by Taryn Quinn
Her eyes smarted. Waterworks on the way, right on schedule. “Then? You’re hesitating. I feel it.”
“You’re pregnant and it’s been a long time for me. I don’t want to rut into you like an animal.” He inhaled a ragged breath. “Hurting you would kill me, Ang.”
Tears spilled, and she didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. He knew her almost as well as she knew herself, which pushed him realms away from most of the men in her past. He wasn’t a good-time guy. This one here was the real deal, and if they had sex, she’d be giving him more reign over her life than she’d ever given anyone else. More reign over her. Her halfhearted, rarely acknowledged crush would be shoved right into prime time. He could bruise her without ever uttering a harsh word or using a rough hand.
Pete’s words resounded in her head. “You don’t really think you can land a fish like him, do you? I mean, we’re talking impossible under normal circumstances, but when you’re knocked up and barely employed and sleeping on friends’ couches to avoid going home? Sorry, not happening.”
“There’s another problem,” he murmured, feathering his thumb over her belly.
She tried to swallow. “I’m experienced, yes, but I was always careful. I’m clean. Safe. We can still use a condom if it would make you feel better.”
“You don’t know about my sexual history, so it’s about protecting both of us.”
“Fine. Condom it is.” It was the smart thing to do. Still, she couldn’t help sounding flippant. “I’m open to it.”
“As I’m open to experiencing you without anything between us. I’m clean as well. But safe?” That muscle along his jaw ticked again. “You’re the exact opposite of safe, Thumbelina.” He winced. “I wasn’t supposed to call you that now, was I?”
“It’s okay.”
“The possibility of disease wasn’t what I was referring to in any case.”
So he thought she wasn’t safe. Yeah, well, he could get in line. She could claim the same about him. But at least he’d never been anything but honest, other than that questionable situation with his ex. Still, though, that was small fries. She had no right to worry about him somehow treading on her feelings when she was the liar. The one who hadn’t been nearly grateful enough for his help, because she’d been too focused on proving to everyone that she could provide for herself and her baby on her own.
Add in her hormones and the absolute chaos her life had become since she’d peed on those seven sticks, and she’d been in a whirlwind of crazy for the last several months.
But she could still turn this ship around. An opportunity existed for her to get to know Sterling better, at the very least. Tonight would be a beginning. Of what, she wasn’t sure. That didn’t mean she should close herself down out of fear and remorse. She could still fix this situation. Even the lies she’d told.
“What were you referring to then?” she asked.
He inhaled deeply. “I don’t think I’ve ever truly…fucked anyone. It’s all been so much more civilized than that.”
Her own smile took her by surprise. “Classical music and silk sheets?”
“More often than not.” His thumb dipped into her navel, and she suppressed a gasp at the flare of pleasure in her core. “But with you, it wouldn’t be that either. It couldn’t be just sex.”
Oh God, she was shaking now. Inside and out, so that she knew her voice would wobble when she finally gathered enough air to form words. “No?”
“No. With you, it would be making love. For a very long time, and in potentially awkward positions so that I don’t crush your baby.”
Awkward positions sounded like this side of heaven to her. “You won’t. Sex is perfectly fine.”
“I know. I’ve done the required reading.” His mouth curved at her raised eyebrow. “I’ve gotten up to chapter fifteen in What To Expect When You’re Expecting. I’ve found it surprisingly enjoyable.”
“I wouldn’t know,” she said, wondering how she could be getting progressively more turned on during a conversation about sex terminology and pregnancy. But the insistent throb between her thighs bordered on manic. “I haven’t read it yet.”
“Intercourse is acceptable all the way through, and sometimes even useful in provoking delivery, but I do have my personal dictates.” His thumb slipped lower to rub just above her mound. “And they include you riding me and me entering you from behind and also possibly a reverse cowgirl that I’ve never tried but looks positively fasci—”
She grabbed his jaw and hauled his mouth to hers, effectively cutting him off with a crushing kiss. “Take me, Sterling. Every which way.”
Chapter Seven
He could make kissing her his life’s work. Two lifetimes of it would never be enough.
If only he could get undressed without separating from her for even an instant…
Sterling cupped her face then finally drew away, his gaze devouring hers as he undid his shirt. She tracked each move, each patch of skin revealed. He tugged out his shirttails and shrugged the material off his shoulders, stopping at her startled squeak. “What?”
“Your body… God, you weren’t lying about being fit enough to be a bodyguard.”
He shouldn’t puff up like a peacock. It wasn’t attractive. “I take martial arts. I swim. I run.”
“I believe it.” Her large gray eyes widened even more. “Holy crap, you have ink.”
Idly, he traced his compass tattoo. “Yes. I do.”
She climbed off the bed and traced her fingers over his chest. “I’m shocked.”
“That explains the gaping mouth and huge eyes.” He kissed her temple.
“Why a compass?”
It took him longer to answer than he would’ve liked. “I’ve seen too many people get caught up in the wrong thing for what they say is the right reasons. I never wanted to delude myself. There is one true north, and certain responsibilities go along with that.”
Her fingers continued to stroke. “Like what?”
“Being honest at all costs.” Hard to say, especially now that he’d broken his own vow. “Having integrity. Thinking about others before yourself. Never taking a shortcut if the detour will cause another pain or difficulty.” He let out a dry laugh. “You can stop me anytime.”
She shot him a look ripe with speculation. “Some of us aren’t nearly so honorable. We make mistakes.”
“I never said I didn’t make mistakes.” He’d already made several when it came to Ang, ones he’d already dwelled on plenty and would probably revisit again soon. “But this compass reminds me of my ethics when I want to forget them. Speaking of forgetting…” He finished undressing, then circled her small waist with his arm and nibbled her ear. The four or five stud earrings she wore clinked against his teeth. “Let’s forget to talk for a while.”
She shivered and placed her palm over his heart, encompassing his tattoo. “Okay.”
It felt so natural to lift her up and draw her on top of him as he lay down on the bed. She fell over him, her body soft and her hair fragrant with the raspberry shampoo that never failed to trip his wires. So sexy. Almost as sexy as the dark, wispy curls that bloomed between her thighs.
God, he loved that she wasn’t bare. It matched her earthy, no holds barred personality. He debated hauling her over his face so he could pleasure her that way once more. She’d trickle right into his mouth, impossibly sweet.
Like a miracle, her legs parted so that his every action brought her slick sex in direct contact with his length. Unreal. He’d never go without sex this long again. Those months of denial had to account for the unexpected hunger seizing him with every brush of her flesh.
She grazed her finger over his lower lip, following it with teasing laps of her tongue. Darting out, slipping away. Touching briefly against his before retreating and leaving him hard and horny in a way he couldn’t ever remember being. He hadn’t fucked in the past, but with the subtle undulations of her hips and the dancing lights in her eyes, she would make him break all of his
rules. Gleefully.
Her mouth skimmed across his cheek to his ear. “I want to suck you off.”
He shuddered. Christ, she was delicious. His hand scraped over the high curve of her butt, slipping down between her cheeks to the molten cleft beneath. Dipping one finger inside that hot well, he swirled it around, delighting in her pants against his cheek. “What happened to me filling you up?” He slid another finger inside, pumping them with a swivel that made her gasp and squirm on top of him.
“Can’t you…just not come?”
“I’m not certain of that, no. I think if you breathed on me right now, I’d lose it.”
She chuckled and blew lightly into his ear. “Liar.”
“Try that lower and see.”
“Okay.”
Before he could take back the suggestion, she wiggled over him, bracing her hands on the mattress on either side of his ribs. She arched her back, beautiful breasts swaying, and he had to shut his eyes from the sensory overload. Magnificent seemed like too paltry a word to describe her.
Her mouth closed over the tip of his cock at the same time her fingers squeezed around the base. The contrast in sensations practically made him explode.
His shoulders lurched off the bed. “Jesus. Ang.”
She didn’t answer. Her lips slid down his shaft, taking more of him in an easy glide that drew his balls up nice and tight. She slipped her other hand between his legs, but rather than gripping his sac, she lightly scraped her nails along his flesh. So slow. Blinding heat flashed into him, stealing the shreds of his already flagging control. He wound his hand in her hair to anchor himself, though the appreciative sound she made in her throat caused him to wonder if she liked being dominated.
Testing his theory, he pulled gently, and she made the noise again, the sound vibrating along his swollen length. And she sank lower, her mouth engulfing more of his cock. As her nails feathered over his balls, she hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard. His spine locked, the pressure building to the crisis point so swiftly that he barely had time to yank her up before he let go. Her teeth skimmed the head of his erection as she pulled back, but it only increased his urgency.
She licked her lips and eyed him, her dark, silky hair tumbling across her cheek. “Next time I won’t let you stop me.”
Next time. So this wouldn’t be a one-off. Thank God. He hadn’t dared hope, hadn’t even known if he should. There were so many reasons why going to bed together wasn’t right.
But that didn’t mean it was wrong.
“Next time I won’t try.” He held out his hand, and she took it with a trust that awed him. For all the ways he was suspicious, she was honest and open. Free in a manner he’d never been.
Straddling him again, she reached up with her other hand and toyed with her breasts, shyly at first, then with growing confidence as his extremely obvious approval barometer rose even higher between them. Her nipples beaded the more she plucked, turning rosy. Berries he craved to taste.
Reading his mind, she planted her hand on his chest and leaned forward, dangling that succulent fruit right above his mouth. “You know you want to,” she whispered, and damn if she wasn’t right.
He bowed up and seized his target, drawing one taut peak between his teeth. Tugging at her sharp, frenzied moan. She teased his cock with her wet heat, making it bob helplessly. Drops of fluid splashed his stomach, scalding his skin, and she only rubbed harder to coax out more.
Clenching her hand in his, he leaned up and took more of her breast, pulling it deep. She moaned and tossed her head, showing off her long neck and alabaster shoulders. Her body rocked over his, daring him to keep up, driving him to madness though they weren’t yet joined. She moved with such intrinsic sexuality that he found his gaze drawn to the mirror, hoping he’d get a glimpse of her gorgeous ass while it bounced.
Opening the closet door had been an impulse, but moving outside of his comfort zone had worked well so far. Watching her chest heave in the glass while he licked and bit her lovely breasts might be enough to make him come all by itself.
He turned his head, studying the erotic arch of her body in the mirror. Blue and silver flashed along her back, with a hint of green. Involuntarily, he sucked harder, eliciting her moan. She shifted, offering him one startling look at the small flower tattoo that graced her shoulder blade.
A lotus. Vines. And that one word he hadn’t quite been able to make out in the picture, but saw vividly now.
Pete. She’d tattooed that bastard’s name on her body. Carrying his baby wasn’t enough. She’d felt the need to imprint him on herself in an even more permanent way.
Shock flared before a dull certainty settled in his gut. Something had told him to press GothGeek to reveal more of herself. His private investigator’s instincts had proven right once again.
Goddammit, GothGeek was Ang.
How could she? Why had she? She’d taken a picture of herself, for pity’s sake—
His gut tightened. Obviously Ang had taken the picture not expecting them to ever be in this position.
The position where her full, gorgeous breast was in his mouth and her sweet slit teased his cock.
“Some of us aren’t nearly so honorable. We make mistakes.”
Anger and something far darker rose inside him, obliterating everything but the need to possess. Though she’d lied and played games for reasons he didn’t understand, that didn’t change how much he wanted her. She’d nursed his passion until it kindled hot and sharp, and now he’d burn through the fury she’d left in its wake.
He let go of her nipple with an audible pop and released her hand to grab hold of her waist. Sometimes he wasn’t honorable either. He knew she’d lied, yet he couldn’t turn off the desire she’d sparked. Wouldn’t until he’d taken his fill.
Spreading her thighs, he drove upward, impaling her in one brutal thrust. Her scream broke over him like the waves at sea and he stilled, fearing he’d caused her harm. She started to move over him before he could ask, her breasts jiggling in his face. He couldn’t resist kissing any part of her he could reach.
Couldn’t resist her. Not even now.
She grasped him in a wet fist, bathing him in her damp heat, and he started stroking into her in a mindless, primal rhythm. Sex had always been about a quick release more than building a connection, more even than chasing pleasure. But this exceeded his previous experiences by miles. Despite his tangled emotions—or maybe because of them—his body had taken the wheel, pushing him to pump into her in hard, steady thrusts while she squeezed around him and breathed hotly in his ear.
“Do you like the way my pussy feels around you?”
Jesus. He didn’t answer. Was he supposed to?
She did something deep inside that scrambled his remaining brain cells. Flexing her walls so that they cupped him in a velvet grip. “Oh, your dick feels so good. You’re so big and hard and I love it.” She bit his earlobe, a white-hot spurt of pain, and rode him faster. “Stretch me open. Just like that, baby.”
He wasn’t sure if he was stretching her the way she preferred, but he drove into her at a pace that dripped sweat into his eyes. His vision blurred entirely as she bowed back and linked her arms behind her head, showcasing her curvy body to maximum advantage while she mastered his cock. There was no other phrase that fit.
God, he’d never seen anything more arousing in his life.
As much as he liked the view, he arched up to seize her breast again, desperate to brand her skin with those rough pink marks from his teeth. It was a pathetic comparison to the name emblazoned on her back, but he couldn’t stop himself. He twisted her nipple until she screamed again—and shot over the peak with a scalding rush of liquid pleasure that nearly brought him along for the ride.
He growled against her flesh, twisting harder, bringing his knees up to change the angle so that he could embed himself even deeper. He couldn’t get inside her far enough. She gasped and called out his name, the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
; His name. Sterling. Not something inane like S-quared. Not Pete.
With her voice ringing in his ear and her nipple pressed tight to his tongue, he finally bottomed out inside her. He couldn’t hold back his shout as the climax claimed him, so hard that his spine threatened to split through his skin. He emptied himself in wild, jerky spasms, more powerful than anything he’d known before.
He’d never felt more alive than in that instant.
Or more conflicted when she slumped boneless against his chest, her tangled hair fanning across his lips.
Something was wrong.
Ang couldn’t put her finger on the problem, but at some point during their interlude—which had shifted rapidly from making love to full-out fucking, a change she didn’t mind in the slightest—playful, attentive Sterling disappeared. Vanished without a trace.
The new incarnation sported a perma-frown that hadn’t lessened by the next morning when they met up in the kitchen. He had also lapsed into his now-familiar silence.
Since they’d had sex in the middle of the afternoon, it wasn’t like she’d expected him to tuck her into his bed. Or to feed her warm croissants and fresh berries for breakfast the following day. But yeah, she had kind of planned on sleeping in his room that night, if only for the easy access to more blow-the-motherfucking-roof-off sex. A cuddle or two from those strong arms and a chance to doze on that ridiculously firm chest would have been a bonus.
What she hadn’t expected was for Sterling to pull out of her, roll over and pick up his pants. He’d cited sudden pressing work concerns and asked she remain home for another hour or two until his package arrived. Then he’d driven away without saying so much as “Sayonara, sister.”
She’d tried not to dwell. The man wasn’t typical in any sense of the word, so perhaps something that turned her crank had flipped his off. Like, oh, the dirty talk.
She flushed, remembering. So she liked saying explicit stuff in bed. Should she have warned him? Maybe cleaned up her language a bit for sensitive ears?