I was startled by how little time it took to make her thighs start to shake, her heels drumming against the broad bed. Gwen's hands tightened almost painfully on my hair, but I refused to be pushed away, not when she was chanting yes, yes yes in a hushed and needy tone.
Her body arched like a bow, drawing tight for the flight of an arrow, and then with a deep groan that struck me low in the belly, she stiffened up with a cry. For one beautiful moment, every muscle in her body was tensed and then with a great cry, she relaxed again, falling down on the bed in a tangle of slender limbs. She was babbling something. Most of it was my name, and for a moment, I simply watched her. Her pleasure was beautiful, but I wasn't done yet.
She opened her eyes lazily when I came to lie down by her side. She cried out in surprise when I pulled her astride my hips, looking up at her with a grin.
“Don't think that you're getting off so lightly...”
She shifted her weight I wrapped my hands around her hips, placing her just perfectly so that her wet warmth was positioned right above the tip of my cock. She whimpered at that intimate sensation, but the tension that strung through her body and the bright gleam in her eyes told me that she was as eager for what came next as I was.
We shifted together, and with my hands on her hips to guide her, Gwen pressed down on my cock, taking me fully in one slow, powerful stroke. She felt amazing wrapped around my cock like that, but I couldn't stand to simply enjoy that pleasure for now. The entire time I had been bringing her to pleasure, I had ached for her, and I didn't think I could wait much longer. My hands tightened on her hips, lifting her up and bringing her down on me again. She gasped with surprise at the motion, but then she was moving with, pushing our bodies together and making us both groan.
I had never felt anything as good, as right as Gwen. I had never known a woman as innocently intoxicating, as perfectly matched with my desire and my appetites. I couldn't help looking up at her as she rode me. There was something beautifully divine about her on top of me, giving me pleasure and taking it for herself as well.
The tension rose in me like the tide, and I gritted my teeth. I didn't want it to be over too soon, but I had put it off too long. With a muffled roar, I pushed into her, holding her hips hard to mine.
Gwen gasped, her nails digging into my chest, and when she felt me spill inside her, she sighed softly, going limp. I counted my breaths as she lay on top of me, listening in something like awe as we matched each other breath for breath.
“God, you're perfect,” I murmured, but from the soft way she breathed on top of me, I didn't even think she had heard it. At last, I had to shift her off of me, pulling away with a faint regret.
“No, don't leave,” Gwen murmured softly, reaching for me, and I shook my head.
“I'll be right back, darling,” I promised. “I just want to take good care of you...”
I washed myself quickly in the bathroom, and then I came back with a small hand towel soaked in warm water.
“On your back,' I told her, and I smiled a little as she complied easily. She murmured in surprise as I pulled her legs apart again. It occurred to me that if I wanted her again, she would let me have her, as exhausted as she was, and that thought awakened another throb of desire in my body. I held it back, though, and instead I focused on cleaning her between the legs with the towel. She moaned with embarrassment at first, but then when she realized how very good it felt, she relaxed bed into the bed with a sigh.
“That feels so good,” Gwen murmured, and I made a sound of assent.
“I always want to make you feel that way,” I told her, and she offered me a bright and sleepy smile.
It was the truth, I realized. I wanted to make her feel good. I wanted to dress her in beautiful clothes and take them off of her, I wanted to make sure she had all of the time in the world to sing and to write her music, just so long as she would smile at me while she did it.
Before I was done, she had dropped off to a deep sleep. I crawled into the bed beside her, and as if we had slept together for years, she snuggled up next to me.
Can I keep her?
The dangerous thought wandered unbidden through my mind, though I had long ago dismissed the thought of getting married, and I pulled away from it now. I fell asleep to the idea of her traveling with me, of giving her an apartment that would delight her, all the while keeping her as close to me as I could.
CHAPTER NINE
Gwen
“Hey, watch it!”
I yelled, hanging on to the tall pile of dirty dishes with all of my might. Somehow, I managed to keep them from clattering to the ground, and the bus boy only shot me an aggrieved look as he hustled back to the kitchen. I started to go after him, but Andrea placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Time for a break, babe,” she said firmly. “We're out of the weeds now, and you're overdue.”
I wanted to argue with her, but she was right. I dropped off the plates and followed her out to the courtyard to sit and to be out of the dining room for a moment.
“How long you been waiting tables?” she asked, and I shrugged.
“Since I was fifteen or so?”
“Yeah, that checks out. Point is, I've known you for years, and I've never seen you come close to taking a spill as bad as the one that almost happened now. What's up? Is mystery man making you miserable?”
I blushed a little at that. Sometimes I wished I smoked just so I had something to do with my hands during awkward talks.
“I'm fine,” I protested, but she shook her head.
“Hon, it looks to me like you got man problems. What's the real problem. He married or something?”
“No!' I said, offended, but Andrea shrugged.
“Figured it was worth asking. Can't think of too many reasons you might want to keep your man away from us. Carly was wondering if it was because he was an asshole, but I thought you were too smart for that. I was thinking maybe he was married.”
“He's not,” I said, looking down.
I hadn't been able to keep the fact that I was dating someone away from the sharp women I worked with, but I knew instinctively not to tell them about the.... arrangement that Donovan and I had somehow settled on.
“I care about you,” he had bluntly informed me on the jet ride back to Florida. “Very much. But you should know what you are getting when you are with me.”
I’d listened as he’d spoken of wanting to take care of me, to spend time with me. But then, he’d also cautioned me not to expect anything like marriage out of him. He’d informed me that if and when things ended, I was not to chase him! I had been so shocked by his blunt assessment of our relationship that I hadn’t known what to say, and while I’d fumbled for the right words, he had taken my hand, squeezing it slightly.
“I'm not going to force you into anything, Gwen. I never will. But I want you. I care for you. I want to make you feel things that you haven't ever imagined before. But it needs to be your choice.”
He had said that, and it had been on the tip of my tongue to tell him no, that I believed the songs I sang. I wanted love, passion and romance. Before I could, though, I had looked into his eyes, and seen a kind of vulnerability there that shocked me. His eyes were always so dark, but in that moment I’d noticed a kind of longing there that I’d previously missed.
Don't leave me.
There was more to Donovan than he let on, and in that single moment, I had decided to risk it all on my instincts.
“All right,” I said. “I don't promise that I can do this, but... I want to try.”
Donovan had looked immeasurably satisfied, and when he took my hand, there was something victorious about it.
“Good,” he said. “You won't regret it.”
As romantic declarations went, it wasn't what I had always dreamed of, but Donovan, in his own way, made up for it. He was mystified that I wanted to keep working; if he’d had his way, he would have kept me in one of the apartments he owned, or even in the penthouse
itself. Instead, I insisted on working, and at night...
I still couldn't reconcile the passion that Donovan woke in me with the person I had been all my life. He took me to heights I had never dreamed of, and when I returned to the world, shaken by my own response, he held me close with the gentle kisses that I could barely believe came from the same man.
When I was with him, I felt safe and desired and cared for and perfect. Away from him... I didn't know what to think. I hadn’t known until just now that it was getting obvious enough that my coworkers were keeping worried eyes on it, and I sat quietly for a moment before turning back to Andrea.
“I'm really fine,” I said. “I guess I've just had a lot to think about...”
Andrea snorted, shaking her head.
“Sure, I'll believe that. You should bring him out sometime, see if he passes muster. If he doesn't, we'll send him packing.”
I choked back a laugh thinking about Donovan coming out for drinks with the restaurant staff. I couldn't imagine that ending well, and I brought myself up short. He wasn't the one who had told me to keep our relationship a secret. He hadn't said anything of the sort. That was one demand he had not made. I had just done it on my own, and I suddenly felt more than a little strange.
There were dozens of reasons to keep our relationship quiet. Donovan owned the hotel. People might get jealous; they might start making all kinds of inferences about what I did or why I did it, and I didn't want that.
Had I done something wrong?
I was still thinking about that when I went to take the next round of orders. I wanted whatever it was that I had with Donovan to go well, but did I even know what a healthy relationship between the two of us might look like?
“Hi, I'm Gwen, and I'll be taking your order today, Can I get you started with some drinks?”
I said it dozens of times every day, but when I looked down at the woman who had just been seated, I felt the next words freeze in my mouth.
“Oh my god, Gwen,” said Jordan. “What in the name of little green tomatoes are you doing here?”
Her words might have been kind, but her tone was positively delighted.
“I work here,” I said stiffly. The last time I had seen this woman, I had been dressed in clothes that cost far more than my rent. Now I was in my usual drab restaurant uniform, and though I had never been ashamed of putting in a decent day's work before, I could feel an unpleasant heat prickling across my cheek.
“Oh, well isn't that delightful,” she said, grinning and showing her teeth. “I was planning to get in touch with you after the gala, and for the life of me, I couldn't track you down. I guess I didn't think to look here... though perhaps I should have. I know that Donovan is in residence here somewhere, isn't he?”
“He is,” I said automatically, and flinched a little when Jordan's smile got even wider. “But I, um, really should be speaking to you about the specials. I'm on the job.”
If anything, Jordan's smile got wider. She leaned forward in her chair a little, and all I could think about was a big cat getting ready to strike.
“Oh I don't think you need to worry about that right this moment, do you? We're just having a little chat, I'm sure the manager won't mind.”
I fiddled uncertainly with my pad and pencil, and Jordan looked me over. I could tell that she was taking in all of it, the uniform, the lank hair, the slight sheen of sweat from having been on my feet all day.
“My, my, I had no idea that Donovan was picking up friends at work. And here I thought you were from up the coast. You know, someone important.”
I would never have called myself important at all, but when I heard her dismissal, it stung.
“Well, you certainly did fool a lot of people,” she purred. “There was more than one gentleman there who didn't know you were with Donovan Fox and was interested in an introduction. Won't they be surprised.”
She paused like a cat relishing playing with a mouse.
“And Donovan, my goodness. I thought he knew better than to play with the help.”
I’d had enough, but it wasn't for the reasons that Jordan thought. I spun on my heel and dashed back to the kitchen, and all the way back, I wasn't thinking of Jordan at all. Instead, I thought of Donovan and the feelings I had for him. I wasn't the things that Jordan implied I was... but then I realized that for all rights and purposes, I was. I was the girl who worked the restaurant rush. I was something that Donovan was playing with, no matter how kind he was being about it. It was true, and Jordan was just the straw that broke the camel's back. This needed to end.
“Gwen, what the hell... Are you all right?”
Something about the desperate look on my face told Gus not to argue when I hurried for the lockers.
“I'm done, I need to be gone,” I said.
“Gone? As in—Are you quitting?” he asked in disbelief.
“Yes... no...” I shook my head, knowing that such a wishy-washy response was not going to do me any favors. “I just need to be gone. Just... Gone.”
I stayed in the locker room until I had stopped shaking, and I suppose I must have looked terrible because no one bothered me. Instead, they let me sit for an hour or more, and then finally, I was able to change into street clothes and pack my bag to leave. I crossed the atrium on my way out, and with a panicked pang, I saw Donovan and Jordan talking and laughing at the entrance. Donovan had some papers in his hand, but he looked down at Jordan with amusement and affection. Jordan looked positively coquettish as she tilted her face up towards him, and as I watched she touched the buttons on his shirt lightly with her fingertips.
That's what Donovan's real match looks like, whispered a small voice in my mind. That's what he needs.
I swallowed hard trying to keep myself from falling to pieces, and then I was gone. Just gone.
CHAPTER TEN
Donovan
Gwen had turned her phone off that afternoon. She never did that, and it bewildered me. When I called the restaurant, they told me with some asperity that she had left far earlier than she should have. I felt a strange prickle up the back of my neck, but refused to pay it any attention. Of course Gwen was fine. I refused to believe she could be anything else.
Then she didn’t show up for our dinner date that evening and an unnerving, unfamiliar fear ran down my spine. I called her again, but her phone was off, and in desperation, I tracked down her address online and drove over to her place, thinking about all of the reasonable things I wanted to say, however angry and worried she had made me.
Then when she opened the door, red-eyed and dressed in plain shorts and a baggy T-shirt, I forgot all of them.
“I don't care to be stood up,” I said, staring down at her, but she only shook her head dully.
“I can't do this any more,” she said softly. “I'm sorry. I can't. I'm not what you want me to be, and I'm definitely not what people think I am.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded. I reached forward to touch her, but she drew away. I felt a hot pang go through me, and I bit down on it hard.
“I'm saying that it's over, I think,” she said in a small voice. “I can't keep doing this. This is... you're right. It's not romance. It's something else and I can't do it.”
“You agreed to this,” I said, my voice thudding like a hammer. “We've been doing it for nearly a month now...”
“And now it's over,” she said with a tired shrug. “It's time I get back to my life and you get back to yours, to the hotel, to Jordan. You said you would never force me, and so now that I want out... you have to respect that. You … don’t get to chase me either, Donovan.”
Hearing my words thrown back in my face, however gently, was like a bucket of ice water.
For a moment, I wanted to snarl at her. To hell with that. No one told me what I had to respect, what I had to bow to. Not when I wanted Gwen like fire, not when something in me cried for her as the one source of pure goodness and truth and beauty in my world.
“Gwen...�
�
“No...” she said, her voice cracking. “I can't do this. I won't do this. You said this wasn't romance or a proper relationship. So it’s not a breakup. It’s just an end, Donovan. You need to leave.”
I opened my mouth to argue with her again, but then she looked up at me, wide eyed and desperate. That was when I knew that I could never do anything that would bring her pain. There was so much pain in her gaze that it broke my heart.
“Sweetheart...”
“This isn't...” her voice cracked and her eyes, already so red from crying, gleamed once again with unshed tears. “This isn't something where you can give me orders,” she said softly. “This is... real life. We had some kind of wonderful fantasy, but it's over now. I'm done. I have to be.”
What else was there for me to say? I stood back. I reached for her, wanting to touch her face one last time, but I stopped myself. She watched me with those beautiful eyes, and I wondered if she was afraid I could talk her into coming back with me. I cleared my throat, my voice gone unexpectedly rusty.
“Goodbye, Gwen.”
I walked down the long musty hallway of her apartment, listening for the click of the door as she closed it after me. It never came, and instead I could feel her gaze on my back until I turned the corner.
In a haze, I drove back to the hotel and found myself in the penthouse because where the hell else was I going to go? The place was exactly the same as it had been a few hours ago, when I had been blithely expecting Gwen to return, but as the sun set, giving the room long and searching shadows, it took on a haunted quality.
I was being ridiculous and I knew it. I stalked to the bar where I poured myself two fingers of whiskey into a cut-glass tumbler. The strong smoky burn returned me to myself, but maybe that was the moment where I realized I didn't really like that self all that much.
There was a small mirror set behind the bar, and when I glanced at myself in it, I felt a wave of anger and disgust well up in me. I pitched the glass at the mirror with all my strength. The shattering sound was felt not good, but right. It felt so good that I reached for another glass and after throwing down another few fingers of whiskey, I did it again.
Hacked For Love & The Dom's Songbird Page 13