Blind Trust

by Lynda Aicher

  And most importantly, what happened within those rooms didn’t leave them—in any way. Not even through a flicker of recognition.

  Unless your boss slips up and calls you by your scene name.

  She grinned at that, the happiness dancing in her heart. She squeezed his hand, so damn glad he’d made that rare fumble.

  Her smile was still in place, her head a little light from the wine when they departed. Ryan wrapped his arm around her after giving his parking stub to the valet. He nuzzled her ear in a tender gesture that sent goose bumps skittering down her neck.

  “What’s that grin for?” he asked before he kissed her temple.

  She gave him a devious side glance. “I was just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  She turned into him, lowering her voice. “The number of people in that room you failed to warn me about.”

  His confusion appeared honest. “What do you mean?”

  Did he really not understand? “The other men. From the group.”

  There came the awareness. His wince held a touch of apology. “I honestly didn’t think about it.”

  “Really?” How could he not?

  “Really.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, urging her closer. The intimacy flowed between them on the same easy note it’d held all evening. “I didn’t. It’s not a bro club or something anyone uses for ulterior motives.” He gave a small shrug. “There’s no back-slapping or locker-room talk about conquests. That’s...” Repulsion wrinkled his nose. “Cheap. Trevor would never allow it. It’d be demeaning to the entire group.”

  And that right there made it unique to her world. “I find that utterly fascinating.”

  “How come?”

  “Because I’ve never experienced complete acceptance without judgment. Not like that.” Not even with her parents. Her father made overtures, but he’d never openly countered her mother’s backhanded ridicule.

  A gentle understanding broke over his face as he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I believe that’s why everyone guards it so fiercely. From what I understand, that acceptance itself is not unique within the world of the sexually open. But the ultimate trust among those who have a lot to lose? That’s worth protecting.”

  It was. She got it now. And she felt privileged to be a part of it.

  The valet arrived with his car, and he guided her into it before he got into the driver’s seat. The comfort surrounded her as he pulled into traffic. Not from the car itself, but from the man who drove it.

  She reached over to place her hand on his thigh. The need to touch him had woven its way into her until it’d become a necessity instead of simply a desire. Everything about Ryan was becoming a necessity.

  And she had no idea how she was going to protect that—protect him—from the opportunistic claws of her mother. Or how long she could continue to hold her mother off.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The distant click of the outer office door opening raced through the silence to lodge in Ryan’s subconscious. He jerked up from his computer, frowned. A quick glance at the time had him rising from his desk. The office had been empty for hours, and it was too early for the cleaners.

  He was around his desk and halfway to his door when he drew up, stopping. Brie strolled down the hall, hair flowing around her shoulders, a black trench coat wrapped snug around her. She held a plastic bag in one hand, her purse hitched over her shoulder. A smile lifted her face when she spotted him.

  His heart did that weird pang-and-drop thing that should’ve seemed old by now. It wasn’t.

  “Brie?” He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. He’d been staring at the computer for too long. She was at his doorway when he slipped his glasses back on. “What are you doing here?” She’d said goodbye around the same time the rest of the office had emptied.

  She lifted the bag. “I brought you dinner.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Yes. Dinner.” She strolled past him to set the bag on his desk and her purse on the chair. The scent of something fragrant and spicy filled his office.

  He inhaled, smiled. “You brought me chicken pad thai?”

  She turned to shoot him a knowing glance. “It’s your favorite, right?”

  His brows dipped. “How’d you know that?”

  She removed her coat and draped it over the back of the visitor chair before coming back to stand before him. She brought her lips to his in a soft kiss that teased the constant simmering want.

  “I made a logical deduction based on your lack of variation the few times we ordered takeout.” She raised her brows, that teasing mischief dancing.

  “Your observation skills are stunning,” he said dryly, but that warm glow in his chest spread a little further. She’d remembered his order. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

  Her laugh hit his back. He braced for the sly comment or derogatory remark that used to come from his ex. Was this the start of the end with Brie?

  “You usually work until nine, at a minimum,” she said. He hunted for the hidden complaint in her tone but found none. “I made a lucky guess.” Her expression showed nothing when he turned to her. Not until she cocked her head, frowning. “Is something wrong?”

  He studied her for a long moment. Was she hiding her resentment or was he hunting for and creating something that wasn’t there?

  “No.” He dropped into his chair and removed his glasses to rub his eyes again. “I’m just tired,” he admitted. That must be it.

  He blinked a few times and set his glasses on his desk. Brie had moved around to stand beside him. She looked down, the corner of her mouth curled up in a tender expression.

  She motioned with her finger. “Turn around.”

  “Why?”

  She shook her head and walked around behind him instead. “Do you always have to argue?”

  “That was a question, not an argument.” He tried to turn his chair to track her.

  The first touch of her hands on his shoulders stopped him. Then she rubbed, her fingers pinching the muscles that joined his neck to his shoulders.

  His moan rolled out on the shot of relief that blasted through his neck. His head fell forward, shoulders rounding as he gave her more room. “That is...” Another groan rumbled up his chest and petered out in his throat.

  Her soft laugh teased his ear before a kiss landed on the top of his head. It somehow managed to sink through his skull to feather down his nape and tighten in his chest. Damn it. Only with her.

  The silence pulled around them until there was only her touch, rubbing the knots, teasing out the ache and hunting down the tension that lived in his shoulders. He removed his tie and undid the top buttons on his shirt at her urging, then her fingers dipped beneath his collar to heat his skin.

  Every thought went to her firm, exploring touch as his muscles slowly relaxed. Heat spread down his back and across his chest with each new knot she uncovered and released.

  Questions spun through his head. Why was she doing this? What did she really want? He didn’t ask, though. He didn’t want her to stop. Her touch was branded into him now, and he ached for it. At work, at home, in bed.

  Their personal time together had been primarily limited to the weekends due to the hours he worked. But for the first time in his life, he was questioning his dedication to his job. Did he dare to have more of this? Of her?

  She came around his side, her fingers trailing down his neck and jaw. He opened his eyes, resting back as he gazed at her under heavy lids. His blood heated more when he caught the wicked intent simmering in her eyes.

  She nudged his legs apart, and he opened them willingly to allow her to stand between them. Fire smoldered beside the tenderness as she slowly dipped to take his mouth in an equally gentle kiss. He cupped her cheek, but followed each slow glide and swirl of her tongue as it fo
und his and played. His heart started a pronounced beat that drummed out his slow fall into her.

  She eased back, her eyes dark as she sunk to her knees. His breath hitched, his legs spreading wider. His dick went rock-hard when she drew her palms up his thighs to cup the juncture of his legs, her thumbs grazing over his balls.

  He flexed his groin up, mouth going dry. Her eyes were full of intent when she tracked them over his chest to lock on to his. She wet her lips, but there was no calculation in the move. The lust and want telegraphed her plan in case he’d missed the blatant signals.

  He dragged his fingers through her hair, mesmerized. She lifted her chin, following the gentle tug of his hand. He took the kiss he so desperately wanted, thrusting deeply to find the wanton heat only Brie held.

  And like that, he was lost.

  Lost in the wild, crazy free fall of lust and hunger until she cupped his erection, dragging her palm up the length. He ripped his mouth from hers and forced back the rampant wave of longing that one stroke had created. He let it flood his limbs and knot the desire deep in his gut.

  He reached for her breast, cupping the fullness beneath her sweater, but she swept his hand away, urging him to sit back.

  “Let me,” she whispered.

  Her eyes were so soft now. Something screamed from them that he didn’t understand, not fully. How could he when it’d never been focused on him before? Not like this.

  He forced a swallow if only to find some moisture for his parched throat. It didn’t work. Nothing worked when it came to Brie.

  She took over, undoing his belt with a slow precision that taunted him with every brush on his dick. His button was next, zipper right after. But she drew it down slowly, the soft purr another tease that rippled over his abdomen and wrapped around his balls.

  Her lips were parted, a blush darkening her cheeks when she dipped her hand beneath his boxer briefs and grabbed his dick. He gasped, stomach clenching at the shock of heat and pleasure. She drew him out, her hand gliding up and down his length.

  His eyelids dipped, but he refused to let them fall closed. Not when he had such a stunning sight before him.

  She flicked her thumb over the cap, sending off a wave of sensation that shot down his shaft and landed another hit to his desire. Her eyes were full of lust when she glanced up. There was power there too, that awareness of what she was doing to him. He couldn’t deny it either.

  He lifted into her firm strokes, his hands gripping the armrests until his fingers hurt. The first slow drag of her tongue over the crown jolted the want higher. His back turned clammy and the air heavy with every little flick. She dragged the tease out, kissing, licking and stroking him until the hunger ate at his restraint and ripped apart his control.

  “Brie,” he whispered, hips jerking. “Fuck.” His head fell back as his legs spread wider. Every movement was a silent request for her mouth. All of it. Around him. Drawing him in. Sucking.

  Then the wet heat engulfed him, sinking down before she drew back up on a firm pull. His groan was ripped from somewhere near his groin. It blasted into the room with its sharp note of satisfaction. Blood roared in his ears. His pulse went wild. And he couldn’t stop staring.

  The top of his dick disappeared into her mouth with each dip. She fisted the rest of him, her hand following her bobbing motion to complete the effect. She slowed, licked the sensitive head before needling her tongue in his slit.

  Another shot of pure pleasure raced to his groin and spread through his balls. Sparks went off when he squeezed his eyes closed, gasping for air as he fought back the orgasm that was building too quickly.

  He forced his eyes back open, breaths ragged as he cupped her nape. Her hair feathered over the back of his hand to add another sensation to the plethora assaulting him. Longing crested with need to crash with want before it boiled into wonder.

  This is just a blow job. Just a blow job.

  It didn’t matter how many times he tried to repeat those words, they didn’t change the underlying awareness of how far he’d already fallen. He scrambled to stay centered, but it was useless. She pulled him under with her soft moans and purrs of appreciation.

  The vibrations tickled over his dick and spread through that knot of desire cinched just below it. “Brie,” he whispered in warning, tugging lightly on her hair.

  She shook her head, glancing up to glare at him through her lashes. The fierceness in her intent slammed him back and stole his breath. And he wanted it. All of it.

  She dropped down, taking him in. Her tongue worked that amazing spot just below the rim with a dogged determination that ripped away the last of his floundering control.

  He thrust up, a thread of awareness making him hold back just enough to keep from gagging her. His world shattered on a blast of heat and pleasure that spun in a fiery, dizzying circle. He clung to Brie, gasping through his orgasm in choked grunts and clenched muscles until his lungs begged for air.

  And still he stared at her, each of her rapid swallows pulling on him until he’d emptied everything into her. He fell back, sucking in air as his head slowly stopped spinning. He cupped her face, a hand on each side now. He had no idea how his hands had gotten there, but he couldn’t let go.

  She eased off him, a last lick catching his tip in a light flick that bordered on pain. He sucked in a breath, but didn’t move to sit up. She watched him, her eyes large, lips swollen and red.

  He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs and drew her up until he could claim another long kiss. The flavor of his come covered his tongue, and he moaned at the erotic blend.

  Brie kissed him back, her passion smoldering with his until he was falling once again. Only with her. She was the only woman he’d ever lost himself with. He’d stopped questioning how weeks ago. Now the question was how long?

  Would this last? Could it, really?

  She broke the kiss, ending it with a light touch of her lips to his. He let his hands fall away when she hitched his underwear up to tuck him back in.

  A raw chuckle cut up his throat as he nudged her hands away. “I’ve got it.”

  Her smile held that touch of mischief he was truly growing to love. “Are you sure?” She gave him a once-over, her doubt overstated.

  He hauled her in by the neck and crushed another kiss to her lips. Her gasp was cut off by the hard drive of his tongue. She tensed, but that quickly gave way to a languid moan as she relaxed into him.

  He nipped her lip before letting her go. “I’m sure,” he said, daring her to challenge him again.

  She laughed softly as she rose to her feet, but it wasn’t mean-spirited. It didn’t rankle his nerves or make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

  A smile lined his lips as he shook his head. He stood, tucked everything into place and then drew her back into his arms. This kiss was slow and consuming. He poured his thanks into it, the lazy wonder knocking back the doubts once again.

  Did she hear what he was saying? Understanding seemed to flow between them with each touch that skimmed his arm and breath that grazed his cheek.

  He slid his hand up her side in a lazy path to her breast, but she shook her head, backing away. Confusion pulled hard on his brows.

  “It’s okay,” she assured him, moving out of his arms. She gave his hand a last squeeze before she walked around the desk. “Tonight was about you.”

  “Why?” His brows pulled tighter, suspicion taking hold. “What do you mean?” He shoved his fists into his pockets, pulled them out to button his shirt up. About him?

  A cold sheen of ice formed over the warmth in his chest. Years of being the butt of the joke, the poor kid in the front row who the other kids pretended to be nice to, only to ridicule later, rushed up to mock him. Every thought was irrational, yet there they danced, taunting him with his past.

  Her movements were casual when she draped her coat over her arm and
slung her purse strap over her shoulder, but she froze when she glanced at him. Concern overtook her expression as she slowly lowered her hand to her side. “What?”

  “I—” He shook his head. “Never mind.” He snatched his tie from his desk and yanked it around his neck.

  Was he finally losing it? Had he picked up the wacky from his mother and the bastard from his father? Had the genes been ingrained in him from birth with no chance of reprieve? Had he not worked hard enough or long enough or...

  “Ryan?”

  He paused in the act of looping the knot in his tie, looking up. Confusion marred her forehead as she continued to stare at him. The sight punched at his guilt and knocked his doubts back a step. Fuck. What am I doing?

  He let his hands fall to his sides, his tie untangling to hang from his neck.

  It was Brie who broke the silence, asking quietly, “What’s going on?”

  How did he explain? Would she understand? Would it expose every flawed piece of him he’d tried so fucking hard to bury?

  He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m sorry.” He cleared the clump of grit from his throat, glanced away. That way he wouldn’t see the hurt or disappointment in her eyes.

  Her sigh dragged his gaze back. She ran a hand through her hair, drawing it away from her face. It fell in a cascade of silk to her shoulders. He knew exactly how soft it was. How it slid between his fingers to caress his skin.

  “You’re evading,” she said, calling him on his actions when most scurried away.

  His lip quirked at the corner. “Maybe.”

  “Why?”

  It was his turn to sigh. His head fell forward, his defenses tumbling before he was ready. Brie wouldn’t let him hide. Damn her for being...strong. Right.

  “I warned you I wasn’t good at this,” he said, going for another evasion.

  “What?” She flicked a brow up, arms crossing. “Receiving a blow job?”

  His scoff cut through the tension and broke through the irrational thoughts vying for validity. He pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to regain his focus.

  Her arms were lowered, a soft understanding reaching out in silent reassurance when he glanced her way.