by Tara Wylde
Erin’s smile takes on a distinctly naughty quality. She reaches for her waist, tugs the knot holding connecting the two ends of the belt loose, and lets the robe slide off her shoulders and fall to the ground. The water bottle falls, forgotten, to the floor, the contents seeping into the carpeting.
Without the slightest bit of hesitation, her pretty eyes meet mine. “I want you.”
“Um…” is the only thing I can think to say as Erin steps out of the massive folds of terry cloth that have enveloped her bare feet and pads across the floor toward me. Her hips sway seductively and her eyes gleam with intent.
My cock is all but weeping with delight. Just thirty seconds ago, I was convinced that I was going to back off. I had every intention of tucking Erin into my bed and letting her get a good night’s sleep, alone, but that plan was falling apart faster than ice on a hot sunny day.
Erin wraps her fingers into my T-shirt, not caring that it’s soaking wet from my workout. She gives it a tug, drawing me to her. The scent of sandalwood floods my senses.
She tips her head back, her big beautiful eyes capturing mine, holding them. “I decided that as good that bath felt, the things you did to my body today felt even better and that I’m a fool to not take advantage.”
I swallow and try to remember how to speak. “Okay.”
“I want to feel your skin against mine,” she says, just in case I didn’t understand what she meant when she said that she wanted me. “I want to feel your cock jump and twitch when you come inside of me.” She releases my shirt but reaches for the front of the sweatpants I’m wearing. She plucks the waistband away and slides her hand inside, her fingertips brushing against the proof of my arousal.
I reach out and place my hand against the wall, using it for support as my knees threaten to buckle.
Erin’s grin grows even wider. “Feels like you’re as happy with my wants as I am.”
Chapter 83
Garret
Erin’s hand moves away from my cock, the loss nearly making me cry until she wraps both of her hands around the waistband of my sweat pants and pushes them all the way down to my ankles.
“You’re wearing too many clothes for my taste,” she says as she takes hold of the bottom of my damp T-shirt and shoves it up and over my head. She steps closer, pressing the full length of her body against mine. “Skin against skin is the best, don’t you agree?”
“The best,” I echo. “But I’m sweaty and gross, I’ll get you dirty.”
Erin laughs softly and lifts her arms, wrapping them around my neck, the move causing her breasts to press more firmly into my chest. “Turns out, I’m washable.”
Chuckling, I crush her mouth against mine, loving how she meets me halfway, her tongue slipping between my lips and boldly touching mine. She stands up on tiptoe, forcing me to spread my legs farther apart, and hold both of us upright as my hand slips between her legs.
Thick moisture coats my fingertips even before I reach her nether lips, indisputable proof that she’s every bit as turned on as I am.
I hold up my hand, showing her the moisture glistening on my hand. “Pretty impressive for someone who found herself perusing the No O website.”
Erin rolls her eyes and fists her hands in my hair, hauling me down for another hot, intense kiss that sends the blood draining from my head to pool in my aching cock. “Less talking,” she mutters against my lips. “More fucking.”
Now that’s an order I can get behind. “Yes, ma’am.”
I wrap my hands around her waist, lifting her up until her long, bare legs wrap around my hips. Her heels dig into my ass, spurring me on as I walk across the room, alternating between raining kisses on her parted lips and looking where I’m going.
Luckily, we don’t have to travel far before I reach the bench I use for bench presses. I sit on it, settling Erin so she straddles my lap, her delectable ass nestled on my thighs, her pussy tantalizingly close, but not quite touching my cock, which is all but weeping for her. Her own answering moisture dribbles down the side of my legs.
Our eyes meet.
“You started this,” I tell her. “It’s up to you to finish it.”
She stiffens in my arms. Confusion darkens her expression. “I don’t know how.”
“You’re a smart girl.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “You’ll figure something out.”
It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but I loosen my grip on her and place my hands on the unyielding bench.
For a moment, she doesn’t move, the boldness she’s displayed since walking into the room completely gone.
Finally, she leans forward and places a butterfly kiss on my collar bone. I close my eyes, loving the sensation of her lips against my skin. “That’s my girl.”
Encouraged by my words, her boldness starts to return. She scoots backwards on my thighs a few inches, not noticing the damp trail she leaves in her wake, and slowly kisses her way down my sternum, making it to the halfway point, when she abruptly changes direction and makes her way to my nipple.
She closes her teeth around the tiny bud, the sharp little bite triggering a white-hot buzz that goes straight to my cock. My hips buck, the unexpected movement nearly sending both of us flying off the bench.
“Sorry,” I hiss between clenched teeth. “Just keep doing that.”
Erin chuckles and turns her attention to my other nipple. My eyes roll backwards and my cock swells to dangerous levels.
Telling Erin to basically have her way with me might not have been my smartest move.
Erin’s breath leaves her body in hot, frantic gasps that blow over my already overheated skin. Her knuckles brush against my navel before she lowers her hand, her thumb lightly brushing back and forth against my scrotum. Beads of sweat drip down the side of my face as my cock jumps and spirts a few drops of pre-cum onto mine and Erin’s laps.
“Erin,” I growl between clenched teeth. “I won’t last much longer.”
She tilts her head back, meeting my eyes. Hers are nearly black with desire. “Spoil sport,” she mutters.
Her hand slides away from my balls, the loss nearly making me sob until she braces both hands on my shoulders and lifts her ass off my lap a few inches. Guessing her intent, I cup her hips, holding her steady as she scoots forward while I roll a condom on my pulsating cock.
The tip of my cock finds her entrance and easily slips within, welcoming the tight warm clasp of her inner walls.
It feels so good I could weep.
Her nails biting into my shoulders, Erin rotates her hips, rolling them in slow figure eights, in a timeless rhythm that my own hips mirror. Keeping one hand locked on her hip, I slide my other between our joined bodies, finding her clit and massaging it, delighting in how the simple touch causes her to moan low in her throat as she continues riding me.
Her little moans of pleasure tell me she’s inches from climaxing. Determined to put her pleasure before mine, I alter my grip slightly and am instantly rewarded when her body clamps down on mine and she bellows with delight, the sound echoing in my ears as my hips make one last rotation and I lose control and empty myself into her.
Spent, we slide off the weight bench and lie on the floor, our arms and legs tangled together, our bodies still joined in the most intimate manner possible, while we wait for our heartrates to return to normal.
Chapter 84
Erin
Harlan bolts to his feet and growls low in his throat just as the door to Garret’s apartment swings open. He rushes toward it, getting there just as a pretty woman with long dark hair and dressed in jeans and green sweatshirt crosses the threshold.
She yelps and jumps backwards into the hallway as I toss the book I’m reading to the side and launch to my feet.
“Hang on a minute,” I cry out.
I wrap my fingers around Harlan’s thick leather collar. “It’s okay. He’s under control.”
Harlan lifts his head and gives me a dark look, as if he understood my words and
is offended that I’d even suggest he was out of control.
The woman pops her head around the corner and looks at my dog.
A wry grin lifts the corners of her mouth. She places a hand over her chest. “The last thing I expected was a dog racing across the room to see me.” Her eyes meet mine. “Is he yours or did Garret finally break down and adopt a dog like he’s constantly talking about?”
“He’s mine.” I shift my weight from one foot to the another and wonder just who this woman is. I jerk my head towards the far side of the apartment. “I’m afraid Garret’s in the shower right now.”
“That’s fine.” The woman nudges the apartment door shut and sizes me up. “I wasn’t expecting anyone but Garret here. Just who are you?”
Someone’s who’s going to be extremely angry if I’m about to find out that I’m not Garret’s only lover.
I release my hold on the collar and extend a hand toward the woman. “I’m Erin Burkley and this ferocious beast is Harlan.”
“Hannah Peterson.” Hannah shakes my hand. Her grip is strong and confident. “I’m Garret’s housecleaner.”
A massive weight slides off my shoulders. She’s his housecleaner, not another lover. Garret’s still the nice, stand up guy I believe him to be.
Harlan, bored with the conversation, turns and pads back towards the bedroom. Hannah watches him go. “What does old Sammy think about having a dog around the place?”
“He seems to spend most of his time pretending Harlan doesn’t exist, but Garret swears that Sammy likes the extra company.”
Hannah bends down and opens the cupboard under the sink. She shoots me a sly look over her shoulder. “Something tells me that Sammy isn’t the only one who’s happy having extra company around the place.”
My heart picks up its pace. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve known Garret for a long time and up until the past few days, I’ve rarely seen him smile, but the last few times I’ve been here, that’s all he’s done. And he’s had this stupid, moony look about him. I’m betting you’re responsible for all of that.”
“Really?” A warm sensation unfurls in my belly, and I glance toward the bathroom. “Garret seems like he’s always cheerful.”
Hannah snorts. “He’s a good guy, but he’s also lonely.” She glances around the apartment. “Who wouldn’t be with all this space and no one but a bad-tempered cat to share it with? If you help him feel less alone, than you’ve just become one of my new favorite people.”
The bathroom door swings open, releasing a giant ball of steam into the apartment. A second later, Garret, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a tattered blue T-shirt, his wet hair sticking to his skull, appears.
He grins, first at me, then at Hannah, and closes the distance between us in a few short strides. He slings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me tightly against his side. “Hey, Hannah. Eli with you?”
For the first time since she entered the apartment, Hannah’s face darkens. “No. Eli’s at the tutors.”
“How’s that going?” Garret asks.
Hannah shakes her head and turns to fill a bucket with warm water. “I don’t know what’s going on with that kid, but I have a bad feeling. First, he gets himself kicked out of school, and yesterday, he kept muttering something about the police. I hope he hasn’t done anything to get himself into real trouble.”
Garret reaches out and lays a hand on her shoulder. “Hannah, he’s a good kid. He’s just going through some stuff.”
Hannah blows out a huge sigh. “I know that. I really do. I just hope that he gets over it before he lands himself in more trouble than he can ever hope to get out of.”
“You need to stop worrying so much,” Garret tells her. “Erin and I are going out to see a movie. Want to come with us?”
Hannah laughs and shakes her head. “Sorry, three’s a crowd.”
“Okay, but if you change your mind, feel free to swing by. We’re just going to that little place a few blocks from here. They’re showing a bunch of Hitchcock films.” Garret removes his arm from my shoulders and laces his fingers through mine. “I’m happy to pick up the tab.”
“That’s sweet of you to offer, but I think the best way to burn through my irritation with my son is by working. Plus, I’ll be able to get more done while you’re not here.” She lifts the bucket of steaming water out of the sink. “Oh, before I forget.” She reaches around behind her and tugs an envelope out of her back pocket. She hands it to Garret. “I ran into a guy out in front of the building. He asked me if I knew you and when I said I did, he asked that I pass this on to you.”
“Thanks.”
Garret waits until we’re in the elevator before using his fingertip to slit the envelope open. He withdraws a single sheet of paper and frowns at it.
“What is it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I lean closer and read the large letters that are printed in a heavy hand across the paper.
You’re going to be sorry
Chills race up and down the length of my spine. “Sorry about what?”
Garret balls up the letter and the envelope and shoves them into his jeans pocket. “Not a clue. Probably someone pissed off about a business deal I’m involved with.”
He cups a hand around my hip and tugs me closer. “I can think of other things I’d rather be doing than worrying about some idiot who likes to pass secret notes.” He lowers his head and covers my mouth in a deep kiss that sends the blood rushing to some interesting places.
“I like the way you think,” I murmur against his lips. Yet, even as we deepen the kiss, I can’t stop thinking that the note might not be as harmless as Garret wants to believe.
Chapter 85
Erin
“Okay.” Tracy storms into my office during her mid-morning break. “Spill.”
I don’t take my eyes off my computer monitor. “Hang on one second.”
Tracy throws herself down into the chair on the opposite side of my desk. She watches as I carefully calculate the results collected from a focus group study and add them into a report for a local club who hired us to do some pre-debut promotional work. I click save and double check to make sure everything is right before I turn my attention to my best friend.
“What do you need?”
“I want to know what happened to you this weekend,” Tracy demands. “And I want all the details. Don’t even think about leaving anything out.”
“What are you talking about?”
Tracy rolls her eyes and points at my face. “Don’t play dumb with me. You’re glowing. That means two things. Either you fell in love or you’re pregnant.”
“How about none of the above,” I mutter even as my face flames bright red.
“I don’t buy that,” Tracy says. “Tell me what happened. Now.”
“Remember the other day when I got that weird text from someone who promised they could help with my … problem?”
Tracy nods. “Yeah. The one we got right after the Many Miles Auto Parts teleconference.”
“It wasn’t.” I twist my fingers together and can’t contain my smile. “It was a guy in my apartment building.”
I quickly fill Tracy in on everything that happened over the weekend, starting with my disastrous date with Dan the doctor and ending with how yesterday, Garret and I spent the entire day in bed, getting up only when Harlan needed to be taken out or we needed something to eat.
“Are you going to see him tonight?” Tracy is practically bouncing up and down in her chair.
I blush. “Yeah. I think so, but we don’t have any formal plans or anything.”
Tracy squeals and leaps up from her seat. She runs around the end of my desk and throws her arms around me.
“I’m so happy for you, Erin.” She squeezes me tighter. “Your first grown-up relationship.” She winks, taking any sting from the words. “And it’s about damn time.”
“I don’t know about first, but it’s lasted three days,
and for two of those we were together the entire time, so it’s certainly outlasted all of my other relationships. By lightyears.”
“When do I get to meet this sex god that can practically make you come with just a glance?” Tracy settles a hip on the corner of my desk. “Or do you plan on keeping him all to yourself?”
“I don’t know.” I pick up a pen and twirl it between my fingers. Garret and I were so busy learning everything we could about one another’s bodies that we didn’t talk about whether or not we were keeping our relationship secret or not. “I get the impression he’s not a very social person.”
Tracy’s brows shoot up and her mouth thins. “Do you mean like he’s anti-social?”
“No, nothing like that. He has friends and social skills. He’s just the kind of guy who prefers doing things by himself.”
“Good.” Tracy’s expression relaxes. “Because anti-social isn’t cool. Serial killers are normally antisocial. I’d hate for you to end up chopped into little tiny pieces and stuffed into a garbage can.”
“Yeah,” I say dryly, “I’d like to avoid that scenario.”
“Oh, yeah.” Tracy’s posture straightens. “Speaking of serial killers.”
“A statement that never ends in anything good,” I mutter.
Tracy ignores me. “I ran into your stalker.”
“Dillion?” That is a surprise.
“The one and only,” Tracy confirms. Her brow furrows. “It must have Saturday morning. Yeah, I was getting groceries. He cornered me when I was trying to decide between a healthy cereal or one that’s covered in chocolate. He told me he had a new and exciting job.”
“You’re kidding.” I can’t help laughing. “He’s an accountant that specializes in taxes. How exciting a job can he possibly get?”
“Beats me, but he was pretty proud of it. I suppose when you spend your whole day crunching numbers and looking for tiny deductions, the threshold for excitement is pretty low. And this is the same guy that has spent more than a year chasing you around, and you only went out, what twice.”