Covet

by Karen Erickson

  "I could do more if you want.” He threw it out there, wanted to see what she said.

  "If we had the time, Ty, I'd want to do it all with you. And then some."

  A woman after his own heart...

  CHAPTER 6

  Jenny had spent the entire night with Ty at the hotel, but she hadn't meant to. She'd wanted to leave sometime before midnight, wanting him to realize she truly wasn't a hanger-on, but that didn't work out. No, when he began massaging her butt cheeks and teasing her hole with his tongue, well, she became a little distracted. And when he worked long and hard to get his long and hard cock snuggled deep inside her tight ass, well, she became overwhelmed by all of it.

  Hours and hours of sex wore a woman out. When she woke up, it had been almost six in the morning. The two of them had been wrapped around each other, legs tangled together, and she'd had to gently extract herself from him, hoping beyond hope she wouldn't wake him up.

  He'd slept like the dead, and she snuck out of the hotel room, though she had left him a message on the mirror in the bathroom. She'd written it in her favorite mauve pink lipstick—

  Thanks for the fantastic fuck.

  XOXO

  J.

  A little harsh, but damn it she wanted to prove a point. She wasn't a simpering woman chasing a handsome successful man just to land him. She could treat this like what it was, a simple yet hot affair. That's all she wanted. It was all she needed.

  She'd called in sick that day, deciding it best to stay home and rest. Also easier to avoid facing Ty and having to explain why she'd left. She didn't want to tell the truth. That she was too afraid of her feelings for him, of how she would act around him. That she let him get too close, too fast. She'd revealed secrets to him she'd never told anyone, and he didn't laugh or tell her she was a freak. No, more like he thought she was perfect, just what he wanted.

  Maybe they were made for each other.

  Just as sex partners, she reassured herself, lazily changing the channel. Daytime TV sucked. Judge shows, soap operas, the occasional talk show. All of it boring, all of it making her yawn.

  Yet if she turned off the TV and tried to fall asleep, then she thought only of Ty. What was he doing, what had he worn today? She imagined stripping him of his beautifully made suits, seeing his dark cock coming toward her. How velvety hot it had felt in her hands, how deliciously hard it had felt deep inside her body. It was a cock she was reluctant to let go of, a man she didn't want to let go of at all.

  Exactly why she had the TV on. She didn't need to think like that. She had to let him go. In fact, she had to let him go first so she beat him to the punch. Because that was bound to happen, him dumping her. Oh, he would probably do it in a suave, polite way. Maybe even give her an expensive trinket, fuck her one last time. She might get lucky and he'd take her out to dinner. He would explain that it was over, though, smart enough to do it in a public place so she couldn't make a scene. He'd tell her that he didn't do relationships. He didn't date, and she was no exception.

  With a huff, she turned the volume up on the television, desperate to drown out the thoughts in her head. Not wanting to admit how much it would hurt when her little fling with Ty ended.

  Her phone rang and she answered it, not even bothering to check the caller ID. Big mistake.

  "Jennifer, dear, I tried calling you at your work and they said you called in sick. Are you all right?"

  Jenny sat straight up, shock turning the blood cold in her veins. “Mother, how did you get this number?"

  "Why, I told the girl who answered the phone that I was your mother and that I had somehow lost your phone number and she gave it to me. At least someone will give it to me."

  The last thing she needed was to talk to her mother. How she wished she would've let the machine pick up the call. “What do you want?"

  "Is that any way to greet me? No, ‘how are you, Mother'? So ungrateful, always have been.” Her mother sniffed. Crocodile tears no doubt.

  "I don't need to ask, you'll always tell me."

  "We miss you, Jennifer. Your father thinks it's ridiculous that you won't come back home, and he's threatening to come down there and drag you back."

  "I'm not coming back home. For Christ's sake, I'm twenty-seven years old! Don't you think it's time you two cut the cord?"

  "Don't use such foul language. It's so unbecoming on a lady."

  Jenny wanted to snort but held back. Yeah, some kind of lady she was. Fucking a man in a hotel room all night long, doing things her mother wouldn't even dream of doing. She'd love to tell her all about it, really she would. “I'm happy here, Mother. The only reason Father wants me to come home is so I'll resume my relationship with Stanley and marry him."

  "He's still devastated that you broke off the engagement with Stanley. We just had lunch the other day, Stanley, his mother, and I. He misses you, still loves you. Doesn't understand why you left him."

  He would never understand, and neither would her family. The only reason she went out with Stanley in the first place was because her parents wanted it. Her father specifically since he was trying to work a deal with Stanley's father. He thought it would be the ultimate business merger, a marriage between her and Stanley. Problem was, Jenny didn't really love him. She'd taken his ring, had even worn it for a while. She'd slept with him, though that had been terrible. The man couldn't kiss, and he lacked finesse. He also had boorish manners and believed a woman had her “place,” specifically at home with a gazillion children. No, thank you.

  "I don't want to talk about this. We've talked about it to death. I don't want to beat a dead horse."

  Her mother sniffed again and Jenny knew there was no way the woman was crying. She wouldn't want to cause her makeup to run. “You could've had a perfectly good marriage and you threw it away. All so you could run to the big city and work your menial job. I just don't understand why."

  Jenny sighed. How many times had she heard this same spiel or at least a variation of? “I have to go, Mother. I'm not feeling well. I'll call you in a few days, all right?"

  "Jennifer, wait! I'm not finished talking to you!"

  Jenny hung up the phone with a satisfying stab to the “end” button, then threw the phone onto the coffee table with a loud clatter. She covered her face with her hands, huffing out a heavy sigh.

  God, just listening to her mother drained her. Made her feel like shit. She'd never felt more free than the day she left that stifling house, her stifling life. No way could she ever go back to that. She'd rather live by herself happy than with a jerk of a husband and her family making her miserable.

  The doorbell rang, startling her from her thoughts. Who the hell could this be?

  She went to the door, checked the peephole, then unlocked and threw the door open in wonder.

  Tyrone Holt in the flesh stood on her doorstep. Dressed in a charcoal gray pinstriped suit and white starched shirt, a red tie knotted properly around his neck. A single red rose clutched in his hand, and was that a nervous smile on his face?

  "Hi."

  Her belly trembled at the sound of his deep voice saying that one simple word. “Hi."

  "Are you contagious?"

  "What?"

  "You called in sick today. I was wondering if you were contagious."

  If he was a disease, then, yes, she was definitely contagious. She had the Ty Holt ache and only he could cure her. “I'm not really sick, just tired."

  His dark eyes flared at that statement with an unleashed heat that nearly seared her. Knowing he was the one who wore her out, no doubt. “May I come in?"

  She opened the door wider. “Sure."

  Ty walked inside, handing her the rose. His presence seemed to fill the entire room, so strong, so masculine. He looked good in her place, too good. Images of him coming over for a cozy dinner flashed through her mind. The two of them naked on her couch, on the kitchen counter, in her bed...

  No. Jenny shook her head, noticed the odd expression he had on his face when
she took the rose from him. She buried her nose in the velvety soft petals and breathed deep. The scent of the flower filled her. A romantic gesture from a man who didn't do romance. She didn't get it.

  "I was worried about you,” he said, his tone low, sensual. Sending shivers down her spine.

  "I'm fine. Just worn out from a long night of fucking.” She feigned nonchalance, knew she probably looked like a phony, but it was all she had. Her defensives were especially low after talking with her mother.

  He winced, no doubt at her choice of words. “You left without saying good-bye this morning."

  "I left you a note."

  "Yeah, a real shitty one, too."

  She stood there, her mouth hanging open. He sounded almost ... hurt. She found that surprising, not to mention confusing.

  He sighed. “Look, I don't know what's going on here, or how you feel, but I've been thinking about you all day."

  "You have?"

  His gaze met hers and he smiled, a sensuous curve to his lips that she had the sudden urge to kiss and nibble and suck. “I have. And it's made me realize something. You're different."

  She laughed. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

  "It's a good thing, trust me. At first, I was treating this how I treat all of my affairs with women. Quick, hot, and hopefully very satisfying. Every woman I see, it's always very informal and fast."

  "Right, you don't do relationships. You don't even date."

  "Yeah.” He paused, took a step toward her, then another one. “I've changed my mind about that theory."

  Her heart dropped into her stomach. “What are you talking about?"

  "I'm reconsidering. I know one thing. I want to see you again. Really get to know you."

  "You have really gotten to know me,” she said with a devilish smile, fearful at what he might be saying, a little too hopeful. Not sure if she could really believe her ears.

  "In the sexual sense, yes, I have. But I want to know everything about you, Jenny.” Ty slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. His heart thundered against her chest, and she realized he was nervous. And that eased her nerves somewhat. “I want to know what makes you tick, your favorite foods, your favorite movies. I want to take you to dinner, I want to take you away for the weekend. I want to make love to you all night long and wake up with you in my arms the next morning."

  She leaned her head against his chest, surprised and touched at his words. It was what she really wanted, what she had dreamed about. Things, though, never turned out in her favor. “Why now?"

  "Because you're all I think about. Will you see me, Jenny? Will you go out on a date with me, at least? Please? I'll beg if I have to."

  Jenny smiled, slipped her arms around him and tilted her head back. “You don't have to beg."

  "I'd suggest starting over, but we're too far gone to even attempt that.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead, then another, his lips trailing down her temple to her cheek.

  "What do you mean by that?” His lips on her face made her breathless, and certainly affected him as well. She could feel the unmistakable erection growing beneath his pants, brushing against her belly.

  "Baby, I want to be inside you so bad it's taking everything I've got not to throw you down on the couch and bury myself deep. But I want to take it slow, romance you properly."

  She laughed, stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss to his delicious mouth. “I don't want you to take it slow. I want you to make love to me, Ty."

  "Oh, I will, Jenny. I will."

  Karen Erickson

  After leaving the working world to become a stay-at-home mom, Karen Erickson realized she needed to get serious and pursue her lifelong dream of being a published writer. A busy mother of three, she fits her precious writing time in between chasing her children, taking care of her wonderful husband and pretending she has a maid. She lives in California.

  To learn more about Karen, you can visit her website:

  www.karenwritesromance.com

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