“Yes, she is.
”Walker agreed, gripping his glass tightly, then knocking back what was left of his whiskey. Walker knew Steve well enough to know that if Steve had been aware that he was the reason Waverly had been forced to find a new job all of those years ago, he would have given Walker hell for it. Steve continued to rave about Waverly, surprising him by confessing, that not only did he and Waverly talk regularly, they texted back and forth a lot. Of course, they fucking did. Fan-fuckin-tastic. He was the only fucking person, in the entire fucking country that she didn’t text!
Waverly was so obviously enjoying her girls night out that they decided not to interrupt, both of them smart enough to know they were neither wanted nor needed.
While Walker and Steve debated the Cubs chances for the pennant, the female voices escalated, curious, both men turned again, to see what the women were doing now. A short, younger man wearing a trendy suit, one hand holding a drink, the other fisted on his hip, scowled, as he chastised the group. His admonishments were not well received by the women, consequently, the back and forth of their voices grew louder.
The guy appeared to be somewhat inebriated, and it was clear that all of the women were, at the very least, tipsy. Watching, he and Steve assessed the situation for a minute the two, then moved to head over.
Waverly had begun waving her arms around, while the trendy suit guy, voice raised to a shout now, pointed angrily in Waverly’s face. As they neared the women, Steve called out a genial hello. Waverly looked over at them, recognizing Steve, her entire face lit up and on unsteady legs, Waverly, drink still in hand, launched herself at him. Catching her with an ‘Umph’, they hugged warmly, Waverly cooing out happy words to him. There was no hug for him, no warm greeting – she didn’t even acknowledge him.
Walker watched, feeling a bit left out, it struck him, that he liked her warm openness with people, her affectionate nature, but, he didn’t like having it right there in front of him directed at another man. Fuck, he felt jealous, he wasn’t sure that he had ever in his life felt jealousy before.
Realizing who Walker was, trendy suit guy introduced himself to both men, Steve was forced to remove his hand from where it was protectively wrapped around Waverly, to shake his hand. In a good ole boys club manner, the man explained that these woman, out of place in a man’s bar, were disturbing him. Waverly who seemed to notice, finally, that he was there, grimaced at him, he internally rolled his eyes at her.
Suit guy was now heatedly disagreeing with Steve, loudly making it clear that this bar was above the low-rent antics of these... Women. That immediately incensed Waverly, who wasted no time getting right in his face and provoking him further. Her group began rallying her with shouts of, ‘Get ‘em Way!’ and, ‘Let ‘em have it’, only spurring both of them on. When the guy let loose with a comment about Waverly’s morals, her eyes got big, waving her arms while defending herself, a bit of her drink sloshed onto the guy’s shirt. He roughly grabbed Waverly’s arm and Walker had witnessed enough.
“I’m warning you buddy, take your fucking hand off her, right fucking now,” Walker hissed through clenched teeth.
Looking down at the small spot on his shirt, suit guy jerked Waverly’s arm free and hissed “Bitch” at her. With no hesitation; Walker’s fist slammed into the guy’s jaw, sending him, and Waverly, tumbling, back into one of the club chairs.
Horrified and embarrassed, sprawled out awkwardly on the chair she had landed on, Steve moved quickly, helping her as she scrambled to right herself. Shocked, at the quick turn of events and the violence she had caused, she stood staring at the bleeding, incoherent, man, then looked over at Walker. Hands fisted, slowly opening and closing, he was breathing hard.
On unsteady legs, Waverly tentatively, moved close to him, gently pressed a hand on his arm. Finally noticing her touch, Walker’s eyes left the man and broken glass scattered on the floor and moved to hers. His eyes ran over her, then he swore softly, abruptly turned and walked away.
Steve was busy with the manager, sorting out the guy, then herding all of her friends into cabs, Waverly said her goodbyes, and thanked Steve. Steve winked at her, telling her ‘passionate women do passionate things. She looked around trying to locate Walker, his phone and drink were sitting abandoned at the bar.
After knocking at the men’s room door, and getting no answer, she hesitantly pushed in. Walker faced the large mirror, leaning with one hand on each side of the sink, head hanging down between his hunched shoulders. This was not a side of him she had ever seen, he was always so calm and contained, it unnerved her to see him like this, softly, she edged a little further toward him. Without moving at all, still staring into the sink, he asked, “You okay?”
“Yes. Are you okay?” Her answer was soft, soothing as if speaking to a wounded animal.
“I’m not the one who was bounced around. Did he hurt you at all?” His voice was rough.
“Walker, really, I’m all right” she soothed, He turned then and with both hands, gently gripped her shoulders, running his hand up and down the arm she had fallen on, inspecting her. Waverly pressed both of her hands on his chest, although still shaken, she tried for a reassuring smile. Seemingly satisfied with his inspection, he exhaled.
“You were thrown across the room, Waverly. I saw it.”
“I’m okay, Walker, really, I wasn’t hurt,” she assured him her hands rubbing slowly up and down on his biceps.
“I saw him touch you like that, and, it really bothered me. I wanted to hurt him,” he breathed out darkly, his hold on her loosened.
“It was partly my fault,” she smiled shakily up at him again, trying to lighten him up a bit.
“That’s bullshit. If I ever see anyone touch you like that again ...,” his voice got softer. Fascinated, she watched his anger play out on his face, so much emotion from a man so typically restrained and aloof.
It surprised her to see him so upset, was it only the altercation that sent him deep into his own thoughts? Was he angry with her? She had probably gone too far, been too silly. Her behavior was in poor taste, certainly not behavior he was used to from the sophisticated women he was used to. Well, she wouldn’t have to worry anymore about keeping things between them platonic. The only thing that could have made it worse, would have been if photos of the altercation ended up in the press.
“Walker,” she whispered loudly, trying to distract him, “Thank you. I shouldn’t have let any of that happen, but, I’m okay. It’s over.”
“There’s no excuse for ever hurting a woman,” he stated.
After a deep breath, he finally seemed to relax a little, settling his hands to her waist. Then his lips turned down again.
“Did your parents ever hit you?” He asked softly, watching her face.
Looking away from him, she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, turning and pulling completely away from him.
“Fuck,” Walker exclaimed roughly. Waverly just shrugged, turning her back to him she moved over to the other sink. This wasn’t a topic that she wanted to think or talk about... Ever. She needed distance from him.
Looking in the mirror, wiping at her smeared mascara, the impact of his question hit her. The events of the entire night, the whiskey, him, his question, she was overwhelmed. Her eyes watered, and then tears started to fall. Embarrassed she wiped hastily at them.
Walker had come up behind her.
“Stop,” he murmured, gripping her waist and turning her around to him. He reached up, wiping the tears as they continued to fall.
“It was a long time ago,” she whispered shakily, not meeting his eyes.
His hands rested on each side of her neck, tilting her face up to him, he waited until she finally met his eyes, his dark, blue eyes searching hers.
“No one will ever hurt you again,” he vowed to her.
Leaning forward with a ragged sigh she laid her head on his
chest, he could feel her tears wet his shirt. Walker wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
She had so fucking, fucked him. This girl in his arms, five feet, nine inches of unpredictability, of silliness and warmth and curves to die for, had fucked his life. She filled him with emotions that he had intentionally tried like hell to avoid. Instead, every part of his life was becoming overrun with her. Just sex, he reminded himself, he had just wanted sex with her. Not any of this, this...emotion. He had watched her standing in front of him, with tears in her eyes from the pain she had suffered, and he just wanted to do...everything. To protect, ease the hurt and pain of her past, lock her away so she never leaves him – all of her smiles and her laughter only for him.
She clung to him, as he smoothed his hands up and down her back.
“What are you doing to me, Hippie Girl?”
Pulling back from his chest, she smiled bleakly up at him, with sad gray eyes, that weakened his resolve to keep things on safer ground for him. He hated her sadness. He was such a pussy for her. A fucking pussy, he had vowed that he would never have feelings for any woman. Ever. Everything about her continued to push back every one of his hard held lines. How did she do this to him? Fuck.
Pulling her back to him Walker bent and whispered, low in her ear, “When I’m not with you, I think about the next time you’ll be with me again. I’m not a boy, Waverly, I’m a man, a man who plays to win – whatever it takes. For a week I’ve allowed you your space, stayed away from you. I’m finished giving you your space now. If you can’t do this, tell me now.”
Backing Waverly into the sink, he lifted her face to him, kissing her roughly, the desire for her that he had tamped down all week, ignited.
“Come home with me” he ordered her, then his mouth returned, kissing, deep and hot and wet. Speaking low, with his lips still on hers, he urged, “Let me take you home, stay with me, I’ll make you forget everything. All you’ll be able to think about will be every part of me making every part of you feel good.”
He leaned over to kiss her again. He could see the hesitation in her eyes.
“No, Walker, I can’t. You said no one will ever hurt me again, and you might not mean to, but you will. You’ll hurt me. I can’t take another chance.”
“Just let me take care of you, I won’t hurt you, Waverly. You need me.”
Her eyes flashed and he could see that she was angry. She glared at him, “I don’t need you,” she huffed.
His eyes flashed back at her, then looked away. Gripping her hand tightly, he coaxed her, “I won’t hurt you.”
Her shoulders sagged in defeat, confusion washed over her, he shouldn’t have pushed her, she was exhausted. When she finally looked at him again, her eyes had gone soft. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to take her home to fuck her or just to keep her safe, but this was beginning to feel like a whole lot more than just him wanting to get laid.
Wrapping her up in his jacket, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out with him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
His place was the stereotypical wealthy, male, condo - upscale and affluent.
“Did you move in recently?” Waverly asked, noticing the sterile atmosphere as she handed him his jacket. Everything was sophisticated, expensive, and dull, it was all gray and flat, no color, art or photos anywhere.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but you have a very monastic style going on here. You might want a designer,” she announced cautiously, her eyes still traveling over the space.
“Yes,” he returned with innuendo.
“I do want a designer.”
Walker chuckled, at her blush—with almost a full smile.
“I’m a man Waverly, I like things organized, not cluttered.”
“It wouldn’t have to be cluttered, you misogynist, it just needs some style, some warmth, to it.”
“I think it warmed up considerably, the second you walked through the door.”
Waverly turned back to see if he was teasing her but remembered that Walker was not a teasing man. He was strength and confidence, decisiveness. You did not cross a man like Walker Rike and expect to walk away unhurt. He had demonstrated that tonight, and she needed to remember it.
Although he had crossed the room to his bar, the mood was charged now, thick with expectation, and want. Waverly wanted him, and he had made it clear that he wanted her. She appreciated his want for her. She gave in to her want for him. Crossing the room to place herself directly in front of him, he watched, then held out a bottle of water to her.
“Water?” He asked gruffly.
“I don’t want water,” she whispered to him, reaching her hand out to him.
He instantly threaded her hand with his, pulling her quickly through his apartment, to the second floor, and to his master bedroom. Walker pushed open the door, allowing her to move past him. Waverly moved to the center of the room, surrounded by a starlit view of the Chicago skyline.
“Are you still drunk?”
Walker asked still standing at the door, his hands tightly gripping the frame, his biceps straining the fabric of his now rumpled, shirt.
Waverly shook her head, turning from him to set her small handbag down on his bed. No jacket now; wearing only the shirt, black pants, and a loosened, blue tie. His hair, usually so perfect, is tousled on top, from the altercation, his eyes glittering as he scrutinizes her.
“Tipsy?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Waverly raised her eyes to his. His hesitation surprised her, every encounter between them so far, had been initiated by him, rough, fast, hard. Perfect. Was this him trying not to hurt her? She realized that he had been right, she needed him to make her forget.
Reaching back she slowly lowered the zipper on her dress, it slid down to a puddle around her feet, she kicked it away, standing in front of him in just her bra, thong, and heels. Walker walked slowly, as if he had all of the time in the world, over to her, stopping close enough for her to feel his breath as he stood before her.
“Just to be clear,” her chin lifted proudly, her heart racing, “This is just sex.”
Walker reached one hand up behind her, gathering her hair in his hand, then winding, then pulling it so her lips raised to him. “
Just to be clear, it’s fucking amazing sex,” he agreed.
Waverly reached for him, smoothing both hands up his chest to his top button. Slowly, her nails scratching over every inch revealed to her as she unbuttoned his shirt. A low groan escaped him when her fingers finished with his buttons and slid under his waistband. Looking up, she found his head tipped back, jaw clenched, eyes closed.
Enjoying his anticipation, she slowed her movements. She appreciated that Walker, controlling by nature, was allowing her to set the pace, to take her time enjoying him. It was a first between them and Waverly became more excited by the control he was allowing her.
“What do you want, Walker?”
As her hands spread up his warm chest to circle his neck, her breasts lightly teased his chest. Lowering his head with a groan he rested his lips on hers, easing his tongue inside, long quiet moments passed as he kissed her, and she kissed him. Then he abruptly pulled back, leaning his forehead to hers, and breathing hard.
“I want my mouth on you,” he rumbled, low and rough, “Spread your legs for me so I can get my mouth on your pussy, make you come on my tongue.”
“Yes,” she choked out, her heart pounding from the erotic words, his commanding voice and powerful arms.
Taking back control, Walker moved his eyes down lower, staring at her breasts, watching her nipples harden for him.
“That’s what you want, right?”
Walker is a man always in control, who decides what he wants and then gets it with concentrated focus. At that moment his focus was on her, setting her heart pounding with need for what he had of
fered. Waverly appreciated his pause to make sure that she was in agreement with him.
“Last time I just had to fuck you - hard, fast, had to get inside you, feel you again.”
Focused on sliding the strap of her bra down her shoulder, then leaning in to kiss her shoulder, she felt his teeth dig gently into her skin.
“This time... Slow. Everything, every way. Over and over.”
Walker bent his head dropping his mouth to one breast and sucked, then traced his tongue over her, moving in long, slow circles, lazily going around and around. Twitching and shifting, her legs rubbed together, he trailed his fingers down over the toned, tan skin, of her flat stomach, feeling her muscles tremble. Sensing her need, he kissed, then licked his way, down, down, down, until his fingers finally parted her. Letting his mouth hover over her, he let his breath puff repeatedly on her already hot skin.
Waverly opened her eyes looking down at him, then watched his large, roughened, hands bracket her waist, guiding her down to sit before him. Looking up at her heatedly, he pushed her legs wide and grazed his fingers up, spreading her open wide. Waiting for his mouth, her hands went to head, into his hair, scratching his scalp gently, he groaned.
He attacked her, humming and grunting, his appreciation, while his warm tongue kissed and licked, determined and hungry, finally pushing his tongue deep inside of her, Waverly melted for him.
Head rolling, hands pulling at him, she came, calling his name softly, over and over. Walker slowed his mouth to gentle kisses, his hands holding her legs open to him when she tried to pull away.
Placing one last kiss on her, she watched him pull away to stand, shoving his pants and boxers down his hips. A condom from the nightstand in his hand, Crawling onto his bed, Walker straddled her, his fingers reached to slowly circle her nipples, watching them react to his movements, react to him. Rested above her, propped by one hand, holding his cock poised about her mouth.
His erotic request overwhelmed her and the intimacy of taking him that way excited her. He waited for her consent, watching her intently. Opening her mouth to him, she licked all around the tip of him, then had to open wider, to slide more of him in. Working him greedily, the only sound in the room was his ragged breath as he moved to pull in and out.
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