Fight or Flight

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Fight or Flight Page 7

by Young, Samantha


  I physically shivered, shuddered even, at the sound of his zipper cutting through the tense silence of the room. Caleb curled his thumbs into the waist of his jeans and his boxer briefs (black, of course) and shoved them down. He kicked them off too.

  “Oh my.” I practically wheezed at the sight of his straining erection. “That … well … that’s …”

  “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘impressive.’ ”

  “It seems a little unfair actually to all the other penises.”

  Caleb’s grin this time was just all pure boyish amusement, and I decided it was my favorite of his smiles so far. He reached toward me and grabbed the heels of both of my shoes and slipped them off.

  Every inch of me was a live wire, restless, too hot, sensitive. I never knew it was possible to be so sexually hungry. I’d had great sex in the past but I’d never felt like I might just explode at his first touch.

  “We need to have sex. Now.”

  Caleb placed his hands on my knees, his thumbs on the inside of my legs, and he slowly coasted them upward.

  “Oh boy.”

  His lips twitched but he was too focused on his destination to really smile. He reached the apex of my thighs but he kept going, his thumbs meeting in the middle over the lace of my underwear. I gasped as he pressed his thumbs down.

  I immediately flopped back on the bed and let my legs fall open. “Oh God, yes.”

  “You keep calling me God, lass, and my ego might get out of control,” he murmured.

  “Your ego is already the size of Mars—nothing I say can make it any worse.” My hips arched off the bed into his touch, but he only rubbed his thumbs over me once more before he stopped. I lifted my head to glare at him. “Why did you just stop?”

  Caleb didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. I could see all patience had fled his expression. Suddenly his fingers were brushing my lower belly, curling into my underwear. He wrenched them down my legs. A little huff of excitement escaped me.

  Caleb’s eyes darkened. He moved over me, straddling me, his hands braced at either side of my head. The heat of him engulfed me as he stared into my eyes and smoothed his hand up my naked thigh.

  “Caleb.” I breathed, any vulnerability I should have felt at lying so small beneath this big stranger obliterated by the voracious need I felt for him.

  He reached between my legs, watching me with an intensity that caused my breath to catch as I lifted my hips into his touch.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He stopped teasing my clit and slid three thick fingers into me. My inner muscles clamped around him in desperate need. “You feel beautiful too.”

  Something about the words didn’t sound like a compliment. “Your tone suggests that’s a bad thing,” I gasped out.

  “It is.” His gaze was suddenly calculated. “You think your beauty gives you power over me. It doesn’t.” He thrust his fingers in and out of me and my toes curled into the bedding.

  “You are such an ass—Oh!” He caught my clit with his thumb again, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me.

  “You were saying?”

  I reached for him, laying my small hands flat against his hard chest, and I stared him straight in the eye, attempting to push through the fog of lust. “We don’t like each other. For a second I might have thought otherwise in the glow of champagne. But we don’t. So let’s not pretend that physical attraction isn’t the only reason I’m letting you touch me right now. You think I’m beautiful and I think you’re hot and that has power over both of us even though we’d rather it didn’t. So stop being an imperious prick.”

  For a moment he appeared pissed off. Then the anger melted. “True enough.” He removed his hand and then gently took each of my wrists in his hands and pinned them to the mattress at either side of my head. I felt overwhelmed by the size of him. We were two people giving in to the power of physical attraction, and in that we were even.

  He wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

  That I could deal with.

  Caleb bent his head to mine, and that masculine, earthy scent rushed over me, sending a new jolt of desire.

  “I promised I’d ruin you, lass,” he murmured, and then kissed me. His tongue pushed between my lips and slid over mine, dancing with it in a dirty, deep, wet kiss. My hips pulsed toward him at the feel of his hardness rubbing against my belly.

  And then he was gone, taking his mouth from mine as his grip on my wrists loosened. His fingers trailed teasingly down the soft skin of my inner arm and down the sides of my breasts as he stopped to pay attention to them.

  His stubble scratched against my skin in the most delicious way as my body writhed, bucking off the bed. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, stroking his hot, smooth skin. My fingers curled tightly into the longer section of his hair as he paid lavish attention to my breasts. He brought me to the edge of orgasm and then stopped, kissing them sweetly.

  “Caleb.” I groaned, tugging on his hair.

  He reached for my hands, gripped my wrists, and slammed them back above my head. Then his lips were moving down my stomach, his tongue licking my belly button, before moving south. My lower belly rippled as his mouth neared closer to where I wanted it the most.

  My legs fell open, inviting him in. I heard his grunt of satisfaction seconds before his tongue touched me.

  Need slammed through me and my hips pushed into his mouth. He gripped them, pressing them back to the mattress, and then he truly began his torture.

  As his thick stubble scratched and tickled my thighs, he suckled. He studied my body, my reactions, and just when I was about to reach blinding satisfaction he’d lift his head and press a sweet kiss to my inner thigh.

  I cried out in frustration. “You are a bastard.”

  Caleb’s grip on my hips became almost bruising.

  And then his tongue was back. I shuddered, but it still wasn’t enough. Hearing my whimpers, the Scot introduced his fingers into the equation.

  “Caleb!” I jerked against him. “Yes, yes! Don’t stop!”

  Cool air blew over me suddenly as he got up off the bed. I glanced up in confusion, wondering what the hell he was trying to do to me! My body relaxed when I saw he was pulling a condom out of the wallet in his jeans. His eyes ate up the sight of me sprawled naked on his bed as he readied himself.

  “Are you done?”

  “So impatient.” Laughter trembled in his voice as he moved back up onto the bed, moving over me with intent. His lips brushed mine, softly, sweetly, surprising me, and then he pushed up onto one hand and curled his other around my thigh, opening me … and he thrust inside me.

  Hard.

  I gasped his name in pleasured pain. Our eyes held as my breath scattered as he moved inside me, the feel of him so perfect it electrified my lower spine. I whimpered and he let go of my thigh only to lift my legs so my hips and ass came up off the bed. His large hands held the back of my thighs, holding me at this angle as he got up on his knees. And then he powered hard into me.

  And something happened.

  He seemed to hit this sensitive part inside of me I’d never felt before and my whole body was seized with this incredible pleasure. I wasn’t aware of anything but the heat flushing through me, of the feel of Caleb’s hot skin and hard muscle beneath my hands.

  He kept hitting that spot until I wasn’t cognizant of anything. I knew I was saying words but they were incoherent even to me. I heard his grunts, I heard my whimpers, I smelled his cologne and his sweat mingling with mine and my perfume.

  But it was all a blur against the coiling bliss building inside of me.

  And then I splintered, shattered apart, exquisite pleasure undulating through me. “Caleb!” I cried, my eyes fluttering closed as it rushed through my entire body, its focus in my center. The sensation was so sexy, so raw, I never wanted it to end. It felt like it was never going to end. Caleb’s hips stilled. And then his lower body seemed to shudder long and hard against me.

  I lay stun
ned, limp, as Caleb grunted and buried his face in my neck. Our chests rose and fell against each other as we tried to catch our breath. I remembered the look on his face as he came. His gritted teeth, his flushed skin, the dazed lust in his wolf eyes.

  God, that was hot. It made me curl my fingers in his hair to tug his head up. I kissed him, sweet, deep, wet, loving the scratch of his short beard. He kissed me back, and I rolled until I was on top of him. His hands caressed my back, my hair, my ass as we kissed, and I pressed against him, needing more, wanting him ready again.

  Not too long later he was, and I explored him and the raw masculinity that fascinated me despite myself.

  The desperation of our need eased by our first time, I dragged my nails down his hard stomach as I rose up and down on him and felt my power over him. The power he hated that I had over him.

  It felt good.

  Whatever satisfaction he saw in my face made Caleb climax first, and as his hips bucked beneath mine he tipped me over the edge, and we came together.

  We stared at each other for a moment, two strangers who had just shared something extraordinary, and I felt the moment reality returned.

  I’d just had sex with a man I didn’t even like.

  And he’d had sex with a woman he didn’t even like.

  Somehow I didn’t think that was such a big deal to him, but it was to me.

  Even more so that it had been so physically epic.

  With the ache in my body now satisfied, the heat of pleasure dissipated and I felt cold. I eased off him and he let go of my hips so I could slip off the bed. I grabbed my clothes from the floor around the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Misery overwhelmed me, and I wondered how I could go from enjoying the most pleasure I was sure any woman had ever felt to feeling wretched with myself. Disappointed in myself.

  And wondering how the hell I could get out of there without losing face.

  I took my time until I panicked that maybe he thought I was trying to stick around.

  However, when I stepped out of the bathroom, Caleb was lying sprawled with the sheets over him, his arms above his head, his lips parted slightly, and his eyes closed.

  The asshole had fallen asleep.

  “Caleb?”

  He didn’t even twitch.

  I stepped closer to the bed. “Caleb?” I shook the mattress a little.

  Still nothing.

  Wondering if he was pretending to sleep as an immature way to get rid of me, I held my finger under his nose. The lack of movement from him and the steady, even breaths he took convinced me he was asleep. Relief moved through me. I slipped on my shoes, studying the potently beautiful and masculine man lying in bed.

  It was the kind of sex I would never forget, even if I had been getting sex regularly.

  And I decided right there and then to get over myself. So what if I didn’t like Caleb? Being attracted to someone I didn’t like didn’t make me a bad person. It made me human. And you know what? For a couple of hours everything had been simple and good.

  Knowing he was asleep, I approached him quietly and acknowledged that if he was clean shaven he’d look almost boyish in his sleep. I wanted to kiss that pouty mouth one last time, but I was afraid it would wake him.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “I’d never say this if you were awake because … well, we both know you’re an asshole … but I needed this. It’s … it’s been a shitty week. And this was nice. Uncomplicated. Thanks for being just the guy I could have sex with.” I smiled. “And thanks for living up to my grand expectations. Not that you need your ego stroked.”

  I turned and moved across the room, grabbing my purse off the floor. Then I stopped and looked back at him, sleeping peacefully. “And P.S. You win when you realize that anyone can hurt you, even those you never expect it from. Once you know that … you’ll never be knocked off your feet long enough to lose.”

  As I slipped out of the hotel room, I knew deep down I hadn’t said those words to a sleeping man who couldn’t hear them. I’d said them to myself. Because as much as I didn’t like the bastard … he’d somehow still taken something from me in there, and I couldn’t have that.

  Even though he had slipped past my defenses, I needed the reminder that it didn’t mean I could trust him.

  Seven

  Although I had to get up early to catch my flight, I woke up feeling refreshed, realizing I’d slept better than I had in ages. I didn’t walk away from Caleb filled with regrets and I didn’t overanalyze. I truly appreciated our one-night stand for what it was: a major stress reliever. As soon as I’d gotten back to the room, I’d passed out on my bed, out like a light.

  The overthinking came the next morning while I was in the shower. It wasn’t so much overthinking or regret as really the wish that I hadn’t said as much as I had about Nick and Gem. I wasn’t so drunk the night before that I couldn’t remember every second of it. I didn’t mind my inhibitions being lowered enough for me to have sex with Caleb, but I did mind that they’d been lowered enough for me to talk about Gem’s death. Reassuring myself that it wasn’t a huge deal because I’d never see Caleb again, I was suddenly hit with harsh reality. I would see Caleb again. He was on my freaking flight to Boston.

  I really, really hoped we would not be sitting next to each other.

  “Awkward” didn’t even cover it.

  Still, it wasn’t worth getting worked up about, so I attempted to shrug that niggle off my shoulders and sweep away the nervousness in the pit of my stomach. To my relief, I didn’t see Caleb in the hotel as I checked out and headed along the walkway to the airport.

  The more I thought about my epic sexcapades with the Norse God (in my head I allowed myself to call him that because, seriously, the man had found my G-spot), the chirpier I became despite my anxiety over seeing him again. I had not once in my life engaged in a one-night stand, but it would seem that I did it perfectly. I chose a seriously sexy (if unlikable) man to sleep with, he gave me the best sex of my life, and the cherry on top of the icing on that cake? He was from an entirely different continent, and after this flight I would never see him again in my life.

  “What you grinning about, girl?” the cheery security personnel said, smiling at me as I handed her my passport and ticket.

  I hadn’t even realized I was smiling. I lied, “I’m happy to be going home.”

  “Well, you have a nice flight,” she said, handing my documents back to me.

  “Thank you,” I returned sincerely. Seriously … good manners did matter.

  And positivity really did attract positivity.

  After I got through security, which was heaving with people—even the fast-track line for first and business class—I strolled into the busy terminal, heading for the nearest coffee cart. Miracle of miracles, there was only one guy in front of me, and soon I was holding a grande macchiato in my hand, relieved to be going home, and feeling so sexually satisfied that I thought maybe the universe was looking out for me after all. Last night with Caleb had been a much-needed diversion. Thanks, Universe. I owe you one.

  Only a short time later, reality intruded far too quickly and I wondered if the universe and I really were on such good terms after all. It was awkward seeing Caleb again.

  I looked down at him, sitting in the aisle seat adjacent to my aisle seat in the first-class cabin. His eyes pierced me as he sat there with his food tray out and his laptop open at the ready. Today he wore a black henley, sleeves rolled down, with dark blue jeans and biker boots.

  “Excuse me,” an annoyed voice said behind me. I turned to see that while I was staring at my one-night stand, there was a line building up behind me.

  “Sorry.” I moved to the overhead bin above my seat and had just bent down to pick up the carry-on when it was out of my hands and up into the bin. I blinked in confusion at finding Caleb standing so close beside me that our bodies brushed.

  He looked displeased that we had to share another couple of hours together.

&nb
sp; Well, why help me with my carry-on, then? I dropped down into my seat. As soon as he was seated, I said through the line of moving people, “You knew we’d be on this flight together, so I don’t know what the dirty look is for. Why are you going to Boston anyway?”

  “Why are you?”

  “I live in Boston.”

  “Koto’s North American division is based out of Boston. I have a meeting there.”

  “If your meeting is in Boston, what the hell were you doing in Phoenix?”

  “It’s called a layover.” He smirked and turned back to his laptop.

  “Ha ha ha.” I glared at him. “Your wit is unparalleled.”

  Caleb shot me an assessing look. “You seem awfully upset I’m on this flight, considering you were fully aware I would be.”

  “You have to admit, it is a little awkward.”

  “Facing your sins, you mean?”

  “Actually, yes.” I lifted my chin haughtily, my voice lowering as I lied, “I can be forgiven, however, because I was drunk.”

  Indignation claimed his features. “You were as sober as I was. You regret it, fine. But own your actions.”

  I stiffened at the derision in his voice and realized he was right. The truth was, I didn’t want to feel vulnerable around him, and that was pretty much how I was starting to feel. The lie had slipped out as a defense. “Fine, I wasn’t drunk.”

  When no response was forthcoming, I side-eyed him and saw he was working on his laptop, ignoring me once again.

  Sighing to myself, I pressed the power button on my e-reader, determined to ignore him for the duration of the flight. At least it was a short flight.

  “Excuse me.”

  I glanced up at the smooth voice to find a guy around my age looking down at me.

  “I’m in the window seat.”

  “Oh, of course.” Unlike Caleb yesterday, I got up out of my seat to let the guy in.

  “Thank you.” He flashed me a flirtatious, charming smile. “Must be my lucky day.”

  Normally I’d just wave a comment like that off, but I was too aware of the Scottish bastard, and I wanted him to know I was just as unaffected by our one-night stand as he was. “Some guys have all the luck,” I joked affably, hoping it came off as charming versus conceited.

 

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