Against the Wall

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Against the Wall Page 13

by Rhyannon Byrd


  And what was truly amazing was that the more she got to know him, the harder she fell. The love that had been growing inside of her for the last three months began to blossom like a bud exposed to showers and sunshine, and suddenly it was taking on a vibrant life of its own. But if he saw the evidence burning in her eyes, he didn’t let on, so Shea struggled to tamp it down and keep it locked up tight before it spilled out and she couldn’t ever pull it back in.

  Of course, he didn’t make it easy. Especially when he grabbed her in the deserted back fiction aisle, wrapping her body within the strong, deliciously muscled circle of his arms. One second they were softly laughing at something he’d said and she turned to smile at him—then, in the next, she was captured between his gorgeous body and the rows full of Vonnegut and Voltaire at her back.

  She looked up at him with a startled, excited expression on her face, not really knowing what to expect. He’d never touched her with anything other than a sexual intent, and somehow she knew that he wasn’t looking for the thrill of getting caught screwing in the back aisle of a bookstore, tumbling copies of Cat’s Cradle and Candide at their feet.

  No…this time it was different. The dark look in his heavy-lidded gaze was no less hungry, but this time there was more to it. A deeper emotion. An underlying tenderness. A soft, aching need for connection that struck her harder than anything else that had happened between them to this point. A vulnerability that she’d never in a million lifetimes have thought she would see on this man’s face. The fact that it was all for her only made it that much more wrenchingly special.

  Ryan read the question in her eyes, his own crinkling at the corners as he tried to laugh off his intense, uncharacteristic loss of control. “I just need to kiss you,” he murmured softly…roughly, his face already lowering to hers, big hands pressing against the slender line of her back, pulling her into his wide, tall frame while he pushed her harder against the book-lined wall. “I just need the touch of your lips…your taste in my mouth,” he rasped, voice thick with wonder. “I don’t know how you fucking do this to me, but I’m dying for it like some junked out addict.”

  “Oh God,” she whispered, his words killing her with the need to have him—everything he was—forever. To grab hold of him and keep him as her own for every day and night for the rest of her life. And then his warm, silk-textured lips touched hers, and every thought fled her mind as rapidly as they’d been born. Love rushed up through her in a pure, wondrous burst of perfect, spellbinding heat and she fell into him, weightless, flying purely on sensation.

  It was Shea who made the first aggression, whose tongue stroked invitingly across the sensual line of his mouth until he opened to let her in. A low, dangerous growl freed itself from her throat, burrowing into her belly where it curled around itself and snuggled in for a slow, deep burn. An aching hunger that would only grow stronger, awaiting its turn to feast and gorge on pleasure in a greedy, rapacious feeding.

  “You are so damn dangerous,” he grunted. His big, trembling hands found the warm cheeks of her face, holding them as if in prayer, while his mouth worshipped hers with more longing than she’d ever dreamed she could endure. The long, massive ridge of his jeans-covered cock pressed against her mound, spearing her with need, and she cried into his mouth, the raw sound swallowed by his.

  Suddenly his head was angling from one side to the other, his tongue invading deeper, investigating every recess of her mouth, claiming possession, ownership, while he held her face immobile, keeping her utterly at his mercy. The dynamic shifted, and what started out as a gentle exploration erupted into a full-fledged devouring of sweetly erotic tastes and flavors—no longer a kiss, but an intimate eating of one mouth into another.

  Shea sobbed and clawed to get closer, mindless to everything, including her surroundings, as she struggled to get her hands wedged down the front of his jeans, wanting the immediate hot, hard feel of his cock.

  She reached gold—rock-hard and pulsing with power—just as his rough palms skimmed down her thighs, collecting fistfuls of skirt. Then they were sliding up smooth, naked skin, her skirt pooling over his forearms, as her thighs parted eagerly, swollen cunt starving for his touch. Calloused fingertips skimmed through her wet, slippery lips, and another growl crawled into her mouth, sliding down her throat.

  “Uhhmm,” she moaned, hips arching as two wicked fingers found her silky slit and drove deep. They were long and thick, perfect for a delicious, dizzying finger-fuck, as they began thrusting into her, curving forward until the rough tips were hitting her little hot spot, sending her dangerously close to climax. Her hips pumped, forcing her drenched, clinging flesh down on those thick digits, her small hand squeezing tighter, relishing the feel of his throbbing cock in her grip.

  She was just on the verge of exploding when he wrenched his mouth from hers and grunted, “Shit. We can’t do this here. I’m about two seconds away from fucking you without giving a crap who can see, and I don’t wanna embarrass you like that.”

  Two seconds more and she would have told him she didn’t give a damn, to get on with it already, but they both heard the shocked gasp and low male grunt at just that moment. Their heads turned slowly, in perfect unison, to see the attractive, twenty-something couple standing at the end of the aisle. The woman’s brown eyes were round, shocked wide with disapproval, while the man’s stayed glued to the erotic sight of Ryan’s hand shoved inside the leg of her thong, fingers buried up her pulsing cunt.

  A violent wave of possession struck him out of nowhere, and before he could claw his way to the surface of sanity, Ryan felt the burning jealousy take hold. It sucked him deeper into that dark, hidden place where everything he felt for this woman churned with the need to break free. He knew he should pull his hand out from between her legs, get her own talented little hand out of his damn pants, and get her the hell outta there before he sank even further, but he did none of those things.

  What he did was unlike anything he’d ever done before—not even in the carelessness of youth. Knowing she watched the fascinated couple with stunned eyes, Ryan lowered his mouth to her ear, his fingers resuming their thick plunge and stroke inside the sopping, delectable heat of her juice-soaked cunt.

  She shuddered in his arms, her entire body going stiff with tension, wondering what the hell he was doing. “Ry-Ryan…?”

  Her long skirt flowed over his powerful arms, and he wrenched the material to the side with his free hand, wanting there to be no doubt as to where his fingers were buried. “You see the way he’s watching you?” he growled, fingers pumping harder…faster…until they were making slick, slurping sounds over the gentle music of the store. “He’s watching the way my fingers are drilling you—fucking you—and wishing like hell they were his own. Wishing it was his tongue shoved up inside of you. His cock.”

  And it was true. She could see it—feel it—watching the way the stranger’s eyes remained riveted on the pink, plump flesh between her trembling thighs. She could feel how badly he wanted it to be his own hand shoved between her drenched folds, crammed into her open sex, furiously pumping her for pleasure.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered. Her voice sounded thick with disbelief and the strange, unbearable arousal she couldn’t disguise.

  “Hell if I know—but I want you to come,” he ordered roughly, fingers moving faster, muscles and veins sticking out in his thick forearm as he worked her, ruthless in his intent. His dark, hooded eyes cut back to the couple. The guy’s baby blues were glazed with lust, his pants tenting with his too obvious erection, and Ryan wanted to howl at the moon from the feral, primitive impulse to stake his claim on Shea right there and then, forcing the guy to watch it.

  “Let’s show the little bastard how hard you come for me,” he grunted, knowing the couple could hear him, wanting them to know she was his to do with as he pleased, however he pleased—needing them to know how completely he controlled her sexuality. At that moment he’d have fucked her in front of the whole fucking town j
ust to prove the undeniable fact that she was his to fuck in whatever way he chose.

  His—and no other’s.

  The strange, uncomfortable, somehow exhilarating eroticism of the moment washed over her, crashing down on her, and suddenly Shea was gritting her teeth to choke back a guttural scream of release as her pussy spasmed, clamping down hard, and then began the steady pump and grind of orgasm that had her creaming all over him, soaking his hand. “Oh God,” she sobbed, watching the strangers watch her, while Ryan took her right where he wanted, his wicked fingers keeping her going until the pumping of her hips slowly eased and her pussy felt raw from the unforgiving force of sensation. “God.”

  She could feel the hot color burning in her cheeks, whether from coming or being watched by strangers while she did, she couldn’t say. Probably a bit of both. The woman’s wide eyes darted back and forth between her shocked, pleasure-filled expression and Ryan’s fierce, possessive scowl, but the guy’s hot gaze stayed glued right on her crotch. Time moved slowly, sluggishly, weighted with tension, making it difficult to breathe. Just when she was certain they’d turn around and run to find the nearest manager to lodge a complaint—or better yet, race home for a fast, furious quickie—the guy let out an audible groan and licked his lips.

  She had about a second to think, “Oh…hell,” and then Ryan’s fingers slipped from between her legs with a soft, yet audibly wet suction. Caught between dizzying shock at their display of exhibitionism and the uncomfortable realization that it had aroused the hell out of her to be so publicly claimed, Shea wrenched her eyes away from the young stud to see Ryan lift his cum-soaked fingers to his mouth. A small, strangled yelp stuck in her throat as his tongue snaked out to take a long, sexy, clearly enjoyable lick of the glistening juice shimmering on his skin.

  “Fuck me,” the guy groaned, grabbing his cock through his jeans while his wife or girlfriend or whoever the hell she was stared at Ryan with equal parts distress and dazed desire.

  He took another long, sensuous lick of creamy cum, and then said in a low, rough voice. “Show’s over, asshole. Now get lost.”

  The woman jumped, startled by the undisguised threat of violence in his tone, and quickly pushed the still stunned man back around the corner.

  Suddenly they were alone, and Shea didn’t have a clue what to say.

  Ryan shifted, helping her to remove her death grip on his cock, and then they were staring helplessly at each other. She stared down at her hand with a surprised look of recollection, as if she’d only just realized she’d had it in his pants the entire time the voyeuristic couple had been looking on.

  “Ah…shit,” he sighed, raking one hand through his hair in a boyish gesture that tugged at her heart every damn time he did it. “I’m…ah,” he stumbled awkwardly, looking almost sheepish as a slow flush worked its way into his gold-stubbled cheeks. “Ah hell,” he drawled. “I didn’t mean to do that like…that…in this place. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, doing that to you.”

  Shea shifted restlessly from foot to foot, not a clue how to react or what to say. Finally, she managed to mumble out a, “Do you think we need to, um, worry about the police? I don’t want to end up on one of those When Good Girls Go Bad videos or anything.”

  The sensual line of his mouth cocked up at one corner in a teasing grin, blue eyes sparkling with mischief…and an underlying, undeniable satisfaction that he couldn’t hide. He’d thrown her headfirst into a mind-shattering orgasm that had left his hand feeling bruised and his heart aching from the need to claim her for good…for his own…forever.

  He tapped the tip of her nose with his finger, relieved she wasn’t ripping into him for his crazy-assed caveman routine, but not about to blame her if she did. “Nah, you don’t have to worry about any of that. Take a look around. There aren’t any cameras on this aisle.”

  Instead of checking out their surroundings, she stared fixedly at his chin. “And the police?” she asked with a sick feeling churning in the pit of her stomach, suddenly wondering about how she’d manage to explain to the university about being arrested for lewd public conduct. Talk about freaking embarrassing.

  “Ah sugar, I am the police, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah…okay.”

  His hand hooked under her chin, lifting her face, and their gazes reconnected with an exhilaratingly, tingling burst of emotion. Before they even knew it was happening, or could explain why, they were smiling at one another, eyes shining with mischievous delight. Then smiles quickly turned to grins, grins to soft chuckles, and within moments, they were laughing so hard tears were streaming down their cheeks, their sides aching with stitches.

  Shea was still giggling like crazy when Ryan ushered her through the front of the store, thankfully without running into any outraged managers or law enforcement officers. They climbed up into his truck, wiping their eyes as they tried to get their laughter under control, only to crack up again every time they looked at each other.

  Leaning over the console, Ryan planted a soft, lingering kiss against her smiling lips. “Thanks for not getting pissed at me.”

  “And thanks—” she stuttered, eyes bright with devilish humor as she suddenly began hiccupping. “Thanks for making me come.”

  “My pleasure,” he growled, nipping at her lip just as she hiccupped again. Then they were dissolving into another helpless round of laughter, arms clutched around their aching stomachs as they tried to hold it in.

  “Ah shit,” he finally drawled, resting his forehead against her still shaking shoulder. “We must be crazy.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better,” she hiccupped, unable to resist the temptation to run her fingers through his silk-textured scrub of hair, his warm, masculine scent filling her lungs, “I’ve never had so much fun shopping for books in my entire life.”

  His head lifted, a lopsided grin pulling up one corner of his mouth. “Yeah, me neither,” he laughed softly, but the look in his dark blue eyes was once again tender, shooting straight through her, like an invisible claw spearing into her chest, squeezing her heart. She stared at him, knowing that everything she felt was right there for him to see—and no longer giving a damn.

  His gaze moved over every feature, every detail of her face, with an intense look of longing, and then settled back on her eyes. “Since I promised myself I wouldn’t fuck you again until tonight—”

  “Why?” she interrupted, lost in her own exploration, mesmerized by the rugged growth of golden-stubble on his cheeks, the strong line of his cheekbones and the sexy, slightly crooked line of his nose, as if it’d been broken and reset at some point in his life.

  He caught a curl and tucked it gently behind her ear, then trailed his fingers along the delicate curve of her jaw, marveling at the softness of her skin. She didn’t normally wear makeup, other than the slick rub of gloss on her lips, and he loved the bare, natural feel of her flesh beneath his fingertips. “’Cause you need some rest for what I’ve got planned for you later on.”

  “Oh…”

  “Yeah. A lot of rest. So you wanna go catch the flick?”

  Was it suddenly warmer in the truck, or was she on the verge of spontaneous combustion just from the searing look of heat and sexual promise burning in his beautiful blue eyes? She swallowed thickly, trying not to pant. “Uh, yeah, sure. The movie sounds great.”

  So after books, coffee, and their mild stint at exhibitionism, they hit the theater, and Shea found the Ritchie movie as fun as his other crazy London mob-scene tales. Ryan hadn’t caught his previous films, but he laughed right along with her and casually suggested they rent his earlier stuff to watch together. Once again, her heart went into overdrive, and she figured at this rate she was going to have to either distract herself with more mind-blowing sex, which made thinking a near impossibility, or simply cave in.

  Since breaking down and pouring her heart out would probably be a surefire way to get rid of him for good—when all she really wanted to do was keep him forever—it was
an enormous relief when the next opportunity for sex finally presented itself.

  Their dinner at Vesuvio’s was as mouthwatering as the Lifestyle review had claimed it would be, and the atmosphere proved to be a perfect ending to their day. They talked about his work, her thesis, and her student teaching at the university. He shared funny stories about growing up with Hannah and how he’d met Derek on a stakeout turned disaster. They laughed, talked, and learned, to their mutual surprise, that they had a hell of a lot more in common than they’d ever imagined.

  She’d been determined not to worry about all those things she couldn’t control—from her heart and his intentions, to the nightmare last night with Spalding—and had ended up having the best damn day of her life.

  Throughout the afternoon, Ryan had been off and on the phone with Derek, learning some surprising information. It’d turned out that Spalding had several outstanding warrants from three different states, so his bastard ass was going to be put away for a good long while, and she wasn’t going to waste her time with Ryan worrying about the jerk.

  In fact, the only thing she was starting to worry about was how much longer she was going to have to wait to feel Ryan inside of her again. She needed him to ease the ache that had been steadily gaining intensity since she’d last held him buried deep within her body—and she needed him now.

  Looking at him over the rim of her wineglass, the rich merlot slipping smoothly down her throat, Shea felt her empty pussy grow warm and wet at the delicious sight he made sitting across from her. His short, golden hair tossed from the wind, his blue eyes dark in the candlelight, and his mouth twisted into the kind of smile that said he knew she was watching him, and that she more than liked what she saw.

 

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