by Lindsey Hart
Instead, he lowered his mouth to her sex and ran his tongue along the stain there, sucking her panties into his mouth, tasting her and wetting them further. Ambi thrashed below him. Her nails raked against his scalp. She was ferocious, and god, he loved it. He wanted to do battle with her. He wanted to see the ferocious, pent up, angry, wonton side that she’d never showed him.
“What do you want, Ambi? My mouth on you?”
“Yes,” she begged. “Yes. Put your mouth on me.”
“Even if it’s a filthy mouth?”
“Especially if it’s a filthy mouth, you dork.”
Trey gave her what she wanted. He licked and suckled her through her panties, the fabric so wet that they clung to her sex, outlining every single gorgeous detail. She’d always preferred getting waxed and she was smooth, gorgeous, and glorious. She tasted sweet and raw, exactly as he remembered. She flooded her panties, soaking through the fabric as he drove her wild.
She thrashed against the floor, opening herself to him, pushing her pelvis into his face. When he thrust a finger underneath her panties, she was scalding hot, slick and soaked. He trailed his finger over her blazing hot folds while she just about ripped his hair out. When he slipped a finger inside, she went wild. He groaned against her soaked panties. She was so tight. So fucking tight.
If her rapid breathing and the increased tempo of her moans and her half-stammered please were any indications, she was also very, very close.
She wasn’t going to beg him. She’d never begged for him to give her pleasure. He wanted to hear the please fall from her lips. His name. Anything. She kept her mouth resolutely shut, refusing to give up control completely and he didn’t fault her. He hoped he had time to wear down her defenses. To hear his name falling from her sugar-coated lips.
He thrust his finger inside of her again and at the same time, positioned his mouth over her clit. He sucked her, through her panties and all, rolling his tongue over the tight bud. It was all it took. She shattered beneath him, bucking her hips and writhing as the climax took hold and washed over her. He kept going, thrusting his finger deep inside of her and suckling her clit, prolonging her pleasure.
He held out as long as he could, then he reared up over her, claiming her mouth and kissing her brutally. He kissed her so hard that their teeth clanged together, but they didn’t stop. Ambi whimpered and ground against him, chasing another climax close on the heels of the first. He wanted to give that to her. He ground his pelvis against her panty clad heat, his cock begging to be let inside. He didn’t have a condom and he knew that was a no-fucking-go, for a ton of obvious reasons. Even if Ambi was on the pill, there was no way he was going in bareback. That was too intimate, too fast, too soon.
He wanted to keep creating that friction, dry-wet humping her like a teenage kid, but his control slipped. One second he had it together, the next, he lost it. He kissed the shit out of her, their bodies heaving together, drinking in what little oxygen she had left to give, marveling over how perfect they still fit together- maybe even more perfect than they had before- and the next there was a black screen filled up with bright flashing lights behind his eyes and he was coming, in thick, hot spurts all over Ambi’s panties, her stomach, her thighs.
Trey jerked back as soon as it happened. He stared down at Ambi, at what he’d just done. It was dirty and it was so ridiculously hot. He still felt like he should apologize though since he hadn’t meant to get that carried away and he definitely hadn’t asked her permission to take things that far.
Before he could get the words out, she froze. Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced down at her stomach. The next instant, every muscle in her body stiffened, like she was slowly turning to stone, one muscle at a time.
“Ambi, I-”
“Just get off me.” She shoved at him, which would have been a butterfly trying to move a polar bear, but he got the picture and rolled away before her wildly swinging hands could connect with any of his more vital parts.
He complied, scrambling away. He glanced around wildly, spotted the blanket that he’d been covered up with, and scrambled to get it.
“Not the blanket!” Ambi ground out. She sat up and stormed off down the hall, slamming the bathroom door shut behind her.
Trey stood there like an idiot. Completely. Naked.
He figured he had better not be standing that way by the time Ambi emerged. Who knew what she’d be coming out of the bathroom with? She probably kept objects like curling irons and scissors in there and god knew what else that she could use as a weapon.
He went straight to the dryer and opened the door. His clothes were pretty much dry, though he did basically scald himself putting his pants on with the hot zipper. Thank god his boxers provided enough of a shield that his man bits didn’t take the brunt of the heat.
Thankfully, he was doing up the last button on his shirt when Ambi emerged from the bathroom. She had a fluffy pink robe wrapped around herself, one he remembered seeing on the back of the bathroom door. Her eyes were tear-filled, even after she swiped at them with the back of her hand. He hated her tears. He didn’t want her to cry. Her wobbling lips felt like a knife straight to his stomach.
“Ambi- I- seriously. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I- it- please. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, her already mussed hair flying wildly like a black velvet curtain all around her. “It wasn’t that,” she sighed. She sounded tired. So. Fucking. Tired. “It’s everything. This- this never should have happened.”
“No- it- it should have. I- Ambi, we were good together. We could be good again. Please. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.”
She shook her head again and his hopes sunk lower and lower with every movement. Her eyes filled up with tears again, but she blinked rapidly, refusing to let them fall.
“The biggest mistake of my life wasn’t getting dumped by you. It was letting you think we could ever do this again. We can’t. That was the biggest mistake of my life. Right there.”
“Ambi-”
She put up her hand, silencing him. “No. Just go. Now.”
“Come on. At least sit down and let’s talk-”
“Right now!” She stamped her barefoot for emphasis.
It was pretty obvious that anything he had to say was just going to make everything worse. He had to try. One more time. He couldn’t walk out like this. He’d been stupid enough to let her go before. He wasn’t ready to make that mistake again.
“I really am sorry. We’re- what we- I still l-”
There was no way she was letting him get that out. Her eyes widened to the point where they looked like they were going to pop out. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “You need to go downstairs now. Wait there until the storm is over. I don’t care if it takes until morning. You can sleep in the damn desk chair or go out and brave the storm if you want, but you can’t be here. Not in my apartment. Not anywhere near me.”
Her throat bobbed viciously as she swallowed. He watched it all, her face, for any signs that she might yield, but she was closed off. A blank wall that he couldn’t bulldoze without bulldozing everything that they’d built back up.
“We- the job…”
“I’ll still do the job.” Her chin angled up. “You don’t have to even ask me that. Now, just, please… go.”
Trey knew he had no choice. Not at the moment. If he wanted to lose this battle and still win the war, he had to do as she asked. So, he did. He turned and left her just like he’d left her five years ago. In pain, angry, nearly broken.
He vowed that he’d keep fighting. That he could fix things, but the truth was, he was no longer sure. He wasn’t sure that he could win Ambi back when she didn’t want to be won. He thumped down the steps, back to Ambi’s office and parked his ass in her upholstered desk chair. He propped his feet up on her desk and watched the storm still raging outside.
It was time to pull out all the stops. All. Of. Them.
CHAPTER 12
Amber
ina
The first thing Ambi looked for the next morning was her phone. Not because she was eager to see who was texting her at the butt crack of dawn, but because she was going to be sure to block their number from her phone so they could never wake her up at five in the morning again
Of course, the text was from Trey.
Got home safe. Got my car. Everything’s good. I have another venue I’d like you to see. Meet me there at nine?
Ambi groaned and threw her head back against the pillow. God. As if last night wasn’t enough humiliation. Now she had to submit to Mr. Evil all over again. Of course, he’d mess with her plans to book the hall that he’d agreed on the day before. Thankfully, she hadn’t actually done it yet, because of the storm. She gave her head a shake, thrashing against the pillow and probably matting her hair up unmercifully in the process. Mr. Evil had a real nice ring to it. It described Trey perfectly.
Much better than Mr. Eat Me Out Until I’m Glowing Red With Embarrassment And Pleasure And Still Have To Do A Walk Of Shame In My Own House To Get His Clothes Out Of The Dryer Before I Could Kick Him The Hell Out And Die Of Mortification.
Yes. Mr. Evil was much, much better.
At the thought of what Trey had done to her, Ambi let out another groan. It wasn’t overly warm in the room- with the radiators, it never truly was- but suddenly her limbs suffused with heat and she felt achy, almost feverish.
How the hell did Trey even get someone to agree to a meeting first thing in the morning? Was he on a first-name basis with the woman who worked at the venue? Did he call her in the middle of the night?
Something wicked and hot bubbled up her throat. Jealousy. She wanted to laugh at herself, but the new level of pathetic she’d just reached wasn’t funny at all. It was just that. PA to the T to the T-H-E-T-I-C.
Why couldn’t he just make anything simple? Why couldn’t he sit back and let her do her job? He’d hired her and paid her a ridiculous amount of money to do the stupid party planning, yet he was the one coming up with alternative venues. Trey’s face flooded her mind and with it, the image of her juices smeared all over his chin. Unfortunately, her brain also conjured up images of the sunning he’d given her… and the moon. He had a really good moon. He had an even nicer sun.
God. No. Fudgeballs. Buttstinker. Why her? Aren’t there any other women out there for Trey to torment?
Why her? Why her indeed. He’d sat at the table, smug as he fricking well pleased, to tell her that he was just waiting for the right time to get back with her because she was so pathetic there was no way she would have moved on with anyone else.
This time, she imagined Trey’s naked moon staring her full-on, but she was chasing after him with an angry expression on her face and a very deadly, very zappy, very painful cattle prod. It would be no less than he deserved. What he did not deserve was mercy. What he did not deserve was to be proven right. Annnnd that’s exactly what she did by spreading her legs for him.
Ambi gripped her phone until the case dug into the tender flesh of her palm. She felt like a caged animal. A wild bird who had just had its wings clipped so that it could never go back to enjoying life as it knew it before.
She knew she had to respond. She’d keep it professional. Clean. She wouldn’t let Trey back her into a corner. She’d make it clear by her abruptness, curtness, and coldness that what happened the night before was a mistake of the most epic proportions.
Fine. Nine. Text me the address.
She didn’t ask if the streets were cleared. She didn’t doubt that the plows would have been working double time and if things didn’t look great when she actually got out of bed and looked out, she’d call for a cab.
Of course, Trey did. Her phone pinged with it a second later. Just the address. Nothing else. No follow up. No apology. No freaking nothing. Great.
How could she let him do this to her? He had all the power. He held all the cards. She let him get away with it. She gave him the power. She surrendered her cards. She’d let him go down on her and she’d come. And he knew it. And then he’d freaking come too. Obviously.
Ambi threw her phone back on the nightstand and rolled out of bed. What she needed was a cold shower. Which she could never bring herself to actually take, so what she’d do was have a hot shower, wash any traces of Trey off of her, get out, get dressed, put on her big girl panties, make herself a cup of coffee and go show Trey that he didn’t own her. He might be able to pull biologically exciting reactions from her traitorous body, but the real things didn’t and wouldn’t ever belong to him. Her heart would never be his. Her spirit would never be broken.
If only things weren’t so confusing. If only her body wasn’t so reactionary and instinctual. If only it didn’t betray her at every turn. Her heart was hers. She needed it to be. Which was why she hated the burning ache in the center of her chest with a passion that she usually reserved for turnip, liver, and traffic jams.
Trey didn’t mean anything. He was wrong. She’d moved on. She’d moved on like she said. With herself. With her business. With her family and friends. She was fulfilled and she was happy and there were absolutely no gaps in her armor or cracks in her walls. It only took a short time to form a habit. She’d make a habit of believing it until it was the truth.
CHAPTER 13
Trey
Ambi strolled through the set of double glass doors that fronted the hall much like the storm that had crippled the city the day before. With deadly precision and brutal cold. Not an ounce of her sleek, shiny black hair was out of place. Her entire freaking outfit- a grey blazer and grey pants which were covered up with a stylish red jacket that flared out at the waist- was immaculate. She’d paired everything with incredibly unsuitable for the weather, black stilettos that instantly made Trey hard as a fucking rock, since he imagined her naked, with nothing else on but those four or five-inch heels.
Her makeup was perfection, her face schooled into a look of unaffected, easy charm that he knew immediately she didn’t feel. Her eyes betrayed her. They were seething pools of wrath.
“This place, Trey, really?” Ambi asked sweetly, with enough sugar to give him diabetes. She slid her black leather gloves from her hands and tucked them into her black tote. “I think we both know that your father would shit bricks if the party was here.”
Hmm. Two can play at this. Ambi was acting like she had no idea what the real significance behind the hall was when really, he knew she had a memory like an elephant. There was no way she wouldn’t have recognized it, even though it had been a long time and they’d both been more than slightly drunk.
“Give me three good reasons this place wouldn’t work?”
Ambi glanced around, taking in the ancient fixtures and outdated trimmings. From floor to ceiling, the place really was old and rotted. The hall was built in the sixties and wasn’t modern in that good kind of retro way. It was ugly, with shit brown and puke yellow-green as its prominent color scheme. And that was just the entrance. The main part of the hall, one big room, was made of cinder blocks painted white and had a hardwood floor that resembled a really shitty elementary school gym. It was complete with a stage painted- you guessed it, shit brown and a set of- you also guessed it- puke yellow-green curtains that draped across.
He’d already gone in and inspected everything. The woman in charge of opening up the hall and taking the bookings, Doris, who was likely pushing one hundred and fifty, gave him the key and told him to take his time and call her on her landline when he was done. She’d really said that. About the landline. She was far, far too trusting, but then again, he’d offered to become a bronze sponsor of the place, which meant donating ten thousand dollars, if she could meet him before nine to let him in and give him an hour alone in the place. He’d also given her his credit card number and a promise that he wouldn’t burn the place down.
Trey stalked over and locked the front door behind Ambi. She watched him, her brows arrowed in, her eyes folded into narrow slits of suspicion.
�
�Sorry. The lady who takes the bookings had another appointment. She gave me the key and instructed me to lock the door and not let anyone else in while she was gone. Just protecting her interests and all.”
Ambi muttered something under her breath and stalked off. Oh yeah. There was no way she didn’t remember what had gone down at that hall back in college.
“This place is absolutely not going to work!” Ambi raged the second she walked into the main part of the hall. Her voice echoed through the empty place. “It looks like a bad high school reunion would happen here. Not a high-class office party. You would ruin my business for sure if I let you hold it here.”
He entered the hall behind her, and when she whirled, the rage from her eyes had boiled over to her face. Her nostrils flared and she almost stamped her foot. She caught herself at the last second and instead, dropped her tote to the floor by her feet and crossed her arms.
“Seriously. What was wrong with the venue yesterday? It’s classy. It’s nice. It’s tasteful. It screams money. All the things that your father likes and his company stands for.”
“I get a say in it. That’s what’s wrong with it. I didn’t like it. I like this place. It will work fine.”
The look of panic that flashed across Ambi’s face nearly made him laugh, but that would have ruined everything.
“Are you- are you actually serious? If you are, I’m going to fight you on this one. Tooth and nail. This isn’t even big enough to properly host everything and I guarantee you that the place doesn’t offer catering. You’ll have to have food brought in. Do you know how much work that is? It’s another thing I’d have to book and right now, it’s looking grim for the entertainment. Catering would be a disaster. Short of getting some dubious food truck, you’d probably be right out of luck.”