Unlocking Love

by Anya Sharpe

  “Stay there.” He comes around and opens my door, offering his hand again.

  “Ready?” I don’t move from my position next to his car.

  “I’m not going anywhere until you explain, Evan.” I’m being stubborn, and something deep in my gut warns me not to push him, because…

  The street lights cast a harsh glow over us as he steps back into my space and gazes down at me with an exasperated sigh.

  “Jesus, woman.”

  The fluttery things are back.

  Evan wraps his arms around me, pulls me into his hard body, and lays his soft, soft, lips on mine.

  Heaven. I’ve gone directly to heaven. Right here on the street. In the middle of Manhattan.

  His mouth moves against mine, exploring, opening. His tongue finds mine and tangles in a sensuous dance. I crave more. Never in my life have I been kissed like this. So purposefully. So erotically. So thoroughly. So right.

  At some point, my hands find their way around Evan’s neck, and now my fingers are stroking the curls of his collar-length dark hair. My breasts are crushed against his solid chest. With every breath, his sexy scent assaults me, arouses me. Ever hear of a woman going weak in her knees? Yep, that’s me.

  I moan into his mouth as the open palm of his big hand flattens onto my back, securing the length of my body firmly to his. His erection is hard against my belly while his other hand tangles in my hair, keeping me at the exact angle he wants as he kisses and kisses me.

  I couldn’t tell you how much time has passed. An eternity, perhaps. It doesn’t really matter because I couldn’t have broken away if I wanted to. The longer this kiss lasts, the more I want it to go on forever.

  “Jesus, woman,” he repeats as he comes up for air. “I’ve wanted to kiss you like that for months.”

  “You what?” I shouldn’t be surprised. We’ve danced around something intense since the morning after he gave me a penthouse key.

  He doesn’t answer me. He goes in for another kiss. This one, is far shorter, though.

  “Let’s go to dinner, because if we don’t, I’m going to take you back to my place and…”

  “Yes!” I say quickly. A tidal wave of awkwardness washes over me. “Dinner it is!”

  We’ve been seated. We’ve ordered our meal. The wine has been served. I’ve somewhat come to my senses. Yet, all I can do is stare at the most handsome, sexy man in the room.

  “Talk.” One word, lots of meaning.

  He sears me with an unreadable expression, and I’m melting to my core.

  “You. I’ve wanted you forever. I’m done waiting. Done being polite. Done being in the friend zone.” His bold words cut to the chase. I’m used this direct side of Evan at work. On a personal level, he’s stoked a fire.

  Is that my heart making noise? If so, I’m sure someone is going to complain about the racket.

  “I don’t know exactly what’s on your mind right now, Erynne, but you feel this thing between us, too.”

  He leans in, folding his arms on top of each other on the table as he watches for a reaction. My eyes sweep over his bared forearms where he’s rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Then track up, noting the strain of the shirt’s fabric across muscled biceps. Unconsciously licking my lips, I shift my gaze to his face, take a deep breath and a sip of wine, noticing the storm brewing in his eyes. His words, his demeanor, his sensual intensity—it’s making me shudder, my pulse race and my head spin. I can hardly breathe.

  “Erynne?” His draws me back to the present.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you feel it? The pull? The electricity?”

  “I…I…” Words escape me. I blink, trying to conjure the right thing to say to this man who is making my blood—no, every cell in my body—simmer.

  “It’s okay, Erynne. It’s very okay.” He smiles and slides a warm hand across the small table, taking hold of mine, comforting me. “See. It’s fine.”

  I nod and lightly squeeze him back.

  “Do you feel it?” He asks again, softer this time, but still burning me with his stare.

  I swallow hard. I do. My face flushes with the truth.

  “Yes.”

  The word slips out on a sigh.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Evan

  I kissed her.

  Again.

  It was worth the wait.

  But not nearly enough.

  Sweat soaks my shirt as my feet pound the hard New York pavement. I don’t even know how many miles I’ve run this morning. I started before sunrise after a frustratingly long night of tossing and turning. I used every ounce of strength not to go down one flight, bang on her door, scoop her into my arms and bring her home with me.

  After dinner, I escorted Erynne to her apartment and declined her invitation inside. She was only being polite. If I had gone in, politeness would have left the building. Seated across from her at dinner, in the car—hell, in the damned elevator—every one of my senses went on high alert. I refuse to deny my attraction to Erynne any longer. I abandoned that fight months ago. I bided my time, lingering in the friend zone for an eternity. Last night, I wasn’t waiting anymore.

  I grin, recalling how I manipulated her into having dinner with me. Her silly demand to know why I asked her out pushed me over the edge.

  I had to kiss her.

  I loved it. She loved it.

  The way she melted into me, into my arms. I can almost feel her body against mine now. So perfect.

  I round the corner, slowing my pace until I reach my building, and realize full daylight has bloomed. The streets are filling with people. I’m drenched in sweat, breathing hard, however the miles didn’t exorcise my longing for the woman on the nineteenth floor.

  Not even close.

  A hot shower soothes my aching muscles. Jerking off in the shower, on the other hand, did nothing to ease the throbbing ache consuming me. If anything, it inflamed it. After dressing in my favorite worn jeans and an old faded gray T-shirt which grips my chest and arms, I snag the bag of still-warm bagels I bought on a whim from the shop next door after my run.

  Keys and bagels in hand, I ride the elevator down one floor.

  After one buzz, she opens up, looking sleepy.

  “Hey, Ace. What’s up?” Her voice is scratchy and throaty, which is damned hot.

  Fuck. She has bedhead. Sexy as fuck bedhead. Good God, her nipples are rock hard, protruding against the thin fabric of the cream-colored camisole she slept in. My dick is happy as hell to see her and making a huge fuss in my pants. I don’t care. He’s about to get his way soon.

  I swallow hard at the sight and hold up the bag.

  “Bagels. I brought breakfast. I hope you have coffee. Did I wake you?”

  “Nope. I got up about a half-hour ago. The coffee just finished brewing. I assume you’d like a cup?” No makeup, but beautiful as any woman I’ve ever known. No. More so. I gawk at her while she moves into the kitchen, pulls mugs from the cabinet and pours out two steaming, aromatic cups. Like a puppy, I follow, startling her with my close presence when she turns to hand one to me.

  I take a sip. It’s black, and I don’t care. She peers up at me, like she’s trying to figure out some complicated equation. I’m sure she’s wondering why I’m standing here only inches away from her, staring down into her gorgeous eyes.

  “So…good morning?” She lifts a brow, and goddamn is that sexy, too.

  Fuck it.

  Every sex-fueled urge in the universe hits me at once. I slam the cup down onto the counter and bury a hand in her silky, messy hair, and wrap the other around her hip, drawing her close. Her body is up pressed to mine, right where it belongs, and I seal my lips to hers with the intention of keeping them there for as long as possible. Forever might be nice.

  Almost reluctantly, her hands slide along my arms, pausing to grip my biceps before continuing a path to my shoulders and neck.

  In seconds, we’re both moaning, tasting, touching.

  “Jesus, E
rynne. I want you.” I’m breathless. I don’t want to stop. I’m ready to explode with desire for her. “No, I need you. Please. Please, let me have you. Now.”

  She leans back slightly and gazes up at me for a moment, before whispering, “Yes,” and returning her lips to mine, matching my neediness.

  I don’t hesitate. I lift her into my arms, breathing her in as I move to the bedroom, where I set her on her feet. My hand tilts her chin so our eyes lock.

  “Are you sure? Absolutely sure?” God, I hope so. If she says no now I may jump off the roof or something. A bit of indecision plays on her face. She’s breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling against mine. After blinking several times, she squeezes her eyes shut tight for a fraction of a second. Then…

  “I’m totally sure. Are you?”

  Her question is so ridiculous, I’m ready to fucking laugh out loud. “Ten thousand percent, sweetheart.”

  My fingertips settle on her hips and drag the hem of the camisole upward. Her soft skin—even on the very tips of my fingers—drives me insane. I’m seconds away from exploring her beautiful body for the first time, and the thought sends chills radiating through me.

  Eyes locked on hers, I slide the shirt up and over her head without yet peeking. Instead, I allow my hands to graze the sides of her generous breasts, my thumbs finding their target and rolling over hardened little nipples. The best sensation ever.

  Erynne lets a sexy moan escape and leans back. “Oh, God, Evan…”

  I can’t tell you how fucking happy those few words make me and how I’ve longed to hear her utter them.

  My gaze drops. All I can do is draw in a breath, because her tits are goddamned perfect. I take one nipple into my mouth and suck hard. Deliciousness. As she groans, I lick and soothe before moving on to the other.

  “Jesus, Erynne, you are gorgeous. Every single inch of you,” I manage to rasp out. The blush on her cheeks deepens at the compliment. “I want your skin on mine.” I yank the T-shirt over my head and throw it behind me somewhere.

  “Whoa!”

  “What, sweetheart?”

  “Um, tattoos?” She runs her delicate hands over the black tribal ink circling a bicep and mumbles something about muscles rivaling a body builder’s. Her other hand explores one of a similar pattern covering the pec over my heart and glides onto my shoulder and the very top of my arm.

  “Holy crap, Evan. Talk about keeping things under wraps.” Her fingers graze and trace the work. I’ve never had a woman explore my body so reverently, so intimately. She glances up at me as her hands slip lower, toward the waist of my jeans, as if asking permission to continue. “Is there more?”

  “Yeah. Some.” I nod, giving her the permission she wanted.

  She undoes the button and zipper, carefully folding back the placket. I, uh, neglected to bother with boxer briefs in my haste to bring her breakfast, so I grin at her discovery of my commando state.

  “A snake?” At first, I think she’s talking about what’s below the waistband, until I realize she’s still stroking my tats.

  “More like a dragon.” She pushes the jeans down a few inches for a better view of the, ahem, artwork. Then she pokes one finger on the tip of the dragon’s tail which curls over my right hip, and maps the path winding across my lower abdomen. She shifts around my left side and follows the trail to my low back where the creature opens up its wings in full color. She clears her throat.

  “Well. The things we find out about people we work with.”

  The tension is too much. I bust out laughing, spin around and pull her into me.

  Describe the sensation of her tits, her flesh, on mine? Nope. Can’t do it. All I know is I want the rest of her pressed against me. I kiss her, and she tastes wonderful. Then, I drag her thin, flannel pajama bottoms down, down, down, taking with them a pair of black lace panties I’d spend time admiring any other day. My mouth moves from hers, along her throat, between her stunning breasts, across her belly and now I’m nibbling and licking at her hip. Her delicate floral scent mingles with her arousal, driving me closer to insanity. And those fucking beautiful soft sounds she is making? Oh, hell. Fuck me.

  Oh, have I mentioned I’m still rock hard? The jeans I’m kneeling in are strangling me, feeding my impatience with the whole process of removing clothes, as much as I am enjoying unwrapping her.

  One foot at a time, I lift her feet and slip off the pajama bottoms.

  If you’d asked me ten minutes earlier, I would have said we’d be having, hot, frantic sex by now. Somewhere in the background of my imagination the image is playing on a loop. In real time, the whole experience has slowed down, becoming deeply intimate and meaningful. My cock pounds against the coarse denim of my pants, eager to get the party started, while a lump in my chest expands, telling me this is a whole different ballgame. This is more than a casual booty-call. Way more.

  “Evan.” She breathes out as her hands slip inside my jeans, her palms pressed against my hot skin, easing them off my hips to my thighs, finally freeing me from my prison. It’s her turn to move to her knees as she drags my pants lower.

  Holy shit.

  Her hot tongue traces my rigid length from the soft tip to the root. Once. I could just about shoot my load right now, but with gritted teeth I manage to hold back, grasping her face to stop her.

  “Good God, woman. You nearly undid me.” Erynne grins, and I lift her, gently pushing her onto the bed. I discard both my shoes and the pants now bunched around my ankles.

  “You complaining?”

  “Ooh, you’re a saucy wench, aren’t you?” I remove a condom from my wallet before tossing the jeans aside. Next, hands on her shoulders, I center her on the unmade bed which smells so much like her. A quick peek affirms what I already knew. She’s stunning. Trailing my fingers up her thighs to her torso and breasts, the rest of me follows until our bodies are aligned, skin to skin.

  “Holy hell, this is too good.” I whisper into her ear, which I begin to lick and nip. My cock is happily tucked up against her pussy, and I’m pretty sure this what heaven is like, because I am there. Our lips meet and tongues tangle in a sweet, heady dance. Inside my chest, my heart and pulse beat frantically.

  “Evan, I love the weight of your body on top of mine.” Her words are spoken with a throaty moan as her silky hands explore the hardness of my back, moving lower to caress my ass. She brings her legs up and ropes her ankles around my thick thighs.

  I’m desperate to slip inside and experience the heat of her warmth wrapped around me. Instead, I continue to make love to her whole body, licking and biting at her nipples, skimming a hand to her core and teasing her clit with one finger. She arches into me with a groan.

  “Hell. You are so wet and ready, Erynne. I can’t wait.”

  “Don’t. I want you. Now.”

  “Not yet.”

  I roll my finger across her clit, making her pant and moan harder. Erynne in this state of ecstasy is a glorious vision. Next, I slide a finger in and out of her heat a few times before adding another, the whole time watching her reaction. She’s lost in the lust.

  “Oh, God, Evan. So good.”

  Perhaps. But not good enough. I move lower, allowing my tongue to stroke her as I finger-fuck her, increasing the intensity. Her response is instantaneous.

  “Oh…Oh…I’m gonna…” she can’t even finish her sentence when the orgasm overtakes her with force, and she’s contracting like a vice around my fingers.

  Never in my life has a woman been so fucking gorgeous when she comes than right this minute. My cock twitches with desire.

  As she eases down from her climax, I fit the condom on my aching length. The need to be buried inside her is consuming. No more hesitation. I line my cock at her entrance and push in, slowly at first, and then thrust to the hilt.

  “Fuck, Erynne. This is so fucking amazing.” I groan. How did I wait so long for this? I take a second then move. Once again, she wraps her legs around me, and I begin a vicious rhythm o
f pumping hard and fast. I’m out of control. She’s making me crazy.

  “Oh, no…I can’t believe it…again! Oh…” She’s breathlessly spitting out words, trying to tell me something.

  “Come for me, Erynne. Yeah. Do it.” I order her, trying to hold myself back for a few more seconds, because I’m dying to watch her come while I thrust into her like a madman.

  “Yeeessss!”

  She does. I follow her, my dick throbbing harder than ever as I release for what seems like minutes.

  We’re a sweaty mess when I collapse on top of her, attempting to put some weight on my shaking forearms so I don’t crush her. We gasp for air. Her heart pounds recklessly against my damp chest.

  “That was the best damned sex ever.” It’s the truth.

  “Um, I might just agree with you, Ace,” she says, when she’s able to speak again.

  Fuck yeah! Better than Dickhead.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Erynne

  “If you stir that coffee any longer, you’re going to wear a hole in the bottom of the cup, you know.” Maya sips her cappuccino.

  I remove the plastic stirrer and bring the paper cup to my lips, taking a cautious taste.

  “Are you going to spill? Or are we playing Twenty Questions this morning?”

  “The coffee is good.” I peek up at her.

  Maya laughs. “Are you serious?”

  A slight grin plays on my mouth in response. “We did it.” The words tumble out in a hush.

  “Who did what?” She’s giving me a wary, squinty-eyed look that tells me she knows, but wants to hear me say it. I might as well be confessing sins to my mother. Awkward.

  “Um…Evan and I…” I peer at her self-consciously, using the need for another sip of coffee to postpone the rest of my admission. Maya’s mouth hangs open.

  “You and Evan what?”

  “We…um. We…” Hey, I’ve never actually studied the decor in the coffee shop, I realize as I glance around us. Interesting.

  “Dammit, Erynne! Focus! Did you sleep with Evan?” She hisses, leaning forward over the table with both hands flat on the surface.