It was obvious Mackenzie Rogers had spoken to Matt’s parents. The reporter mentioned their tireless efforts to find Matt after his camp had been attacked, travelling to Somalia in the first month of his disappearance, visiting hospitals, talking to anyone they could who would listen.
The article mentioned Caitlin often. Matt’s parents had told Mackenzie of her devastation at the initial news, her joy at the first false lead, her grief at every false lead that came after. They spoke of Caitlin’s immediate desire to travel to Somalia with them and their heartfelt pleas for her to stay in Australia where it was safe.
Guilt and grief rushed through her. Her eyes stung, fresh tears blurring her vision.
She blinked. Swallowed.
The next part of the article focused on Matt’s work up until his disappearance, the Australian Government’s efforts to find him and the horrific discovery of a body two weeks ago at a known militant dumping ground wearing Matt’s ID badge, along with his monogrammed medical bag Caitlin had given him as a farewell gift. Mackenzie did not hold back on describing the inhuman site, nor the grief experienced by Matt’s Doctors Without Borders co-worker who attempted to identify Matt based on the personal items found with the decomposing body.
Mackenzie mentioned the official confirmation from the government had not been made despite the premature press-release, made a subtle reproach to the unnamed person responsible for such an unprofessional mistake and expressed a strong wish that the outcome of the official confirmation—when it came—not be what clearly seemed inevitable.
The article finished with the details of Josh’s unplugged performance at the Chaos Room on Saturday, reiterated that all profits were going to Doctors Without Borders and provided contact information on the medical organization.
Caitlin read the whole thing twice. Studied the image of Matt, his open smile, his sandy hair, his eyes…then she closed the paper, placed in on her desk, folded her arms across it and lay her cheek on her forearms.
She stayed that way for a long time. When Zach came in to tell her the club was cleaned and ready to be shut up for the night, she raised her head, nodded and said goodbye.
Her second-in-charge hovered at the door for a moment. “You okay?”
She nodded again. “Yeah.”
He gave her a small smile. “’Cause if you’re not, I can send Josh Blackthorne in.”
Unfathomable warmth flooded the hollow space in Caitlin’s chest, radiating throughout her body, her soul. Her heart quickened. She straightened a little. “He’s here?”
Zach chuckled. “Been here since nine. He just spent the last five hours working behind the bar.”
“He what?”
“Yep. Said he was waiting for you to finish work so he could walk you home.”
“But I drove tonight.”
Zach cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s the point, do you?”
Looking down at the folded newspaper on her desk, she smoothed her hand over its surface. She thought of everything Josh had done for her since she’d returned from Canberra. Thought of every moment he’d shared with her. Every smile and every laugh. Every breath of pleasure.
Thought of what he meant to her.
What she felt for him.
Love.
On every level. In every way.
She’d loved Matt, and she always would, but they had been finished before he’d left for Somalia. They’d had their time and their time was over.
She’d loved him, but what she felt for Josh was beyond the capabilities of a simple noun to define. What she felt for him and how he made her feel…
He hadn’t just taken away her loneliness, he’d given her life. And a reason to live it.
“Want me to tell him to come in?”
Raising her head, she gave Zach a wide smile, pure happiness flowing through her. “Yeah, I do.”
Chapter Fourteen
For the second time since meeting Caitlin Reynolds, Josh stood at her closed office door, trying to discern what music she was listening to on the other side.
He could hear a faint thump of a bass, but the sound-proofing of the door and walls made it impossible to make out what piece of music that rhythm belonged to.
Something epic. Something powerful.
Bach? Beethoven? That’s who she’d been listening to the last time he’d come to her office. Or maybe it was one of the other classical power pieces? His old professor at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music would know…and probably be disappointed he didn’t. The old guy had told him often he had an ear for—
The door swung open and, like he had when he’d stood in the exact same spot a lifetime ago, he staggered back in startled shock. “Bloody hell, woman.” He gave her a mock glare, the rapid beat of his heart having little to do with being surprised and more to do with the way he felt when looking at her. “Don’t do that.”
Lips curling in a slow grin, she cocked an eyebrow. “Open the door and let you into my life, you mean?”
The words sent a wave of tight delight through him. “That,” he said, reaching for her hand to tug her to him, “you can do every damn day.”
He lowered his head to hers and brushed her lips with a soft kiss. And then straightened. “Hey.” He grinned. “I know this song.”
The rhythmic throb of Synergy’s second platinum single, “Misplaced”, wafted from her office.
Caitlin’s lips twitched. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve got a bit of a thing for one of the members of the band.”
He pulled a face, his groin filling with blood, his chest tightening. “Have you now?”
She nodded. “Hell, yeah. Have you seen Samuel Gibson? He is—”
With an animalistic growl, he silenced her with a kiss.
Tangling her hands in his hair, she laughed into his mouth, a laugh that turned into a groan as he propelled her backward into her office and kicked the door shut.
“Samuel Gibson,” he muttered with mock irritation against her lips, popping open the button of her fly as he did so. “Seriously? Samuel Gibson?”
Nipping at his lip, she tugged his T-shirt free of his jeans and slipped her hands up over his stomach, his ribs, his back. “Well, y’know…” she murmured, raking her nails down his spine to wriggle her fingers past his waistband until she cupped his arse cheeks. “He’s so brooding and arrogant and—”
He kissed her silent again, this time claiming her tongue with his own as he lowered the zipper of her jeans.
She moaned and laughed at once, moving her hands to his fly to tug it open.
His cock—already erect and impatient for her—sprang free. She wrapped it in a firm grip, dragging her thumb across its tip as she caught his bottom lip with her teeth.
The combination of pleasure and pain flooded him with concentrated lust and, with another growl, he tore away from the kiss, yanked opened her jeans and shoved them down over her hips.
She let out a squeal, fisting a hand in his hair as her cry turned to a laughing moan when he grabbed her butt with a squeezing grip, dropped to his knees and stroked his tongue with fierce intent between her thighs. “Oh, Samuel…” she cooed. “You’re so dominating and brooding and…”
He squeezed her backside harder, glaring up at her even as unadulterated glee bloomed in his soul. God, she made him happy. “I’ll show you dominating, woman.”
He lapped at her sex again through the cotton of her panties, loving the way she squirmed when he lingered on the hood of her clit. Digging his fingers into her bottom, he wriggled the tip of his tongue over the sweet spot, fresh blood pumping to his cock as her gasping laughs became panting moans.
Lifting his head, he stared up at her. “What’s the name of the band member you have a thing for, Reynolds?” he demanded, smoothing his right hand over her hip. He cupped the curve of her sex with his fingers, stroking at her folds through her panties with increasing pressure.
Around them, the carnal sounds of Synergy’s latest album continued to play, his own voice tearing the ai
r, accompanied by the mesmerising music of four guys who’d shaped the rock world since before he was born.
She closed her eyes, pressing her hips forward. “Jaxon Campbell.”
Josh rolled his finger over her cotton-shielded clit. “What’s the name of the band member you have a thing for, Caitlin?” he repeated, inching his other hand up the back of her thigh until he cupped her butt again.
She moaned, biting her lip as she did so. “Noah—”
He grabbed the sides of her panties, yanked them down her legs and ran his tongue over her moist pussy lips.
Her hips bucked forward at his tongue’s caress. “Levi…”
He thrust his tongue between her legs, parting her folds with its tip before licking at her newly exposed clit.
“Oh, Josh.” His name left her on a breath, her fingers scraping through his hair.
Heart wild, cock pulsing, he looked up at her again. “Say it again.”
Opening her eyes, she gazed down at him. “Josh.”
A maelstrom of raw emotions surged through him at the undeniable desire burning in her eyes, at the sound of his name uttered with equal want on her lips.
“Fucking oath,” he murmured, rolling his thumb over her clit.
She shivered, hitching in a shaky breath. “Fucking oath,” she echoed, pressing her hips forward again.
He parted her labia with his thumb, a wave of tight heat flowing through him as her creamy juices wet his flesh. “Dominating and arrogant enough for you?”
Another shiver claimed her. And another as he sank his thumb deeper inside her. She moaned, eyes closing again, her breasts heaving. “Oh…”
Leaning forward, he licked at her clit, swirling his thumb within her walls in slow circles.
“Josh.”
Cock a rigid pole, pulse a rapid beat in his neck, he captured the smooth skin of her inner thigh and sucked.
She clawed at his scalp and cried out his name.
He sucked again, wanting to brand her his, needing to mark her. Needing to hear her pleasure as he did so.
She gave it to him on a ragged groan of his name, scoring hot lines over his head with her nails as she did so.
Christ, it was good. Better than good. Perfect. Giving her pleasure, feeling that pleasure in her touch…
He returned his mouth to her pussy, lapping at her clit with frenzied licks. With each stroke, she whimpered. With each whimper, he teased her clit more. Tormented it. Sucked it.
A shudder wracked through her. A quaking tremble.
He knew she was on the cusp of an orgasm. Knew he could send her over the edge into screaming release.
“Please,” she pleaded, ramming her hips forward. “Please…”
Withdrawing his thumb from inside her, he rose to his feet and captured her lips with a hungry kiss.
She opened her mouth to his tongue, meeting his savage greed with her own. She ground the curve of her sex to his cock, the warmth of her flesh against the underside of his length and the heavy globes of his balls almost undoing him.
He feasted on her lips, palming her breast through her shirt as he mauled her arse with his other hand.
When she dragged her lips from his, offering him her throat in place of her lips as she raked her fingers through his hair, he groaned against her flesh, squeezed her backside and sucked on her skin.
The second mark. This one where the world could see it.
“Oh, Josh.” She ground her pussy to his cock, raked her nails over his shoulders. “I want you inside me. Now.”
The plea lashed at the liquid heat in his core. Released it. He pulled away from her, his breath nothing but choppy pants. He held her stare as he toed off his boots, kicked them aside and lowered his jeans and briefs to the floor.
“Fuck, you’ve got a stunning cock.”
A spasm claimed his dick at her words.
Head spinning, body on fire, he scooped down to the pile of denim at his feet, snatched up his jeans and withdrew his wallet from his back pocket.
He opened it and removed the condom packet he’d placed in there before leaving to come here. He didn’t want to wear it. He wanted to feel Caitlin’s exquisite heat on his flesh. Wanted to experience her slick pleasure coat his engorged erection as he penetrated her.
Wanted to be one with her in the most elemental way there was. Skin to skin, with nothing between them.
Lowering his stare to the packet in his hands, he watched his fingers tear it open. He stiffened to a halt when Caitlin’s fingers touched his. Heart a thumping tattoo in his chest, he raised his head and met her gaze. Died a little at the hope he found in her blue eyes.
“I…” she began. A blush filled her cheeks. “I mean, you don’t have to…”
“I’m totally clean, babe,” he said. Christ, why was it so difficult to swallow? “I promise. I get tested every few months and have never done this with anyone without a condom before, and I haven’t…I haven’t slept with anyone…for fucking ages. Honest.”
She stared at him. Pulled a slow breath. “I trust you. And I’m on the pill. You don’t have to wear one for me if you don’t—”
He dropped the condom.
A beatific smile curled her lips. “I take it you don’t.”
He smoothed his hands over her hips and tugged her to his body. “You take it right,” he whispered.
She chuckled. “I’m quite smart.”
“You’re quite perfect.”
And before she could say another word, he grabbed the hemline of her shirt and yanked it up over her head.
He removed her bra with shaking hands. Kissed her exposed breasts with reverence. Licked her nipples, sucked them. Bit them. He worked his way down to her pussy, feasting on her moist heat as he removed her feet from her jeans. When she was completely naked before him, he took a step back, removed his shirt and destroyed the tiny distance between them again.
The sublime sensation of her bare flesh on his, her erect nipples on his chest, the warmth of her belly against the jutting pole of his cock sent a wave of concentrated pleasure through him. He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, breathing in her scent even as he touched his tongue to her skin.
She shuddered in his arms, her sigh ripe with urgent need.
It was too much. That one soft exhalation of breath was too much.
Without a word, Josh scooped her off the floor, his arms beneath her knees and back, and carried her to her desk.
He placed her on it, capturing her lips with his, kissing her deeply as he cleared its surface behind her with a single swipe of his arm.
She wrapped her thighs around his hips, rolling her sodden sex up and down his length. He gripped her hips, holding her to him as he lost himself in her mouth and heat.
When he couldn’t hold on any longer, when every nerve ending and fibre and molecule in his body thrummed with charged need, he smoothed his hands up her torso and pressed her to the desk with a gentle hand on her right breast.
She went willingly, stretching out on the mahogany surface, thrusting her breasts up at him in an invitation he could not ignore.
He covered her body with his, sucking first on one nipple and then the other, his naked cock nudging at her wet centre.
She whimpered his name. Bunched her fists in his hair and tugged. “Now, Josh,” she begged, pressing her hip upward, the move causing the tip of his erection to part her folds more. “Please…now.”
His mouth went dry. His breath caught in his throat. Steeling himself against the rush of exquisite pleasure about to overwhelm him, he ran his hands down to her hips, wrapped his fingers around them and, holding her gaze, pulled her into his slow thrust.
Her tight, slick muscles enveloped him, an incredible pressure of warmth and silken perfection.
Caitlin’s eyelids fluttered closed. Her pussy contracted around his length. “Oh, Josh.”
Without releasing her hips, he sank completely into her. All the way to the root of his shaft. Embedded inside her.
<
br /> “Jesus,” he moaned, undone by the utter rightness of her most intimate flesh squeezing his. “Fuck, babe, I don’t…”
Know if I can last. The confession whispered through his head, a heartbeat before he withdrew slowly from her until the very rim of his cock’s head stretched her lips wide, and then slammed back into her.
Deeper.
Harder.
Faster.
She gasped. “Again.”
Digging his fingers into her hips, he did it again.
Tight heat sucked at his buried length.
Another gasp, louder. “Again.”
He pulled out to the tip of his cock and then punched forward, pulling her into the thrust.
A raw cry burst from her, husky and ripe. The open lust and pleasure in its note flayed his senses and he pumped into her again.
With every penetration, with every powerful stroke, his rhythm increased. With every thrust, Caitlin’s pussy gripped him tighter, took him deeper.
They moved together, faster, her thighs squeezing his hips, her gasps and moans perfect accompaniment to the sound of Synergy still throbbing on the air.
“Oh God.” Caitlin arched on the desk, grabbing at its edge, her heels pressing at his backside. “Yes, that’s…that’s so good. I’m…I’m going…”
Shards of brilliant heat shot through his spine, his groin, up into his belly, his chest. He ground his teeth, sucked breath after breath in through his nose.
They moved together, faster, harder, until nothing existed except him, her, their ragged breaths, his pounding heart and her whimpers of pleasure.
“Don’t hold back,” he pleaded when she began to writhe, her inner walls sucking at his length, her eyes shut, her whimpers turning to cries. “I want to feel you come. You’re so tight, so beautiful, fuck, I can’t…I’m going to fucking come. I’m going to fucking come. Come with me, babe. Come…with…me.”
He slid his hand between their slapping bodies, over the curve of her sex and rubbed her clit, driving deeper and faster into her.
And when she came, his name bursting from her, he died in the pleasure of her pulsing flesh around his.
When she moaned and pulled herself into his thrust, when her pussy squeezed his length with wild pulses of release, he gave himself over to his own pleasure, threw back his head and let out a silent roar, his seed erupting from him in a spurting flood.
Blackthorne: Heart of Fame, Book 8 Page 18