Matchless

by Brynley Bush

  Along with a lot of hard work, my instincts have served me well in my career and have gotten me a job at one of the top law firms in California. I’ve learned to trust them. Taking a deep breath, I wriggle out of the two articles of clothing I’m wearing, smiling as his gaze travels appreciatively down my body, and place my hand in his.

  The water is cold and dark, and I can’t help but think about all the fish and creepy sea creatures I can’t see in the water. Nervous, I pull away as Griffin tries to pull me deeper.

  “What?” he asks, stopping to place both hands on either side of my face, tilting it up so he can look into my eyes. “Are you scared?”

  “Hell yes, I’m scared!” I retort. “There could be a shark right behind you about to eat us and we wouldn’t even know it.”

  “It’s low tide. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  His words reassure me, but it’s his kiss, soft and sensual, that truly makes me forget my fear. Without clothes between us, I can feel his hard erection pressing into my stomach and I can’t help but remember what it felt like to have him inside me. Before I realize it, I’m waist deep in the dark Pacific, Griffin’s arms firmly around me, holding me steady. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating to be in the dark ocean just beyond where the waves break. The water is still and black, and a peaceful calm surrounds us like we’re the only two people in the world.

  Griffin lowers his head to kiss me again, his lips wet and tasting faintly of salt from the ocean. My nipples, erect from both the cold air and my arousal, press into his hard chest. He runs his hands along my sides and over the curve of my hip and then back up again, crushing me to him as he deepens the kiss. When we pull apart, we’re both breathing heavily.

  “Are you ready to go back?” he asks softly.

  I nod and we silently make our way back to shore, neither of us wanting to break the mood.

  It’s cold once we’re out of the water, and Griffin uses his shirt to dry me off before slipping the hoodie over my head. I’m still shivering. Wordlessly, he scoops me up and carries me back up the beach to his house. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I snuggle closer to his warmth. I could get used to this.

  “Still cold?” he asks, setting me down on the small patio.

  I nod.

  “Come here.”

  I realize he has opened the cover of a hot tub that is tucked into the corner of the patio deck. He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m out of the hoodie and my underwear and into the hot tub in less than half a minute, sighing my pleasure as I submerge myself up to my neck in the warm water. Pausing to turn the jets on, Griffin smiles wolfishly at me as he sheds his shorts and follows me in, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I exhale as I relax back against his chest, my bottom on his lap so that I can feel him still hard beneath me. His hands find my breasts and he plucks each taut nipple. I gasp and lean further back into him. He teases me, alternately squeezing and pinching my nipples as I feel my pulse quicken. What the hell? I’m ready for him again. I have no idea how he does it, orchestrating my arousal like a master conductor.

  When I reach for his hard cock, he shifts abruptly, sliding me off of his lap.

  “Not yet. Put your hands on the edge,” he commands. My breath quickening, I obey, placing my hands on the smooth plastic edge of the tub.

  “Not there. Here.” Standing behind me, he repositions my hands so that my upper torso is out of the water. My nipples immediately pucker as the cool air caresses the wet tips. Murmuring appreciatively, Griffin tweaks them both.

  “Don’t move!” he orders, and I feel that familiar ka-thunk at his authoritative tone. Anticipation dances deliciously up my spine as I wonder what he plans to do.

  He strokes my neck and shoulders with his strong, supple fingers for several long, glorious minutes. Just as I’m starting to relax, he grips my hip with one hand, holding me still while his other hand disappears under the water. I wait, hungering for his touch between my legs. Instead of his fingers, a blast of warm water hits my mound. I moan. It’s like being kissed by thousands of bubbles. He positions me so that I am directly in line with the jet as the stream of water assaults my most private of places.

  “Oh god,” I manage.

  His hand moves between my legs and he lightly pinches the outer lips of my labia closed over my clitoris as the water from the jets vibrates around my sex, causing a pleasant thrumming sensation. Once my hips start rolling in response to the unrelenting vibration of water caressing my sex, he opens me so the water hits my clitoris full on in an avalanche of sensation.

  “Now I’m going to watch you make yourself come,” he says, his voice thick with sex and sin. “Then I’m going to bend you over and take you like I own you, so that tomorrow there’s no doubt in your mind that this night happened.”

  The idea of him watching me come, coupled with the primitive way he just described what he’s going to do to me afterwards, ignites some base need deep inside me. Surprisingly, I don’t feel self-conscious at all, maybe because I know that after this night I will never see him again. But tonight I want him to see me, exposed and vulnerable, as I shatter for his pleasure. I arch my back at the gentle but relentless pounding of the bubbling jet of water against my clitoris. The sensation builds agonizingly slowly. Impatiently, I squirm and wriggle myself against the water jet, eager to reach that sweet summit. I so desperately want to hurtle over the precipice, but at the same time I want to savor the climb.

  I look over at Griffin and dammit if he isn’t leaning back in the hot tub, stroking himself leisurely as he watches me put on a show for him. It’s a huge turn on knowing it excites him to watch me.

  I close my eyes as the water from the jet strokes me into a slow burn. My calf and thigh muscles tighten and my fingers grip the side of the tub as time slows down. In some distant corner of my mind, I’m conscious of the bubbling of the water around me. I hover, suspended, waiting for the inevitable eruption.

  “Let go, Mila,” Griffin says huskily. “Show me how you lose control.”

  His words, coupled with the unrelenting stream of water against my clitoris, are my undoing. The rush of the orgasm as I tumble over the edge hits me with such force that I think I might drown. I gasp for air as wave after wave racks my body, cresting and breaking again and again until I finally sag against the edge of the hot tub.

  Griffin is instantly by my side, his hands gathering my hair and lifting it so that he can press a kiss on the sensitive nape of my neck. I shudder.

  “Step up on the seat,” he instructs softly, and I somehow comply, even though my legs feel like jelly.

  The cool air feels good as it touches my over-heated skin. I can feel the water droplets dripping off of my body as Griffin’s hand on my upper back forces me gently forward until I am bent over, my forearms resting on the decking that surrounds the hot tub, my ass in the air. I can feel his cock between my cheeks as he rubs it up and down my crack.

  “I would love to bury my cock in your beautiful ass,” he whispers in my ear.

  My body stiffens and I unwittingly clench my cheeks together, simultaneously terrified and aroused by the idea.

  He laughs softly. “Has anyone ever taken you there?” he asks his voice low. I shake my head vehemently.

  Before I can protest that no man will ever take me there, his hand caresses my upper back and shoulders, gently massaging until I begin to relax again. I hear the rustle of the condom wrapper and then his hand is at the nape of my neck, holding me there as he positions his cock at my entrance.

  “What is it about you, Mila?” he growls in my ear. “I want to mark you and make you mine.”

  I’m not sure exactly what he’s talking about, but I want to find out. Despite the fact that I’m swollen and tender, I’m eager to feel him inside me, to claim his promise to use me so that I have no doubts tomorrow that I didn’t dream up this whole night. Arching my back slightly, I press back against his cock.

  That’s the only encouragement he needs. He drive
s into me so hard that I would have lost my balance if his hand was not still on the back of my neck, holding me steady as he pounds into me. I want to absorb every inch of him, savor every punishing thrust that makes me his, if only for tonight. As he drives into me, his other hand reaches around to my clit and I squirm to avoid his searching fingers. However, his hand on the back of my neck effectively holds me motionless, and I am powerless to do anything but accept the fingers that expertly manipulate the tender bud that has somehow grown needy again.

  It’s a powerful aphrodisiac being held down, immobilized while he takes what he wants from me, yet giving me more than I could have ever dreamed of in exchange. As he pumps into me, I push back against him as we find a rhythm that drives us both higher and higher until we reach the pinnacle together, flying over the edge into a dark oblivion lit with stars.

  “You look exhausted,” he says a little while later as we stand in his kitchen, both still stark naked, guzzling cold water bottles.

  “Thanks,” I say wryly. “That’s typically a thinly disguised way of telling a woman she looks like shit.”

  He smiles at me. “Never you, Mila. I don’t think you’re capable of looking like shit,” he says seriously. “Come here.”

  Taking my hand, he leads me up a small spiral staircase that ends in a bedroom that occupies the entire top floor of the condo. It’s amazing, surrounded by more glass windows with a huge skylight that is centered over a king-size bed. Without turning on any lights, he flips a switch on the wall and the skylight retracts, revealing the black expanse of sky sprinkled with stars.

  He pulls me down onto the bed with him and we stretch out on our backs as we stare up into the night sky.

  “This is incredible,” I say. “I would sleep with this open all the time.”

  “I do,” he says. “My job is demanding. I like to have a place to decompress when I’m home.”

  I sigh. “I’m totally jealous! My job is demanding too. Why don’t I have a condo on the beach with the stars at my fingertips?”

  “What is your job?” he asks curiously.

  I turn in his arms so I’m facing him and lean forward to nip his lips. “I’m a fugitive,” I say confidentially.

  He nips back. “You know what happens to fugitives?” he murmurs.

  “No, what?”

  His hand cups the back of my head, bringing my lips back to his.

  “They get hunted down, handcuffed, and interrogated,” he says provocatively.

  I laugh. “That has always been a fantasy of mine,” I say.

  “Really?!” His eyes light up.

  “Maybe yes, maybe no,” I tease.

  “Are you always so brave and bold, Milena?” he asks, his words a caress.

  “Of course!” I say lightly. I, too, can be perfect for one night.

  “Tell me,” he says softly, tracing my eyebrow with his finger. “What is your darkest fantasy?”

  Wanting to shock him, I try to think of the most unlikely fantasy I can.

  “Hmmmm, probably two men at the same time,” I say huskily, trailing my fingers down his chest. I look up at him, waiting for his reaction. I’m sure a man with as much testosterone as Griffin would never share a bed or a woman with another man. Surprisingly, his eyes are heated when he looks at me. Oops. Major misjudgment on my part!

  Flustered, I say, “What about you? What’s your fantasy?”

  “Spending one perfect night with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, skinny dipping in the dark ocean with her, making love to her, watching her come over and over again, and then falling asleep under the stars with her in my arms.”

  Stunned, I look at him for a moment. His eyes look serious, but he can’t possibly be. “That’s the biggest line of bullshit I’ve ever heard,” I say, laughing.

  “Maybe yes, maybe no,” he counters, his eyes unreadable. He pulls me close so my head is resting on his chest.

  Despite my most valiant attempts, my eyelids keep drooping. “I don’t want to fall asleep,” I murmur. “I still have at least an hour left before my birthday is officially over.”

  Griffin lifts my chin to kiss my pouting lips. “Go to sleep, Mila!” he commands softly, pressing my head back to his chest. He runs his fingers gently through my hair, massaging from my temples down to the nape of my neck, and within minutes I’m asleep.

  I must have slept for several hours, because when I wake up the sun is streaming through the open skylight, highlighting Griffin’s naked body sprawled next to me like a sculpture in an art gallery. He was right, I think as I sit up, carefully swinging my legs over the side of the bed so I don’t wake him. The tenderness between my thighs will guarantee that I don’t forget our night together for several days. I have never in my life made love that many times or had that many orgasms in one night.

  I look at him sleeping, and for a brief moment I wonder if what we shared last night was as sacred as it felt, if it’s possible that the only reason we can’t build something real on this night is because he really is going to be out of the country. I shake my head. Of course that’s ridiculous. He’s just another gorgeous guy who was looking to get laid on a Friday night and inadvertently gave me the most beautiful night of my life.

  At the last minute, I slip his gray hoodie into my bag to remind me of this night when the physical reminders are gone. Quietly I tiptoe down the stairs, get dressed, and walk out into the bright light of the day.

  Chapter Five

  After briefly checking in with my mother to reassure her that I had a wonderful birthday and with Olivia to reassure her that I’m still alive, I spend my Saturday sleeping, cocooned in the dark comfort of my apartment. I certainly don’t regret last night, but I’m not ready for reality to encroach on my thoughts just yet, blurring my memories. I want to relive and savor every wonderful, surreal moment.

  By Sunday, I’ve caught up on my sleep and put my night with Griffin where it belongs—firmly in the past. It was a one-night stand—sex (albeit fabulous sex) with no strings attached. I am unequivocally ready to return to reality. When Simon shows up at my apartment door with take-out, eager to dish about the gorgeous man I went home with, I’m ready to talk.

  “Alright. Spill it,” he says, settling himself on my creamy white couch and handing me a box of lo Mein. “I’m bribing you with food. I want to hear all about that sexy hunk of gorgeous from Friday night. Olivia said you went home with him, but she wouldn’t tell me anything more. Was he as gorgeous naked as he was in clothes? Was he hung? When are you going to see him again?”

  “Slow down,” I say laughing. “First, yes, he was even more gorgeous naked. Second, a girl doesn’t kiss and tell but let’s just say he was very, um, satisfying.” I laugh as Simon slumps back against my couch and fans himself. I casually grasp a bite of noodles with my chopsticks and say nonchalantly, “And I’m not going to see him again.”

  Simon chokes on his noodles. “What??!! Girl, are you crazy?”

  “It was a one-night stand, plain and simple,” I explain, setting down my take-out box. “We had this crazy sexual chemistry that we were both powerless to resist, but he was very up front about not wanting anything more than that one night. He gave me some line of bullshit about having a lot going on in his personal life and how he was going to be out of the country for an extended time, which I’m sure isn’t true. But that’s perfectly fine with me. I don’t have time for a relationship right now either. It was actually the perfect night. Amazing, mind-blowing sex with no expectations.”

  Simon rolls his eyes. “Sometimes you act like a total guy, Mila!” he huffs. He brightens. “Maybe he just says that bit about being out of the country so he doesn’t have to worry about girls wanting commitment, but then he’ll realize you’re his true love and call you.”

  “You’re such a romantic,” I groan. “For starters, I doubt I’m his true love. Did you see him? I’m sure he has women lining up at his door, all of whom are his next ‘true love.’ I have no desire to join the queue
. We had some amazing, earth-shattering sex, but we barely know each other. I don’t even know his last name! And he can’t call me because I didn’t give him my number. It was a one-night stand. Case closed.”

  “He didn’t even ask for your number?” he asks, outraged on my behalf. “Now that’s just rude. A man should at least ask for your number after he sleeps with you, even if he has no intention of calling. It’s social protocol.”

  “Calm down,” I say, laughing. “And that’s total crap. I’d rather a guy not ask for my number than give it to him and sit around waiting for him to call. But he didn’t have a chance to ask because I left while he was still asleep.”

  Simon groans. “Geez, Mila. For someone who’s brilliant, you can be really dense sometimes.”

  I give him a pointed look. “I got exactly what I wanted out of Friday night. More, in fact, because I did some things that would make you blush precisely because I knew I’d never see him again. Of course I’m not going to tell you what those things were!” I add, laughing at the look on face. I sigh. “But seriously, I don’t want him to call. I don’t want to go out with him. And I certainly don’t want to see him again. I just want to eat my lo Mein and get on with my life!”

  Simon shakes his head. “Sometimes I just don’t understand straight girls,” he says woefully.

  He stays for another hour, and we finish our Chinese take-out and watch Big Bang Theory on Netflix before I kick him out nicely. I need some sleep. Judging by Marcus’ comment before I left the office on Friday, it’s going to be a busy week.

  I hit the ground running on Monday morning. One of my corporate clients who is in the process of developing a new brand has left several frantic messages for me after attending a party over the weekend and hearing a rumor that their competition is about to launch a similar product, and I spend several hours trying to track down the legitimacy of the claim and scrambling to file paperwork protecting my client. By the time I get off the phone with the president of the company, I realize it’s almost ten o’clock and I have yet to have my first cup of coffee. I’m on my way to the kitchen to rectify the situation before someone gets hurt when I run into Marcus.