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Conflicted on 5th: A 5th Avenue Romance Novel, Book One (5th Avenue Romance Series 1)

Page 14

by Abbie St. Claire


  “You never mention your family.”

  “Nothing exciting to tell. My mother treated Olivia horribly, so I supported my wife and told my mom to take a hike. With my relationship already strained with my father, it was easy just to walk away. We call each other maybe three or four times a year, and they send Oliver and me cards on holidays and birthdays. Oliver barely knows them.”

  “I’m really sorry. My mom and I were very tight. She didn’t like Carson, but she supported me in my decisions, and I’m grateful they tolerated each other. I wish she’d known Ty longer. They would’ve been so close.”

  I hadn’t realized it, but as we talked, the time slipped away so quickly. When the bartender announced last call for the wine room, Ian stood and extended his hand.

  “Dance with me before we go.”

  It felt natural and safe in his arms. For the first time since being at the spa, I was completely relaxed and content. With my hand in his, my head found its place against his shoulder. We fit together perfectly.

  The song ended way too soon. The minute he pulled away from me, I felt the cloud of distance enhance way too much. I knew it had something to do with discussing his family that brought his mood to a somber level, but I wasn’t sure how to reel him back in.

  He was quiet on the short drive home. When he parked in front of my house, I realized it was his way of telling me he wasn’t staying the night; otherwise, he would have put his car in my garage or even his and walked down.

  “Are we making cookies?” I wasn’t ready to open the car door and leave him.

  He was staring forward through the windshield. “Not tonight.” The heater was on, but the chill around me was from him.

  “Do you want to come in for a glass of wine?”

  He finally faced me and took my hand in his. “Why do you want me to come in, Chelsie?”

  My sigh was audible through the extreme thickness of the air surrounding us. “Because I’m not ready for you to leave and…”

  He lifted my chin with one long, sexy finger. “And what?” His tone was sharp and almost demanding.

  “And I, uhm…I don’t know.”

  He stared at me sternly. “Yes, you do. Say it, Chelsie. Say what you desire. Ask for what you crave so badly.”

  My mouth went dry. I inhaled deeply. Then I released my words with my breath. “I want to be with you tonight. All night.”

  His kiss was hard and wanting. He’d been waiting for me to make the move. He needed me to confirm how I felt about us being together—needed me to ask.

  When he pulled away and started the car, I didn’t know what he was doing. I was still focused on the stinging of my lips and the wetness between my legs. Amazing how one was connected to the other.

  Ian raced the car to the stop sign and barely slowed going through it. With jerky motions, he pulled the car down the alley behind our homes and turned into my rear-drive.

  I didn’t wait for him to open the car door. I got out and punched in the code to open the garage, so he could park beside my car.

  Excitement was ripping apart every cell of my body.

  I dashed to the kitchen to open a chilled bottle.

  “Pour one for me.” His voice husky was behind me.

  Still turned away from him, I took two glasses from the cabinet and tore the foil seal off the wine. Before I could pop the cork, strong hands came around my waist.

  He kissed my neck sweetly at the sensitive spot right before my shoulder. I leaned my head back to give him more access as he continued to bite in between the connection of his moist lips to my stimulated skin.. One of his hands slid up my blouse, cupping my left breast before pulling at my nipple. My breaths were coming quicker.

  “What do you want?” he murmured against my stinging flesh.

  “You,” I whispered.

  “Tell me what you want. Ask for it. Describe it.” His voice was commanding.

  The blush of my timid nature exposed me. I’d never asked for anything of the sexual nature, taking only what was given to me.

  “I don’t know, surprise me.”

  The connection disappeared when he quickly pulled away, turning me to face him. His hair had been fastened into a ponytail, and his lips were candy-apple red, wearing remnants of my lipstick from our kiss in the car.

  Kiss me, fuck me hard—my mind flooded foolishly and very dirty.

  I studied the desiring look radiating from his eyes. They were waiting me out—anticipating my requests.

  My mind was held hostage by the million thoughts darting through it, and my voice was buried by the thunderous pulsations of blood flowing through my veins. I was paralyzed.

  Suddenly, he gripped my hand tightly with his, while he led me to the bedroom.

  Yes, he was reading my mind. But when he pushed me against the wall just inside my bedroom in an aggressive move, the sensual cloud lifted from me, and he had my full attention. His feral glare stared into mine, boldly declaring his arousal.

  Actions speak louder than words, and while he wasn’t speaking, he was telling me everything I wanted to know. He needed me as desperately as I craved him.

  Pinned against the wall with my hands above my head in the tight grip of his, I was at his delicious mercy.

  With his lips less than an inch from my ear, he whispered, “Describe to me what it is you desire.”

  Fuck me.

  I swallowed. His heated breath penetrated the flesh of my exposed neck. Tilting his body backwards gave him room to watch me… And wait.

  Shut the front door. He wasn’t kidding. He was waiting me out.

  “I’ve never done this before.” My voice was a slight murmur.

  “You’ve had plenty of sex. Surely, you know what feels good or what you like.” He smirked.

  No, make that taunted, and in some kinky way, I was enjoying it as much as he was.

  With his encouragement, I was exploring and finding my inner self—uncovering my voice and discovering my sexual freedom.

  “I want you to fuck me. Hard, fast, slow, and long. I want to be tied up like last time. Only this time, don’t cover my eyes. I want to watch. Is that what you need to hear?”

  “No, dammit. I want you to tell me what feels good. Describe the sensations when I’m between your legs and what’s essential for me to do to make you feel that good again.” He let go of my hands and took several steps backwards until his legs were against the bed. He sat and opened his arms wide, expressing his desire to hold me.

  In the comfort of his embrace, I shattered.

  “You aren’t a sex object, honey. Don’t ever ask a man to fuck you because he will, and it will always be for himself. Tell a man you desire to be pleasured, and he will do so, as you direct, giving you more satisfaction than you ever dreamed of.”

  His strong arms gripped my body tightly, while I melted into him. Every breath brought his spicy scent through my nostrils, stirring desire within me, and forever marking my mind with all that was Ian.

  “The orgasm you gave me with your mouth… I can’t explain to you how sinfully good that felt, and I want you to do it again. The way you nipped and bit before you sucked my clit left me in sensory overload. The ice, wax, and massage oils… I can still imagine the delicate sensations on my skin. So much so, that I bought new oils today.”

  He pushed me forward and stared into my eyes. “You bought oils? Today? That’s where you were?”

  Sheepishly, I grinned.

  “Show me.”

  I stood and opened the drawer, pulling out the boxes of treats from my earlier shopping trip. Unsure if I’d done the right thing, I nervously chewed my lower lip.

  The sinful smile spreading across his face answered my question.

  Slowly, he slid his hands under my blouse and caressed my breasts, tugging on my peaked nipples through the silky layer of my bra. My eyes were closed, but my hands found his hair, and I laced my fingers within the lengths.

  Soon, the blouse and bra hit the floor. Next, the skirt
dropped around my ankles. I opened my eyes and watched him dip his head, so his nose was between the juncture of my thighs.

  So fucking hot.

  He didn’t move his head, but he slipped his thumbs into the edge of my silk panties and tugged them down, exposing me completely to him.

  “Spread your legs.” His tone was stimulating beyond explanation.

  I did as he asked, still gripping his hair for stability.

  He held my ass with both of his hands, while his face was buried between my thighs. My shoes were still on, keeping me at the perfect height as he sat in front of me.

  One quick lick followed by a little bite caused the muscles of my sex to flinch.

  “Ian, yes,” I cried out.

  “Tell me what to do. Direct me.” His voice was low and sultry. Freakin’ erotic. How did he know how to make every moment sexy and so different?

  “Suck me with your finger inside me, please.”

  With his middle finger slowly stroking my interior wall, he circled my clit with his lips and sucked with delicate pressure that sent me over the edge. While I came, he continued to stimulate me with his thumb and finger until I stopped shaking.

  I whimpered. As hard as I tried to stifle my noise, it slipped out.

  “Don’t hold back, baby. There’s no one here, but us. Let yourself go tonight.”

  He stood and kissed me, hungry with his desire. I tasted the tang of my arousal on his tongue. In the past, that would’ve been something I might’ve disliked, but with Ian it was so sensual I craved it.

  I lay on the bed and watched as he slowly undressed. His erection sprang forward when his boxers dropped below his hips. The moment I found my gaze on it, I knew how good he was going to make me feel.

  “Everything okay?”

  Sleepy and sated from my climax, I murmured. “Hmm uhm.”

  He stroked my thigh. “Find some energy, baby. We’re far from done.”

  I scooted off the mattress and pulled the silky bedding back. It was my first start-over purchase after the divorce.

  The handmade tufted headboard caught my eye, and I wondered how Ian could tie me up, since it was a big board nailed to the wall.

  I slid between the sheets and scooted up to his side of the bed.

  He got in beside me and pulled me under his arm. “Whatcha thinking about?”

  My lip rested between my teeth as I chewed the corner for a moment before deciding to ask for what I wanted, and I went for it. “I want you to tie me up and,” I pointed to the headboard, “I’m not sure how you’ll do it.”

  “Don’t worry your pretty head about that. I won’t need the bed.”

  Ian always kept me guessing, which I knew was just part of his make-up in regards to everything. When he started kissing me sweetly, I knew he had taken the lead back, and I was happy about that.

  He’d told me to let myself go, and that’s exactly what I did. I let myself go, enjoying everything he had to give. He continued to ask directions and made me discover myself in ways I never knew.

  The night was a sexual coming-of-age for me and definitely an overdue experience that we shared between us. We each gave as much as we took, and I asked him to direct me in the same manner, as I pleasured him.

  Chapter 22

  Ian

  Having Chelsie in my arms as the sun peeked through the edge of the curtains was a complete surprise. Other than our dinner and dessert destinations, I hadn’t planned on anything else happening, unless she instigated it.

  As she slept peacefully, I reflected on the last twelve hours. Showing her how to take charge of her own sexual desires had been so erotic. Chelsie hadn’t known she would be a willing student, but over the course of the night, she discovered how to command her own pleasure. She also learned she wasn’t an object to be tossed around. Independence in the bedroom would never be the same for her.

  “What are you smiling about?” Her sleepy little voice was a bit croaky.

  I brushed the hair from her eyes. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

  “Yes, really deep. You didn’t answer my question. What’s got you all happy?”

  “Just thinking about last night. It pleased me to see you so sated and to know you’ve become comfortable in claiming your sexuality.”

  She rose up and sat beside me on the bed, her naked curves voluptuous and beautiful. She didn’t try to hide them; she’d learned how being carefree gave her power.

  “I’m getting a shower, and I want you to join me. I don’t think we’re done.” She finished with a finger between her teeth, an indication she was asking a question and not trying to have control, but I took it as a full-blown tease.

  “No, sunshine, we are far from done; however, we’re all out of condoms, unless you have some.”

  She shook her naughty little head in almost a pout.

  Actually, I was grateful she didn’t. It meant she hadn’t thought about being intimate with someone else.

  I got out of bed and picked up my jeans.

  She turned to me and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Hey, I just asked for what I wanted, and you’re leaving?” Oh, the tigress was ready to roar.

  I soothed her cheek with my palm before whispering against her lips. “Condoms at the Exxon on the corner. Be right back.”

  “The code is 4229, let yourself back in.”

  I returned within minutes and heard the water running in her bathroom, but she was nowhere in sight. The kitchen was empty and so was the den. Then I heard her singing, “You’re gonna hear me roar,” about as off key as possible. The sound was coming from the laundry room.

  Rounding the corner, I found her completely naked body with her back to me, folding laundry and singing with her wireless earbuds in. I leaned against the doorway and watched, enjoying the view way too much, in all honesty, while she danced and sang along to her iPod.

  A carefree spirit was in front of me. My goal for the weekend had been met. The next item on the agenda was to grant her request for the sensual shower and afterwards, get her fed.

  I moved in closer in hopes she would turn and see me without startle. When she didn’t, I reached around her waist to her loud squeal.

  “Ian, you’re back, so quick.” She slipped her earbuds off.

  “Not really, I’ve been back for a few minutes, just enjoying the show, the naked housewives of Dallas County.” I laughed; she didn’t.

  “Really?”

  I gave it back to her. “I’m all for watching a hot woman do laundry naked. People would definitely watch. I think we should pitch it to Bravo.”

  She slapped my arm. “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “No, but I’m about to lose myself in you.”

  I whisked her up in my arms and carried her to the running shower. My cock was rock hard against the seam of my jeans, and a few short hours remained until we had to become parents again. I sought to enjoy being with her while her mind was absolved from all worry—while she was free like a butterfly to spread her wings and land wherever she may.

  She jumped in while I stripped and applied a condom. I slid my fingers into her sweet tightness and smiled. I loved how wet and ready she was for me. Without thinking about how she would take it, I brought my fingers to my mouth and sucked them. Her eyes lit up.

  “So damn wet for me, and you taste so sweet I can’t help myself.”

  Her smile was coy. “Then fill me up, bad boy, and make me yours. After which, I’m gonna taste your sweetness too.”

  Holy hell. She was fucking hot and such the tease—not. I remembered her last blowjob when she’d just about sucked my brains out.

  With her back against the wall and her legs around my waist, I pumped her hard until she shook, moaning my name loudly without inhibition. Her head on my shoulder and her body limp in my arms was the only sign I needed that she’d gotten what she’d asked for.

  What I didn’t expect were her tears. She began to cry hard—uncontrollably. I sat down on the tiled seat behind me and si
mply held her.

  “Talk to me?” I pleaded, certain I’d pushed her too far.

  “I’m so scared about Friday. Will you come with me?” She mumbled into my shoulder.

  I leaned away from her, forcing a face to face. “I’d planned on being there all along. You will never be alone.”

  When she placed her hands on my face and kissed me between her tears, I felt a connection I’d known one other time in my life.

  I knew I loved her.

  Chapter 23

  Chelsie

  When Ian left at lunchtime on Sunday, I dragged myself around as if a piece of me had been lost, leaving me to function at half-speed. It was that empty feeling that helped me realize I’d turned the corner on how I felt about him. The milestones we’d reached were nothing short of amazing. We didn’t just make love or have crazy all-night sex—we connected on an emotional level previously foreign to me.

  He’d taught me things about myself I’d been missing all of my adult life. Control was something we thought we craved in every facet of life, except the bedroom. When ultimately nothing ever happened if we didn’t ask for it, and in some instances, we had to even direct the process. I learned women can and should take a role in the bedroom. I also began to understand that, while Carson’s words were hateful and disgusting, I had to take ownership of my part in the demise of our intimacy. It took two to make it and two to break it.

  At first, when Ian insisted I guide him through my pleasure, I was timid and afraid. Hell, I was embarrassed. I was ashamed that as a woman who was, according to Cosmopolitan Magazine, in her sexual prime, I didn’t even know myself how to achieve the difference between what felt great and move-over amazing. If I didn’t know, how was a man supposed to know?

  Foreplay was an unforgettable moment in the art of sex, and Ian had showed me several different ways a woman could be pleasured. Even the morning shower had led to a new discovery of the waterproof vibrator I hadn’t even known I had.

 

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