“Sure?” Rashae drew the one word out for a second. She didn’t sound sure at all, but then again, that was half the problem.
He wasn’t sure of anything. And he badly needed to define and manage at least one factor of what was going on. He’d realized that when he left the Traveler society, it’d been to gain some modicum of control over his life. Being ostracized was something he hadn’t expected, but he’d needed that grasp on himself more than the tether of his people. That he’d been pushed so far out of what he could handle, he had to swing back the other way.
Coming to America was him in control.
Immigrating was him in control.
Managing crowd sourcing campaigns put him in control.
Being with Rashae removed his control.
“I’m goin’ to be a bit of an ass.” He stared down at her. There was one, errant curl lying across her forehead. He pushed it back, somewhat into place. “I need...I need to put a label on this. Us. So I know what to expect. I hide it well, but I’m a total control freak.”
“Why is that being an ass?” She lifted her head from his shoulder and turned to face him.
“Because before I said—”
“We’d just had sex. Anything you say after sex is always subject to change.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “So...back to your question, what are we? I think...I think I’d like knowing what box our relationship fits into.” She drew her knees up to her chest, tipping her head back against the headboard to look at him. “We’re not just working together. You’re cool. I like hanging out with you. And we have chemistry. So...what does that make us? Do we even want it to be something else?”
“I...would not be opposed. But I thought that was obvious. Shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. If they were more, if they weren’t just friends, he had to be honest with her. As soon as Christmas was over.
“Declan...I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but...I don’t have time for more than friends. A relationship takes effort I don’t have left to give. Between trying to get my art up and going, my costuming and attending to cons...there’s not a lot of me left.”
He nodded. He’d expected as much. It was... something of a relief. He wouldn’t know what to do with a real relationship, if it landed in his lap. The few he’d tried to hold onto had ended badly and usually because of him. Either he tried to manage things too much or he was focused on his work to the detriment of his partner.
“I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I want to sleep with you again.”
“So, we’re...friends who sleep together?”
“Friends with benefits?”
“If that’s what you want to call it. Yeah.” He wasn’t certain about that term. It seemed...negative in some fashion. Rashae was more than a benefit, but maybe that was him. He had some old-fashioned hang up’s here and there. Like being honest with the one you slept with.
“Okay, then. We are friends with benefits. Merry Christmas. Just...so you know? My family will freak at those words so...”
“It’s none of their business. To them, we are friends.”
“Are you sure that’s okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because...I’m putting work before you?”
“We’re both entrepreneurs. It’s in our DNA to work ourselves to the bone.” He wrapped his hand around hers. Growing up the way he had, it’d taught him how to make a buck when he needed it. With the right work ethic, he could get his life together. Make his game. But it was always at the sacrifice of something else. If he and Rashae had an arrangement that worked for them, where was the fault in that?
“I don’t know how to do this though. Like...I want to, I just...don’t know...the rules?”
“What don’t you know?” He turned, leaning toward her. When she was near he wanted to be...closer. Always closer. “Do you want to kiss me right now?”
“When you look at me like that, yeah.” Her eyes skipped from his eyes to his mouth and back again.
“Then do it.”
Rashae stared at him for several moments longer. She was ballsy and brave, but for some reason he couldn’t fathom, she hesitated. Was it him? Being at her parent’s house? Did she have second thoughts?
She stroked her fingers up his jaw, her nails rasping against his stubble.
He wanted to pounce, to take, but he held back. He had to be sure she wanted him the same way he wanted her.
Rashae leaned in, closing the distance slowly. He didn’t dare move. She was a lot like a skittish filly, strong-willed and beautiful.
Her mouth caressed his, soft touches, barely skimming the surface. He reached over, setting his hand at the curve of her waist. She sucked in a breath and stilled.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she whispered so fast. It was denial, but again, he wouldn’t spook her. Not tonight.
“My turn.”
Declan pressed against her, suckling her lower lip into his mouth, running his teeth along the plump morsel of flesh. He could spend days on just her lips, tasting her. Her breath hitched and she flattened a palm against his chest, her fingers pressing in, as though she could grab a handful of him.
He liked when she held on.
He made another pass at her mouth, flicking his tongue over her lips, nibbling and sucking her lips. The needy little sounds she made were music to his ears.
Declan slid his hand down to the curve of her ass.
They needed a better position. He wanted to take advantage of this moment, hold onto the tenuous control.
She had both hands on his face now, his hair between her fingers. Every so often, she tugged, not hard, but enough.
He gripped her hips and slid her down the bed. She yelped, but he swallowed the sound, taking advantage of every opportunity to explore her.
Rashae groaned and arched her spine as he pressed her down against the mattress. He loved the feel of her soft, curvy body against his, how they fit together. She was shaped like a goddess, touched by faeries. Her groan rose in pitch. He covered her mouth with his hand in an attempt to mute the sound.
“Shh.” He kissed her cheek, trying to ease the need and ignore his throbbing cock.
She panted for breath, her lashes dark crescents against her glistening skin.
“You can’t make noises like that,” he whispered.
“I can be quiet.” Her voice hit new notes. Needy, plaintive.
He wasn’t so sure. Last time she’d...lost herself in the throes of passion. He’d been certain he’d broken her.
“Maybe we should wait. Give ourselves time to...decide if this is what we want.” He didn’t need time, but perhaps she did.
“No,” she whisper-wailed. “We go back to DC the day after Christmas, I’m there for a day, and then I go home. When would we see each other? There isn’t time. I can be quiet.”
Fucking hell, she stared at him, her eyes so hungry. He wanted to sate her appetite. Feed his own.
“What if...?” She licked her lips and glanced to the side. “What if I was on my stomach? The pillows would keep me quiet, right?”
“I don’t think you realize how loud you get.” He was a bit smug about that.
“This time I’ll be quieter. Declan.” She thumped her knuckles against his shoulder. “You can’t kiss me like that then send me to bed.”
Pouting didn’t look right on her, but it was kind of cute to watch her try.
Rashae was...regal. Queens didn’t pout, but he wasn’t about to tell her the expression didn’t work for her. Still, he could see her point. If she was trying to be quiet, and if she had the pillows on hand, would it work?
His dick throbbed an enthusiastic yes. Plus—those hips. He wouldn’t mind holding on tight while he slaked his thirst. Positioned like that, he’d hit all the right nerves for her, too...
“Is it worth getting caught?” he asked.
“We won’t get caught.” She hooked her leg around the back of his thigh, cradling his body closer. “
I can be very quiet.”
He doubted that, but they could be quiet enough.
“Up.” He patted her thigh.
He rolled off the side of the bed and she scrambled after him.
Declan circled to the foot of the old bed, grabbed the footboard and tugged the heavy sucker down a few inches.
Rashae watched him, her thumbs hooked in the waistband of her jeans.
“Smart.” She grinned and shimmied out of her pants.
He turned his back on the sight, following the mental checklist of needs-before-sex.
The bed was moved. It wouldn’t thump against the wall.
The laptop was now on the floor under the bed, so it wouldn’t fall.
Now—condom.
Declan didn’t usually pack extras, but this time he had. And a damn good thing he had. He ripped the square off the strip in his bag and turned around.
Rashae had lost her jeans, socks and shirt. The emerald green bra and panties shimmered against her rich brown skin. She wrapped her arms around herself and tipped her chin down.
He walked toward her as if in a trance. She was his focus. His reason for being here. The wild, free thing he wanted to hold onto. For a moment. A second.
She took a step back for each of his two. At least until her back hit the narrow strip of wall between the windows. Her throat flexed as she swallowed, her chest rising and falling with her accelerated breathing.
It might be wrong, but he liked having the upper hand. In this moment, the control was his. And it was a precious thing.
Rashae was a strong woman. She could ask anyone she wanted to be her side piece and she’d asked—trusted—him. Eventually, she’d realize he was a good-for-nothing plonker, but for now, these moments, she was his to do with as he pleased. And he took great pleasure in giving her reason to make all those delicious little sounds.
He slid his fingers across her shoulder. She exhaled and he curled his fingers under her bra strap, pulling it aside.
“You sure about this?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Stop asking me questions.”
“You have to answer this one.”
He edged closer and she tipped her chin up. Their lips were close now. He could kiss her. Take her answer in the way her body reacted to his, but he wanted the words. To hear her say—
“I want you, Declan.” Her hands were smooth as silk against his hips, his back, tugging him closer.
He bent his head, sealing his mouth over hers. He pinned her to the wall with his greater weight.
True to her word, her whimpers, those needy little sounds, were quieter. Muted. But still there. Still urging him on.
Declan tugged her bra straps down her shoulders until they confined her arms to her sides. He’d have to be careful with the delicate material.
He leaned back and she tried to follow him, but he kept one hand against her, holding her to the wall.
Her lips were glossy. Swollen. Her eyes were dilated. Lids heavy.
She tipped her head back against the wall, staying right where he put her. In this, she was giving him the control he needed, even if she didn’t yet realize it.
Declan ran his hands down her sides, the dip of her stomach and flare of her hips. The panties covered just enough to make his imagination a little—a lot—crazy. He lowered to one knee, using just his fingertips to draw the garment down her hips and thighs. He let go, and gravity did the rest.
He kissed her stomach, her hip.
“Noooo. I didn’t promise to be quiet for that.” She dug her hands into his hair and tugged.
Declan chuckled and kissed her other hip anyway. She tugged harder, more urgently, but he wasn’t of a mind to listen. Not yet. She could hold her tongue for a moment longer.
He slid his hand between her legs. She shifted, widening her stance.
“Declan.” She groaned his name.
“Christ,” he muttered against her stomach. Her skin was slippery, damp, ready.
Was it just yesterday they’d discovered how good they could be together?
“On the bed.” He sat back on his heels and patted her leg.
She dove for the mattress, kicking the comforter down and balling the plush pillow into a mound of fluff.
Was this really happening?
He wanted to pinch himself, but how would he explain that?
Declan swallowed and stood. He shoved his boxers down.
Another day, he’d take his time tasting and touching all of her, but these stolen moments had to be maximized or the window of opportunity would be gone. He snagged the condom off the nightstand. Rashae tilted her head to the side, not the least bit shy about watching him, and he liked it. She looked at him with desire. Like a man she wanted to be with.
He gave his dick a little squeeze.
Down boy.
He grabbed the thick, decorative cushion off the backless chair in front of the window opposite the bed and shoved it under Rashae’s hips, lifting her bottom. Her spine curved in the most seductive fashion and she peaked up at him with one eye.
“You’re goin’ to be quiet?” He grasped the base of his cock again.
She nodded, her curls shaking vigorously.
If he were an honorable man, he’d never have allowed things to go this far. He wanted her too badly to turn her down.
Declan climbed on the bed, sliding his knees between her legs, forcing them apart more. He palmed the globes of her firm ass. She lifted her hips, face down in the pillows.
“You sure you can be quiet?” He doubted she could ever be silent, but quiet was possible.
Her curls shook with a vigorous yes.
He stroked his hands up her back. Was there a place she wasn’t soft?
“If I have to stop, it’s for your own good.”
Her curls shook again with a firm no.
Declan carefully released the catch on her bra. She didn’t move to relieve herself of the garment. He braced himself on one arm, his dick nestled in the crack of her ass, and slid his other hand between her and the mattress. Her nipple was tight, aroused, just like the rest of her. He rubbed his thumb over the stiff point.
Her groan was muffled, but still audible to his ears alone.
“You sure you want me to fuck you?” He kissed her shoulder to keep his own groan silent as she shifted against him, stroking his erection with her curves.
Her body seemed to shudder under his touch, reacting to him so deliciously.
“You have to keep very, very quiet.” He kissed across her shoulders, shifting his weight to his other arm so he could tease the other breast.
Her sounds of want were indeed quieter, muted. His better sense said this was a terrible idea, but they were already too far down this road to go back.
Declan pushed up, stroking his hands down her body.
He’d make her come. He’d show her just what her body could do. And then he’d do it again, if she’d let him.
He grasped his cock, sliding the head of it between her slick folds. She lifted off the cushion, pressing against him, so wet and ready. Declan sliding deep within her body before he stopped, catching his breath. Her mewls were barely audible, but he didn’t need those to read the signs of her desire. He withdrew and thrust, her vaginal walls yielding to his intrusion. Her foot kicked the mattress next to him and his vision blurred. His balls rest against her mound, their bodies joined.
He pitched forward, covering her body with his, and kissed her shoulders, up her neck. She squeezed him with her pussy, her hips shifting against him, but she couldn’t force him to move.
“Fuckin’ hell, you feel good,” he whispered. “Hold on tight to your pillow.”
Declan pushed up a bit. Her pussy hugged him so tight he was the one trying to keep quiet pulling out. He grit his teeth.
There.
He plunged back in. Rashae’s body shook with their joining and the notes of her moan let him know he wasn’t the only one having pleasurable problems.
This wa
sn’t going to work.
He straightened and grasped her hips, lifting her up a bit.
That was it.
He closed his eyes in an attempt to rein himself in, and focused on the feel of her body against his. He slid out, focusing on the easy glide, her smell. He thrust, and his thoughts scattered.
She felt so damn good.
He couldn’t go slow. Slow would kill him.
He thrust faster, teeth grit against his own sounds of pleasure. Her feet kicked, spurring him on.
Rashae wrapped her arms around the pillow nearly engulfing her head. Her pussy walls clamped down and his vision blurred. Release so sudden, so powerful he lost his ability to breathe rushed through him. He opened his mouth on a silent shout as every bit of his seed pumped out into the condom.
Fuck—it was even better a second time around.
He eased out of her and flopped on the bed, pulling her toward him. She gasped for breath, boneless and spent.
“Good?” he asked.
“Better.”
He grinned and kissed her cheek.
13.
R
ashae passed out the pieces, keeping her gaze on the board. If she looked at him, she was very likely going to explode. Her body still hummed with a delicious sense of awareness from last night.
“These pieces, they go—here?” Samantha asked.
Rashae leaned over and pointed at the spots on the board. She glanced at her sister, their gazes snagging before they both shifted their attention to their player boards.
Last night when Rashae dove down the hall to her room, she’d practically run into Sam coming up the stairs. Judging from the way her sister’s hair was messed up and the inside-out shirt, Rashae was pretty sure she wasn’t the only one sneaking around. Sam hadn’t asked her about Declan. Yet. But it was coming. And then what was she going to say?
Sam and Oliver were engaged.
Rashae and Declan were friends. They weren’t even dating.
She could already feel her sister’s judgment.
“Okay, so we move these pieces around the board, controlling an area and scoring victory points—or things that will lead to victory points, right?” Dad was thoroughly engrossed in the complicated game, which was a blessing.
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