by Drea Stein
It was just Caitlyn, he reminded himself. He’d known her practically his whole life, but he’d been a couple of years older, and he hadn’t really noticed her until that summer. He’d come home to try to convince his father to invest in his idea, while his buddies lived together out in Silicon Valley, coding. It had been a futile effort, the investment part, but he’d been with Caitlyn, and he hadn’t minded his father stonewalling him so much. She had the power, the power to make him feel invincible. And how he had wanted her – to be her first, to be that for her – but it hadn’t worked out that way.
He saw headlights flashing through the front windows. She’d driven instead of walking across the lawn. One last check in the mirror. Tonight was a redo. It was time for Caitlyn Montgomery to meet the man she’d let get away.
“May I take your jacket?”
Caitlyn wasn’t sure she wanted to surrender the warmth of her coat, but Noah held out his hand, so she shimmied out of it and handed it to him. She felt his eyes slide over her body. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking wearing this dress. It was a wrap dress, deep blue with a light pattern on it, and it shimmered when she moved. Plus, it had a v that dipped, but not too low, in just the right place. It had cost a fortune, bought in Paris on a weekend trip. She hadn’t had the chance to wear it yet, and now, on its maiden voyage, she knew it was sending out some pretty strong signals. But that was what she had come for, right? She hadn’t asked Heather for help with her makeup, instead working off the memory of some of the tips she had given her.
“Shall we have a drink?” Noah’s dark eyes were back on her face. She swallowed, realizing that neither one of them were interested in being just friends.
But she nodded, desperately wanting something to keep her hands occupied. Caitlyn followed him into the kitchen, a big, designer one, with gleaming granite counters and top-of-the-line appliances. Everything was new and sparkled. Maxwell had had it redone not too long ago, but even then, he never used it. He was a bachelor, eating out most nights.
“It smells wonderful,” she said, and it did.
Noah smiled as he handed her a glass of wine. “I worked all day.”
Caitlyn glanced around the immaculate kitchen. “I can see all the hard work that went into it.”
“Are you teasing me?” he asked, moving closer to her. A dangerous smile quirked up the corner of his lips.
This time she didn’t try to dodge him, but let him get closer to her. His hand went up, but he was holding his wineglass.
“Cheers,” he said simply.
She clinked her glass to his, her eyes never leaving his face. Noah put his wine glass down on the counter, sliding it well back from the edge. He leaned in closer, one arm on either side of her so she was trapped, the small of her back against the edge of the counter. She could feel a stool behind her, and she was dimly aware there was music playing and candles lit, flames dancing.
“How was your day?” he asked, his chin brushing against her cheek. She inhaled deeply, smelling his aftershave and his soap, a fresh, clean scent that did nothing to hide the maleness of him. His bulk was on top her now, the front of her dress pressed against him.
“Fine,” she managed to answer. “I signed a new client today.”
“I heard. Wonderful news.” His teeth skimmed across her ear, and then one of his hands went up and brushed back her hair and his lips found the soft, sensitive spot just beneath her earlobe. His breath fanned her ear and pumped her heart. Caitlyn could think of nothing, not any coherent thought, and not any reason she should push him away.
His fingers trailed down her neck and skimmed the v where her breasts met. She shivered, desire licking through her.
“Cold?” he asked, his eyes locking with hers.
“No.” She shook her head. “Not cold at all.”
He shifted his weight, and one leg slid in between her thighs, and she moaned, already feeling wet with pleasure.
“Caitlyn,” he said, his voice hard, raspy, “is this what you want? Tell me now, and I’ll stop. I’ll let you go.” His hand skimmed one breast, then the other, giving a sharp little tug so she became hard under his touch.
She kissed him then, feeling him grow hard between her legs. His hand dropped lower, pulling the skirt of her dress up her thigh, his hands trailing up them until he pressed a thumb against the triangle of silk.
“You never answered me.” His hand hovered there, and she felt herself move, almost involuntarily, to get closer, to be in contact with him.
“Yes,” she managed to say, her voice hitching as she wrapped her hands around his shoulders, threading her fingers through his hair, bringing him closer to her. She leaned back, and his lips skimmed her neck, sending pulses of arousal through her, while his fingers pushed aside the silk barrier and found their way into her sex, massaging her, gently pressing there until she moaned and writhed with pleasure, feeling the sensations build in her slowly, almost painfully, until she could nearly bear it no longer.
His other hand came around behind her and cupped her, grasping the flesh of her buttocks tightly.
“Yes, what, Caitlyn?” He stopped all motion then, and she was forced to look into his eyes.
Her arousal was intense; she could feel the pressure of his fingers inside, a slow insistent pressure, prolonging the sweet agony and the ecstasy.
“I want this. I want you,” she said simply, and he smiled, gripping her harder, pushing her up higher against the counter while his fingers moved more insistently. She was swept away, all feeling, her nerve endings alive, while his lips and teeth trailed kisses down her neck and breasts, nipping at them until they were hard. He whispered to her, encouraging her, his voice, his kisses, his hands sweeping her until she hovered on the edge, poised on the knife of pleasure.
“C’mon, babe, it’s good … let it go,” he said to her. And she did, the orgasm ripping through her, thoroughly sating her, so when the last shudder had passed, she lay back against the counter, dress tucked up, her panties pulled down low, hands gripping the counter, letting the sensations slowly spill out of her.
Noah looked at her, a smile on his face. He was still between her legs, and she could feel his need for her. She reached for him, grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him closer, one hand starting to unbuckle him.
His smile turned to something dark and simmering. His hand went to stop her, but she loosened the buckle.
“Not here,” he said. “Not for our first time.” His breath was ragged as he looked at her, and she saw the desire for her in his eyes.
She didn’t know if she could make it upstairs, but Noah took the decision out of her hands, pulling her up and to him, so that her legs were wrapped around him as he carried her out of the kitchen and into the hallway, pausing only to lean her against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, pinning her up against it while his tongue ravished her.
“Now,” she panted, feeling the desire rise in her.
“Shh,” he whispered, starting up the stairs. “We’ve waited this long… what’s a few minutes more?”
She wanted to argue, but her brain wasn’t thinking. She was aware of only the sensations racing through her body, the feeling of need that was building. Caitlyn barely noticed what door he opened once they made it up the stairs, only that there was a bed and a lamp on, throwing a soft light. There was some music playing here, too, and he’d set out some candles as well, the flames dancing over the walls, throwing long, lingering shadows.
He dropped her on her back, and she lay there, with him standing over her, looking at her, his eyes devouring her. Noah stripped off his belt, and his trousers dropped. Deftly, he took off his shoes and then turned his attention to her, one hand grabbing her panties, which were snagged around her knees, drawing his hand up her leg, inch by exquisite inch, until she could barely take it, barely hold on. Then he removed her shoes, one by one, tossing them gently on the floor, followed by her panties.
His grin was wolfish as he undid the belt of her dres
s, letting it fall back against the bed. Caitlyn felt her insides grow liquid once again as his eyes never left her face.
Noah skimmed his fingers over the length of her legs and up her body, coming up to the white lace of her bra. He cupped a hand over her breast, squeezed one gently, then the other, while his other hand deftly undid the snap of her bra and they lifted free.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, bringing his mouth down, sucking at her, nipping at her bare, exposed flesh until she felt herself aroused all over again. Sensing her impatience, he let her undo the buttons of his shirt, and she shook it free, sending it over the side of the bed. She reached for his waist, but he stopped her, holding her hand and hovering above her, while he took off his underwear, and he sprung free, ready for her, his eyes impatient.
Noah leaned over her. She circled her arms around his neck, and he hiked her up, her legs wrapping around him. Caitlyn was dimly aware of the cool satin of the bedspread beneath her, but her mind went blank as he entered her, slowly at first, testing her, thrusting slowly, each one pushing her to new heights of pleasure.
His rhythm changed, more insistent as he worked towards his climax, and she matched him thrust for thrust, pleasure for pleasure, until she could take it no longer, and she was pushed over the edge, calling out his name, her hands kneading his back, her head flung backwards. He watched her and then followed, the two of them riding the crest until it exploded over them and everything faded away.
<<>>
Noah looked at her, his beautiful Caitlyn, her pale skin lit by the soft lamplight, her long, lithe body spread out beneath him, her legs and arms entangled around him. He was leaning heavily on her, and knew he should move, get up, get her clothes, a drink, something, but he was spent, too overcome to do anything but admire her. He brushed his hands through her hair, feeling the thudding of her heart against his chest. Her hands were stroking his back, touching his hair, and she was looking at him with a mix of wonder and satisfaction.
He smiled back at her. “Worth the wait?” he asked, hoping against hope that the answer would yes.
Caitlyn nodded. “Yes. Well worth the wait.” She said each word slowly, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him, as she asked shyly, “For you?”
“Oh babe,” he said, kissing her nose, “you have no idea.” She laughed, a simple, happy sound, and he pulled her close to him again, just letting her warmth wash over him. Yes, it had been worth the wait, every minute of those ten years, all he had done to be sure that he was worthy of her.
His Caitlyn.
They talked after that, about nothing in particular and then, when she confessed to be hungry, he found a shirt for her, and she wore that down to the kitchen, where they had their wine and their dinner.
They sat at a small table in the corner of the kitchen. She changed the music to something a little more upbeat.
“Funny, I’m not complaining, but the chocolate cake seems an awful lot like the…”
“Shh.” He put a hand to her lips. “Just enjoy the experience.”
Caitlyn took his finger, held it to her lips and said, “Oh, I am.”
He felt himself growing ready for her again, but he let her finish her cake before he pulled her from the table and led her upstairs.
Chapter 35
Caitlyn had risen, getting up carefully so as not to disturb Noah. He was big, stretched out in the bed, the covers bunched up over him. His arm skimmed the place where she’d been, and he gave a slight sigh. She watched, scarcely breathing, until his hand found the pillow and clutched it to him.
Last night had been amazing, she thought smugly as she found a brush in the bathroom, ran it through her hair and availed herself of some mouthwash. The best sex of her life? Caitlyn looked at herself in the mirror, at her tousled hair, her lips, slightly swollen, as if they’d been kissed too much and too hard.
She had borrowed one of his shirts, a soft blue cotton one that smelled of clean laundry, soap and Noah. She breathed it in, closing her eyes, and when she opened them, looking in the mirror, she saw someone, herself, with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. She had answered the what-if.
Yes, she felt great, better than great. If she and Noah had been together when she was eighteen, would she have ever wanted to do anything else, to be with anyone else?
One last look over her shoulder told her Noah was still sound asleep. So she moved quickly, gathering her clothes, dressing herself in the semidarkness. She was almost at the bottom of the stairs, heading towards the door, before she heard his voice.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was rough, sleep-thickened, and he was just a shadow in the early morning gloom. Then a light went on, the foyer’s chandelier, too bright until he dimmed it.
Caitlyn felt her mouth go dry. “I have to go to work.”
“At dawn?” He came down the steps with just his boxers on. She saw the firm outline of his shoulders, his well-muscled arms.
“You weren’t running away from me, were you?” he asked, his voice light, but his eyes begging her not to.
She shook her head, letting him wrap his arms around her. “Please don’t go,” he said, barely whispering.
Caitlyn felt his strength wrap around her, felt his desire for her through the thin film of his shirt. One of his hands dropped, caressing her thigh and then inching up. She trembled at the pleasure it brought, felt her nipples grow hard.
He trailed his lips against the length of her jaw, and she let her shoes drop to the floor again, giving herself up to him. Noah looked at her, one hand still inching up her thigh, drawing closer to the space between her legs, teasing, tantalizing her.
Noah kissed her then, a rough, fierce kiss that seemed to want to possess her, and Caitlyn gave in, arching her back into him, wrapping her own arms around his back and his neck. He hiked her up a bit, driving one of his thighs between her legs, opening her wide and stroking, gently stroking there until she moaned in pleasure.
He started to turn, to carry her to the bedroom, but she shook her head. She couldn’t wait.
“Right here,” she told him, and he leaned her back against the stairs, one arm grabbing her wrists, holding them there. His eyes watched hers as his hand touched her, and she let herself go, enjoying the feeling, her whole body shuddering, bucking with pleasure. Caitlyn could feel her body slick with sweat, knew that the only thing that mattered was Noah and his hands and what he was doing to her, how he was making her feel.
His fingers kept at their work, and then his head slid down, nudging her legs a little wider until she felt him down there, one hand playing with her breasts, massaging her nipples into little fierce points of pleasure.
She moaned, felt the moment come, savored it and then let herself go, her body shuddering with the explosion of her climax, her head thrown back, her legs open, her whole body heaving.
There was silence, just a moment. “Are you okay?” Noah asked, his face drawing level with hers, a wicked smile on her face.
Caitlyn let all the feelings wash over her and settle for a moment. One of his hands was still casually stroking her inner thigh, the other over her thudding heart.
She smiled. “Your turn,” she said, her hand finding him, hard and ready. She stroked, and his eyes widened. Then she brought him to her, guiding him into her, receiving him, giving him as much pleasure as he gave her, his eyes boring into her, and then finally, finally closing in pleasure as he came, too, pouring himself into her.
Chapter 36
Caitlyn watched as he moved down the floor towards her door. He stopped and chatted with people, and they bantered and laughed back. Noah did have a way with people; she did give him that. He was making his way towards her, and she let the knowledge that she’d had him, and he her, spread through her, a warm feeling that left her a little breathless. He leaned casually against the frame of the door, dapper in slacks, a button down and a jacket.
“Hello, Mr. Randall,” she said, trying not to smile. “You seem awfully happy
today.”
He grinned at her. “I had a very interesting meeting last night, Miss Montgomery.”
Well aware that the door was open and that their conversation could be overheard by the entire office, she asked, “Business or pleasure?”
“Why, a little bit of both.” He took two long strides across the carpet until he was standing in front of her desk, hands resting on the back of one of the chairs.
He looked casual yet commanding, and Caitlyn felt her heart race and her stomach flip as she remembered just how those long, elegant fingers had made her feel the night before.
Noah caught the drift of her gaze, and he flexed his hands while the smile disappeared from his face to be replaced with a harder, more considering look.
“If only you didn’t have a wall full of windows, Miss Montgomery, I think I might just be able to show you a little more of that pleasure.”
“Oh.” Caitlyn felt her stomach turn to jelly and realized she had forgotten to breathe.
“But,” he said, standing back up, his voice still low enough that it couldn’t be heard out in the hallway, “I was thinking maybe we could just have dinner?”
She swallowed, tried to speak and nodded. “My place or yours?”
“How about yours?”
“Eight o’clock then?” Caitlyn said, well aware that Heather was back at her desk, her chair tilted back, straining to hear every word.
“Delighted. Glad we’ll get to talk business, Miss Montgomery,” he said, winking at her and turning to go.
“My pleasure, Mr. Randall.”
He stopped, looked at her and dropped his voice. “I sure hope it is. See you later.”
And with that, he turned and walked out the door.
Heather was up out of her chair and in her office in an instant. “Can I get you anything, a cup of coffee?”
Caitlyn busied herself with her computer screen, pretending to type, trying to keep her head down, trying to let her heart rate return to normal.
“No, I’m fine.” Caitlyn thought that would be enough to get Heather to go away, but it wasn’t.