With a mischievous lift of his lip, he reassured me. “Trust me, you didn’t ruin it.”
I stayed locked in his gaze, and I realized then that he had me. Really had me. Like a fly caught in a web. From the outside, it seemed so much more tenuous and fragile, this hold of his. Like getting near him was risky but wouldn’t do any long-term harm because I’d manage to break free. What was a web anyway but mere strands of thin silk?
But I was inside his trap now. Stuck. And his hold wasn’t fragile at all. I was going nowhere until he cut me loose. Any moment now he would—he’d decide that he was no longer interested in feasting on his captured prey, and he’d cut me from his web. But I’d become too wrapped up in his spinning to escape undamaged. My wings would tear and break. I’d be destroyed.
On a sudden impulse, I climbed into his lap, straddling him. He brought his knees up behind me, creating a natural seat. Marveling at the smoothness of his skin, I ran my hands over the firm peaks of his pecs and down the ridged planes of his abs.
“You scare me, too,” I whispered. A thrill ran down my spine as his cock stirred beneath me.
He ran a single finger from my cleavage up to the base of my throat. Lightly he pressed against my windpipe. “I like that I do.”
“But it’s different.”
He continued trailing his fingers up my neck until he got to my chin. There he stopped and rubbed his thumb back and forth across my lower lip. “Because I stopped Theo? That doesn’t mean I’m any less vile.”
“Because I want you to scare me, and you know it. Because the way you’re vile fits the way I’m vile.” I sucked hard on his thumb.
“You’re not vile,” he groaned. He drew his wet thumb from my lips and placed his hand firmly behind my neck so he could pull me down toward him.
“Then neither are you,” I managed before his mouth crashed against mine.
Our lips played with each other’s. Our tongues tangled. He licked deep inside my mouth, getting lost behind my teeth. He bruised me with the pressure of his nips along my jaw.
He was content to just kiss me like this for a long time. Well, not just kiss me. I lost my shirt—his shirt—right away, and his hands wandered up and down my body. Everywhere. Fondling my breasts. Pinching my nipples. Teasing past the crack in my ass.
I touched him as much as I could in return, sweeping my hands across his torso and bucking my hips against the growing length of his cock. But mostly, I clutched onto his neck and held on for dear life. Because though this wasn’t the first time I’d kissed him or rode him or coiled my fingers in his hair, this was the first time I was truly aware of what I was doing. That no matter what Donovan wanted this to be, I was not just having sex with him. This was not a non-relationship. Not for me.
And while I didn’t know what he wanted anymore or what would come next, I was sure that I needed to hold on.
Eventually, he tightened his arms around me and stood up. I wrapped my legs around him, locking my ankles at his waist. Without breaking his kiss, he carried me over to the bed and laid me on it. He undid the drawstring on his sweats, and I moved up to my knees so I could get a good look when he dropped them to the floor.
Jesus, he was hung.
I’d seen his cock before. Of course, I had.
But somehow seeing him completely naked, his firm thighs a mouthwatering background to the centerpiece, made his erection seem even fuller and heavier and more substantial than it ever had before.
I licked my tongue along my bottom lip. His eyes shone, the green flecks shimmering with satisfaction at the way I looked at him. With my eyes glued to his every move, he wrapped his hand around his shaft and tugged upward.
“Please,” I begged, my voice trembling, and I didn’t even know what I was begging for, but Donovan knew what I needed.
Wordlessly, he pushed me onto my side and curled up behind me. I immediately missed being able to watch him, but any objection I had to his chosen position was swallowed when he turned my chin toward him and devoured my mouth as he entered me with a long, slow glide.
He fucked me at a leisurely pace, his strokes pulling all the way out to the tip before pushing in again, deep. So deep. Balls deep. My nerves hummed from the intensity, but my orgasm couldn’t build enough to take off at this speed. It was luxuriously tormenting.
Soon, Donovan rolled onto his back, pulling me with him so that I was tight against his chest. It was harder to kiss him like this, but he had full access to my body, and he took advantage of it, playing with my breasts and rubbing at my clit in lazy circles, drawing my climax closer and closer and closer—
“Don’t come,” he commanded.
“I have to. I’m so close.” I was already on the edge.
“Don’t, Sabrina. I mean it.” His teeth sunk into the shell of my ear, a warning.
The haze around me dulled enough for me to think. “Then stop touching me like that.”
He was still massaging my clit, still tweaking my nipple in his other hand. “Uh-uh.”
The tension continued to build like a pressure cooker. I tried to sit up, tried to pull away from his attention, but he held me in place. “This isn’t fair.”
“My house, my rules. Remember?”
“Ah, fuck,” I moaned as his cock hit a particularly sensitive spot. “I. God. I can’t.”
“You will.”
Without him telling me what they were, I knew that my disobedience would have consequences.
And I wanted to obey him, for whatever reason.
Because I was in his bed.
Because it would make him happy.
Because it was natural.
So I fought against the growing tension, even as Donovan made it more and more impossible, increasing the tempo of his thrusts, pressing harder on my clit.
All the while he threatened at my ear, “Don’t do it, Sabrina. Don’t you dare come. Don’t you dare,” and he might as well have said, “Don’t you dare fall for me,” because pretty soon I realized it was just as pointless. Everything he did was leading toward that anyway. Everything he did was pushing me up, up, up and eventually, where else was I going to go? Eventually I’d—
“Now,” he growled.
—fall.
Just like that, on command, my orgasm tore through me, sending me spinning and spinning and spinning like a top—out-of-control and frenetic. Whirling so fast I was dizzy with euphoric, chaotic bliss.
He was right there with me, grunting out his climax in symmetry with mine. Both of us joined physically but experiencing our own separate rapture like we were two spiral galaxies revolving around each other in harmony.
It was beautiful. And perfect. And so much more than anything we’d shared before.
At least, it was for me.
It was a good feeling, a sweet ecstasy, and I didn’t want to disrupt it by thinking about what it was for him until I had to.
I closed my eyes to catch my breath.
It felt like a minute later, but it must have been longer because I was half asleep when Donovan pulled me under the covers and tugged me into his arms, spooning me. He was the only person I dreamt about that night, and my head wasn’t filled with images of rape or sex or assault or violence.
Instead, in my dreams, Donovan held me tight and whispered words that made me feel things. Beautiful things. Things he could never feel in return. Words he could never mean if he were awake.
Chapter 29
The smell of freshly ground coffee brewing woke me up the next morning.
I lingered for several minutes, letting consciousness chase sleep away. With wakefulness, I remembered—I was different today than when I’d woken up yesterday. I breathed that in; let myself adjust as my emotions spread their wings inside me like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon.
I was different.
But who was Donovan?
There was only one way to know. With a yawn, I stretched my well-used muscles and stumbled out of bed to find him.
First,
I had to find some clothes.
The shirt I’d worn the night before had disappeared so I had no choice but to invade his walk-in closet in search of my dress. As he’d said it would be, I found it hanging on the rack in front of a row of sharply tailored suits. It was obviously out of place, yet I liked the way my clothing looked next to his. I trailed my hand along the jacket sleeves as I walked toward the back of the room and inhaled. It smelled like him in here. Like his aftershave and the brand of shoe polish he used. I’d never get tired of that smell.
In the back of the closet, next to rows of neatly folded ties, I discovered a shelf of plain white T-shirts. I decided he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed one. Or, rather, I decided that I didn’t care if he did mind.
After stopping in the bathroom to freshen up as best as I could and swish with some mouthwash I found in his cabinet, I padded downstairs toward the smell of the coffee.
My nose led me to the kitchen where I also found Donovan. He was standing with his back to me at the island, reading on a tablet. He wore a light gray T-shirt and a different pair of sweatpants than he’d worn the night before, and though I liked this look on him as much as any, I was slightly disappointed to find his beautiful torso once again covered up.
He didn’t turn around when I walked in, though I was sure he heard me coming down the stairs. Sure he felt my presence the same way I felt the heat radiating off him in my direction.
He was going to make me be the one to break the Morning After ice.
Okay. No big deal.
“Hi,” I said, feeling my cheeks redden for no reason other than I was in the same room with Donovan Kincaid.
Slowly, in his own time, he turned around. He narrowed his eyes as he looked me over. With a frown, he crossed over to a cabinet and pulled out a coffee mug. “I don’t recall setting a shirt out for you.” He handed me the cup.
I smiled, sure he was teasing, but quickly sobered when he didn’t return it.
“I was cold,” I said in my defense. Now that it was daylight, he could want me gone as soon as possible. “I’ll change into my dress after I shower, if you don’t mind.”
Or did he want me naked?
I held my breath waiting for a clue.
“I suppose I don’t mind.” His tone was neutral, though, and didn’t give me anything to go on.
I went to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach and the tightness of my chest. The air between us was charged, but it felt like razors when I inhaled, I was so unsure of what we were. What would happen next.
Usually, I took my coffee with both cream and sweetener, but I didn’t want to push his hospitality so I spooned some sugar from the bowl and stepped away from the counter.
Donovan was waiting for me with creamer from the fridge. “It’s plain. It’s all I have.”
Goose bumps rode down my skin.
“Thanks. Plain is great.” I held my cup out and let him pour some in, wondering if I’d ever told him that I usually drank my coffee with hazelnut or if he’d just guessed.
“I had a protein bar for breakfast myself. But I can get you anything. There’s toast. Or fruit. Or eggs.” He opened the refrigerator and reached inside.
“I usually just have—” I stopped abruptly as he handed me an individual-sized cup of Greek yogurt.
“Or yogurt,” he said.
“Yogurt,” I said at the same time. “Thanks.”
“Spoons are in the drawer behind you.”
I didn’t move. Guessing that I took flavored creamer was one thing. My choice of breakfast food was another. “How did you—?”
“You eat your breakfast at the office most mornings.” Reaching over, he removed the foil lid on the yogurt. “Same thing every day.” He pulled on a lower cabinet handle and a recycling can emerged. He tossed the foil inside and shut it.
“You are perceptive.” I hadn’t even realized he’d ever seen me eating my breakfast. I was obviously the one who wasn’t perceptive.
“I said I was.” Since I hadn’t moved to get a spoon, he reached around me to grab one and stuck it in my yogurt cup for me.
“You’re also cocky.” This time when I grinned up at him, his eyes twinkled as though grinning back, even though his lips remained straight and even.
I stared at those lips, wanting them. He was already so near, his hand resting on the counter behind me, and who cared that I had yogurt in one hand and coffee in another? I only needed my mouth to reach up for a kiss.
I took a step in toward him, but he blinked and abruptly backed up.
“Look.” He scratched the back of his neck, evading my eyes. “I have some work I need to attend to.”
…and there it was. The brush-off.
Disappointment fell through me like an elevator with cut cables.
“I’ll take a quick shower and get out of your hair.” At least he’d been more polite about the way he’d asked for space this time. He’d made progress there. It just hurt that he still needed space.
I set my mug and untouched yogurt on the counter and, with my back to him, babbled on awkwardly. “I have stuff to do today anyway. I have to review the ROI on the social media campaigns for last month, and I’m behind on my opportunity analysis reports. I should really get started as soon as possible if I expect to put a dent in those.”
“No need to rush out. At least finish your coffee first.” His inflection portrayed nothing but poise.
I nodded and took a sip from my mug. He’d turned back to his tablet, so I could watch him as he drank his own coffee and flipped through the pages of the online Wall Street Journal. As though today was life as usual. As though everything was normal. Was this really still no big deal to him? Were we really in just a physical relationship? Did last night mean nothing more than every other time we’d been together?
After several heavy minutes of silence, he turned his head slightly in my direction. “Weston still has you doing the long-form OARs?”
He wanted to talk about work then. Fine.
“Yes. They’re time-consuming and the bane of my existence.” I hated the several-page analysis that Weston required monthly for every account that I worked, but I’d do a million of them if it meant the uneasiness between Donovan and me would disappear. “If they were helpful, that would be one thing, but mostly they just reiterate information from month to month.”
He nodded once. “Agreed. When you report to me, I’ll reduce the requirement to semi-annually.” He flipped another page on his tablet.
My brow furrowed and alarm bells rang in my ears. “I’m going to report to you?”
With his back still to me, he explained. “We have lax fraternization rules, but even so, you can’t report to Weston once you’re dating him.”
I almost dropped my coffee mug. “You’re kidding, right?”
He turned to face me. “No, I’m not,” he said gruffly.
Of course he wasn’t kidding. Donovan wasn’t the type to kid and everything about his tone and body language said he was serious.
“Weston and I discussed it before you started working for Reach. We decided to wait until you were officially dating to make the assignment transfer, but it will be necessary.”
I set my mug down and ran my hand across my forehead. “Wait…what?”
“When you start seeing Weston,” he said slowly, patronizingly, “you will report to me instead of him.”
There was something familiar about this. When I’d first arrived, Donovan had joked about me reporting to someone else, but the conversation had gotten dismissed. This was what it was about. They’d made arrangements in case Weston and I decided to see each other seriously.
God, that was a lifetime ago.
And Donovan thought it was still a possible scenario?
“No,” I said, shaking my head emphatically, which was suddenly pounding as heavily as my heart. “No.”
“No?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the island behind him.
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“No!” I was vehement this time. “Never mind that we’d have serious conflicts with you as my supervisor.” Okay, sometimes I found his power games hot, but that wasn’t the point. “I am not dating Weston.”
“Not now, you’re not. This is after he’s annulled his marriage that we’re talking about.”
I threw my hands up. “I am not dating Weston! Not now. Not ever. How can you even think that I would…?” I trailed off, realizing that I might have never fully clarified this.
Shit. Had Donovan been thinking I was still hung up on Weston all this time?
“Okay.” I exhaled, trying to remain calm. “I said I was going to go after him, but I’m not. I’m not interested in him. He is not the guy I’m interested in.” I couldn’t make it any more clear without saying it outright.
Donovan thought about it then shrugged. “That’s a shame.” He grabbed his coffee mug and carried it over to the sink where he dumped out the remains. “You two seemed right for each other.”
“We are not even a little bit right for each other!” I blared. Besides, I’m seeing you!
Calmly, he filled the mug with hot water from the faucet. “I wasn’t aware your feelings had changed.”
He was being such an incredibly hurtful ass. I wanted so much to grab the mug and throw the hot water in his face. “My feelings haven’t changed, and you know goddamn well they haven’t. I never had the feelings in the first place. You were the one who pushed me to him, and that was only because you were trying so hard to push me away from you.”
He shut the faucet off and turned to me, his stare confrontational. “What was that?”
His icy tone and the cold way he looked into me sent a chill down my spine.
I folded my arms across my chest, willing to stand my ground but not sure I was brave enough to say it again. “You know what I said.”
He took a step toward me, his eyes narrow. “Are you under an impression that something else is going on between us other than what is?”
My hands felt suddenly clammy, and my throat had a lump in it the size of a tennis ball. It was my chance. My opportunity to tell him things had changed. This was a relationship. This was more than Just Sex. Not just for me—for him too, I was almost sure of it. He hadn’t slept with anyone else since he’d been with me. Wasn’t that what a relationship was?
Need you Now (Top Shelf Romance Book 2) Page 26