That was never, ever a good sign when it came to this brilliant woman. “And?”
“You’re still married.” She raised her chin, some of her professional nature seeping back in.
“I’ve also scored two lesbian girlfriends.” He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. “What’s your point?”
She shook her head, denying his attempt at humor. “This situation is far from ideal.”
“I know.” He held her close, happy to do nothing but this for hours on end. No matter how much he looked at her, she seemed to grow more beautiful. More addictive. He could stare at her like this, no words, no movement, forever. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Do you mind sharing some of your optimism?”
“No problem. I’ve got enough for the both of us.” He ran a hand over the softness of her cheek and trailed the delicate strands of flower-scented hair behind her ear. Her head moved into his touch, her eyes briefly closing. Her acquiescence squeezed the breath from his lungs and boosted his resilience. Everything inside him felt right. In place. At ease. There was no guilt over a fake relationship, or regret due to a failed marriage. After years chipping away at any hope for his future, it was hard to ignore how monumental this moment was.
“Did you kiss her?” Her eyes opened, an expanse of blue hitting him. “Or them?”
“No.” He swallowed, the restriction in his throat making it hard to speak. “I guess it will have to happen eventually, though.”
Her features didn’t change, her lips maintained their sultry appeal, her lashes blinked in careless distraction. But he could feel her reaction, could sense the betrayal and animosity as if it were a physical entity she’d handed to him in a package with ribbon and shiny paper.
“I don’t want anyone else, Leah.” He released an arm from around her waist and cradled her jaw. “I’m here with you.”
“I know.” She tilted her face toward him, her mouth moving closer. “It’s just that you’ve been committed for so long, I thought maybe you’d want to get a little crazy.” She shrugged. “Ya know, like snorting sugar with lesbian lovers and such.” Her straight face transformed into a beaming smile.
“I only want to get crazy with you.”
“Promises, promises.”
Bam. And just like that, with a flirty line and flash of her pearly whites, he was lost. Done. Completely sold on spending eternity with this woman. “Are you hinting for me to move this along?”
“I didn’t want to be rude, but…” She nibbled her lower lip, the nervous reaction blindingly brilliant. Flirty Leah was now his favorite facet of this woman. Wonder Woman was profound; his best friend had been perfect. But this Leah, the one who made his chest throb and his libido surge was fucking phenomenal.
“I want to take this slow,” he admitted. “I want to make up for those two forced kisses.”
“Nothing was forced.”
“But it wasn’t what you deserved.” He trailed his thumb along her jaw, to her chin, and slowly swiped back and forth below her bottom lip. Her mouth was the most tempting taste he’d ever craved. “I want a new first kiss.”
He lifted her, placing her ass on the kitchen counter. “I want a proper kiss.” He pushed between her legs, lifting the hem of her nightgown to the top of her thighs. “I want to take my time.”
Her fingers tangled in his shirt, the slightest tug pulling him closer, dragging him toward the sweet scent of her. He leaned in, his nose hovering an inch from hers, his lungs dragging in her breath. She closed her eyes, her fingers gripping harder, her silent impatience making him burn.
“Kiss me, Ryan.”
“I will.” In time. First, he wanted to savor. He needed to memorize the hitch in her breath and the warmth from her skin. He had to study her. All the intricacies he’d never been allowed.
Her hand loosened in his shirt, her palm pressing firm against him as it made its way over his chest, his neck, and tangled in his hair. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. “Now.”
She slanted her head, her approach unhurried. He felt her lips before they were on his, could sense the burn before the connection. The kiss was slow… barely moving… barely breathing. There was nothing hurried or rushed. Slight swipes of mouths, gentle brushes of noses.
She whimpered, the sound of surrender making him feel like he’d won a war.
“I’ve waited forever to hear that noise.” He nipped her lower lip. “To taste it.” He glided his tongue over hers, still slow, still barely moving.
Her legs lifted, her thighs encircling his waist as her hand descended from his hair and retreated to the hem of his shirt. She lifted the material, over his waist, his chest, to his neck. There was a split second of ice-cold separation as she yanked it over his head, then her mouth was back on his, meek and mild, gentle and coaxing.
He pulled her tighter against him as her nails slowly raked his skin, the trail painstaking in its leisure. Her touch inspired agony wherever it dragged, reigniting wounds from time wasted and years of misplaced affections. They should’ve done this long ago. He should’ve been with her from the start.
“We’re not friends anymore, Leah.” He spoke into her mouth, unwilling to pull away.
“I know.” Another kiss. Another stroke of tongues.
“Don’t let me mess this up.” That was his worst fear. Losing her. Losing this.
She froze, her eyes still closed as she placed her forehead against his. “You won’t. It’s the external factors that will make this temporary.”
Temporary? “Hey.” He chastised her with a harsh smack of his lips. “This ain’t temporary. Don’t get cold feet.”
“I’m not, but I don’t want to get carried away either. If I have to make a choice—”
“Don’t go there.” He could deal with her hesitation for now. Anything else was static. “We’re going to do whatever it takes to make this work.” He dropped his hands to her thighs and dragged her into him, her heat against his cock. “Whatever it takes, Leah.”
Chapter Thirteen
She nodded, hoping she could commit to the promise. In her mind, this was temporary. Disneyland for a day. A wish with a time limit. But with each touch, or kiss, or whispered word, she clung to the fantasy of more. She wanted to experience all of him before the fun was over.
She reached for his beard, let the harsh stroke of his whiskers tickle her palm. His mouth brushed hers again, then his teeth, and his tongue. It wasn’t merely a kiss. It was a tease. A game. A show of affection and a promise of forever. It was everything. With his mouth alone, he’d made the beat of her heart thunderous and soaked her panties.
“Help me out of these.” She wiggled back on the counter, giving herself room.
His gaze lowered to the join of her thighs and the small expanse of see-through material covering her mound. “Fuck.”
The curse struck her belly. Hard. He wasn’t prone to profanity like she was. Those words were only spoken at the best of times, or the worst of times. And she was a little giddy to be on the former column.
“Is this going to be weird?” She stared at his hands as they crept toward her underwear. She was waiting for the awkwardness to kick in, for the arousal to be tainted by years of friendship.
“Do you want it to be?” he murmured. “I can do something kinky if you like.”
“Stop it.” She lifted her ass to help him remove her panties. “You know what I mean.”
He met her gaze, his fingers tangled in her waistband, his breath tempting her mouth. “Would darkness help? I can turn off the TV.”
“No. I have to see you. All of you.” She licked her lower lip in a nervous stroke, her breathing labored as he stepped back and pulled her underwear over her knees. “And I want you to know you’re with me. Nobody else.”
“I could never forget. I’ve waited a lifetime to be here with you, carrying the guilt of emotionally cheating on someone I’d fallen out of love with.” He dropped her panties to the floor and convinced her with the inte
nsity in his eyes. “You’re everything to me.”
She wanted to mimic the sentiment. He’d been her everything for far longer, after all. But layering this situation with vulnerability wasn’t a good idea when tonight might be the only night they had. “Show me.”
“It’s all in the plan.” His hands continued back up her thighs, creeping higher until he cupped her ass.
“You have a plan?” She tilted her neck, delighting in the tingled trail of his lips along her jaw, his fragile kisses leading up to her ear. “Impressive.”
“One plan,” he murmured. “Make you mine.”
He pulled her close, causing her to gasp as his pants-covered erection aligned with her pussy. The hardness of him grated against the heat of her, the torturous tease making her mindless. She wanted to be his. Wanted nothing else as those kisses peppered her with affection.
She ached to tell him everything. To pour her heart out and explain why this couldn’t be forever. But the words didn’t come. They were stifled by pleasure. Suppressed under the weight of hope.
“I want you.” Her voice was barely audible. The plea silenced from the blood rushing through her ears.
“Then tell me you’re mine.”
A palm trailed over her hip, his thumb leading the way toward her pussy. She held her breath as he encroached, held his shoulders, too. Then he was there, gliding the pad of his thumb over her clit piercing.
He froze, not moving, not coaxing. She wasn’t sure if it was a torture technique. Then his head fell to her shoulder, the action almost defeated.
“What is it?” She panted through the torment.
“Nothing.” He pulled back, only to smash his lips against hers, painful and punishing. His tongue took ownership of her mouth, his fingers staking claim on her clit. He slid his fingers lower, through the slickness of her arousal, and deeper.
She whimpered at the penetration, her pussy clamping down on pure, delicious fulfillment. Reality was lost for a moment. She closed her eyes and clung to him, tightening her grip with each thrust and swirl.
A hand glided through her hair, gentle at first, then tight, squeezing, demanding her attention. She blinked up at ferocity and ownership. There was nothing but him. He took her over. All her thoughts were his. All her breath. All her ecstasy.
He watched her with savage determination, not stopping the onslaught of his fingers or the manipulative tug of her hair. He was different like this, a stark contrast from the man she knew. There was nothing gentle in his features. No sweetness. No chivalry. The man before her was confident in his finesse. Calculated with his control.
She released a hand from around his neck to stabilize herself on the counter and began grinding into his strokes. She held his focus, matching his tenacity with her own. His fortitude built, those eyes becoming more adamant on her pleasure while her strength fractured under the skillful force of his fingers.
She kissed him, gasping into the connection. The grip on her ass shifted, nudging between her cheeks, gliding toward her pussy from behind. Everything inside her clenched. Bliss hovered.
“Fuck.” She pulled back to suck in air.
“Soon.”
He continued to work her into a frenzy, his kisses landing on her cheek, her shoulder, the top of her breast. Every time a sound escaped her mouth, he became attuned to the cause, pinpointing the pleasure-filled action and doing it again and again.
He stroked the wet flesh between her pussy and ass, then penetrated her core. He kissed her into oblivion. There was no respite. No pause to gain control. His teeth scraped her nipple. His beard marked her skin. His thumb rubbed her clit. Over and over. Her need building higher and higher.
Everything grew dark under the weight of rapture. She leaned down, delirious and searching for clarity as she placed her head against his shoulder, still rocking with his penetration.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this.”
“Stop swearing,” she panted, shaking her head to fight his hold.
“Why?”
“Because it’s so fucking sexy.” She couldn’t take much more.
His low chuckle tickled her, burning her nerves and increasing his power.
“Wait until I start to fuck you.” His voice traveled from the sensitive spot below her ear. “Wait until my face is between your thighs and you’re fucking my mouth.”
“Ryan,” she warned. At least she thought it was a warning. In her head, she sounded stern. Authoritative. Yet, in her ears, the word had seemed oddly fragile. More like a plea.
“I’m going to fuck you until you know you’re mine.” He licked her earlobe and grazed the sensitive flesh between his teeth. “I’m going to make you come over and over until you’re addicted to me, like I’m addicted to you. And between now and then, there’s going to be a lot of therapeutic cursing heading your way.”
She shuddered, head to toe, pussy to breasts. She never imagined him this way. Her fantasies were filled with gentle Ryan. Sweet, thoughtful Ryan. That man had been enough to make her wet on the darkest of days. But this guy, the one with the silver tongue and filthy mouth was going to kill her. One orgasm at a time.
“Stop. Talking.” She wanted control. At least a little bit. Yet he tore it from her. He stole her sense and used it against her, his thumb now stroking over her clit jewelry like he owned it.
“Less talk, more action?”
He sucked her neck, hard, the skin burning under his lips. She dug her nails into his back, unable to stop herself from riding his fingers harder. She was close, so close. With each breath her pussy clenched, clamping down on him, threatening to take over.
“I’m…” Her orgasm hit, the fluttering overload creating senselessness. She made noise, made movements, all of them without thought as she clung to him, pulling him tighter and tighter into her chest. He whispered as she came, words with a lilt of love and affection. She struggled to understand him, tried to focus, but she was drowning. There was no escape until heaven receded and her gasps became proper breaths.
They remained silent as she gained control, her sense of self-preservation almost within her grasp when he removed his fingers from her pussy, clutched her ass, and dragged her from the counter.
She squealed—a girlie, weak sound.
“You’re a squealer?” He led her to the bed, placing her down softly on the mattress, her nightie falling back into place.
“I am not.”
He straightened, standing tall to stare down at her splayed before him. “I’m pretty sure that was a squeal.”
She narrowed her gaze, ignoring the need to grin. “And I’m pretty sure your life will be over if you ever repeat what you heard.”
He chuckled, his panty-melting smile killing her as he unbuckled his belt. “Duly noted.” His erection bulged against his zipper, his length becoming more evident when he shucked his pants. She held her breath, swallowed, and gripped the bed coverings tighter in an effort not to squirm. He was truly magnificent. She didn’t know how anyone could ever let a man like this slip through their fingers. It was stupidity. Insanity.
He met her gaze as he dragged his boxers below his knees and stepped out of them. The desire to lick her lips was undeniable. Everything inside her itched to lower her attention. To take in every inch of him. To lavish in all the parts of him she’d never laid eyes on. The need to stare at his nakedness a living breathing thing. Instead, she focused on his eyes, letting his confidence wash over her to smother all the reasons this shouldn’t be happening.
“Go on.” His voice was low, gravel-rich. “Look your fill.”
Cocky bastard. But she did. She lowered her eyes and took in the sight before her, from his muscled shoulders, the defined pecs and trail of hair from his navel all the way down to his crotch. His cock stood proud, thick, the veins of his shaft bulging.
Yep, truly magnificent.
She clenched her thighs, unable to deny the need for friction. “Come here.”
He complied, kneeling on the bed. He
spread her legs, his attention on her face, not on the parts of her body he exposed as her nightie climbed up her thighs. “Take this off for me.”
Her heart stuttered and she gripped the silken material to pull it over her head.
He looked her over, so slow, so leisurely, his gaze raking her as if she was a newly acquired masterpiece. Then he stopped, his head bowing as his eyes clamped shut.
“Ryan?” Her stomach turned as she waited for a response.
“Give me a minute.”
Why? Was he caught up in thoughts of his wife? Felicity? Hannah? Christ, was he thinking this was a mistake?
When he finally lifted his chin, pure conviction stared back at her.
“I know you’re worried,” he started. “But I can’t go back from this. I can’t give you space anymore. Not even time. I just can’t. I’ve wanted you for too long to ever return to friendship.”
She nodded.
“No, you don’t get it.” He kept punishing her with his sincerity. “This is us now. We’re together. You’re mine.”
She blinked to fight the burn. “I’ve always been yours.”
His muscles bunched, pulling taut. “You’ve got no idea what it means to hear that.”
“I think I do.” She reached up, placed a hand around his neck and pulled him on top of her. “Because I feel the same.”
His heavy body covered hers, the hardness of his chest pressing into her breasts. Arousal seeped from her core, the slickness of her pussy out of control. While one hand tangled in his hair, she ran the other between them and brushed her palm over his cock.
He hissed, the aggressive sound nirvana through her veins. He gyrated into her hold, working himself in a slow rhythm as he stared down at her, his lips close, his heart even closer. She could read his thoughts, the dirty ones making her shiver and the hopeful ones inspiring heart ache.
He wasn’t holding back. She could see he wanted all of her, not just her body, not just her friendship. He’d ransack her soul if given the chance. And she wasn’t sure she should let him. Not when being with him could mean the end of all the things that defined her.
Reckless Beat Box Set #2 Page 47