Resisting Fate

by Kylie Gilmore

  He swore, finally got the bra free, tossed it and dove in, cupping her breasts with both hands before lowering his head and suckling. Her breath ragged, her body bowed, need sharper than she’d ever felt spearing through her, she pushed at his shoulders. The moment he eased back, she undid her jeans, grabbed his hand and thrust it inside her panties.

  His eyes dark with desire, he spoke against her lips. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

  “So fuck me.”

  He pushed her back on the cool marble island and worked off her jeans and panties. She immediately sat up, yanking his jeans and boxer briefs down. She reached for him and he pulled back.

  “One minute,” he said through his teeth.

  “Hopefully more than that,” she purred. She reached for him again, but he remained frustratingly out of reach.

  He snagged his jeans from the floor, pulled a condom from his wallet, and ripped it open.

  She had a moment—a very brief moment—of self-recrimination for forgetting the condom, but watching him roll it on, thick and ready, the throbbing between her legs intensified. Sharp need trounced everything. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me,” she told him.

  He grunted, finally sheathed himself, then grabbed her, their mouths slamming together as he lifted her partway off the island and thrust fully inside. She broke the kiss, desperate for air. His eyes were hot on hers, his entire body tense as he held himself in check. She didn’t want that. She wanted wild. She wrapped her legs around him and kissed him hard. He got the message, thrusting fast and hard and deep. She threw her head back, panting, the tension inside her coiling higher and higher. Hot and hard and unbelievably good.

  His voice gravelly, he urged her on. “Come with me.”

  “You go ahead,” she gasped out.

  “With me,” he bit out.

  She closed her eyes, knowing he asked the impossible, there was very little chance of—

  He lifted her off him and set her back on her feet. Before she could protest, he turned her around and bent her over the island, taking her in one quick thrust. His body covered hers, his breath hot by her ear. “Let me know what you like, sexy thing.”

  She felt herself flush at his new nickname for her. He thrust slow and deep, lifting her off the island just enough to cup her breasts with both hands.

  “I bet you’re luscious everywhere,” he murmured.

  “Faster,” she said. She liked wild, no time for talking.

  He pinched her nipple tightly, making her gasp as his other hand slid between her legs, his fingers moving in soft controlled circles. The contrast of rough and gentle made her brain shut down as raw sensations took over. His fingers released their tight hold, massaging her breast, moving to the other breast, rolling and tugging her nipple. A soft moan escaped her lips.

  “That’s it,” he crooned in her ear, “keep talking to me.” His teeth scraped the side of her neck before he thrust again, harder this time.

  Her head dropped as she surrendered to the pleasure he gave, understanding he wanted to please her.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “Now you’re with me.”

  He pinched her nipple and she moaned again. He surged within her, filling her more, bringing a delicious ache. He continued playing with her nipple, her insides tightening in response, her moans louder now as his fingers between her legs became more demanding, stroking faster and faster until her entire body trembled, tightening around him. Too much, she thought desperately. White-hot sensations arced through her as he thrust over and over and over, his fingers rocking her, rushing pleasure flooding her body in a tidal wave. A harsh cry ripped from her throat, his deep voice urging her on.

  She came hard, ears ringing, heart thundering, her entire body shuddering with the intensity.

  “Fuck yes,” he growled, grabbing her hips, pounding into her, bringing aftershocks of pleasure so intense she felt it building again, the tension of another release just out of reach. His hand slipped around, pressing firmly against her with each thrust. The sounds she made were primal, sounds she’d never made in her life, and his response was immediate, amping up the intensity, pushing her for more and more. The orgasm shattered her, an explosion of pleasure radiating through her body all the way down to her toes, leaving her shaky and weak. He pulled her tight against him, surging into her for his own release with a guttural sound of male satisfaction.

  She tried to catch her breath as he loosened his hold on her hips. She rested against the cool island, soothing her overheated body, shaky and stunned. He was still inside her, covering her with his body to press a kiss to her shoulder. She sighed.

  A moment later, he eased himself off her and pulled out, saying, “Be right back.” Probably to get rid of the condom.

  She straightened and turned, leaning against the island, working on pulling herself together. She didn’t want him to take advantage of her shaky state. Her limbs were heavy, her defenses down, raw and vulnerable. She didn’t trust her legs yet.

  When she finally felt up to retrieving her scattered clothes, he returned, surprising her yet again. He strode directly to her, no hesitation, still naked, and immediately pulled her into his arms, enveloping her in pure radiant love. His hugs were unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She relaxed, the shaky feeling gone. She wanted to stay like that forever. A trickle of anxiety crept in at the thought.

  He spoke, his voice a deep rumble through his chest. “Holy crap!”

  She laughed. “Holy crap is right.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Later that night, after eating some leftover turkey-day stuff and not managing to keep his hands off Missy despite both of them being fully dressed, they mutually agreed to take it upstairs. Round one in the kitchen had been fast and furious, inevitable after all their pent-up sexual tension, but Ben planned on taking his time this next go-round.

  Nope.

  The minute they stepped into his bedroom, they slammed together, mouths hungry, hands grabbing, ripping each other’s clothes off. They fell into bed, or maybe he pushed her or she pulled him. It was all a frantic hot blur. He had to get control or he wouldn’t last long enough to get her off.

  He lifted his head, already panting, half on top of her. “No rushing this time.”

  “Fuck me.”

  He swept his thumb over her plump lower lip. The mouth on her, so brazen, so sexy. What had she said before? She spoke all men’s language? Like she always wanted mindless fucking, fast and hard. Did she really get off that way? Because it seemed like it had taken some extra-special Ben treatment to get her there before. He kissed her, and she grabbed his ass, pulling him close, her legs spreading for him. His heartbeat roared in his ears. He’d never wanted with this intensity, dangerously close to mindlessly pounding into her. That wasn’t him. He always wanted to make sure it was mutual pleasure.

  He pulled her grabbing hands from him and pinned them over her head, taking control.

  “Let go!” she hollered at the top of her lungs.

  He instantly let go, alarmed. “Sorry.” Shit. She must’ve had a bad experience.

  She looked away, her voice raw. “I will end this right now and you will be in serious pain.”

  “My bad. I won’t do that again. Promise.”

  She turned back to him, wary.

  “I’m harmless, remember?”

  She let out a breath and closed her eyes. “It’s a reflex. I’m good. Kiss me again.”

  He cupped her cheek and kissed her gently. She accepted the kiss, but she wasn’t kissing him back like before with wild abandon.

  He stroked her hair back from her face. “I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”

  She opened her eyes and nodded.

  He brushed his lips over hers, once, twice, coaxing them open before deepening the kiss. She warmed quickly, her fingers running through his hair, kissing him back. He did that for a long while until he was sure she was feeling better about him. Then he placed soft kisses on her temple, her nose, her cheeks
, her jaw, watching her relax. He whispered near her ear, “I’m going to kiss and taste every inch of your sexy body, and your hands will be free the entire time to do whatever you want.” He met her eyes. “Sound good?”

  A small smile played over her lips, the sight so welcome he found himself smiling back. Until she said, “Sounds boring.”

  He dropped his jaw, feigning offense. “I’ll show you boring.”

  He tickled her and she shrieked, wiggling like crazy, and then he hugged her until she let out a soft sigh. That was the signal he needed, so he went for it, stroking and licking every inch of her, loving the feel of her softness, breathing in her flowery scent, tasting a sexy woman on the verge of wild abandon with every moan, every shiver, every time her fingers ran through his hair. He knew he had her when she started grabbing at his shoulders, trying to pull him in.

  “Not done yet,” he told her, letting his tongue take another lap around her nipple. “You’ll have to wait.”

  That was when she started the dirty talk and touching herself. She was a temptress, her voice dripping sex, making his cock so fucking hard as she told him how much she wanted him inside her, how hot and wet she was for him, how hard she was going to ride him.

  Sheer willpower had him finishing his exploration before he practically dove between her legs, his mouth seeking her out, needing her to get off before his control snapped. He made her tremble, then got her to full-throated glorious feminine bliss, her entire body shuddering with a hard climax. Only then did he fuck her. Or she fucked him. It was hard to tell.

  He started out on top. Then she flipped him over with some ninja wrestling move that nearly ended the whole night right there, her knee dangerously close to unmanning him. Luckily he had fast reflexes. “Tell me when you want to change positions,” he barked.

  “I want to change positions,” she barked back.

  Then she was on top. Then they rolled, sort of wrestle fucking, and he was on top when she suddenly declared she couldn’t come that way.

  “I can make you come in any position,” he informed her with utmost confidence. He knew women, and he was fast getting to know this woman in particular.

  To which she replied, “Sitting up.”

  So he sat up, she climbed on his lap, and then somehow he was flat on his back, Missy on top again, riding him hard. The moment she tightened around him, he let go, the power of his release roaring through him, heart thundering, breath harsh. Mind-blowingly awesome.

  He tried to catch his breath, feeling like he’d been through a hard-core wrestling match where they both won. It was unlike any roll in the sheets he’d ever had, and he couldn’t help wondering what the next time would be like. Shit. There wouldn’t be a next time. One night, no sleeping over. His euphoria dimmed a bit. He focused on the fact that Missy was the kind of woman who didn’t require the hassle of spending the night, which was a relief. How the hell anyone got any sleep all tangled up with another person, he still hadn’t figured out. Plus he’d have to share stuff, the bathroom for one, his personal sleeping space for another. He’d have to work around her for his morning routine. The only exception he made was if he sensed the woman needed that post-sex hold-me-forever time. Then he’d make the necessary accommodations. He always wanted the woman to leave his bed feeling good.

  She lifted off him and flopped on the mattress next to him.

  A pang of loss went through him the moment her body left his. Obviously, his stupid libido wanted more wild sex. Not now but soon. He told himself to appreciate what they had. He took a deep breath in and out. Fuck it, he was too spent to worry about it. All he wanted to do was sleep.

  He glanced over at her. She was staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open next to him. Was she waiting for him to invite her to spend the night? He’d thought they’d agreed not to do that.

  He stared at the ceiling too, purposely not drawing the blanket over them, waiting to see if she settled in with the blanket or rolled out of bed and got dressed. He looked over at her.

  She turned her head and gave him a tight smile.

  They both stared at the ceiling. Awkward.

  Long minutes ticked by, his skin cooling. The urge to pull the blanket on intensified, but he’d be damned if he was the reason she spent the night. He’d wait her out.

  She cleared her throat.

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Just had a tickle in my throat.”

  “You cold?” Maybe want a blanket or to get dressed?

  “I’m fine. You?”

  “I’m good.” Cold but good.

  Damn, this woman played a mean game of chicken. She made no move to stay or go, and he couldn’t read her. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she stayed. They could have more wild sex in the morning. So what if he didn’t sleep, right? It would be worth it.

  Five minutes later, he offered the invitation, working hard to sound neutral about the whole idea. “Did you, uh, want to spend the night or…”

  She sat up. “As much as I appreciate your reluctant invitation—”

  “Who said it was reluctant?” Maybe a little vague. He didn’t want her to stay, yet he kinda did too.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

  He bit back a smile. “It seemed the thing to do. I didn’t know if you were a cuddler—”

  “I’m not.”

  “Cool. Me either.”

  “We agreed no spending the night,” she said with some bite. Her feet hit the floor and she stood. Then she gathered her clothes off the floor and headed to the adjoining bathroom to dress, shutting the door behind her. Like he hadn’t just seen, touched, and licked every inch of her. That dressing-in-the-bathroom move, along with her sharp tone, meant he had to smooth things over. He didn’t want it to be a big thing when they saw each other again, as they inevitably would with all the friends they had in common. He wanted her to leave here feeling good.

  He didn’t want her to leave.

  He threw an arm over his eyes, tired but wound tight. Now he didn’t know what he wanted where Missy was concerned, and she was mad. Wild sex fucked with his thinking.

  He pulled the covers up, propped the pillows behind him, and waited. When she finally emerged, fully dressed, he tried to soothe her ruffled feathers. “Hey, sexy thing.”

  She laughed a little. “That’s better than cactus. Thanks for tonight. Sorry about my freak-out.”

  “No problem. That’s on me.”

  She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t you. My ex was bad news—” she waved that away “—you don’t need to hear all that stuff. It’s in the past.”

  Except she was clearly still affected. “I’m a good listener if you want to talk about it.” Nonjudgmental listening had been a way of life in his house with his social worker mom. Didn’t mean he necessarily wanted to share as a kid, but he always knew he could.

  She worried her lower lip. “Thanks, but no. I’d like to just enjoy the afterglow. It was…well, you know, holy crap.” She brightened. “I guess that means good.”

  Good? Just good? How about great? Outstanding! Phenomenal!

  “Yup,” he said. The sex had been mind-blowing. Wasn’t it? She couldn’t have faked those full-body shudders. Right?

  She slipped on her sneakers. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  A chest pang alarmed him because that felt like goodbye forever. “You too,” he half growled.

  She walked over to him, leaned down, and kissed him. A quick peck, nothing more, then she walked out the door, smiling to herself.

  He flopped down on the mattress, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him. He should feel relaxed and happy. It wasn’t often the chemistry worked that well. He sat up, tossed the extra pillow off the bed, punched his own pillow, then flopped down on his side, staring at the open bedroom door.

  She wasn’t coming back.

  Long moments passed and he got more and more agitated.

  He turned off the ligh
t on his nightstand and closed his eyes, tossing and turning. Sleep eluded him.

  Dammit. Obviously he needed another wild night with her before he could let her go. Now he had to seduce her all over again.

  Seriously, how many times did she have to be dropped into his lap for him to get the message? He got it. Fate kept bringing them together. Oh, yeah, he was a believer now. And when fate put a woman like Missy in your path, you welcomed her with open arms until the thing was done. Two, three nights max oughta do it. He hoped. He wasn’t looking for serious. He just wanted a little more time with her.

  His mind replayed every minute of their naked time, and he got himself even more worked up, both wanting her and agitated at the idea of never having her again. Hell, she’d really gotten under his skin.

  Hours later, he gave up on sleep and took a long hot shower, taking himself in hand, imagining her sexy mouth on him.

  He leaned against the shower wall, spent, knowing he was going to have to work harder for a woman than he ever had in his life.

  Chapter Six

  Missy started her new temp job at the Eastman mall the next day with as much quiet dignity as she could muster given her outfit—green velvet dress with a red sash, white tights patterned with giant candy canes, felt shoes curled up at the toes, and a large pointy green hat. Yes, she was an elf.

  Think of the children. The Harper family needed her. This was good, honest work at Santa’s Workshop. All she had to do was get through the next three weeks and four days and she’d have enough to repay the money Louis had stolen. She’d have to settle for Christmas shopping the sales online now that her free time was taken up with a second shift. Not as satisfying to shop that way, but whatever.

  Thankfully, her first day, though hellishly long, had proceeded without incident. More importantly, she hadn’t run into anyone she knew. She certainly hadn’t told anyone of her new job. She’d never live it down.

  Now it was Saturday and she was determined to power through with Christmas cheer intact.