by Pamela Clare
“When I got there, the man waiting for me was the same man who’d hit on me at the nightclub.”
Chapter 12
Eric didn’t like where this was going.
Tears filled her eyes again. “He walked up to me with a mean grin on his face, took the money, then looked me up and down and said he wished he’d had Stewart’s job in this little caper because he would’ve loved to fuck me. I threw up in the bushes.”
Eric felt his teeth grind.
The entire thing had been a setup from the beginning.
“A month or so later, I got an email from Stewart again. It turns out he knew my brother from rugby and had gotten my new email address from him. I clicked on the email, and there was the video again. He said it would go live unless I gave him two million six hundred dollars by the next afternoon.”
“Where did he expect you to get that kind of money?” If someone tried to blackmail Eric, they’d be so screwed.
“That was the exact amount in my trust fund—information he’d gotten from my brother, who has never apologized, by the way.”
What the hell was wrong with her brother?
“Did you pay that asshole again?”
“No. I got angry.”
“Good.”
“I realized it would never end as long as he thought he could get more money from me. I called my father and told him what had happened. He went crazy and shouted at me over the phone.”
Now Eric understood why she wasn’t close with her family—a brother who gave away her private information, a father whose first reaction to a predator committing a crime against her was to yell at her, and a mother who had apparently abandoned her for Italian men. “Didn’t he do anything to help you?”
“Oh, yes, he did—when he finished yelling. He called a friend of his in the district attorney’s office. They called the Chicago police, who worked with me to set up a sting. I took the money to a deli on the Riverwalk like Stewart told me to. This time, the woman showed up, the one I’d caught him having sex with at my condo. I was wearing a wire and got her on tape telling me that Stewart’s having sex with me had just been a business transaction. I told her to tell him that I wouldn’t pay them another dime. She said I would do whatever they told me to do. She said I should think of it as a tax on stupid.”
Eric opened his mouth to say something supportive, but his temper got the better of him—again. “What a fucking bitch!”
“Police arrested her when she walked out of the deli. She fell apart and ratted out Stewart and the other guy. They had what they needed to arrest Stewart on a bunch of felonies—extortion, breaking into my apartment, nonconsensual dissemination of sexual images and some other stuff. They confiscated a bunch of flash drives, his cameras, and his computer and took the websites down. He got four years in prison, but he’ll probably be out in two.”
“Did you have to face him in court?” Eric could only imagine what a nightmare that must have been.
“No, thank God. He made a plea deal. I was afraid it was going to blow up in the newspapers, and then everyone would know. In Illinois, taping someone without their consent is considered a form of sexual assault, so the newspapers respected my privacy. I had to tell my boss just in case. She was more understanding than my father.”
Well, that gave Eric one reason not to hate the woman.
“Stewart had always worn condoms, but I got tested for STDs anyway—twice. Thank God I was okay. But I had nightmares for months. I still do once in a while. I didn’t feel safe at home, so I sold my condo and rented a place on the other side of town. I don’t like being in public because I’m afraid someone will recognize me.”
And now that had finally happened.
Shit.
“Every time my phone buzzes, I get a sick feeling. Even all these months later, some part of me thinks it’s him.”
So that’s why she jumped every time her phone made a sound. It wasn’t her boss. It was a post-traumatic response. “Ah, honey. God, I’m so sorry.”
“I haven’t been with anyone since then—no dates, not even a kiss …” Her gaze shot to his, a blush rising in her cheeks. “Well, until you.”
He could only imagine how hard it must be for her to trust men—or to trust herself—after that nightmare. “Kissing me brought it all back for you, didn’t it?”
She shook her head. “It was the lens on your computer. I opened my eyes, and it was staring straight at me. My mind knew it wasn’t recording, but I just…”
He understood now. “Your body reacted.”
“Now you know. Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“Come here.” He reached for her.
She slipped easily into his arms, rested her head on his chest.
And for a time, all he did was hold her.
Telling Eric the whole story had left Vic feeling drained, but also strangely free. Until tonight, the only person who’d known outside her own family was Lexi. Well, and his mother and Abigail. Given the way her father and brother had reacted, she’d been afraid to tell anyone else. She didn’t want to be branded as the woman in the sex tape.
But Eric hadn’t blamed her or berated her. There’d been no judgment in his eyes or in anything he’d said. He’d seemed genuinely sorry that this terrible thing had happened to her. He’d even gotten angry on her behalf.
God, that had felt good.
Now his cheek rested against the top of her head, both arms around her as if she were precious to him, as if he truly cared. Lexi had warned her he didn’t play for keeps, but this felt real to her.
That’s what you thought about Stewart.
Yes, but Stewart had deceived her, lied to her, deliberately misled her. Eric didn’t have a deceptive bone in his body.
How she wished she could go back to that moment Sunday night when he’d been kissing her right here on this sofa. He’d made her come so fast, and they hadn’t really been having sex. She would keep her eyes closed this time, and they wouldn’t stop.
Then again, what was keeping her from picking up where they’d left off?
He’s Austin’s best friend.
Every time she came back to Scarlet, she’d see him. If he did meet someone and settle down, she’d see that, too. How would that make her feel?
She wouldn’t like it, but she would hate it if she went back to Chicago without seeing where this attraction could carry them.
You made yourself a promise.
Yes, and, God in Heaven, it was time she broke it.
She turned her face to his, slid her fingers into his hair, and kissed him.
He did a quick little intake of breath, his body tensing, his lips answering hers, the contact sending a jolt of heat through her. All too soon, he broke the kiss. “You need to get some sleep. You’ve got a date with a pizza tomorrow morning.”
She’d almost forgotten that. “Please stay.”
He looked straight into her eyes, those blue irises dark. “I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.”
She had only one answer to that. “I want you.”
His body tensed again, but still, he kept his distance. He tugged on the front of his T-shirt. “I got pretty sweaty at the rock gym and haven’t had a shower since.”
“I like the way you smell—but if you want to shower, the walk-in shower in my bathroom is big enough for two.” Then she remembered he’d taken a shower here once before. “Oh. You already know that.”
Pulse skipping at the thought of what she was about to do, she stood and began to undress, taking off her tank top, then her bra, and then her shorts until she stood in front of him almost naked.
His gaze moved over her, his expression unreadable, a muscle tensing in his jaw. “Just so you know…I can see your panties.”
“It’s different if they’re on me.” What didn’t he understand?
Then it struck her that maybe he didn’t want to be with her. Maybe hearing about Stewart and the sex tape had turned him off. “If you’re
not interested, I—”
“Not interested?” In a heartbeat, he was on his feet. “Is that what you think?”
He didn’t wait for her answer, his hand sliding into her hair, his lips coming down hard on hers. He kissed her slow and deep, his heat enfolding her, the things he was doing with his lips and tongue making her knees go weak.
God, no man on earth kissed like this.
He slowed the kiss, drew back from her, looked into her eyes. “Once we cross this bridge, there’s no going back.”
She finished the speech for him. “It’s just sex. I know. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Oh, but it does, Victoria.” He touched his forehead to hers, his lips wet from kissing her. “This won’t be a business transaction. It won’t be casual. There won’t be any cell phones or cameras or computers. It’s going to be personal and real—just you and me. We’re both going to remember it for the rest of our lives. Is that what you want?”
“God, yes.”
One corner of his mouth quirked in a grin. “Show me that shower.”
She led him to the bathroom. “Voilà.”
He yanked his T-shirt over his head, took his wallet out of his pocket, and pulled out a small aluminum case. “Condoms.”
Then he reached for his fly.
“Let me.” She reached out, unbuttoned his jeans and …
Oh. God!
He wasn’t wearing underwear.
His erection sprang free of the denim, jutting upward from a nest of dark curls, the sight of it making her belly clench.
She grew wet just looking at him.
He shucked the jeans, a grin on his face. “You’re staring.”
She took him into her hand, making the muscles of his belly jerk. She stroked him from base to tip, aroused and intrigued by the velvet-hard feel of him. “That’s only because you’re so … small.”
He wasn’t small at all, and he knew it.
He grinned, the heat in his eyes sending a shiver through her. “You know what they say. The best things come in small packages.”
He reached past her into the shower and turned on the hot water.
Eric used the few seconds it took to set the water temperature to slow himself down, taking deep belly breaths. He remembered what she’d said—that it wasn’t easy for her to come. Well, he was going to do his part to change that for her. “Let me know if this is too hot.”
He turned around just in time to see her tuck her panties behind a stack of clean towels and might have teased her about it if his gaze hadn’t landed on the perfection that was her ass. Then she turned to face him, and he stood there for a moment, dumbstruck by the sight of her—those full breasts with their dark nipples, her narrow waist and gently rounded belly, her full hips, the triangle of dark curls between her thighs.
“God, Victoria, you’re … beautiful.” He held out both hands for her, drew her under the spray with him.
She reached for the soap. “Now I don’t have to be jealous.”
“Jealous?” What reason could she possibly have to feel jealous?
She smiled at him from beneath those long lashes. “I had a fantasy where I was your soap.”
He laughed, spread his arms wide, offering himself to her. “I’m yours to lather.”
She started with his chest, soapy hands sliding slowly over his wet skin, her fingers teasing his nipples until they were hard. Next, she moved down his belly, exploring his abs, lavishing special attention on his obliques, pure female desire on her face. Then she dropped to her knees before him, her soapy fingers cupping his balls and tickling his inner thighs before closing at last around his cock.
She stroked him from base to aching tip, soap making her hand glide easily over him. He fought to hold his hips still, willed his body to relax. But, God, she was good at this. Unless she wanted to end things before they really got going...
He caught her wrists, drew her to her feet, trading places with her, water rinsing his body clean. He pried the soap from her hand, set it in its porcelain dish. “My turn.”
She stood with her back to the spray, her breathing rapid, her skin flushed with arousal, her dark hair hanging in wet tendrils over her nipples.
He lifted the wet mass of her hair out of the way and wrapped an arm around her to steady her, then lowered his mouth to an already puckered nipple and indulged himself, sucking, nipping it with his teeth, tasting it with his tongue.
She gasped, then exhaled, a long shuddering breath, arching in his arms, her fingers catching in his hair. “Eric.”
He switched to the other breast, tugging on her nipple with his lips before drawing it into his mouth. Her head fell back on a moan, her body pliant in his arms. He slid his free hand over the silky curve of her hip to squeeze her ass, the feel of her leaving him drunk on lust. God, he wanted to be inside her, ached to bury himself in her.
But not yet. Not yet.
He drew away from her, turned her to face the wall, and spread her feet wide apart. He reached around to cup her with one hand, stroking and teasing her clit, the other hand playing with her nipples. She sagged against him, moaning, the sweet curves of her ass pressing against his thigh, her head resting on his chest.
Then he lifted the shower head out of its cradle and adjusted it from the Gentle Rain setting to Pulse. “You’re not the only one who had fantasies.”
Her gaze fixed on what he held in his hand. “Are you going to …?”
“Yeah. I’m going to give you shower head.” He grinned at his own stupid joke, then aimed the spray just there.
“Oh!” She cried out, one hand splayed against the tile wall, the other grabbing onto his forearm, her nails biting into his skin. “Oh … God.”
“Does that feel good?”
Her answer was lost somewhere amid breathy moans.
He moved in closer, supported her with his body, using his free hand to press circles against her pubic mound just above her clit, keeping his pace steady. Already, she was close, her breathing now ragged, her thighs quivering.
She was so responsive, so innately sexual that it made Eric want to flay the assholes who’d enjoyed her sweet body without paying attention to the woman inside it.
“Ohgodohgod! Oh… Eric!” She came with a cry, her nails digging into his skin.
He stayed with her, waited until her body relaxed, then turned off the water and tucked the shower head back in its cradle, his dick so hard it hurt.
She sagged against him, still breathing hard.
He reached for a towel, wrapped it around her, grabbed the condom case. Then, because he knew she liked it, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed.
Eric lowered Victoria to the bed and followed her down, settling his weight beside her, the hunger in his eyes making her breath catch. “Victoria.”
He took her mouth in an urgent kiss, and they rolled together across the bed, legs tangled, wet skin against wet skin. One big hand moved to cup and shape her breast, his thumb running lazy circles over her nipple, his erection prodding her belly. Heat shuddered through her, his touch rekindling the fire he’d just put out.
She ran her hands over the damp skin of his back and shoulders, savoring the hard feel of his muscles and the satin of his skin. Knowing what came next and eager to please him as much as he’d already pleased her, she slipped one hand between them and took hold of his cock.
He nudged his hips forward, thrusting into her grasp, the rocking motion of his body blatantly erotic. Then he withdrew his cock from her hand, whispering against her throat. “There’s time for that later.”
His words sent a pulse of excitement through her. She was used to being rushed, used to men who went straight from kissing to ramming. This felt like a luxury—lying on the bed with him, arousal on slow burn inside her once more, her body still weak from one of the most incredible orgasms of her life.
He kissed her throat, her clavicle, her breastbone, her breasts. He lavished attention on each nipple in its turn until s
he was senseless with pleasure. But he didn’t stop there, his mouth blazing a path along the undersides of her breasts and down her belly until it felt like her skin was on fire.
She was burning, burning for him.
He raised himself up, crawling backward to the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on hers. He got to his feet, grabbed her ankles, and pulled her slowly toward him. “Come here, honey.”
Her heart gave a hard knock when she realized what he was doing. “Oh, no, you don’t have to—”
“I want your taste in my mouth.” He kissed her ankle, his eyes looking straight into hers. “I want your scent on my skin.” He kissed her calf. “I want to make you scream.”
Speechless, she watched as he dropped to his knees between her thighs and rested her feet on his shoulders, his fingers parting her. She heard—and felt—him exhale, his breath cool against the wetness there. She let her knees fall open, fully exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been since …
Don’t think about that.
Eric seemed to like what he saw. “Jesus.”
She watched as he lowered his mouth to her and tasted her with a single, slow stroke of his tongue.
She sucked in a breath, reached for him, her fingers curling in his hair.
He moaned. “Mmm. You taste incredible.”
Then he closed his mouth over her and sucked on her clit.
She cried out, shocked by sensations almost too good to bear, her hips jerking upward on their own. Oral sex had never felt like this before.
He laughed, those blue eyes of his looking up at her as he rested an arm across her hips to hold her in place. Then he did it again. And again. And again.
“That … feels … so … good.”
It felt better than good. It felt crazy, sweet, excruciating.