by Jen Doyle
Right again. Majorly hot, Cajun, and recently making headlines for brawling on and off the field.
“All yours.” And he was gone.
Under normal circumstances, it would have pissed Fitz off. But then she looked up and saw Deke glaring as he came closer.
She took a step back.
It was absolutely useless. He reached out and grabbed her hand; turned around and yanked her toward him. She had no choice but to scurry after him.
“What...? Where...?” She finally dug her heels in and pulled out of his grasp. “What are you doing?”
Of course she wished she hadn’t when he turned around and came back to her, crowding her in. “What do you think?” he replied, his voice low and yet somehow ringing out clearly over the music.
Okay, yes, he’d pretty much spent the entire night sitting and sulking, but it wasn’t her fault he’d chosen that over getting out on the dance floor himself. She was sure it wasn’t because of a lack of willing partners. And, honestly, if Nate could keep his act together when his actual fiancée was dancing, then Deke had no business having any attitude whatsoever.
But he took her hand again, turned away and pulled her with him as he stalked out of the club. Which was all fine and good until she realized that, while he still had one hand clamped around hers in a death grip, he was raising another to call a cab. Bewildered, she asked, “Where are you going?”
This time when Fitz planted her heels in the ground, she made it stick. And she pulled her hand out of his as she turned back to the doors of the club. Only to be swung back around and right up against Deke when he grabbed her hand again and pulled her back. “Away from here,” he muttered.
Oh, no he didn’t. Shoving his chest, Fitz had no problem getting up in his business, even if it meant she had to get on tippy toes to do it. “You can go wherever you want. I am staying right here.” She loved him—loved all of them—but, damn it, she was having a good time. An amazing time. And the only reason she wasn’t in a murderous mood right now was because she’d had just enough alcohol to take the edge off of wanting to kill him. Since she was sobering up quickly, however, his odds weren’t looking good.
Deke didn’t have the decency to even fight with her about it. When a cab pulled up to the curb, he picked her up by the waist and put her inside. Sliding in after her, he snapped, “Just drive,” to the driver. Then he sat back in the seat and looked out the window.
Her mouth dropped open so wide she couldn’t even sputter a word.
Had he actually just removed her from the club? As if she were a kid he was babysitting rather than a thirty-two-year-old woman who could do whatever she damn well pleased? They were already well on their way when she finally got hold of herself enough to punch him full out, hand-hurt-like-the-devil-but-it-was-worth-it in the arm. “You did not just do that!” Then she leaned forward toward the cab driver and, in the exact same tone, screeched, “Turn around!”
Glaring first at her then the cabbie, Deke was seething. “Do not take us back.”
The cabbie, a man of no words, pulled the taxi over to the side of the street and got out. Then he turned his back to them, leaned against the door, and took out a cigarette.
Was he freaking kidding? She turned to Deke. “You’re kidnapping me right now and he leaves me in the back with you?” About to take her not-insubstantial anger out on someone she’d never have to see again, Fitz reached over to open the door, stopping when she felt Deke’s hand on her shoulder.
“Anywhere but the club,” he said. “Please.”
Fitz turned to him, surprised at the desperation in his eyes. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen. It sliced through her as if it were a knife through her skin. She stared at him for a minute, closing her eyes briefly only when his hand fell away. Sitting back against the seat again, she knocked on the window. “The Intercontinental,” she said when the man got back in.
With the slightest of nods, he pulled back into traffic.
Not to say she wasn’t still furious, even more so when they got to the hotel and she realized her clutch, including her phone and key card, was back at the club. Since she now couldn’t get to the floor her suite was on, she jabbed the button for Deke’s room instead, glaring at him. Just as he opened his mouth to no doubt argue with her, his phone rang. Nate’s ringtone. Nate, by the way, who she blamed equally.
With a hiss of breath she crossed her arms against her chest and stared straight ahead.
“At the hotel,” Deke was saying. “Yeah. We just realized she left it. Sounds good.”
The elevator doors opened as he ended the call. Fitz stormed out into the hallway before realizing she didn’t actually know Deke’s room number.
It should have been a sign that he wasn’t gloating in any way, but it wasn’t. Or maybe when he stalked off without even looking in her direction. But, no, she didn’t catch on to that, either. So instead, without any regard to the consequences, the second they got in his room she got up in his face once again and shouted, “What is your freaking problem?” She even reached out to give him a little push—okay, yes, maybe an actual shove—just so he knew exactly how pissed she was.
Except he turned toward her right then and caught her wrist in his hand. The air that had merely been crackling turned into a full-fledged electrical storm, lightning bolts and all. He took a step toward her. Crash! She took a step back. Bam! Her entire body flushed as the bolts came down around her, and she was pretty sure her hair was standing on end.
Her knees may have even actually buckled when he leaned down. “You, Fitz. You are my problem.”
“I...” Er... “What?”
It wasn’t that she hadn’t heard him, of course. It was just that she was a bit dazed at the moment, what with him bringing her wrist up to his mouth and running his lips over the sensitive skin.
And then he was walking her backward to the wall until she came up flush against it as he came up flush against her, as big and solid as she remembered him to be. His forehead dropped down to touch hers. With her heart pounding as loudly as it was, she barely heard his muttered, “I can’t. I’m sorry,” before he started to turn to the door.
She reached out for his hand and stopped him. “Can’t what?” she whispered, pulling him back.
He went still. With the exception of where she was touching him, he was obviously working at keeping the rest of him at bay. His eyes traveled down her body and then back up. “Can’t be near you.” Then he closed his eyes as he leaned in closer, his lips just barely grazing her cheek as he took a deep breath. “Can’t keep watching you.”
Maybe she was still a little tipsy; she clearly wasn’t in her right mind. Because even though she should be in complete support of his leaving this room, the word that came out of her mouth was, “Stay.”
His eyes flew open. “What?”
She brought his hand up to her hair, letting go and leaving it there so her own hands were free to run up and down his chest. “Please stay.”
She didn’t have to say it again. She was suddenly being lifted up. He wrapped her legs around his waist and bent down to kiss her neck while pushing against her and sending her eyes rolling back into her head. Groaning, he let his head fall against hers. “How drunk are you?”
Um... “What?” She was supposed to speak? She opened her eyes to see him staring at her and her heart came to a thudding stop. She turned her head away, both comforted and terrified by the awareness in his gaze. As her friend it was fine. But as her lover...it was too much. She couldn’t get that close. Especially not to a man who knew her well enough to get himself inside the deepening cracks in all those supposedly fortified walls.
Yet she found herself entirely soberly saying, “Not nearly enough.”
He closed his eyes. “Thank fuck.”
His mouth came down on hers, crushing in its int
ensity. One of his hands tunneled through her hair while the other curved down past the small of her back and he pulled her up against him, her breasts to his chest, her hips lined up with his and all the good parts in between. With a whimper, she grabbed at his belt. She wanted his shirt off, too. About to come apart just from the feel of his tongue against hers, she was nearly delirious with the thought of holding him in her hands. Of having him move inside her again.
He smiled against her lips in agreement, although he seemed a little more focused on her upper body. He’d gotten her down to her camisole without her fully registering it and was now pulling away from her enough to look down between them. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and was down to bare skin. Which was...
Yep. Un-freaking-believably amazing. She ran her hands down his chest, loving the feel of the light dusting of hair over the taut, firm skin. But leaning forward to nuzzle at his neck, meant rocking against that overwhelming heat, reminding her she really just wanted that one thing.
Right now.
She’d already gotten the belt undone and would have been fine with the button and zipper of his pants, except she was distracted by the hard length underneath them and what it did to Deke every time she touched it. Which she proceeded to do, enthusiastically, running her hands up and down, loving the way it twitched and pulsed and how his breath became rapid and shallow. She practically giggled with delight.
“Tease,” Deke said as his hands went to either side of her head. There was a smile, too, albeit a wicked one. Shifting so he had her pinned against the wall, he took her hands, bringing them together and raising them over her head, and held her in place while he took care of his button and zipper. Then took care of hers.
Before she could even catch her breath, his hand slipped down beneath the waistband of her panties. But just as he’d done the first time they’d been together, he paused. “You’re sure?”
“Are you going to ask me that every time?” she asked, wanting him inside her so badly she was about to come out of her own skin.
His eyes went dark. “Are there going to be more times?”
She didn’t have an answer to that. She couldn’t think that far ahead. All she could manage right now was, “Just fuck me, Deke,” she said as she pulled his head down. “We’ll talk after that.”
Thankfully, that seemed to be enough for now. His hand lingered at her clit just enough to set off several shockwaves before going down farther and slipping inside, the heel of his hand firm against her. A tremor tore through her, this one forcing a long, low moan as her head fell back against the wall.
“You like that?” he said into her neck while adding another finger to the one already inside.
Beyond a more drawn out moan than the first one and a shifting of her hips, she was incapable of any response other than another whimper.
“Oh, yeah, you do,” he whispered as he worked his magic.
Shimmering waves radiated through her, and since he just laughed a little as she tried to free her hands, she arched her back, trying to get closer to him that way instead. Oh, God. “Deke...” She pressed her hips forward again.
“I know, baby,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
Except then he let go of her wrists and his hand was gone from below and he stepped back.
“No,” Fitz whined, heart pounding as her hands slapped down flat against the wall in order to hold herself up. She was panting now, her breath coming in short little bursts as she watched him grab his wallet out of his pocket and take out a condom. Holding the packet between his teeth, he dropped the wallet to the floor and dropped down to his knees in front of her.
She had that moment of thinking, Hell, no. Not with Deke. “You don’t have to...”
But the words trailed off as he looked up at her with that wicked smile on his face. He pulled her pants and panties down to her thighs, and then, eyes not leaving hers, leaned forward and licked right up through her folds. She tensed. No one had ever done that to her before. No one had ever made her feel like this before.
Then he licked again, and again, and then one more time and all coherent thought ceased. Her head thunked back against the wall. “Oh, God,” she gasped. His hands went to the back of her thighs and he pulled her toward him, his tongue delving inside at the same time. Sensation rocked through her and she was trembling, then shaking, and then everything went black and then white and she cried out, maybe screamed, something that may have been his name.
Before she was able to catch her breath, he was standing up, lifting her by the hips, and then bringing her back down, impaling her with a groan and a shudder of his own. “Jesus, Angel. You are so fucking tight.”
But she couldn’t utter a word because she was back to panting and trembling and pretty much out of her skull with the need to feel that again. “Don’t stop. Oh, God, please...” She was arching her back, rocking forward against his hips, doing everything she could to have him stroke up against that one perfect spot as he thrust into her, a little deeper each time. Her hands on his shoulders, she clutched at his skin. “Please don’t stop.”
She cupped the back of his neck and pulled his head forward so that his forehead was resting on hers. Then she crushed her mouth to his and may have even growled as she ran her hands down his back before cupping his ass and pulling him closer. With a groan, he took the kiss she gave him, then gripped her chin, holding her firmly in place as he took control back and amped up the intensity. His mouth dropped down to her neck as his hand went to her breast.
He nipped at her neck as he thrust into her, obliterating everything else that existed in the universe and replacing it with blinding, frantic need. Desperate for his kiss, she pulled his head back up to hers and sought out his lips. Tears started falling as he took her up and over the edge again, her entire body turning into a quivering mass of sheer bliss.
And then he was seeking out her mouth again, his lips on hers as he thrust into her one, two, three times, before letting his head fall against her shoulder and groaning her name.
They stayed like that, with him still inside her, as their breathing steadied. Honestly? She was one hundred percent sure she’d be okay if they never moved. But he finally looked up at her and tenderly brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe I just took you against the wall of a hotel room.” Clearly troubled by that fact, he shook his head and looked away.
She couldn’t either, truth be told. And it was probably the worst idea in the world. But that didn’t stop her from putting her hand on his cheek and bringing him back to her so she could look into his eyes when she told him, “Well, get over it fast, because we’re doing it again.”
Chapter Eighteen
They didn’t do it again. Not against the wall, at least. The second time he took her, it was in the bed, and he happily worshipped every inch of her. He also paid her back for the torture she’d put him through earlier that night, driving her right up to the brink more than once without letting her actually come. He might have done it a few more times if not for her threatening his life if he didn’t...
Well, he was pretty sure her exact words were, “Freaking fuck me!” Except she didn’t actually wait for him to respond before she flipped him over and rode him like she was taking the top prize at the goddamn rodeo. His encounters weren’t usually quite that intense. And what intensity there was, was usually supplied by him.
It was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced in his life.
So the third time, he went so hard and deep that he was pretty sure he’d be feeling it for weeks. He had no doubt she would.
There hadn’t been a fourth time, although, Christ, he would actually have been willing to try if she made even the slightest move towards it. For now they’d settled on a bath instead. His room wasn’t nearly as nice as the suite she had upstairs next to Nate and Dorie, but the bathtub w
as big enough for two and there were ceiling high windows looking out over the city. Which, honestly, had seemed a little odd, but Fitz just rolled her eyes and said they had to be one-way and if she didn’t have a problem with it, then he had no excuse. Since the view was spectacular, both of the city and Fitz, he figured it wasn’t worth the fight. And now she was sitting with her back to his front and it felt so right it actually scared him a little.
Her hands running from his knees down to his hips, she leaned back into him. “No wonder you’re happy all the time.”
“Hmm?” he asked. He’d been distracted by her breasts. Again. There were freckles there. He’d never noticed them before.
Laughing, she batted his hands away. Took them into hers and pulled them down to rest against her stomach. Which was also good, because he could inch just a little farther down and—
She sat up abruptly and swatted some bubbles at his face. After laughing even harder, she said, “Money where your mouth is, Deke. If I don’t get to have you inside me, you don’t get to play.”
“You’ve really only been with two other guys?” he asked without thinking. He’d been beyond surprised at her delivery of that news, a declaration between orgasms three and four that she’d now officially come more times with him than she had with all the other guys she’d ever been with combined. Of which there were only two. He also had to admit that for someone who kept so many things so close to the vest, she was remarkably open about sex. Yet another new Fitz fact.
But to her the question apparently meant something else, because now she was frowning. “In no small part thanks to you guys scaring away every guy who even looked my way.”
Well, okay, yeah. Deke could see that. He’d never realized they’d been so effective. Nate would be happy to hear that. Until he found out how Deke had become aware of that tidbit of news.
“None of them were good enough for you. We weren’t about to let some jerk get his hands on you.”