“Pity.”
She yelped and jumped a little – his voice was right next to her. She turned her head and her nose brushed against his chin, startling her again. She jerked back a little, but then his hands were on either side of her face, holding her still so he could kiss her.
Of course, Katya normally kissed with her eyes closed, like a lot of people did. So most of her kissing had technically been done in the dark, but literally doing it in the dark was a new experience for her. She was nervous as she reached her hands up and gripped onto his lapels. Held still while he kissed her thoroughly.
“This is weird,” she breathed when he pulled away.
“Why?” he spoke softly, moving his hands to her hips and pulling her closer to him. She stepped hesitantly, afraid of knocking into anything. She kept her eyes squeezed shut tight, as if that would help some how.
“I don't know, it's so dark. I'm scared of the dark.”
He chuckled at that, and she got prepared for him to make fun of her.
“Don't be scared,” he whispered. “I'm here with you in the dark. You never have to be scared with me.”
When he kissed her that time, she felt her fear start to flow away. Excitement and endorphins took its place. She pressed her tongue against his, moaned when his hands moved to her ass, squeezing hard before sliding up her back and into her hair once again.
He pulled gently on the strands, forcing her head back so he could move his lips over her throat and down to her collar bone. She smoothed her hands along his shoulders, then combed her fingers through his hair. She was feeling so good, she even opened her eyes.
She was shocked to find that she could see. There was light. Only a little, more like a glow. A soft, orange glow, originating from the wall by the door. She finally found the source – one of those scented plug-ins that doubled as a sort of night light. It wasn't enough to fully see everything, but she could get the basic idea of their surroundings.
It was a supply room. Shelves lined the walls on either side of the narrow space, and they were filled with bulk packages of paper towels and toilet paper, cases of glasses, promotional displays, tons of dish towels, napkins, all kinds of random odds and ends a bar might run out of that they'd want close at hand.
“Wulf,” she moaned. “We can't have sex in here.”
“I beg to differ.””
As if to drive his point home, he yanked on the zipper at her back. In one fell swoop, he had it all the way down. The material fell away from her chest but the dress was tight enough to stay clinging to her hips.
“I've never done something like this,” she whispered.
“Good, then I get to be your first,” he said, pushing at the dress, causing it to fall around her feet.
“This is so screwed up. We can't just have sex every time we get into a fight. This isn't … isn't right,” she stressed as he finally stood upright and looked down at her.
“No. No, what isn't right is the fact that I've never seen you in something like this before,” he breathed, stepping back so he could look over her whole body.
She glanced down and realized she was standing in only her sheer bustier, a pair of satin black panties, and her strappy black heels.
“It's only underwear,” she replied, gripping the sink behind her.
“Katya,” he sighed, stepping close enough to touch her. He traced a finger from the hollow in her throat down through her cleavage. “You are too beautiful to sell yourself so short. You, Miss Tocci, are a work of art. Pure perfection.”
Why can't he talk like this all the time? It would make everything so much easier.
She had his tie and jacket off in record time, then he was shoving her up against the shelves next to them, running his leg up between hers. They kissed with passion and tongue and biting teeth, her fingernails clawing at his shirt while his hand dove into her underwear.
No foreplay there – her eyes crossed as two fingers began thrusting in and out of her. She whimpered and dropped her forehead to his shoulder for a moment, trying to catch her breath. Then she bit into her bottom lip and worked shaky hands down his chest, managing to undo the buttons on his shirt.
Everything was happening so fast. She couldn't have stopped it if she wanted to – the room was loud with the sound of their panting, the air growing hot from their body heat. She whimpered and mewled and cried out at everything his lips and fingers were doing to her.
But she didn't stay idle. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, she went to work on his other clothes, yanking his belt clean out of the loops before almost ripping apart his button and fly. Then her hand was down his pants, wrapping her fingers around his dick and making him hiss.
“God, it feels like it's been forever since you've touched me,” he panted, pulling his hand free of her underwear.
“We just had sex the other night,” she reminded him. He snorted and placed his hand on his crotch, wrapping his fingers around hers through his pants.
“We didn't do this the other night,” he replied, stroking up and down, setting the speed and pressure. Both of them groaned.
“Then yes. Yes, it's been forever,” she replied.
“Too long.”
His forehead was pressed against her chest and he let go of his crotch, raising both his hands to squeeze her breasts. She struggled to catch her breath, squirming under his touch.
“Wulf,” she breathed. “Wulf, please.”
He jerked upright, startling her and causing her to let him go. Then his hands were on her ass, squeezing tight and pulling her up. She was lifted off the ground, her legs forced around his hips, and then he held her up, pressing her into the shelves.
“Too much. You're too much for me, I swear,” he was whispering, struggling to use one hand to shove his pants down a little.
“Not enough,” she replied. “I don't think I've ever been enough for you.”
He didn't respond, too busy with shoving the crotch of her panties to one side. She was sliding her hands over his shoulders when he was suddenly very much inside her, so fast it shocked her. She gasped and dug her nails into his muscles before raking them down his chest.
“Too, too much,” he grunted, slamming his hips hard against her.
God, they were making so much noise – she hoped he'd been able to lock the door behind him. A box of napkins tumbled to the floor, breaking open. The shelves were rattling and shaking, shifting against the wall behind them. She was moaning at first, then was kissing him, aggressively and sloppily.
“Jesus, why is it always like this now!? So intense. Too intense,” she gasped when she finally pulled away, stretching her arms out to the side and gripping the shelves. It took some of her weight off him and he was able to free one of his hands, which he immediately ran up her body.
“Because,” he groaned. “If we're slow … you'll think too much … and make a mistake ...”
“A mistake? I – AH!” she cried out, throwing her head back when he leaned down and bit at one of her nipples through the material of her bustier.
“Yes,” he said when her cry turned into another moan. “Because stopping something like this would most definitely be a mistake.”
“Don't stop,” she gasped, looking down at him. “Don't ever stop.”
“Never,” he replied as her hair fell around them like a curtain.
Nerve endings were firing off like canons in the pleasure center of her brain. It was amazing, gravity was pulling her down every time he thrust up, allowing him to hit places she hadn't known existed. Within just a couple minutes, she was shaking and moaning and absolutely falling to pieces all around him.
“Oh my god,” her voice was even shaking. She let one arm drop away from the shelves and wrapped it around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. “Please, Wulf, please. I'm going to … I need to … I want to ...”
“God, I love it when you beg,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. “Again. Do it again.”
“Please,” she whimpere
d. “Please, Wulf.”
“So close, yet can't say the right words,” he teased. She groaned in frustration.
“Please, please, make me come. Please.”
He kissed her then, his tongue halfway down her throat and distracting her from the fact that his hand was now between their bodies. She was moaning into his mouth when she felt his fingers sliding between them, strumming and pinching at swollen, sensitive flesh.
She understood why he'd kissed her so suddenly, because when she came, it was so hard she actually screamed. The sound was absorbed by his mouth. He started thrusting harder against her and she was reduced to just one long, continuous groan. He finally moved his lips to her throat and she let her head fall back again as she cried out in time to the electric pulses that were shooting through her body.
She wasn't sure how long she rode that orgasmic wave. It felt like forever because the harder he fucked her, the more it regrouped and spread further throughout her body. She was useless by the end, almost halfway unconscious. She suddenly realized she'd been staring at the ceiling for some time, gasping for air. She felt his hand back on her breast, pulling at the bustier material and trying to drag it down her chest.
“The best,” he was grunting. “The best, the best, the best, Tocci.”
“Yes,” she sighed, fully stepping back into reality. “This is the best.”
“You better goddamn remember that,” he growled, his tongue running up her cleavage.
“I will,” she whispered, combing her fingers through his hair.
“Remember who makes you feel this way, next time you're with him. Remember who's the best, when you're tallying your points.”
It was like a bucket of ice water was tossed over her entire body. She completely froze in place. Here she'd been, having a moment with him. Sure, it had started out as an anger bang born out of a silly argument, but it had moved into something lovely – him telling her never to be scared with him. Then something sensual – him telling her she was a work of art.
She hadn't been thinking about any game, or any choices, or any Liams. There had only been the two of them in that moment, just Wulf and Katya. If he hadn't said a word, she would've walked out of that room holding his hand, ready to go home with him and create even more naughty memories.
But the whole time, he'd been thinking about winning something. About beating Liam. She actually felt sick to her stomach, and she couldn't even be mad at him. She'd done this to herself. She'd set it up this way, she'd never been fully honest with him, so why should he think it was about anything else?
Because I want him to just feel what I'm feeling when we're in these moments. Maybe that's hoping for too much, though.
“Stop,” she said loudly, her voice flat.
“What?” he panted for air, slowing to a stop. She started pushing at his chest.
“Let go of me, get off,” she insisted, shoving at his shoulders.
“What's going on? What happened?” he asked, stepping back and slowly lowering her to the floor. His arms were still around her, though, and she started pulling at them.
“I said let go,” she grumbled.
“What's wrong? Are you okay, did I hurt you?” he asked, still out of breath. He started moving his hands over her body, rubbing up and down her sides. Trying to comfort her. A sweet gesture, really.
Goddammit, DO NOT cry right now!
“I'm okay, I'm fine,” she said, trying to hide a sniffle as she pulled herself free of his embrace. He gaped at her as she made her way back to her dress and stepped into the puddle of material.
“Tocci, what the fuck is going on!?” he demanded as she wiggled back into the dress.
“I have to go, I have to get out of here,” she replied, struggling to work the zipper up her back. He looked stunned for a moment, then he hurriedly put himself back together and zipped up his pants before stomping over to her.
“We were kind of in the middle of something,” he growled, then he whirled her around and zipped up the dress for her. “So don't tell me everything is fine.”
She didn't respond. If she didn't start moving, she really was going to start crying, so she hurried to the door. She was able to get back out into the hallway before he caught up to her. He draped his loose tie around his neck before going about buttoning up his shirt.
“I didn't say that,” she finally replied to his statement. “I just … I don't want to be here anymore.”
She burst into Liam's office without knocking. She'd halfway hoped he'd be in there – Wulf most likely wouldn't cause a scene in front of the other man. But unfortunately he wasn't there. She strode across the room and grabbed her trench coat and purse off a rack.
“Katya!” Wulf snapped, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a halt. “Jesus christ, talk to me here. What happened?”
She refused to look at him. She dug around in her purse instead, searching for a hair tie. Once she found one, she quickly combed her fingers through her tousled locks, yanking everything up into a messy ponytail. Then she struggled to put on her jacket. Her hands were shaking so bad, though, she couldn't get the first button through its hole.
“Tocci.” She felt his forefinger under her chin and he forced her to look up at him. “Talk to me.”
Her lips shook for a moment, but luckily he didn't notice. He was staring right into her eyes. He looked confused and angry and still somewhat shocked. His hair was mussy and worked over, his clothing wrinkled and out of order.
He's beautiful.
“It's just ...” she spoke in a strained voice, then she cleared her throat. Took a deep breath. “I think we need to have a long talk some day soon.”
“Fuck that,” he snorted. “We're talking now.”
“No. I'm not doing this here, at some party, in Liam's office. I just … can't,” she said.
“You can't leave me like this and just say 'we'll talk sometime' – you owe more than that,” he insisted.
“I know,” she held up her hands, wishing she could magically make him disappear. “What just happened … it was a mistake.”
“It wasn't a -”
“Yes, it was. It was a mistake because … because it's not like that anymore. I'm not like that anymore,” she said.
“I'm sorry, not like what? The kind of chick who'd have sex in a broom closet? Because I hate to break it to you, but clearly you are,” he laughed. She glared and slapped his chest.
“This isn't a fucking joke to me!” she yelled at him, then she shoved him out of the way and stormed out of the office.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he called out, chasing her down. “Okay, I'm sorry. Bad joke.”
“It's all a joke to you,” she hissed, trying to yank free when he pulled her to a stop.
“Enough!” he snapped. “Tell me what the fuck is going through that brain of yours.”
“This,” she said, gesturing between them. “Is not a joke. Not a competition. Not some game. What happened in that room? That was a big deal to me, and you … you acted like it was a game of blackjack.”
His eyes grew wide for a moment, then he narrowed them.
“So what, I'm the bad guy because I can't read your mind?” he demanded. She shook her head.
“No, I know that, that's why I had to stop it, I knew -”
“And if it's not some goddamn game to you, then why are you jerking me around? Fucking around with Eden to piss me off?” he snapped. She let out a small shriek and shoved him hard enough to knock him up against the wall.
“I'm not fucking around with anybody!” she yelled. “I spend time with you! I spend time with him! I'm confused and I'm upset and I don't know anything anymore and it's all a fucking game to you!”
“It was never a game to me – it's a game to you. A game that you started, and that you wanted us to play. So I did that for you, I did exactly what you wanted. I did everything you wanted. Jesus, if that wasn't what you wanted anymore, why didn't you say anything?” he demanded. “Again – I'm not a fucking ps
ychic.”
She was beyond angry. Angry, humiliated, confused, and so fucking pissed off. She stepped up close to him, got in his face.
“I didn't ask you to be one,” she said. “I just hoped you'd be a little more sensitive to the situation.”
“Are you serious? Have you met me?”
“God, I just want to go home,” she moaned, turning away from him. Once again, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop.
“You can't get angry at us for not knowing what's going through your head, Tocci,” he pointed out. She struggled with his grip.
“There's no 'us', Liam already knows it's not a game anymore,” she told him. His glare grew more severe.
“Oh really? And I suppose he knows you had sex with me?”
“I tried to tell him,” she insisted. He barked out a laugh, a harsh sound that cut her down.
“Sure, okay. Still sounds like a game to me, only this time instead of being a victim, you're just playing one.”
Enough.
She slapped him across the face. It surprised him enough that he let go of her and she stepped out of grabbing range.
“Leave,” she insisted, pointing down the hall. Wulf's eyes burned with anger as he stared back at her.
This was why she hadn't wanted to discuss the issue there – it was too intense. At home, they could hash it out. Misunderstand and miscommunicate and get angry. Shout and yell and get confused and cry, and hey, maybe even come to some sort of resolution. Maybe even laugh and be better afterwards. But not now. Now words were left unsaid and feelings were hurt and if she didn't stop them, it would spiral even further out of control.
“I have more of a right to be here than you do,” he said in a low voice.
“Want to test that theory?” she threatened, standing up straight.
He stared at her for a long moment, obviously weighing his options. He could refuse, could continue following her and fighting with her. Create a scene in the middle of the party. But that would just get Liam and Jan the bouncer involved, and they would always take Katya's side. Worse than those two, though – it would get Tori and his sisters involved. Katya didn't want that, she wanted to leave with what little dignity she had left.
The Neighborhood (Twin Estates #2) Page 24