Make Me, Take Me

by Amanda Usen

  Betsy gaped at her. “You knew? When he offered to buy the bar? When he blackmailed me into going out to dinner with him, you knew?”

  Her mother nodded.

  “Does Kate know he came looking for me?”

  “Kate didn’t get out of bed the day you left for culinary school, so she didn’t see him come in.” Her mom took a swig of beer. “I know she fusses at you, but I think it’s because she misses you.”

  Betsy turned back to her cutting board. She’d been hurt when Kate hadn’t come with them to the airport that morning. Really? She hadn’t gotten out of bed all day? Betsy took a deep breath. “She did say something about me never being around, but I’ve been working my butt off.” It sounded lame. It was lame. Her heart dipped. “Damn it.”

  Her mom patted her arm. “Your baby sister did a hell of a job tending bar while you were gone. You should come in some night. See her in action.” She paused. “Before we close the bar and all.”

  Betsy nodded, thoughts swirling and heart skipping every other beat as she scraped the chopped parsley into a container. What was her mother getting at? “Why are you telling me this now? About Kate…and Quin?”

  “Because you need to loosen up a little, sugar. It’s good to have a plan, but you’d get further faster if you let people help you.” She drained the bottle and set it on the counter. “Have a little faith.”

  Betsy bit back a smartass retort. Faith wasn’t going to make the mortgage payments, and in her experience, letting people help gave them the opportunity to disappoint. It was difficult to believe her mother hadn’t learned the same lesson.

  Betsy stole a sideways glance. Her mother looked as beautiful as ever, but there was gray in her ash-blond hair. The skin around her eyes was smooth but delicate-looking, and it crinkled when she smiled. There were tight shadows in her dark eyes that hadn’t been there before Betsy left for school. Betsy had blamed the bar for her mother’s recent weariness, but now she had to wonder. “Do you like working late nights in the bar?”

  “I love working in the bar.” Her mother’s eyes sparkled, all shadows gone. “But I love you more. Don’t you worry about me.”

  So it was the money worries, not twenty-five years of running a bar that had worn her mother down. Betsy could relate. After ten months of running a restaurant, she’d already noticed the beginnings of frown lines on her forehead and one or two gray hairs. If they closed the bar, how would Betsy weather the years with the weight of the mortgage payments squarely on her shoulders?

  A vision of working alone in the kitchen made her pause. If she closed the bar, Kate might leave, for good this time, not just until her mad wore off. Both are great—just different. “Quin wants to invest in the business.” The words flew from her lips before she knew she was thinking about saying them. “He wants to be partners.”

  Her mother’s pleased smile made her jaw drop.

  “You think that’s a good idea? Of course you do.” Betsy answered her own question. Her mother believed in white knights and happily ever afters.

  “He owns one of the most lucrative hotel chains in the country. We could use an influx of cash.”

  Betsy rolled her eyes and resisted pointing out they’d have more money if her mother hadn’t allowed Betsy to sink them in debt. “But he’s…” She trailed off. Powerful? Driven? Relentless? Those were all plusses when it came to business and had nothing to do with the reason Quin’s offer terrified her. “Dangerous. I said no.”

  “Of course you did.” Her mother’s voice was gentle but definitely mocking.

  “What does that mean?” Before her mom could answer, a knock sounded on the alley door, and every nerve in her body zinged to life. She couldn’t stifle a gasp.

  Her mother chuckled.

  “Never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Whether it was Quin or not, she was finished with this discussion. She didn’t want to hear another word.

  “Hang on, sugar.” Her mother caught her arm and lifted a clean towel to Betsy’s face. “You’re covered in parsley.”

  She held still and let her mother wipe her face. Her touch was delicate, and her dark eyes were warm with affection. Betsy didn’t doubt her mother loved her, but they were just so…different.

  Her mother met her gaze. “I know you aren’t in the habit of coming to me for advice, and I don’t blame you. There were too many times I wasn’t around when you needed me, and you had to figure things out for yourself. You did a good job, sugar. You grew up strong, and I’m proud of you. But I want you to think about why that man came back here. Does he really need another hotel? Or a bar or a candy store? Think about why he might be willing to make an investment.” Her mother untied Betsy’s apron and tugged it over her head. “Find out what he’s made of before you turn him away.”

  Silently, she shook her head. Her mother would never understand why she couldn’t give Quin a chance. Another knock banged, but Betsy lingered, struck by a sudden thought. “You’re Teflon, too, aren’t you?”

  Her mother smiled. “Stainless steel, sugar. No matter what, I stand the test of time.”

  Betsy blinked, surprised, and then nodded. “I can’t argue with that.”

  Another knock made her hurry to the door. She opened it.

  It was a few steps down into the alley, so they stood eye-to-eye for a hot, breathless second before Quin swept her off her feet and into a hard kiss. She closed her eyes and threaded her fingers through his thick hair, welcoming the rough bite of the brick wall against her back. No more talking. No more thinking. Just heat and the weakness that poured through her every time they touched. Quin’s strength made her want to give up her own. She already knew what Quinton James was made of, and she shouldn’t be doing this, not when her strength was what she needed the most.

  “Your place or mine?” he murmured against her lips.

  Wordlessly, she led him to the door across the alley.

  Chapter Ten

  Quin backed her up against the elevator wall and took her mouth. She’d been a constant presence while he’d hurried his managers and staff through the changes they needed to make over the next two weeks. Forcing him to knock on the alley door three times had been cruel, making him wonder if she would open it and tell him she had changed her mind even crueler.

  He had no idea what he would have done if she’d tried to send him away. And when her gaze had met his and he’d seen doubt in her eyes, he’d acted on instinct, just as he was doing now. He lifted her into the air and wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing into her through their clothes.

  He didn’t need words; she didn’t want them. Who needed to talk? Her breasts were at head level, and he had much better things to do with his mouth. He sought her nipple through her shirt, and she moaned.

  He wanted to possess this woman, to show her the command he held over her body, but he also wanted her to trust him. It was easier to remember that fact when they were apart because as soon as he touched her, he wanted to make her explode over and over until she couldn’t put herself back together without him. Even the walk down the hall was too long to wait. His cock was so stiff he was surprised the head hadn’t risen above the level of his pants. It seemed intent on finding its way into her, straight through the fabric if necessary, right here in the elevator. He wondered if she was wet, as ready for him as he was for her. The thought made him pause, but it also gave him an idea. What was the point of owning a nearly empty hotel if he couldn’t do as he wished?

  Balancing her weight against the wall, he pulled the “stop” button.

  “Everything all right in there?” Security answered immediately.

  “All good,” he called back. “I’m just testing elevator operations. I’ll start it back up in ten minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.” The guard sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

  He maneuvered Betsy’s shirt above her bare breasts and tongued her nipple while she squirmed. He loved the needy noises she made when he used his teeth and the way she ground again
st him, crushing his jacket in her fists. He slowly lowered her until her feet touched the floor and stepped back, putting space between them. Fierce joy arced inside him when she clutched his forearms and tried to heave him back to her. He resisted, transferring her grip to one of his hands and lifting them over her head, pressing her wrists against the wall. His other hand cupped her breast and pinched her nipple between his thumb and finger.

  Her eyes glazed, pupils going dark, her irises a ring of pale fire. He leaned down to lick her lips, tracing them with his tongue. “Last night was amazing. I want to make tonight even better. I want to start now, right here.” Could he make her come without touching anything but her breasts? “And then I’m going to take you to our room and get inside your body every way you’ll let me.”

  She whimpered, lifting her hips toward him. With her feet on the floor, he towered over her. He bent his head to her breast and sucked her nipple deep into his mouth, applying suction with his throat while he rubbed his palm over the tip of her other breast. He lifted his head to take a breath. “Let me hear you, darling. I love knowing you enjoy my hands on you, my mouth on your breasts.” She groaned and the sound caressed him. It was tempting to drop his hand between her legs. He knew he could make her come fast and hard that way, but he resisted. This was fun, and he wanted to break down another barrier between them.

  He widened his lips, taking most of her small breast into his mouth. Still sucking, he moved his tongue over the sweet lower curve. She gasped and then exhaled a stuttering groan. He looked up to find her watching him, cheeks flushed and lips parted. He smiled around her breast and then pulled back slightly, switching hands, switching sides, flattening her more firmly against the wall. He nipped her neck and lifted his gaze to her dazed eyes as he whispered, “I love your body and the way you respond to me. I can’t wait to get inside you, but I’m not going to do it now. I’m not going to touch anything but your breasts until you come for me.” Her body tightened against him as comprehension dawned. Her eyes widened. “So if you’re holding back, you should probably stop. The faster you come right now, the faster you’ll come again.” He ducked to take her nipple between his teeth. He bit gently but firmly, and she jerked. “And again and again.” He pinched her other nipple. “There are so many things we can do together.”

  He began a tandem pressure, using his teeth and fingers, pinching and then biting. He licked his fingers and started again. She writhed, pushing toward him, and he used his whole mouth, his tongue, and his teeth on her breast, being careful not to harm her, but not holding back on sensation. Her hips pumped, and he imagined her clit, swollen and seeking pressure.

  He thought about stopping her motion with his hips. She’d probably get off on being frustrated and restrained in that way, but as much as he wanted to make her come, he was too close himself. If she thrusted against him, he’d go off in his pants like a teenager.

  For a second, he considered it.

  But tonight wasn’t about him, it was about her, and any recovery time he needed would be too long. He kept his distance and continued to push her. Her nipples were dark and her chest was flushed. A fast pulse beat in the hollow of her throat. He moved her shirt higher and traced circles around her breasts, avoiding her nipples now. She moaned a protest. “You want me to touch your nipples?”

  Her nod was desperate and it made him smile. “Okay.”

  He stroked a feather-light caress across the tip of one breast and then the other. She shuddered and made a frustrated sound. Her jaw clenched, and her lips pressed into a thin line, but he bet her pussy was clenched just as tight. He was counting on it.

  He kicked her feet together and stretched her arms as high as they could reach. “Ask for it.”

  “Please,” she whispered.

  He touched her again, a little harder. “Like you mean it.”

  “Please,” she said louder, rubbing her thighs together.

  “Keep going.”

  Every time the word broke from her lips, he gave her more. Each time he pinched her nipple, she made a choked sound of pleasure that kept him right on the edge with her until she climaxed, groaning his name and shaking so hard he had to let go of her hands and wrap both arms around her to keep her from falling. When she calmed, he tapped the red button on the control panel.

  The elevator jerked and began moving. Her body was lax and she had a dreamy smile on her face, but he was drawn tight as a strung bow, desperate to shoot straight into her. The brush of his pants on his cock was nearly unbearable. Walking was going to be a challenge.

  The elevator dinged and then the door opened.

  He pressed his keycard into her hand. “Naked. Waiting. Go.”

  …

  Betsy unlocked the door and flipped the latch to keep it open. She shed her clothes on the way to the bed, pulled the covers back, and then collapsed onto her back. He’d scrambled her brain. Her body buzzed, pulsing with need. What had he done to her? She’d just had an orgasm yet she wanted him more now than ever. She heard the door open and shut. The click of the bolt was loud. It made her sensitized body throb. She closed her eyes and waited, listening to his clothes hit the floor.

  The bed dipped under his weight. His fingertip touched her nipple and she flinched. They were deliciously sore and her breasts felt hot all over. By treating her so roughly, he’d assured she would be thinking of him, probably for days, and getting warm and tingly every time.

  She opened her eyes to see him frowning. “Did I hurt you?”

  She cupped her breasts and explored her nipples with her fingers. “I wouldn’t let you hurt me.”

  His somber gaze made her uncomfortable, so she lifted her hand to his chest and traced a path down. Wetness pearled at the tip of his cock, and she spread it over him with her thumb, wrapping her hand around him and squeezing. He was hard and hot as she moved her hand up and down, watching his face.

  His features grew taut as he gazed at her hand. His head fell forward. The perfect waves of his hair gleamed red in the late afternoon sunlight, obscuring his expression. She reached up to brush it aside with her other hand. “Your hair is ridiculous, you know. You must spend a fortune on haircuts to keep it looking so perfectly wild.”

  He groaned, and she moved her hand more slowly. “Do you? Spend a fortune on weekly haircuts?”

  He took a breath and let it out in a deep sigh. “You want to talk about my hair right now? Mean. Just mean.”

  She grinned, releasing him.

  He put her hand back on his cock. “I get my hair cut four times a year but I missed my last appointment. That’s why it’s so long. I have no idea how much it costs.”

  She resumed her slow stroking, enjoying the hard roll of flesh under her palm. “I kind of like imagining you having spa appointments. Getting the works. Massage. Hot stones. A happy ending.”

  A harsh laugh barked from his throat. “I’ve never had a massage in my life. Sorry to ruin your fantasy of me as a pampered playboy.”

  “Well, at least the pampered part. You can’t deny you’re a playboy.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like to get attached.”

  “Why is that?” she asked, suddenly curious. “I told you why I don’t believe in happily ever after. But why don’t you?”

  “Mean, just mean,” he repeated. He peeled her fingers away from him and pressed her hands to the bed on either side of her face.

  “Hey, I was doing something there,” she protested.

  “Not anymore. I had previous plans, remember?” A wicked grin made his eyes gleam gold and then she was in the air, twirling around. She yelped, scrambling for purchase as she fell on top of him. His chuckle puffed hot against her inner thigh a second before he lifted her hips over his face.

  “Feel free to continue.” His voice was muffled as his mouth moved against her. The heat of his tongue pressing into her made her gasp and arch. Arousal slammed to the forefront of her consciousness, making her as desperate for stimulation as she had been in the ele
vator while he tormented her breasts. A rush of liquid bliss poured through her. He groaned, lapping at her core, and she pressed into his mouth, riding the edge of orgasm but not giving in to it.

  Not yet.

  She braced herself against the pleasure and leaned forward to take him in her mouth. The smooth taste of salt shot sparks through her breasts and belly. Swirling her tongue around him made it possible to take more of him. She moved lower, balancing him on her tongue as she inched forward. His strangled groan encouraged her to sink until her lips nearly reached the base of his cock. He got harder, reaching farther down her throat, and she felt him fill. The thought of how close he was to climax drove her to the peak. Focusing on him had made it easier to hold back, but he renewed his assault on her clit. The fluttering, flickering motion was delicious, and she felt herself swell, growing heavier, as if honey poured through her veins. She lifted her head, lost to pleasure as he fastened his mouth over her clit and sucked. Waves of ecstasy whipped through her, and she came, rocking back and forth against his lips.

  Her arms and legs felt like water, and she began to sink. He flipped her onto her stomach. She felt his knee at her core, anchoring her. His mouth brushed her ear. “Did you like driving me crazy?”

  “Yes.” She could barely get air into her lungs.

  “I love making you wild, too.” His hands were smooth and strong, touching every inch of her back and shoulders. If he was seeking knots he was going to be disappointed. That orgasm had left her feeling like taffy, but somehow the long, sweeping strokes of his hands were arousing her again, especially when his hard, warm cock nudged her thigh. She arched her back, lifting her ass toward him. He squeezed her buttock and then slowly traced the curve where it met her leg, moving from one thigh to the other, never dipping between her legs to touch the folds that were swollen and waiting for him.