by Evelyn Adams
And God, holding her in his arms, having her warm round body curled against him while her damp head nestled under his chin was almost his undoing. Balancing her in his arms, he nudged the duvet down and gently laid her in the center of his bed. He took a deep breath, praying she wouldn’t see how unsteady he was. What the hell was going on with him? With hands that managed not to shake he started unwrapping the terry cloth from her body, leaving her naked in front of him like the best present he’d ever received. Raising her arms above her head, she stretched, her back arching.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said, his balls tightening against his body in delicious anticipation. “Stay just like that. Keep your arms above your head.”
She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his, her green eyes dark and wide. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he climbed onto the bed and up her body, pausing to cup her breasts. While she watched him he drew first one nipple and then the other into his mouth, suckling her until her eyes drifted shut and her fingers gripped the headboard. When her breath came in shallow gasps and her luscious lips parted, he straddled her, his iron hard cock jutting between her breasts. She raised her head to swirl her pink tongue around his aching round head, and his hips thrust forward on their own.
She opened her mouth and ran her tongue along the underside of his cock. The flash of her green eyes and the look that said she knew exactly what she was doing to him did him in. He fisted his hand in her damp hair, anchoring her head to the pillow while he guided his cock between her lips. Sucking greedily, she raised up to take him deep in her throat meeting his need with a hunger of her own.
“Fuck, Claire,” he said, the strain clear in his voice. “Suck me, sweetheart. That’s it. Take all of it.” He crooned the stream of words while she worked her hot mouth up and down his cock, hollowing her cheeks as she pulled away. He felt the movement deep in his balls, as if every stroke of her mouth was drawing his climax from him, coaxing him closer and closer to the edge until he didn’t think he could hold back a moment longer.
Forcing himself to pull away from the pleasure she offered, he wedged his hips between her legs. She parted eagerly for him, opening and angling her hips to give him better access to her core. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. He needed to be inside her more than he’d ever needed anything. Guiding her knees up and out, spreading her legs wide, he palmed her ass and raised her hips until he was in line with her body. His cock nudged her tight swollen opening, and he sucked in a deep breath.
Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he slid home seating himself deep inside her body. Her eyes widened, her sweet mouth opening to a round O of pleasure. Wedded together in the most intimate way she looked deep into his eyes, and he saw himself reflected in the green pools. It was as if more than their bodies connected. Somewhere deep inside him he felt the tug of her soul reaching for his.
It was more than he could take and at the same time not enough. A small quiet part of him realized in that moment it would never be enough. He could never get enough of her, never get close enough to her. Even his body inside hers wasn’t enough. The vulnerability of how much he’d come to need her overwhelmed him even as it terrified him. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t know how to love her so he did what he knew, retreating to the one thing that had always served him.
He thrust, rolling his hips, deliberately dragging the head of his cock over the place just inside her opening that he knew would take her over the edge. Her eyes fluttered closed and her back bowed as he drove inside her, thrusting with punishing abandon. Claire gripped the headboard with knuckles gone white, her breath punctuated with cries of pleasure which shot straight to his cock.
Using every ounce of control he had, he fucked her, determined to have her screaming his name in pleasure before he found his own release. But when she opened her eyes and her gaze met his, something in his world shifted and suddenly he wanted so much more for both of them than another orgasm. He opened his mouth, the words that would change everything on the tip of his tongue but he caught himself at the last minute without saying anything.
Instead he reached for her hands, gently peeling her fingers from the headboard. Her arms immediately went around his back, and he slid his hands through her hair, resting his weight on his elbows while he cradled her head against his chest. Stroking into her over and over, he held her nestled against him, precious and cherished while he tried to show her with his body the things he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud.
He felt the moment her climax started. Her pussy tightened around his cock, milking him and she cried out, her lips scorching against his chest. His cock throbbed and his balls pulled tight to his body, pulsing as he emptied himself into her, branding her even as she stole what was left of his heart.
CLAIRE PULLED INTO THE PARKING lot at Oakwood Manor and turned off the car. She’d left Luke’s penthouse, stopping at her place long enough to change her clothes before making the drive to see her dad. Her apartment felt more like a closet than a home. She’d been spending so much time at Luke’s; she hadn’t been using her place as much more than a stop in. Up until the fight yesterday, she’d been more shocked by how little it bothered her than by how easily it had happened.
It still floored her how much everything changed in twenty-four hours. Climbing out of Luke’s bed that morning left her feeling raw. There had been so many times when they were making love that she’d wanted to tell him that she loved him. For a moment she’d been sure he was about to say it. She saw it in his eyes when he moved inside her, but he held back. Anyway, maybe it was her love for him she saw reflected there, and there was no way she’d say it again. Once out on that limb by herself was more than enough.
Holding in her feelings left her uncertain and on shaky footing, a situation only exacerbated by the fact that she had to deal with the aftermath of Pete’s death. Including what, if anything, to tell her father. Pete and her dad had been close – friends. He’d want to know what happened, but that was only if he was clear enough to remember who Pete was.
God, she hated the fucking disease that was stealing her father from her. In some ways she thought losing him in bits and pieces was worse than if he’d just died. But then he’d have a clear day, and it was like she had her daddy back again. She’d just have to decide what to do when she got inside and saw what kind of day he was having. Taking a deep slow breath, she straightened the gray silk blouse and climbed out of her car, running a hand over the black pencil skirt to smooth away the wrinkles from sitting.
The clothes were the ones Luke had gotten for her when they went to New York. With the things she had to do, they seemed more appropriate than her normal work clothes, and ridiculously they made her feel closer to him. She had no idea what she and Luke were doing or what to think about everything that had happened the day before. The only thing she was sure of was that she felt better in Luke’s arms than anywhere on earth, and when he moved inside her, it was like parts of her which had been out of alignment for years slid into place.
She pushed open the door, stepping into a hallway that smelled like vegetable soup and antiseptic. Walking as fast as her heels would let her, she hurried past Mr. Easton’s office. The smarmy little man had some kind of crush on Luke and the last thing she wanted to do was get stuck answering endless questions about Mr. Masters. She made her way to the nurse’s station in her father’s hall and found Becky standing there in her white shoes and nurse’s smock polka dotted with tiny pink hearts.
“Good Lord, child,” she said when she glanced up from her papers and saw Claire. “Don’t you look pretty.” The middle aged woman looked her up and down and came out from behind the counter. “But tired,” she said, keeping her far too perceptive gaze on Claire’s face. “Did something happen, honey? Are things with that hot young man of yours still okay?”
Claire gave Becky a small smile, not sure how to answer when she had absolutely no idea what was going on with the hot young man in question. “He’s okay. It’s something else,
” she said and then it occurred to her that she didn’t have to make the decision about what to tell her dad by herself. Becky probably knew better than she did what she should tell him. “Becky, can I ask your advice?”
“Of course, ask away.”
“One of my guys died on the job yesterday.” She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. Saying it out loud brought it all rushing back.
“Oh, honey,” said Becky, laying a hand on Claire’s arm, her dark eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too. Pete,” she said. “His name was Pete. He was with my dad from the beginning and I’m not sure what if anything I should tell Daddy about what happened. I don’t know if he’ll even remember him, but they were really close. Not telling him doesn’t seem right either.”
“I see what you mean,” she said thoughtfully.
Claire appreciated that she was taking her time to consider the situation and not rushing to answer.
“I think you should tell him.” she finally said. “He’s good today. He would want to know, and I know you don’t want to have to lie to him. Not any more often than you already have.”
She gave Claire’s arm another squeeze, and she knew the other woman was thinking of all the times Claire pretended her mother was still alive to keep from upsetting her father.
“I can come in with you if you’d like.”
“No, that’s okay. I can do it.”
“Okay, honey. I’ll check in on you in a little while. Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” said Claire, managing a smile. She rounded the corner and rapped softly on her father’s door, pushing it open when she heard his “come in.”
“Hey, pumpkin,” he said, his eyes lighting up when he saw her.
There were so few days anymore when her father’s mind was in the correct place and time, but the man looking up at her with love shining in his eyes was the man who’d raised her, who’d worked alongside her and been proud of everything she accomplished. He was the man who’d loved her mother every day of her life. Tears flooded her eyes, and before she could stop them, they spilled over, trailing down her cheeks. She swiped at them with the back of her hand, but she couldn’t seem to stop crying.
“What is it, Claire?” her father asked, concern evident in his clear green eyes.
“Oh, Daddy,” she said, sinking onto the edge of the bed nearest to his chair. “It’s Pete. There was an accident at the jobsite. He died.”
Her father reached for her hands, not speaking for a moment as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She waited to see if the news would throw him back into the place he sometimes retreated to or if he would stay in the present with her.
“The Ashton Court job?” he asked.
Despite the awfulness of everything which had happened, knowing her father understood what was going on – that she wasn’t on her own – let something deep in her chest relax a bit.
She nodded, pulling one hand free to swipe at her tears. “He fell.”
Her father drew in a breath, his frail shoulders expanding with the effort. It was one more example of the disease that was slowly eating away at the once powerful man. Growing up, she couldn’t imagine a man stronger than her father. Working side by side with him on jobsites, she’d seen that strength in action.
“How is Maria? Make sure you let her know that we’ll take care of her. Anything she needs. We owe that to Pete.” He ran his free hand through his hair in a gesture so familiar it made her heart ache. “There were times where I wouldn’t have been able to keep going without Pete. I remember once when a client strung me out on the final payment, Pete held off cashing his check for over a week until I could make good on it even though he and Maria couldn’t afford it any better than I could. Make sure you take care of her.”
“I will, Daddy. I’m going over there as soon as I leave here. I got tied up with the police last night, and she was gone by the time I got to the hospital. Bobby had taken her back to his place. I talked to him this morning. The family will all be at the house today.”
“Find out about the service. I want to be there to pay my respects.”
“Of course, Daddy,” she said, but inwardly she cringed. There was no guarantee he’d even remember who Pete was the day of the funeral or anyway to tell ahead of time how clear he would be.
“You said the police were there?” He waited for her to nod before continuing. “They don’t suspect anything other than an accident, do they?”
She swallowed hard. They’d gotten to the thing that troubled her most. “He fell from the sixth floor.”
Her father gasped, and she clung to his hand, needing him to stay present with her. To help her figure out what was going on.
“We’d gone over the plans earlier in the day.” She remembered Pete warning her about Luke and saying he wanted to look out for her like her father would if he was there, but she didn’t tell her daddy any of that. “The framers have been so slow on this job. They aren’t a Matthews subs. It’s an outside firm,” she said to clarify. “Anyway, it looked like they might actually finish on five in the next couple of days. Pete was going to move materials up and start to get ready for the rough-in.” As she spoke she pictured the bare concrete deck of the sixth floor and the window openings that had ultimately led to Pete’s death. Looking back, it didn’t make any more sense to her than it had last night. “The thing is,” she finally said. “There wasn’t any reason for him to be anywhere near those window openings.”
THERE WAS A soft rap on his door and Luke looked up from the same screen he’d been staring at for the past fifteen minutes. Between the feelings for Claire he was working hard to deny and the disaster at his jobsite, he’d lost his focus.
“Mr. Jackson is here to see you, sir,” said Luke’s assistant peering around the edge of his door.
“Thank you, Colin. Send him in.”
The door opened the whole way and Luke’s head of security entered wearing black slacks and a black shirt that managed to look like paramilitary wear even though Luke was fairly sure the slacks cost more than most uniforms.
“I’ve got the preliminary police report from the accident,” said Jackson, taking the seat opposite the desk Luke offered him. “There isn’t much to go on. If it wasn’t for the fact that there wasn’t any reason for Mr. Lester to be near the window or even the exterior wall for that matter, it would seem like a straight forward accident. That seems to be the direction the police are going with it although they did stop short of closing the case when I told them about the vandalism on Ms. English’s job like you asked me to. They will need to talk to her again and possibly you as well.”
“Do you think it was an accident?” Luke steepled his fingers and watched his head of security.
“I don’t have any reason to think it wasn’t. Not yet anyway,” said Jackson.
Luke nodded. “Point taken, but what do you think?”
“I think it’s strange that Ms. English’s property was vandalized the same week one of her men died on another jobsite. Aside from Ms. English herself, I haven’t found anything to connect the events but it’s an unusual coincidence and I don’t like coincidences. Do you know of anyone who might want to hurt her?”
The idea of anyone deliberately trying to hurt Claire made Luke’s blood run cold, and his hands fisted at his sides. He’d have to make sure she stayed with him and up the protection around her everywhere else. She’d bitch about it, but there was no way in hell he’d let anything happen to her. Fuck, he didn’t know how he’d live without her and he’d never let himself get in that position before. He did not do relationships, and he sure as hell didn’t fall in love. But something was happening between them and it had him twisted all the fuck up.
“Not to malign the Triad’s finest, but you’ll understand if I have more faith in your ability to get to the bottom of this.” He stared at Jackson and the other man met his gaze without flinching. “Use whatever resources you need but make sure she stays safe
. She’ll spend nights at my place, but I can’t stop her from working on that damn house of hers. And I can’t trust her not to go there without me.”
She’d hate the additional security and balk at the expense, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He couldn’t work and worry about her at the same time.
“Of course,” said Jackson. “We’ve already got cameras installed at Ms. English’s property. Although I doubt you’ll have any more trouble there.”
“What makes you so sure of that?” Luke trusted Jackson with his life and his head of security had proved more than once to be worthy of that trust, but he couldn’t understand why the bastards who vandalized Claire’s flip house would stop there. Especially if things were connected and they ended up being responsible for Pete’s death.
“They know you’re together. Those pictures from the 609 West building opening in New York are all over the internet. They would likely assume that by now you’d have your own security in place. And they would be right,” he said with as close to a smile as Jackson ever gave. “I’ll add surveillance to her apartment as well and increase her security detail. It will be easier and more effective if we don’t have to hide what we’re doing from her, but we can do it either way. It’s up to you, sir.”
“Don’t hide. I can’t promise that she’ll cooperate, but your men don’t have to hide from her.” God, she was going to be pissed. Luke shook his head, already regretting everything about the idea. “Try to find out if the events are related and who’s responsible for Mr. Lester’s death. I want the responsible party found and dealt with as soon as possible.”
He just hoped Jackson eliminated the threat to Claire before the steps Luke was taking to keep her safe drove her away.