“If you could do anything you wanted with me, what would that be?” No mistaking the sexual charge in her eyes or the provocative tilt of her head.
Aw, fuck. She’d come up with a new way to torment him. This was, absolutely and for certain, not a children’s version of the game. But maybe he could have some fun with this. From her intent expression, she wanted to hear him talk about the dirty stuff. Yeah, he could work with this, strictly no touching. Just words.
Taye raked her from head to toe with his gaze. Anything he wanted? “I love looking at you, so I’d make you get naked. And then I’d make you sit on that chair”—he pointed to a ladder-back in the corner of the room—“and play with yourself while I watched you get off.”
Her breath caught, her cheeks flushing a deeper pink. “Really? That’s what you’d want, out of anything at all?”
“Right now? Yeah.”
If she asked the follow-up question in the next round, if she asked why, he’d have to answer, because I can have that. She watched the chair with unnerving intensity, and then she downed the rest of her wine. Dutch courage, maybe. But maybe his desires diverged down a different path from hers, and she didn’t need it.
“Your turn.”
This game might wind up being fun after all. “Truth or dare, Gillie-girl?”
Her full, rosy mouth curved into a smile. “Dare.”
Taye wondered if she thought he wouldn’t go there. But she’d set the tone, after all. If she’d opened with a question about his favorite sandwich, they wouldn’t be hovering on the cusp of a challenge so hot that he felt like his head might explode.
“I dare you to shuck your clothes, go sit in that chair, and execute my truth.”
CHAPTER 11
He doesn’t think I will.
But Gillie had enough wine in her to make it seem sexy. Some people got off on watching; maybe Taye did. The way her body responded to the idea, she might be one of the others, one who enjoyed being watched. After a lifetime of surveillance, she’d never have guessed it would be the case, but it wouldn’t with just anyone. Only for Taye could she consider putting on such an intimate show—and possibly not
if she were fully sober. She eased to her feet and walked to the center of the room.
Confidence. Certainty. She peeled out of her sweats slowly, top first. No bra, of course. Which meant in one more garment, she would be naked in front of him, but it wasn’t the first time. He sat very still, hardly breathing, as she worked the pants down her hips. A lift of her thigh, and they pooled on the hardwood floor.
Starting to relish the display, she ran her fingers gently through her pubic hair, fluffing it. Gillie became aware how soft it was, fine down, barely there. She didn’t have enough to hide what she was doing.
“Sit down,” he said softly. “Legs open.”
Amending his script, she brought the chair to the center of the room, just on the other side of the coffee table, so she could prop one leg. If he leaned forward, he would be close enough to touch. By his tormented expression, he realized that as well.
“I’ve never done it this way,” she admitted, breathless. “I’ve only ever come on my stomach . . . or in your mouth.”
A groan escaped him. “But you’ll try for me.”
“Of course. That was the dare.”
Eyes locked on his, she spread as he’d requested and stretched her right leg out, her foot braced on the table’s edge. He licked his lips, and that little motion sent heat straight to her cunny. She’d heard that word in a period drama, one with lots of sex and treachery, and that was the term she used in her own head, though it was a little silly and old-fashioned.
Without hesitation, she touched her labia. Dew misted them slightly, but when she parted them, the wetness grew more intense. Gillie slid her thumb up and down, gone breathless at the sensations. She’d never done this. Ever. And it felt so delicious, especially beneath his hot, hungry stare. At first she stroked up and down, getting to know her body. His breathing rasped in the silence, adding to the soft, slick sounds created by her explorations. She imagined these were his fingers, and the sensations spiked with new ferocity.
She slid down in the chair a little, giving herself a better angle and him a better view. He murmured his appreciation in low, guttural tones. Sweet words, encouraging ones. This time, she tapped her clit, gentle little strikes that sent sparks rolling through her pelvis. Would it be too dirty to use both hands? One to stroke up and down, the other to play right there? By his moan, she guessed not as she brought her other hand into the action.
Reaching down, she worked her index finger inside, marveling at the smooth heat. It hadn’t hurt when Taye touched her the other night; it didn’t now. Just then, Gillie could only be grateful that it felt so fucking good. The pleasure swirled higher, and she forgot about putting on a show, forgot he was watching. She whimpered a little as she discovered the rhythm she liked best, both within and without. Throwing her head back, she worked her hips, utterly without shame or inhibition.
“You’re getting close, aren’t you?” His voice was a low, sexy growl.
“Yeah.” Breathless agreement.
“You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Come on now, Gillie. Come on.”
With her eyes closed and Taye urging her on, she tightened her thighs on her hand, bearing down with the other, and that did it. Just the right pressure. She came endlessly, sobbing his name. By the time her body steadied, cool sweat covered her skin.
“Well?” she challenged. “Did I win?”
He laughed shakily. “I think I did.”
She felt incredibly content. “Call it a draw and pour me some more wine.”
His gaze devoured her as she dressed and went to wash her hands. When she returned, another glass of red awaited her. She sat beside him on the sofa, and without meaning to, she skimmed a look at his lap. Oh, how lovely. There was no hiding his arousal in gray sweats.
“It’s your turn,” he said, “unless you’re done playing.”
Gillie sipped her wine. “I’m just getting started.”
“I was afraid of that.” But he didn’t sound scared. Instead, anticipation radiated from him in glowing waves. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see lightning crackle from his fingers.
“So truth or dare, then?”
“After what you just did, truth would be a pussy move, wouldn’t it? Dare.”
Mmm. She had high hopes for this evening. “Only fair for you to show me yours, wouldn’t you agree?”
He raised a brow. “Are you allowed to turn the same stunt back on me?”
“Do you really care about the rules? Don’t you want to?”
From his visceral response and the tension of his body, he did. He considered for a few seconds, eyes distant, then he stood and circled the coffee table. She sat back as he had, obeying the unspoken rules. Look, but don’t touch. Admire, but don’t move.
He only wore those gray sweats, and they came off fast. His body carried numerous scars; a small pucker on his side looked like a scar from a gunshot wound. His skin told secrets his brain had long since forgotten; but maybe that was for the best. By the look of him, it wasn’t a happy tale. And yet he was so beautiful it hurt. He had little body hair and a broad, gorgeous chest, tapering to lean hips and tautly muscled legs.
She had seen erect penises before, but only in pictures. His took her breath away. At this distance, there were more veins than she’d expected, and his balls hung heavy between his thighs. Taye sat as she had, but he slid down farther, a frown building. She gleaned from his impatience that the straight chair wasn’t the best place for him.
“Would the couch be better?” she whispered. “I can move to the other end.”
“Yeah.” His voice held a raw, guttural note, as if each delay caused him pain.
Belatedly, she remembered he hadn’t come the night before, so he must be desperate for relief. Gillie wanted to provide it, but she’d play the game by his rules. Hands off, for now.
He retraced his steps and sank down on the far edge, angling his body so she could see his erection. The tip glistened slightly, and he hadn’t even touched it yet. Taye slid into a slouch, his head resting on the back of the sofa. He slitted his eyes, still focused on her, and wrapped his hand around his cock.
A pained sound escaped him. “How do you want it? Slow? Or should I just go for it?”
Torn, she hesitated. But from the restless movements of his hips, she thought he needed the latter. So she said, “I want to see how quick you can come.”
“Thank you,” he breathed.
He stroked hard, more pressure than she would’ve guessed could feel good, and so fast his hand became a blur, pumping up and down. She wanted to lick his thighs, to bite and nuzzle and cup his testicles in her hands. She feared even blinking, afraid she would miss something delicious. His abdominal muscles tensed as he worked, his face fierce with pleasure. Soon his breath came in loud rasps, punctuated by the sound of his fist on his cock.
“Watch me,” he whispered. “Don’t look away.”
“I won’t. You’re beautiful.”
“Tell me you like it, Gillie.”
“I do. I’m imagining how lovely you’d feel inside me.”
At that, he gave a pained groan and lifted his hips, hunching upward even more furiously. “I’m your first.”
“You are. Only you.” She saw how her words fueled his urgency and she gave him more. “You’re going to fuck me so hard.”
His eyes opened, wide with this wild longing. That look begged for the rest, a verbal picture of what she could only imagine. But for him, she’d try.
“Feels so good. Don’t stop.”
“It doesn’t hurt?”
Faster now, harder still. Impossible to conceive that felt good, the rough way he tugged and pulled. But she’d know not to be too gentle with him later.
“No, love. It’s perfect. I need you.”
As if those words constituted the key to his release, he roared and bucked, coming in long waves. He tensed and jerked, the fluid coating his fingers, belly, and chest. Without being asked, she got a damp cloth and handed it to him. God
, he was magnificent in repose, the essence of masculine beauty. The air of leashed violence that always clung to him dissipated somewhat as well. He reminded her of a well-fed lion, indolent after a kill. Taye cleaned up with languid motions and then slipped back into his sweats. Then his eyes drifted shut and his head fell back against the couch once more.
Cuddling up would be the perfect end to the game, but she wasn’t brave enough to see how he’d respond. It couldn’t always be her, reaching for him. There had to be some reciprocation. So she merely sat down with every appearance of calm, although his reaction would determine their course, going forward, whether this was the start of something, or its end.
Taye watched her through his lashes. Though he knew later he’d probably regret what they’d done, right then, he felt pretty damn good. But she seemed nervous. Without realizing he’d made a decision, he leaned over and anchored her to his side. Her coppery curls spilled across his skin, soft as silk. He was pretty sure nothing in the world had ever been so good. He ran his hand through her hair, watching as the red strands feathered around his fingers. So pretty. She was made for sunshine and smiles.
“Here’s the deal,” he said lazily. “No dares, because that would require moving. But I’ll give you more truth.”
“It’s your turn anyway.”
So it is.
He thought about what he wanted to know most and shied away from the question. So he settled for the next best thing. Taye would take her in slivers and glimpses, like light glimpsed through a tangle of tree limbs at dusk. “What’s your dearest memory?”
Gillie curled into him, resting her head on his chest, and he had the wild idea that for him it would be the memory they were making right now. No matter what came after, the gentle grace of her weight against his side, her heart beating in time with his, nothing could ever be sweeter. He’d take this moment to his grave.
“After I got out of the hospital for the last time. I was cured, not just in remission. My parents were so happy.” She paused, face gentle with reminiscence. “On the way home, my dad stopped at a doughnut shop. I hadn’t been able to eat much for so long, but before I got sick, he’d bring home a dozen on Sunday mornings before church. It was two in the afternoon, and we had doughnuts for lunch because we could.”