by Eden Summers
This time when he leaned in, she held her breath, waiting for his next move. Those tempting lips approached, only to veer at the last second and plague her cheek with the burn. “I could’ve sworn you weren’t the type to fuck in a parking lot,” he whispered against her skin. “But you have a habit of surprising me.”
His beard grazed each place of impact, along her jaw, then further, to the sensitive spot below her ear. She wanted to hate the misplaced sentiment. Wanted to hate him in general. But those light kisses turned into nibbles, the nibbles transforming into bites and sucks, until he ravaged her neck with such erotic efficiency she clung to his shoulders for more.
“Take off the scarf.” He ground into her, his erection thick and pulsing between them.
“If I take it off, are you going to leave more marks?”
“Without a doubt.”
Oh, God. She couldn’t have asked for a better response.
She slid the silk from her neck. The delicate glide inspired goose bumps. Her skin erupted in a mass of tingles. She held the material out to him and pretended it didn’t affect her when he placed his hand over hers, stealing the scarf from her grip.
“Now, open your mouth.”
She recoiled. “Excuse me?”
“Trust me, you’re going to want something in that mouth to stop you crying out.”
“I’ll be quiet.”
“Really?” The silk fell to his side while his free hand skimmed the trim patch of curls at the apex of her thighs. With a quick slide of his fingers, he grazed her clit and parted her folds, teasing her slit. She moaned with the sharp infusion of pleasure. The noise was long, low and entirely out of control.
“Do you want to rethink that promise?” He pulsed the tip of two fingers at her entrance, eyeing her with confidence while he worked his magic.
Her chest exploded, the shrapnel shooting to her breasts, her abdomen, her core.
“How do you think you’re going to react once I slide my cock in here?”
He raised the scarf and a confident brow at the same time.
Damn him. For everything.
“Fine.” She jutted her chin, waiting.
His eyes blazed as he removed his fingers from between her legs to place the material in her mouth. She bit down while he crossed it behind her neck, then guided it forward to hang over her chest.
“Now give me your wrists.”
She shook her head, working the material from her mouth. “No.”
“Don’t trust me?
“No. I don’t. Not out here. Not when I’m already vulnerable enough.”
A flash of rejection marred his features. “I wouldn’t hurt you, Ella. Not like that.”
Not. Like. That.
Just in every other way imaginable.
He worked the silk between her lips and tightened the knot behind her neck. “There. Pretty as a picture and even more inviting now that you can’t talk.”
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” The words were mumbled into utter incoherence.
“What was that?”
“Fuck you.”
He smirked. “You’ll be doing that soon enough.”
A hand glided between them, those talented fingers rediscovering her entrance, spreading her folds. This time, her accompanying whimper barely sounded, smothered by delicate material.
“That’s better.” He bent forward. “Now I won’t have to hold back.”
She would’ve hated if he had. She couldn’t wait to see his mindlessness. His restraint and subsequent surrender.
“I love how you’re always wet for me. Are you like this for everyone?”
She shook her head. No. Nobody but him.
“Good.” He trailed two fingers around in circles, not stopping the motion as he retrieved a wallet from his back pocket, flipped the leather open, and rested it against his hip to pull a condom from the notes section. Once he had what he wanted, he dropped the wallet to the ground, his cards, coins, and notes scattering across the asphalt.
He didn’t seem to notice. Didn’t seem to care.
He placed the condom packet between his teeth and unbuckled his belt one-handed. The clink, clink, clink of metal on metal broke the quiet night air, followed by the grate of his zipper. She watched, her breath catching as he shoved at his waistband and fisted his erect length in his palm.
She was really doing this. Really shoving herself into a situation that could only end in heartbreak. Again.
But who cared?
She’d recovered before.
She reached out, trailing her nails along his shaft, then gripped the base with a tight squeeze.
“Fuck.” The curse was guttural, defenseless, and entirely perfect.
Behind the scarf, she smiled.
He released his dick and spat the condom packet into his palm. “So, you want me to blow in your hand, is that it?” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back. The worst part was his fingers sliding from between her thighs. “Come on, sweetheart. You need to let me suit up. Neither one of us want to see me finish like this.”
Maybe she did.
Maybe it was best for them both.
He was under her control, susceptible to her touch, just like she was to his. The knowledge made her attraction all the more punishing. He was so beautiful, his face a mix of tension and control as moonlight beamed down on those harsh features.
“Ella.” The way he said her nickname—the plea, the passion, the lust. “This isn’t what you want… You need my hands on your ass… My mouth on your neck… My cock in your pussy.”
Her lips burned with dryness she couldn’t lick away. All she could do was bite down on silk and whimper.
“You’ve got five seconds,” he murmured. “Four…”
She trailed her touch to the head of his shaft and rubbed the moisture beading at his slit.
“I lied.” He gripped her wrist and dragged her hand away. “You’re done.” His other arm snaked behind her back, lifting her off the ground. “Legs around my waist.”
She complied without thought, her ass sliding against the side of the car, his dick poised at her entrance as he worked the protection over his length in efficient strokes.
All too soon, he was ready and looking at her as if asking permission.
“Do it,” she mumbled around the gag. “Just do it.”
His jaw clenched. “You sure?”
Goddamn him and his sweet concern.
She threw her hands around his neck and sank her nails deep. If those scars weren’t enough to convince him to hurry, the buck of her hips should’ve been.
He slid his hand to the top of his shaft, working the tip back and forth along her entrance. She didn’t know where to train her gaze—on his impressive cock, his muscled chest, or those penetrating eyes now framed by strands of loose hair.
He blinked at her, sweat beading his brow as he snaked his tongue out to moisten his gorgeous lips. She became lost in the moment. Lost in him.
He thrust home in one long, punishing shove of his hips, stealing all the breath from her lungs. All the thoughts from her mind. There was only friction. Only pleasure.
She cried out, her head falling back, her fingers clenching tight into his neck. The heat of him enveloped her chest, the weight pressing deep. His hips rocked in a slow, torturous rhythm and she whimpered with each undulation, the sound ringing louder and louder in her ears.
“Hey.” He placed his mouth a breath away from hers. “Keep it quiet, sweetheart. You’re not going to find a friendly audience in this shoddy neighborhood.”
Her breathing quickened with her jerky nod and she bit around the silk to sink her teeth into her lower lip. She wiggled, trying to seat her ass on the edge of the window and slipped.
“It’s okay.” He gripped her tight. “I’ve got you.”
Did he? Really?
Physically, he was there. But emotionally, she wasn’t sure he existed.
“Fuck.” He thrust. Again and again. Each p
leasure-induced pulse followed with a panted breath against her lips. “What are you doing to me?”
She closed her eyes, wishing she could close her ears, too, because his words were sinking into her soul, never to be removed. So damn good… Drive me crazy… Fuck… Best damn thing…She wanted to scream for him to stop and beg for this to never end.
He kissed her neck, her shoulder, then the deep V of her dress, marking the curves of her breasts with lips and tongue and beard. She’d never been more alive. More hopeful. She wanted to share the world with this man and believed he craved the same thing. Maybe not on the surface, but deep down. Deep, deep down. Almost within reach.
“I want to do everything to you.” He thrust hard. Over and over, each undulation growing in force.
“Yes.” She gasped around her gag. “More.”
She was close, already. He had a way of knowing her. Of sensing where to touch. Where to focus.
He grazed her nipples through her dress. The first time was too light, the second too hard. The third and every time after was utter perfection. He was Goldilocks. Testing everything. Finding the right fit. He even had the hair to prove it.
“What are you smiling at?” His nose brushed hers.
She couldn’t explain, even if she was physically able.
“I love your smile.” He nuzzled her cheek, his beard leaving its mark. “Prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her grin vanished, pure shock taking its place. Oh, God. Her heart stopped. It didn’t start again—just remained idle as his mouth trekked her mouth, finally coming to rest on the corner of her lips.
“What?” He pulled back. “What is it? Have I done something wrong?”
He kept compounding her awe. Kept showing a side of himself even more alluring than what she’d already fallen for.
He froze, those sexy undulations ceasing to exist. “Ella?”
She worked the scarf from her mouth, no longer caring if she drew a crowd because she couldn’t go a moment longer without his kiss. “You’ve done everything right.”
She shoved a hand through his hair and dragged his face to hers, stealing his lips. Their connection ignited, the mix of tongues and teeth and renewed thrusts building to a crazy intensity that had every inch of her in love with every inch of him.
He kissed her as hard as his cock fucked her. He worshipped her just as sweetly, too. His touch was a fine contrast to all the slamming body parts.
“You’re going to make me come.” She spoke into his mouth, pulling his hair.
“I fucking hope so.”
Her pussy contracted around his length, tiny spasms quickly building to impending bliss. “Bryan…”
“I got you.”
He did. He really did.
She came undone, the whimpered noises building in her throat, only to be smothered by his mouth. He continued to kiss her. To love her like nobody had ever loved her.
“Shit.” His fingers dug into her ass, marking flesh she never wanted to heal. He pistoned his hips, extending her orgasm as he came, thrust after torturous thrust.
He bit and sucked and licked. Bucked and caressed and squeezed.
Her world became one mass of tingling sensation. Then just as quickly, it faded.
Starbursts turned into twinkles. Pulses lessened to twinges. She pulled back, panting into the night air while his rhythm lessened to a slow dance.
She slumped against his shoulder, his scent filling her lungs, his sweat coating her cheek.
One moment, bliss conquered. The next, the hard weight of reality made her numb. She hadn’t merely fallen a few steps for this man—she’d toppled down a slope the size of Everest.
“Ella,” he whispered into her neck, a hint of regret tinging his voice.
She closed her eyes, not wanting to know the harshness inevitably due to follow all the sexy sweetness she’d received. “Mmm?”
“I’m sorry this had to end.”
Her heart swelled as she worked the tight silk from around her neck. “Had to end? What do you mean?”
He spoke in past tense, like this was already over. As if it had been a foregone conclusion that they would share a monumentally deep connection, then wave each other goodbye.
He settled her on her feet and stepped back, frowning. “You knew this was the end, right?”
Her eyes seared, threatening to betray her.
“Ella?” His voice turned into a warning. “You knew this game was over once we fucked.”
She blinked and blinked, trying to hide her cluelessness while he righted his clothing.
“I told you from the start. I tell everyone from the start.”
“Yeah.” She swallowed. Licked her lips. “I knew. I just…” She tugged down the hem of her dress and snatched her clutch from the top of the car. “I didn’t—” She clamped her mouth shut and inched away, taking close, cautious steps.
“Wait.” He reached out and the connection of his hand missed its mark. “I thought you understood. You spoke about this not ending well. I made sure you wanted to finish this here. Now. I asked you, Ella. I thought we were both on the same page.”
She hadn’t even been in the same book.
She’d momentarily forgotten his rules and regulations, too blinded by the dreamy thoughts of what could be. She’d made herself believe that something special was a possibility. Just like she had with Lucas.
“We were,” she lied with a jerky nod. “We are.”
“Then why are you looking at me like…”
Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.
“Why are you backing away from me?” he amended.
“Because that’s what you want.” She stopped, commanding her feet to remain in place even though she itched to kick off her heels and sprint. “I’m giving you space. I know how much you hate clingy women.”
He winced, and for the briefest second she expected him to tell her to come back into his arms.
Yet again, she was wrong.
Why did she keep getting this so wrong? She pinned her hopes on love when it was nowhere in sight. She continued to fall for men who had no intention of falling for her.
“Did you expect this to turn into something more?” His jaw tensed as his hands stabbed through his hair. “I can’t fucking read you.”
“No,” she lied and scrambled to come up with solid reasoning. “I just didn’t think you’d be fucking me one minute and kicking me to the curb the next.” She backtracked, each step bringing more necessary space. “But I get it. You made your position clear. And I certainly don’t want to be classified as one of your groupies.”
“Fuck.” His curse rang through every inch of the parking lot, startling her. “Just stop.” His hands fell to his sides. “I don’t want you to be pissed at me.”
“Why does it matter?” Her question held too much heartache, the weakness ringing in her ears. “You know I want to cancel my Vault membership. After tonight, you’ll never see me again. So, who gives a shit if I’m pissed?”
He clenched his teeth. “I do, okay? I want you back at the club. I want to help you find someone.”
“No, thank you.” Not when she wanted that someone to be him. “Your help tonight was enough.”
He stepped toward her and froze when the crunch of plastic sounded under his sole. “Shit.” He crouched to pick up his wallet and the scattered credit cards. “Look, Ella, I’ve got a truckload of bullshit on my shoulders. My family is fucked. The guys at work are on my back about the argument we had at the club…”
“And the last thing you need is what? Me causing you problems?” When had she become a liability instead of an asset for his demonstration?
His lips parted, but an answer hovered out of reach. Everything hovered out of reach. If only she had the heart to stretch a little further. To find the perfect words to make him realize. To do something, anything, to make him wake up and see the possibilities right in front of him.
“You’re a great guy, Bryan,” she whispered. �
��But I deserve better than this.”
He scoffed, his hand paused on a dirty business card, his hair framing his gorgeous face. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t move. “Ain’t that the truth.” His voice was barely audible, the softness far more punishing than if he’d growled at her.
He sat back on his haunches, those brilliant eyes hitting her with feigned sincerity. “What a fucking mess, right?”
She slowly nodded through the disbelief. “Yeah…”
What else could she say? She wasn’t going to stand here and argue with him while her heart slowly bled out. “I’m going to catch a cab.” A chill took over her skin, sinking deeper to penetrate bone. She wanted to hate him and couldn’t. Wanted to stop adoring him and failed at that, too.
“Wait.” He rushed to pick up more of his scattered belongings. “Let me get all this shit first and we can leave together.” He snatched at the coins, notes, and credit cards strewn across the asphalt. “Give me a second.”
“No. You want this to end now. At least let me have the dignity of walking away.”
“You can, after I get you home safely.”
The concern was a weighty sucker-punch. He cared about her, but not enough to ditch his stupid rules. “I’ve been single a long time. I’m sure I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Ella.”
The word tore her apart—her skin, her ribs, her heart. She gave him one last look, taking in all the severity framed by pure gorgeousness and turned on her heels. “I’ve told you before, that’s not my name.”
Chapter Fifteen
Bryan kept his attention on his computer as Shay came to stand inside the doorway of the Shot of Sin office. Her presence was never a good thing. Not lately, anyway.
“We’re ready for the management meeting. When are you coming down?”
“I’m skipping it.” He didn’t raise his focus. “Take notes for me.”
“You already missed last week’s meeting. And the one before that.”
He slid his palm over the pen laying on the table, his fingers clutching the flimsy plastic in a death grip. “And if I want, I’ll miss the next one, too. You know you don’t need me to participate.”