“Fine,” Thomas said, unzipping his fly. He reached for a condom, but Sasha stopped him before he got there.
“Something’s wrong,” she said.
“Nothing’s wrong. We’re doing it your way; you should be happy.”
“But you’re leaving your suit on?”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m kinky. It’s what I like.”
Sasha searched his eyes. “No. It’s not what you like. It’s something else.” She could read something in his expression, something minute but enormously telling.
Thomas sighed and let his hand drop. He sat back on his haunches and wiped a hand through his hair. “Why are you demanding this? I’ve given you two amazing orgasms and now you won’t do it how I want to?”
“Because I can tell it’s not really how you want to do it.”
“How? How are you an expert on my needs already?”
“Call it woman’s intuition,” she said. Then she added with a shrug, “Or take a leap of faith.”
On hearing his own words echoed back at him, Thomas slumped onto the bed beside her. There was a deeply troubled look in his eyes.
Sasha touched his chest lightly with her fingers. “You can talk to me.”
He breathed slowly for a long time. Then at last he spoke. “I don’t like to…be naked.”
“Why?”
“Please, Sasha,” he said, abruptly. “Don’t force this issue. I’ve already told you more than I’ve ever told anyone.”
Sasha maneuvered his face so that he was looking at her. “Don’t you remember telling me you wanted me to know about you, the real you, in your own words? Well, here’s your chance.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t. I already promised you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Thomas regarded her a moment more. “I was in an accident,” he said, finally. “Many years ago.”
Sasha rested a hand on his arm. “What kind of accident?”
“A fire. Me and Olivia…sorry, Crystal. She got the emotional scars; I got the physical ones.” He turned grief-stricken eyes to her. “We lost our parents in that fire.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sasha said. “I had no idea. How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
“You mean…no one’s seen you naked since you were seventeen?”
“No one’s seen me naked full stop. I hadn’t been with anyone before it happened.” He looked down into his lap. “Then I got famous, and I could do whatever weird shit I wanted. Sex in cupboards—no one’s taking their clothes off in that situation. An eager crew member giving me head on set—no need to strip. There were a few liaisons, like the one we had, where I fucked a woman with my suit on.”
“What about girlfriends?”
“I never bothered with them. It was easier to have casual sex with different women. That way they didn’t ask too many questions. And no one seemed to want to go beyond that anyway, so it never came up.”
Sasha pressed her palm against his chest, her fingers splayed. “I do. I want to go beyond that.”
He looked into her eyes. They were etched with anguish.
“Please, Thomas,” she implored. “I want you. All of you. I want to touch every part of you, kiss every part of you. I want the real you.”
She slid her hands up to the collar of his shirt then undid the top button. He winced and closed his eyes.
“Is that okay?” she said.
Slowly, he nodded.
She opened his shirt up. The exposed flesh was scarred and marked, wrinkled like the skin of an elephant. She pressed her lips against it then unfastened the next button and did the same. She could tell Thomas was anxious because his breath had become rapid and his eyes were squeezed shut.
She worked her way down each button, then slid his shirt entirely from his body. The scars from the fire covered his entire torso, making a marbled pattern in his skin. She was careful not to show any reaction on her face. Instead, she bent low and took his nipple in her mouth. He gasped, and she realized that she must be the first woman to ever lick his nipples. This was a brand new sensation for him, one that she got to introduce him to. The thought made her feel even more powerful. It was up to her to control this, to make him feel safe with her, to make this the best sex he’d ever had.
“Lie back,” she said.
He did as she instructed.
She ran her tongue over his flesh. His muscles were tight beneath the skin. Her hands stroked his chest then wound their way down to his belt. She undid it slowly, biting her bottom lip with anticipation.
“Close your eyes,” she said, as she unzipped his fly.
She guided his pants off of him. There were more scars on his legs, a dark purple color. But she couldn’t care less about them. All she cared about was Thomas’s huge erection. She rolled a condom over it.
He opened his eyes and drank in the sight of her gazing in adoration at his naked body. They were both naked, both in the same state of vulnerability, finally on a par with no power dynamic between them.
“I want you inside of me,” Sasha said. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
She mounted him. She was so wet from her earlier orgasms, he slid in quickly and deeply. His erection was rock hard. It filled the entire length of her.
Sasha began moving her hips slowly in a figure of eight. Thomas held onto her ass, guiding the motion. She could feel the echoes of her earlier orgasms as she rode him, demanding her to move faster, to push harder. She fought them back, wanting to savor this moment with Thomas, not wanting to rush anything, to delay gratification, to make sure that he experienced the most pleasure he ever had.
He moaned. “That feels good.”
Something about the way he said it seemed so fragile, so delicate. She realized that this was the first time Thomas Lloyd had ever felt nervous during sex. She had a great responsibility.
She widened her legs so that he was even deeper inside her, and this time, he let out a guttural noise from deep within him. “Fuck, yes.”
She felt his grip on her ass tighten. He began to move her faster, and she yielded, her body wanting it desperately, too. Then Thomas sat up and pulled his arms around her back. He pulled her tightly into him, so that their searing skin met. She could feel a layer of sweat between them.
Thomas pressed his mouth against hers, and she began to rock gently, her hands in his hair. His penis had moved positions when he had and was now angled towards a place that sent even stronger spasms of pleasure through Sasha.
“Oh, God,” he moaned, as she bounced faster and harder, unable to hold her body back any longer from what it needed.
His breath was hot, as he panted into the crook of her neck. She began to grunt with each inward thrust, heat and pleasure co-mingling inside of her.
“Thomas,” she whispered. “You’re so good.”
“Sasha,” he replied.
At the sound of her name, she threw her head back. He licked the exposed flesh, and she grabbed him by the shoulders, kneading his flesh. He winced.
“Don’t stop,” he said.
She dug her fingernails into him, and he cried out with pleasure. They were moving so fast now, so hard, their breath had synced up.
“I’m going to come,” he said through clenched teeth.
“So am I.”
She leaned back and stared him directly in the eye. And with one final thrust, they climaxed at the same time—silent at first, their mouths open, frowns etched across their foreheads—then loudly, crying out in unison.
“Fuck,” Thomas cried, as Sasha followed the pulsations of her orgasm with the movement of her body.
If Sasha’s earlier orgasms had been fireworks, this one was an explosion. She’d never screamed from sex; she’d never felt so completely filled with pleasure that there was nothing else left of her but her orgasm.
They slowed as the power of the orgasm began to dissipate. Finally, they were still. Sasha wrapped her arms around Thomas’s
neck and closed her eyes. Thomas held her close to him. They stayed there for a long time, completely silent, completely content, as though nothing else in the world existed.
Finally, Sasha maneuvered him out of her. She fell back on the bed, completely spent, feeling like every bone in her body had turned to jelly.
Thomas discarded his condom then joined her at her side. He stroked the exposed flesh of Sasha’s arm.
“You’re a goddess.”
“I don’t think your ego could handle being called a god,” she replied.
He laughed. “I thought you got it, Sasha. That it’s all bravado. It’s all acting. I don’t think I’m a god. Far from it.”
Sasha reached out and pressed a finger to his lips. “I get it Thomas. I get it.”
Chapter Five
Sasha woke to the sound of her cell phone ringing. She slung her hand out and grabbed it.
“Hello?”
“There you are,” came Kelly’s voice.
Sasha rubbed her bleary eyes. She became suddenly aware of the silky sheets twisted up around her and the smell of sweat. She looked to her right. Thomas was there—fast asleep.
Shit!
“Why aren’t you at your desk?” Kelly said.
“I’m sorry. I slept in. I’m coming now.”
“Hey, slow down. I’m not demanding you come in at nine in the morning. We have flexi-time for a reason. I was just calling about the article. Did you make your mind up about whether to print?”
“Yes. Don’t. In fact, shred it. Burn it.”
There was a pause. Then Kelly said, suspiciously, “Are you still with him?”
Busted.
Sasha sighed. “Yes. And I was wrong. There’s more to him than I realized.” Then something about the way Kelly phrased her question made Sasha pause. “What do you mean, ‘Are you still with him?’”
Sasha listened to the sound of Kelly lighting her cigarette and taking a huge inhalation.
“‘Still’ as in you were papped having dinner with him last night at about ten,” Kelly said. “It looked like a heated argument. I figured you were getting more ammunition for your article. But now you’re telling me to pull it because you’ve fallen for this guy. What am I supposed to print now?”
“I’ll write you another.”
“Of course you’ll write me another one. What I mean is, what’s the spin going to be? You’ve got a platform here. Be bold and write about your fiery night of passion like Alicia did last time. It’s only your career we’re talking about here. Don’t fuck it up.”
She hung up. Sasha sat there stunned.
Thomas stirred awake. “Who was that?”
“My boss.”
He sat up, suddenly startled. “The interview. I forgot all about it.”
Sasha turned to him. In the daylight, his scars looked angrier and more pronounced.
“Kelly wants me to write an article about us sleeping together.”
“You don’t want to?”
“Of course I don’t. I want to be a serious journalist, not some ditzy intern who supposedly slept her way to the top!”
Thomas smiled sleepily and fell back against the pillow. “I can put you in touch with some people I know at the BBC. I have a whole network of influential friends who’d happily scratch my back. If it’s serious journalism you want, then fuck the internship and that tacky magazine.”
“I’m being serious,” Sasha snapped.
“So am I,” Thomas replied between his yawn.
“The BBC?” she said with a faint laugh. “And then what? I move to England with you and we live happily ever after?”
Thomas opened one of his eyes and regarded her. “Sure. Why not?”
Sasha stopped. She was being sarcastic. “‘Why not?’ Because that’s the sort of thing you spend a long time thinking about. That’s the sort of thing you do after months of dating, not after two nights!”
Thomas ran his fingers along the length of her bare arm. “Look, I’m just saying that this isn’t the end of the world. You’re turning it into a crisis. It’s just an article.”
She frowned. “It’s the world to me, Thomas. It’s the culmination of hours of study, years of sacrifice.”
“Then sacrifice no more. Let me introduce you to Ed at the BBC.” He snuggled down into the bed and shut his eyes again.
Sasha stared at him, irate and hurt. “I don’t believe in nepotism,” she said, finally. But her voice was small, barely a whisper. “Growing up with nothing teaches you that.”
Thomas opened his eyes and looked at her seriously, concern on his face. “Sasha?”
She realized then that last night had all been about him, about his demons, about his problems. But she had problems too, and if they were going to make it work, she as going to have to be honest and open herself up to him fully.
“I grew up poor. My mother has MS. She couldn’t work. My dad was…”—she paused, trying to find the right word, the word that wouldn’t make her break down in front of Thomas—“...absent. He didn’t want to have to care for her.”
“I’m sorry,” Thomas said, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb in circles against it.
“My brother couldn’t cope with the pressure,” Sasha continued. “From a very young age, I had to step up. I did a lot. Shopping, cooking, cleaning. So when I say I’ve worked hard my whole life for this, that’s what I mean. I’m not about to take favors.” She felt emotion rising inside of her, and tears threatened to spill out. “Shit. This is serious, Thomas. What am I going to do?”
He paused. “Come away with me. Come away with me. Clear your head. I have a holiday home on a very exclusive island. No one would bother us there.”
“Didn’t you just listen to a word I said?” Sasha said. “I. Don’t. Want. Favors.”
“I didn’t want to take my clothes off, but you persuaded me it was a good idea. Sometimes we don’t know what we want.”
Sasha hauled herself from the bed, hurt by his words. “I can’t just run away from my job.”
“Yes, you can. That’s the point I’m making. You don’t need to be responsible all the time anymore. Let me take some of that burden from you. I mean, you don’t even like that job. You said so yourself. You just need it on your CV.”
“And?”
Thomas raised himself to his knees and grabbed her by the shoulders. “And your CV isn’t that important! You have me now. I’ll look after you.”
Sasha frowned with disgust. She pushed him off her. “I’m not a housewife, Thomas. I don’t need looking after. I’ve worked for my whole life to get into this position—”
“So you keep saying,” he interrupted. “Well, try working thirty years for your first big break.”
“This isn’t a competition over who worked harder to get where they are!” Sasha snapped, hurt by his insensitivity. “You’re telling me to throw away years of planning and education and sacrifice.”
The passionate, demanding Thomas she’d met in the Hilton hotel was back with a vengeance. “For love? Isn’t that worth it?”
Sasha stared at him incredulously. Love? Who said anything about love?
“Drop the hyperbole, Thomas. I’m going into the office.”
She pulled on last night’s little black dress and stalked to the bedroom door. She hesitated at the threshold then glanced back over her shoulder at the man she’d thought she had a future with. “Don’t call me.”
She found her shoes in the kitchen and remembered the earth-shattering orgasm Thomas had given her on the countertop. She felt like a completely different person to the one who’d given herself so willingly to him last night. How had everything flipped around so quickly?
She strode to the front door, hauled it open and came face to face with Crystal.
The woman wavered on the doorstep. She was clearly out of it.
“You again?” she slurred. “I don’t think he’s ever done it with the same girl twice.” She tried to jam her way past Sasha.
“Oh no you don’t,” Sasha replied, slamming the door shut and blocking Crystal out of the apartment.
“What did you do that for?” Crystal demanded. “That’s my brother’s house. I have every right to go in there.”
“Then you can ring the bell, can’t you?” Sasha replied.
She shoved her way past Crystal and down the steps.
“Bitch,” Crystal spat.
Sasha turned on her heel to face her. “You and your brother disgust me.”
She quick-stepped down the sidewalk, listening to the sound of Crystal’s desperate pounding on the door grow dimmer with each step, wondering if maybe she’d just dodged a bullet.
Chapter Six
Sasha spent the entire taxi journey to the Atomic office mulling things over in her head, trying to work out what to do for the best. Despite her argument with Thomas, she knew she couldn’t publish the original article she’d written about him. She would never stoop that low. But she also couldn’t write the article Kelly wanted her to write either. She didn’t want to do a kiss-and-tell, especially one that ended in her humiliation.
The first person she bumped into when she got into the office was Alicia, recovered from her food-poisoning and back to her full, healthy, raven-haired beauty. By the look on Alicia’s face, it was clear that she’d been briefed on the whole Sasha-Thomas situation. And she wasn’t too happy about having been usurped.
Sasha tried to write her article, but every time she looked up from her desk she saw Alicia—walking past her to the bathroom, getting a top-off from the coffee machine, standing outside her window while having a cigarette. She was pissed, and she wanted to make sure Sasha knew it in every passive-aggressive way conceivable. No words were coming to her. No spin on this, no way of telling a story about Thomas Lloyd that wouldn’t make her seem like a sore loser.
Just then, Sasha’s cell phone started ringing. It was Thomas. She hit the decline button.
A moment later one of the receptionist approached her, an excited look on her face.
“I have Thomas Lloyd on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”
ROMAN (Lane Brothers Book 5) Page 93