by Cari Quinn
Miranda leaned back in her chair. “So, that means it’s time for you to scoot too, Max.”
He crossed his Italian loafer-clad foot over one ankle. “You can’t live your life afraid to move forward, love.” Instead of saying more, he simply cocked his head and looked into her eyes. Sighing, he stood. “Think about it, okay?”
“I know what I’m doing, Max.”
He lifted his laptop case. “You don’t have a clue what you’re doing, besides drowning in this company and growing roots into that terminal.”
She read his body language, the disappointment. “Max—”
“Forget it, Miranda. If you want to spend the rest of your life alone here, with those monitors as your only company, then that’s what you’re going to do. No matter how much I wish I could force you to get out there, in the end it’s up to you.”
“Dammit!” Stella whimpered under her desk and coiled into a ball. Miranda chased after him, but he was already down the hallway. The elevator opened and Max stood face-to-face with Nate. “Hell.”
The contrast between the two men was not so much in their general looks. They were both dark-haired, both arresting in their way. Where Max was shorter, more elegant both in posture and a simple refined grace, Nate was a little rough around the edges, proud and powerful. He was back in his jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, his jeans half jammed into the tops of scarred leather boots as if he’d dressed quickly. His dark hair was slicked back, leaving his eyes unframed save for his heavy, dark brows.
Max looked up at Nate, then to Miranda. Without saying a word, he stepped into the elevator. Conscious of the fact that she was standing in the middle of the corridor, she headed back into her office.
“Miranda!”
She stood in her doorway, looking at her desk with the three large monitors filled with images and code. She felt his heat at her back. “I don’t want to be my terminal.”
“What?”
She turned around, searching his gray eyes. Confusion and awareness buzzed between them. “I—” She stepped forward, but he must have understood her impatience and frustration because his mouth was on hers even before she could utter a request.
She gripped his shoulders, her toes already off the floor as he palmed her lower back, the loose cotton of her shirt bunching at her hips. His other hand buried itself in her hair as he angled her mouth for a deeper kiss.
There wasn’t any sweetness in his hold. She’d expected gentleness, maybe a little uncertainty, not this. He consumed her, drawing her tongue into his mouth to twine and tangle with his. She held on, digging into the dense muscles of his shoulders as he liquefied her brain. He tasted like freedom and the Bay.
She’d done carnal, she’d done dangerous, and somehow his taste was a mix of the before and something more. Unknown and frighteningly close to addicting, she let his flavor coil inside her, pushing sensible Miranda down into the sand.
Where she belongs.
His fingertips found skin at the base of her spine, just above the soft yoga pants she wore. She moaned into his mouth. “Touch me, Nathan. I need you to touch me, Nate.”
Chapter Five
Nathan wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. To go from nothing to everything in a moment? Lust replaced rational thought as her knee hooked over his hip and she climbed on to him.
The sporty clothes did nothing to kill the insane attraction either. He braced for her weight, but she was flexible and light despite her height. He grasped her ass, unprepared for her relentless mouth. The reserved Miranda was gone as if she’d never been.
He’d been dreaming of tasting her, but the actuality of her was beyond anything he could have come up with. Where there was once indifference, now only power and heat remained. Her taste blinded him, driving every thought of stopping out of his head.
He kicked her door shut, stumbling for a moment when she hoisted herself up, balancing her forearms on his shoulders. Her fingernails scored his neck and twisted into his hair. She was slightly higher than him now, her mouth—God, that insolent, lush mouth of hers—impatient and demanding. She sucked his bottom lip in, scraping her teeth over it with a playful smile as his shoulder blades and skull slammed into the skinny window to the left of her door.
Stars shot behind his eyelids, but he didn’t care. She kept one arm around him and braced her palm against the frame, undulating against him. His cock jumped, straining against his jeans. He slid away from the window until the solid surface of the wall met his back. She dug her knees into his torso for balance, her feet digging into his thighs. He arched his back to hold on to her, pressing her closer—breast, belly, center. He wanted inside her.
Fuck, she was driving him crazy.
Breathing was optional. He didn’t need oxygen, just her taste. He shifted until he could prop her up with one forearm, leaving his other hand free to roam up her back. He pushed at her oversized shirt, the lightweight cotton slithered up her skin, twisting around his hand.
She dug her nails into his shoulder for purchase and reached back with her other hand, meeting him in the middle. He transferred his hold to her ass as she arched back, whipping the shirt over her head, leaving just her bra and his shirt between them. “Off,” she said and went back to his mouth. Scraping her teeth down his chin, she bounced once, stabilizing herself. Her eyes were wild as she yanked at his sleeve, his neckline, anything she could reach.
He grunted and twisted, but there was no way he could get the shirt off without putting her down and that just wasn’t an option. He wasn’t letting her go.
He stilled at her laughter. It was rich and sexy, dark and playful. Something he’d never heard out of her mouth. His vision blurred for a second when she dragged his shirt up enough for their skin to touch. Then she gave up on getting the shirt off and latched on to his mouth again. He groaned as the heat of her skin blazed against his.
They were belly to belly but she panted to get closer. His fingers found the t-back to her bra, fumbling for a catch. The heavy cotton blocked her from him. He wanted to feel the dig of her nipples, the softness of her breasts.
“Push,” she said and licked her way down his neck. “Push it up, it has to go over—yeah, just like that.” He flipped it up enough to get her free, but couldn’t let her go long enough to get it up and off.
“God.” All his breath left him. He wanted to see all of her. The flashes of freckle-kissed skin were a tease. He collapsed back against the wall, his mouth homing in on the long, elegant neck that had been driving him nuts for years. He sipped at the freckles that dotted her jawline, the patch that teased her shoulder and hid under the strap of her bra. Her cocoa butter scent intensified as her hair loosened from its clip, falling between them.
She maneuvered herself up just enough that his nose brushed the tight tip of her nipple. His thumbs skated along her ribs, digging into her hips. Afraid that she’d be full of bruises by the time he was done with her, he transferred his hold to her ass to line her up with his greedy mouth.
A long, low moan reverberated through her chest and into him. He sucked harder, flicking his tongue around the tiny pink tip. She was in the shadows cast by the late-day sun, leaving him little choice but to learn her by touch. He found the water-soft curve of her breast, running his tongue along the heaviest part of her until she filled his mouth. “More,” he murmured, shifting her higher until his teeth scraped along her ribs.
He wanted to eat her alive. She scissored her legs around him, scraped her nails along his scalp. With each open-mouthed kiss he trailed over her skin his hunger only intensified. He found a twining black art tattoo along her rib cage that disappeared down into her pants. He wanted to see more, to look closer, but her knees dug into his ribs with bruising force as she climbed him looking for more.
The pain was an afterthought against the rocketing need. He tasted everything he could reach and it still wasn’t enough.
Nate lowered her until they lined up again, hissing as her hips rolled against his cock une
rringly, enveloping him through his jeans and her stretchy cotton pants. He groaned into her mouth, pushing off the wall until she had no choice but to slide to the floor.
Dropping to his knees, he scored his fingers down her back, dragging her pants and panties down until his tongue could follow the swirling vine of the continuing ink that spread along her hip. An intricate line of cherry blossoms arrowed under her bellybutton, with the largest blossom just over her the cropped triangle of red hair above her pussy.
He looked up at her to find those heated eyes watching him. A flicker of something pricked between his shoulders. Her pupils were wide with excitement. He nuzzled his nose just under the blossom, dragging in the scent of her.
She gripped his shoulders and her thighs opened. He tucked his knuckle under the hood where her clit hid. She undulated against him. Her head, back and neck arched as he circled her, twisting his hand to slide a finger inside her.
He wasn’t sure who groaned louder. She was so wet and ready, the swollen tissues felt so incredible that he was two fingers deep inside her before he realized it.
More.
He wanted her stretched out and open for him, he wanted her to let him inside. She gripped his hair, restless and vibrating with need.
Her eyes, wild and glassy with lust, urged him closer. Pulling out of her, he opened her with his thumbs and went with instinct. Wrapping his lips around her clit, he sucked. She tasted like the twining shadows that had taken over the room. Slick and warm, she infiltrated his taste buds. One hand flat to her belly, he used his thumb to circle the knot of nerves as he stroked the underside with his tongue. She soaked his chin faster than he could swallow.
She writhed above him, her grip increasing until he was pretty sure a bald spot was in his future, but he didn’t stop. His button fly sliced into him, but he didn’t move. There was nothing but her, but drowning in her taste. Stroking faster, he followed the tension in her body and eased off a little to trace her folds before he drove his tongue into her pussy. She bucked against him and he transferred his hold to her hips. He held her tightly and eased back enough to find her clit, circling it again and again as she shouted and struggled.
He looked up, making sure the pleasure was real and he wasn’t hurting her in any way. Her head was thrown back, her entire body shuddering in his arms as he latched his lips where she needed him and rode her orgasm even if it felt as though she was fighting him the entire way.
Want and need scratched and crawled up his spine. He drove his tongue into her for one last taste before he forced himself to back off. Rising up on one knee, he ripped at his belt. She swayed once before he caught her against him. “Miranda?”
She jerked at his belt, impatience a living thing in the room. The clink of the heavy silver buckle cracking against his button fly jeans made them both flinch.
Her chest heaved as she pushed up his shirt. He tore it off, letting it hit the floor. He made quick work of her bra now that they weren’t tangled anymore. She didn’t look away from his torso. With trembling fingers she traced the light patch of hair that trailed under his fly.
His muscles tightened then quivered as she slowly dragged the back of her knuckles up the ridges of his abs until she came to his chest. With her other hand she jerked once and the rip of buttons through denim made them both suck in a sharp breath.
“Look at me.” She didn’t listen to him, instead her gaze locked on the black cotton that molded along the line of his cock. Her thumb traced the ridge of his head and he arched up against her. Swallowing hard, he tried again. “Miranda?”
She pressed one hand to his chest and cupped him in her other and words lost all meaning. Lost in her, he simply watched her touch him. She used both hands to peel back the cotton to reveal his shaft. Her lips parted and her tongue darted out to wet them.
He cupped her jaw, his thumb following the slick trail of her bottom lip. She finally looked up at him then, the wildness in her gaze making him all the harder. She scraped her teeth along the wide pad of his thumb as her fingers circled the base of him.
His hips jerked up as she stroked him slowly. He was so hard that she needed to pull him away from his belly. He hissed as she molded him with her palm, sliding up to twist her fingers around his shaft with enough pressure that all he could focus on was getting inside her.
Her thumbnail scraped lightly through the fluid that had gathered along the sensitive tip of his cock. “Condom?” Her voice finally broke him out of his passive role. Steel buttons dug into his balls as he reached for his wallet. She leaned in, grazing her teeth against his shoulder and over to find his nipple. “Hurry.”
He groaned as her fingers snaked lower and cupped him, rolling his balls in the palm of her hand before gripping him at the base again. “You’re killing me here.”
She flicked the tip of her tongue around his nipple and sucked hard, then smiled against his skin. The itch between his shoulder blades returned. Her smile wasn’t quite right. It was almost calculating.
“If you’d get that condom on, we’d both be happy.” She was back on her toes, nipping at his chin first, then his lower lip until he had to jerk away from her before she drew blood.
He laughed off the uneasy feeling, brushing her hand away so he could think. He bent down, his mouth searched out hers instinctively. She didn’t pull back like some women would. In fact, her pupils dilated even more.
“I can taste me,” she murmured against his mouth. The wonder in her voice made his dick throb even harder. “Is this how I taste?”
“Better.”
She nudged him back a step. His calves hit the sleek couch by the door. She dragged his jeans and boxer briefs down enough to free him all the way and pushed him onto the couch. She climbed into his lap, a sly smile on her kiss-swollen lips. Again, a sense of warning pulled him out of the moment. Something was off.
Before he could figure out what, he was rolled under in a kiss so deep that he had no choice but to surrender. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs grazing over the tips as she rocked against him. The head of his cock brushed her belly and he groaned louder.
Inside.
Now.
She gripped his shoulders, ripping her mouth from his. “Condom.”
“Right.” He fumbled, finally finding the foil packet and sheathing himself a moment before she ran her swollen folds over the tip of his cock.
Inside.
Now.
The chant in his head had nothing on the reality of the moment. Of this woman he’d wanted for so long rocking over him, their bodies a breath away from joining. He held on to her hips, lining them up so he could slip inside her.
Instead of focusing on him, she stared over his shoulder and the connection that had been there a moment ago dissolved. “Miranda.”
She shut her eyes, digging her fingers into his shoulders as she slid herself down his length. He couldn’t quite stop the quick shout of pleasure as her knees clamped his hips, crowding around him with her warmth. He wanted to hold her there, to drown in her, but she was already moving. She lifted herself higher and he took the clue and sucked her elegant neck, drawing in her scent as she took him inside her again.
The sweet tang of the beach swirled in his head. He bowed up against her as she twisted slowly with her hips. Choking on a groan, he growled her name and gripped her ass, trying to stop the racing finish that wouldn’t be denied.
He tried to meet her mouth, but she wouldn’t connect with him. She pressed her face into his shoulder and curled around him, the lure of her body and the need to come so close it switched off his brain. Sweat and the musky scent of them flowed up between them until it was only the slap of flesh and his groans filling the room. Distantly, he noticed that it was only his groans. She’d gone silent.
The slick heat of her clasping around him again and again pushed him closer to his limit. He slid his hand up her back, burying it into her hair to hold on to her and try to maneuver her mouth to his. But she rolled her hips in such a
way that his orgasm blindsided him.
He gripped her hips and drove into her again and again. He felt her shudders and the heaving of their lungs. The knife-edge of lust dissipated like steam, leaving only a heavy blanket of doubt. He pressed his lips to her neck and her jawline to try to reach her mouth, but she wouldn’t face him.
He tried to hug her but she stiffened in his arms. At a loss, he let his hands fall to his sides. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked her quietly. Trying again, he cupped the back of her head, but she remained stiff and unyielding above him. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”
“You don’t hear me complaining, do you?”
“I don’t know, Miranda. I’m not hearing much out of you at all.” Dusk had descended while they’d been…he didn’t know what it was. Sex was too impersonal, but making love wasn’t right either. They’d started out amazing, but he’d lost her somewhere along the way. “Talk to me.”
“Can’t it just be what it was?” she asked against his shoulder, her gaze fixated on the window.
He caught the shining eyes of Stella under the desk, but she didn’t try to come out. Instead, she tucked tighter around herself like her master. He smoothed his hand down her tangled hair. “What then, what was it?”
She leaned back, but it was too dark to read her. Hell, he was still inside her and she could have been across the damn room for all the connection between them.
“Sex,” she said simply.
Swallowing against the urge to roll her off and leave, he stayed still. He didn’t want this Miranda back. “I thought you didn’t want just the physical?” Was it his imagination or had she flinched? He wished for a lamp, sunlight, hell, a flashlight. Anything so he could see her face.
“Didn’t stop you from taking it when it was offered.” She climbed off him, his now-soft dick sliding onto his thigh with a wet slap. She crouched for her shirt, the rose tinge of the sun highlighting her sweat-slickened shoulder.
“Dammit, that’s not fair. We were right there in this together until you—”