Living in Secret: Living In..., Book 3

by Jackie Ashenden

  Was this how he’d felt last night when she’d sucked him off? This naked? This raw?

  Helplessly, her eyes opened and she looked down.

  And met the deep indigo of his gaze staring back.

  A bubble of air stuck in her throat at the expression on his face. At the understanding there.

  If there had been any doubt he’d felt the way same last night, it was gone. He had. And he knew exactly what she was feeling now.

  His hands moved, as his thumb began a slow, maddening circle around her clit. While he watched her with a hungry, focused look as if he was cataloguing every tiny alteration in her expression.

  She couldn’t look away. Even when he bent his head, his tongue once again beginning a slow, thorough exploration of her sex. And she kept on looking as his thumb continued to make that maddening movement, his tongue pushing deep inside her.

  The sight of his thumb on her, of his mouth against her skin was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.

  Pleasure grew sharp thorns, digging into her. Making her shake. She couldn’t keep still, shifting her hips beneath his mouth and the push of his tongue, desperate for the release he seemed hell bent on withholding. Her fingers found the black softness of his hair and she held on tight, short, hard gasps escaping her.

  It was too much. She couldn’t deal with it. And even though it was suspiciously like begging, she forced it out anyway. “C-Connor. Please…I…now…”

  He must have understood because he did something with his tongue and suddenly the bright star of pleasure gathering inside her exploded. And as the shockwave hit, locking her muscles and tearing a hoarse cry from her throat, the blue of his eyes was all she saw. And for the first time, she let herself drown in them.

  He kept his cheek pressed to the softness of her inner thigh, the scent and taste of her filling him. Soft heat and musk and salt. A delicate, feminine flavor he knew would haunt his dreams for probably the rest of his life. As would the sight of her watching him as he ate her out. Wide black eyes. Flushed olive skin. Full red lips. The sounds of her ragged breathing. Her husky cries.

  She was delicious. He wanted to keep doing this all night. Especially if it meant her falling apart so beautifully for him, the way she’d done just now. It was a rush. A heady power trip. And it felt so good to know he had the same effect on her when he had his mouth on her as she’d had on him the night before.

  It was true that oral sex hadn’t been what he’d been planning initially. But when she’d come in the door, she’d looked tired. Drawn. And her admission of the fact leaving was going to be difficult felt like she’d given him something, a little piece of herself he hadn’t had before.

  For the past two nights this had been about him. And as long as she’d gotten off too, he hadn’t much cared how selfish that was of him. But when she’d come in this evening, he’d found he did care. That he wanted to give her something, make up for the difficult phone conversation they’d had earlier that day.

  Oh, he wasn’t entirely altruistic. It wasn’t as if he’d never thought about what she would taste like. Plus that power trip…yes, he’d liked that too. And he did have certain plans for this evening involving her relieving the raging hard-on that had his cock pushing against the zipper of his trousers.

  But he’d found that fantasies and power trips weren’t enough. He’d wanted more. He wanted her to trust him the way he’d trusted her the night before. To know she could fall apart and it would be okay. That she didn’t need to leave. That he would keep her safe.

  He really didn’t know quite why that was important to him, maybe just to give back what she’d given him, but it was important nonetheless.

  The glaze of orgasm faded had from her eyes, her breathing slowing.

  He rose up on his knees and gently lifted her legs from the arms of the chair, lowering them back down onto the seat. She made no move to help or even to cover herself up, her gaze locked on his face.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked in a cracked voice.

  “Why did I do what?”

  “The…oral sex.”

  “Because I thought you deserved something for yourself.”

  “Oh.”

  He hesitated then added, “And because I’ve always wanted to know what you taste like.”

  There was an expression in her eyes, he couldn’t name. “But you never have.”

  “No.” He reached down for her panties he’d discarded on the floor.

  “Why not?”

  The question hit him unexpectedly hard, in the same way her questions about their marriage had earlier in the day had. Because there were traps there. Snares that would catch him if he wasn’t careful.

  Slowly he reached up and began to smooth her skirt down, using the movement to gather his thoughts. She didn’t stop him, but he could feel her watching him.

  I couldn’t touch you because I’m afraid of my desire for you. Because control is the only thing that stops me from being an animal like my father.

  “Because you didn’t seem to want it,” he said aloud.

  “And yet you never asked.”

  He sat back on his heels, looking up at her. The flush was still staining her cheeks, her hair half coming out of the bun it had been in when she’d first walked in the door. She looked like a woman thoroughly sated, thoroughly pleasured. Goddamn beautiful. And he wanted her under him, not yet more discussion about a marriage that had never worked in the first place.

  “We’ve already had this discussion, Victoria. Our marriage is over and done with. There’s no point going over old ground.”

  “When you’re with me like this, it’s like you’re a different man,” she said as if he hadn’t spoken, her dark eyes searching his face. “Why is that, Connor? Why are you trying to hide?”

  This time her question was a bullet, precisely aimed and only narrowly missing its target.

  Too close. Much, much too close.

  She sat forward all of a sudden, the intensity of her gaze like a searchlight. “What are you so afraid of?”

  A cold thread of shock ran through him. How the hell had she been able to see that? How did she know?

  He stood up in an abrupt, jerky movement. “We’re not here to talk. We’re here to fuck. That’s all. So get up stairs and get your ass in my bed.”

  She stared at him and he experienced a second’s doubt. That she’d actually leave. She’d get up and walk away, and he’d be left standing there all night with a hard-on and the taste of her in his mouth.

  But she didn’t. Instead she got up out of the chair in a graceful motion. And there was something confronting in her eyes as she slowly peeled down her skirt and kicked it off. Undid the buttons of her blouse and shrugged it down her arms to let it fall on the floor, where her bra joined it seconds later. Then, wearing only her business-like heels, she walked past him.

  He clenched his fists wanting to grab her, punish her for daring to challenge him like this. Because he had no doubt it was a challenge. But he managed to keep himself under control enough to turn and watch her as she walked, hips swinging, to the doorway.

  Where she paused.

  “You can fuck me,” she said. “But I’m not staying the night. So if you want me, you’re going to have to come now.” Another small pause. “And I do mean that literally.”

  Then she turned and walked out of the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Victoria was as good as her word. She didn’t stay, dressing silently and quickly, leaving without a word not long after one a.m.

  He tried to get some sleep after that, but sleep was difficult when he still had the taste of her in his mouth, the smell of her in his nostrils and the memory of her naked body clouding his brain.

  Work the next day was a struggle and he was not pleased when Jane, one of his law clerks, stopped him in the reception area a
s he was finally on his way home. She had a the shit has just hit the fan look on her face which instantly made him wary. Because for the first time since he could remember, he didn’t want to stay in the office to sort out problems. Victoria was due in a couple of hours and he had a special dinner in mind he wanted to cook her, one he was going to make sure she ate this time.

  “What is it?” he asked impatiently, resisting the urge to tell her that whatever it was, he’d deal with it tomorrow.

  “Remember Ben’s medical records? That the surgery insisted were missing?”

  Connor tensed. “Oh Christ. They turned up, didn’t they?”

  She made a face. “Yep.”

  Which meant the defense now had incontrovertible proof Ben Andersen had been assaulted by his father. And that was going to make the murder charge next to impossible to stick. Connor would be lucky if he got manslaughter.

  Ben Andersen had killed his father, shot him with a rifle, and he was, in all likelihood, going to go free.

  Unpunished.

  His emotions moved through him like caged beasts, heavy and powerful, pushing at the limits of his control. All so much closer to the surface than they used to be. Rage. Frustration. And there was something else there too, another emotion he kept buried so far down he almost never thought about it. Guilt.

  He wanted to throw something, maybe his briefcase, straight through the plate glass of Blake and Associates office windows.

  Or maybe what you need is her. Shove her against a wall, take her hard…

  Connor let out a silent, measured breath. No. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t hold back, but he also wasn’t going to take out his emotions on her in that way. He’d done that once before with catastrophic consequences. It wouldn’t happen again.

  He had to be calm. He had to be in control of himself at all times. And tonight he wouldn’t do any of the things he’d planned until after they’d had a civilized dinner. Hell, perhaps they’d even talk before they got down to business. Yes, he’d said talking wasn’t the point of their arrangement, but he’d meant the heavy, loaded conversations they’d been having over the past couple of nights. What they needed to stick to were more intellectual and dispassionate topics. Discuss things the way they used to.

  Regardless, he needed to prove he was in control of himself before he took control of her, that was for certain. Especially when he felt like this.

  “Thank you, Jane,” he said calmly, pleased his voice sounded even. “Looks like we’re going to have to rethink our strategy.”

  Jane nodded, oblivious to the storm raging inside him. Waiting for him to issue some kind of command as to what to do.

  Which is what he should be doing. Taking control of this situation, dealing with this latest problem in what was proving to be a significantly problematic case. Calling Victoria to cancel tonight…

  No.

  The denial that rose up inside him was so sure it almost didn’t even need thinking about. They only had two more nights and then she would be going. He wouldn’t see her again. Christ, he hadn’t had enough…

  Jane was still waiting, one brow lifted.

  “Go home,” he said tersely. “Get a good night’s sleep. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

  Both brows lifted. Connor was known for being a slave-driver and being sent home at five was almost unheard of when there was an important case on the line. “Uh… Are you sure?” she asked.

  “No. Which means you’d better go now before I change my mind.”

  She didn’t ask twice, disappearing off in the direction of her office to no doubt grab her things and get out of there before he did change his mind. Not that he was going to.

  Connor turned, striding to the office’s entrance and smacking open the double doors, stepping out onto the sidewalk.

  It should matter to him that his case was pretty much screwed. That if he wasn’t careful Ben Anderson was going to go free and the kid wouldn’t end up paying for the crime of taking a life.

  And it did matter, of course it did.

  But he would deal with that in the morning. Because right now, Victoria mattered more.

  Victoria only had to knock once on the door before Connor pulled it open. Clearly he’d been waiting for her to arrive.

  He didn’t say anything, reaching out and pulling her inside, slamming the door. Then his hands covered her hips and she was being backed up against the wall, the heat of his body pressed to hers. The expression on his face was taut with hunger yet he didn’t do anything but stand there, staring down at her. His eyes glittered, his mouth in a tight line.

  God, he was so damn sexy. He was all she’d thought about all bloody day. And even the fact she hadn’t left his bed ’till after midnight the night before, that it had only been a matter of twelve hours or so since she’d seen him, hadn’t dulled the desire.

  She wanted him so much. Again.

  He leaned his forearms against the wall near her head. Moved in closer, his mouth almost brushing hers. His hips shifted, making her aware he was hard. Yet he didn’t kiss her. Didn’t make any other kind of move.

  She tilted her head back. “Connor?”

  “I expect you to stay tonight, are we clear?”

  Well, why not? It wasn’t as if she had anything better to get back to. “Okay.”

  There was another long silence.

  “No,” he said slowly, as if to himself. “No. Not yet.” Then his arms dropped and he stepped back, turning away.

  Surprised, she stared at the tense line of his shoulders and back. “Hey? What’s going on?”

  He didn’t answer, already walking away from her, down the hallway in the direction of the lounge.

  Victoria stared after him, her body aching, an inexplicable disappointment sitting inside her. What the hell was that all about? Was this some new way of tormenting her?

  She followed him down the hall and into the lounge. This time the curtains were open, the early spring twilight falling over the neatly manicured garden outside. The garden Connor had insisted on planting himself, an Italian villa style with terraces and pots, boxed hedges and cypresses. A tidy, very controlled kind of garden.

  He’d gone over to the doorway to the kitchen area and had paused, turning to glance at her. “Dinner will be ready shortly,” he said, curt. “Why don’t you sit down and have a drink?”

  She ignored his attempt at niceties. “Ah, so are we going to have a discussion now? Because I thought we were just here to ‘fuck’.”

  Connor was silent, a muscle ticking his jaw. Then he said, “I’m too angry right now for that. You’ll have to give me an hour or so.”

  His honesty took her by surprise since she hadn’t been expecting to get much of a response. “What are you angry about?”

  “A setback at work. It’s nothing.” His voice was flat, guarded. A familiar tone. The one he always used when she was intruding. The one that told her not to ask any more questions.

  Fuck that.

  A shot of something hot and angry pierced her. He couldn’t tell her he was “too angry” only to fob her off with crap like “setbacks at work”. Not when he’d been insisting on certain truths from her. It didn’t work that way.

  “Oh well,” she said coolly. “In that case, you won’t mind if I don’t stay for dinner. I have some work to do at home so—”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Anger glittered in his gaze. “You can’t leave. We’ve only got two more nights left.”

  “Then if you want them, you’re going to have to give me more than damn ‘setbacks’, Connor. Especially when you keep demanding the truth from me.”

  His mouth hardened. “I don’t have to give you a thing.”

  “No. And neither do I.” She didn’t wait for him to reply, turning and marching back toward the doorway.

  Only to get ha
lfway across the room and come to a halt as his long, warm fingers wrapped around her upper arm.

  “Don’t push me, Victoria,” he growled softly, pulling her against him.

  Her heart was thumping, adrenaline firing in her blood, excitement gathering inside her. Because she had power here too and she couldn’t let herself forget it. He might be able to get things out of her, but she could get things out of him if she managed it right. She could push him. And perhaps it would do both of them good if she did.

  “Why shouldn’t I push you?” She didn’t move, concentrating on the heat of him along her spine and the grip of his hand on her arm. “Maybe that’s what you need, Connor. Maybe that’s what you really want from me. You want to be pushed.”

  “And you have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t want me when I’m like this, you really don’t.”

  They’d never tested each other. Had always accepted each other’s boundaries. Yet there was something exhilarating about taunting him like this. Like poking a sleeping tiger with a stick to see what would happen, half of her terrified of waking it up, the other half desperate to see it roused, wanting the excitement of the danger.

  “Interesting how you have no problem telling me what I want. But when I tell you the same thing, it’s all ‘you have no idea’.” She put a hand behind her, gripped the hard muscle of his thigh. “What are you afraid of? Should I be worried you’re going to be the one running out tonight?”

  His hold tightened, pulling her more firmly against his body. “I will not be running away.”

  “Oh no? Then why did you in the hallway? You were going to take me, weren’t you? You were going to push me up against that wall and fuck me. But you didn’t. Why not? You don’t think I can take it? Is that what you’re worried about?”

  His mouth was by her ear, rough and hot. “Stop talking, Victoria.”

  But she couldn’t seem to shut herself up. Her heart was racing and she knew she was playing with fire and yet it felt good to test those boundaries for a change. Push those limits. Change things.