by M. S. Parker
“You're so fucking beautiful.”
I looked over my shoulder, my eyes meeting his. Every cell was throbbing, needing more than what he'd already given. I needed him inside me, and if the way his cock was twitching was any indication, he needed to be inside me as well. He kept his eyes on me as he rolled on a condom and then settled on his knees behind me.
A sharp smack on my ass made me jump, and I glared at him but didn't say a word when he did it again. The pain had been sharp, but quick, gone before it really registered. Now, all I felt was heat spreading out from where his hand had been. I'd never gotten the appeal of spanking before, but now I was starting to wonder if maybe I had more in common with Carrie and her friends than I thought.
The hand on my breast moved to my hair, wrapping it around his fist until he controlled the movement of my head. Still, I didn't protest. I may not have had much experience with actual sex, but I did know my own body, and what he was doing made me impossibly wet. My nipples were hard points, my hands digging into the comforter. I'd never been so turned on.
The tip of him brushed against me, and that was the only warning I received before he drove into me with one fast, hard thrust. The sound I made could only be described as a wail, a long, wordless cry, full of every sensation ripping through my body. Too many conflicting signals raced across my nerves, firing pain and pleasure receptors until my brain couldn't decide what I was feeling.
The muscles in my thighs quivered, and I wondered how long I'd be able to hold myself up as Dax began to move with slow, deliberate strokes. Each one went deep, filling me thoroughly before he withdrew almost all the way. There was no pause, no hesitation. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to play my body.
I'd made a mistake, I realized, by having Dax be my first lover. I doubted any other man would be able to compare in bed. And I'd always compare them. I wouldn't be able to help it.
He tugged on my hair, using it as leverage while he rode my body, pushing us both toward the inevitable end. Every inch of me was overly sensitized from my two previous orgasms, my clit throbbing, my muscles clenching and squeezing. It wasn't going to take long.
His hand came down on my ass again, and that was all I needed. The sweet sting that made the heat in my belly boil over. This was a different orgasm than I'd ever had before, deeper somehow, and I closed my eyes to let it roll through and over me. I was dimly aware that I was calling out his name, but sound had little meaning at the moment. It was all about the place where our bodies joined, the places where we touched.
Then Dax gave a guttural groan, his body stiffening behind mine, and I knew he was coming. He pulled my hair hard enough to make my eyes water, his hand gripping my waist almost to the point of pain, and then his hands were gone, and my body was slumping down onto the bed.
I drifted as I heard him moving about a few moments later and wondered if he planned to pull a repeat of our first time. I hissed as a washcloth moved between my legs, the fabric rough against my sensitive skin, but I didn't push him away, and it wasn't only because I didn't have the strength. I wanted to see what he'd do next; if he'd actually wanted more than just a second round.
He moved me under the blankets and then crawled under with me. I could feel the uncertainty as he wrapped his arms around me, and I knew he was waiting to see if I would tell him to leave. I hadn't yet reached the level where words were possible again, so I snuggled closer to him instead and felt his body relax.
I didn't know what this meant, who we were to each other, or even if we'd both wake up and realize we'd made a mistake, but I wouldn’t dwell on any of that now. Whatever the future held would come eventually, and we'd deal with it then. Tonight, I would let myself fall asleep in his arms, grateful that I'd come to New York.
Filled with hope for the wonderful things to come.
Chapter Thirteen
My phone ringing pulled me from a sweet, and dreamless sleep. As I rolled over and picked it up, I noticed two things in rapid succession. First, it was already nine thirty in the morning. Second, I had three missed calls, including the one that had just woken me up. Caller ID said the call came from a private number, which didn't really tell me much of anything, but whoever it was had at least left a voicemail so I could find out before I decided whether or not to call back.
It wasn't until I sat up to listen to the message that the deep throbbing ache between my legs reminded me I hadn't gone to bed alone. I glanced toward the empty space next to me, my stomach clenching as I realized Dax was gone.
Again.
Before I could read too much into it, however, my eye fell on a piece of paper that lay on the pillow beside me. The curtains were drawn so the room was still too dark for me to read the note, so I flipped on the light even as I unfolded the piece of paper.
Dinner tonight. Meet at the club.
Okay, so it wasn't a love note, or even an explanation as to where he'd gone, but it was something. More than something, actually. He could've just left a thanks for a good time and it would've been as good as last time. This was him saying that he wanted to see me again.
I shivered as I remembered the things he'd told me, the things he wanted to do to me. He'd done some of them, and I wondered if his note was a promise of more to come.
I wasn't going to assume any more than that. I'd entertained the idea of a friendship with him where sex was an option, and that was all I was going to hope for. We'd both said we didn't want a relationship, and I still meant it. I had too much else going on to deal with everything that came with dating. Especially dating someone like Dax. I didn't know a lot about him, but I knew enough to know that nothing would be simple.
Still, I couldn't stop the smile that came to my lips when I thought about being able to count on Dax for regular, mind-blowing sex. Maybe we could even get into some of the things he'd seen while working at Club Privé.
A part of me was tempted to text him, tell him to forget dinner, and come straight back to the hotel.
Instead, I did the responsible thing and picked up my phone to call my voicemail.
“Bryne, this is Jacqueline Jamison, the casting director for Collide. I'd like to send out your contract. I just have a couple questions. Give me a call.”
I listened to the message twice to make sure I had the number right, and then called it back, all thoughts of Dax pushed aside. Well, most of them anyway. Considering how well-used my body felt, it'd be impossible for me not to have him hovering in the back of my mind for at least a couple days.
The conversation with Jacqueline was short, but when I ended the call, I felt like I'd taken a straight shot of caffeine or adrenaline or something. I was wide awake now, synapses humming. Jacqueline had a contract for me. What I'd come to New York for, what I'd been wanting to do since I was a kid, wasn't just a possibility anymore. It was actually happening.
And that meant I couldn't spend the rest of the morning lounging around in bed thinking about Dax and sex. I had things I had to do. The first of which was calling Carrie to tell her that I'd given her name as being the lawyer who'd look over my contract. I knew she wasn't an entertainment lawyer, but her friend Krissy worked in that field, and I knew Carrie would ask if she needed to.
The second thing I had to do was get in the shower because I wasn't about to leave the hotel looking like I'd just been well and truly fucked. Granted, I had, but I couldn’t walk back into Carrie and Gavin's like that. Gavin was annoyed with me enough already as it was.
When I got out of the shower, however, I changed my plans. Todd had texted me. Apparently, he'd gotten his call today too, and wanted to meet for lunch to schedule practice times outside of general rehearsal. A thrill went through me as I read the message. Part of me was still waiting for someone to tell me that a mistake had been made, that things weren't really coming together for me so quickly.
Since Dax and I hadn't exactly planned our little liaison, I didn't have any clean clothes, but fortunately for me, the hotel had a boutique so
I only had to go downstairs to find a cute sweater and skirt combination that would be perfect for lunch at Tavern on the Green.
The weather matched my mood as I stepped outside. Clear blue skies, bright shining sun. It was still cold, but it was the sort of cold I found invigorating. I had plenty of time before I was supposed to meet Todd, so rather than spending it in a cab, I opted for a walk to Central Park. The exercise would do me good. Work out all the kinks and stiff muscles that I'd accumulated thanks to dancing and sex.
Heat rushed to my cheeks, giving the cold air a bit more bite. I had a feeling Todd was going to want to know how things went with Dax last night, and if I was being completely honest, I wanted someone to talk to about it. Carrie wouldn't judge, I knew, but I didn't want to put her in an awkward position with Gavin. Better to keep them on a “need to know” basis when it came to any specifics with my sex life, especially when Dax was involved.
I was so caught up in thoughts of what could be in my future that I didn't notice someone walking straight toward me until she stopped directly in front of me. I pulled myself up short, just missing colliding with her.
“Sorry.” I gave her a bright smile and moved to step around her.
Her hand shot out and grabbed my arm. I forced myself to keep the smile on my face. “Can I help you?”
Sunlight glinted off of the silver ring in her eyebrow as she glared at me. “Yeah, you can help me.” She leaned close and I could smell the cigarette smoke on her breath. “Stay the fuck away from my man.”
“Excuse me?” I racked my brain to try to find some recognition. Long light brown hair. Coal black eyes. Only a couple inches taller than me. Pretty in a rough kind of way. But I couldn't place her.
“Dax.” Her fingers dug into my arm. “Stay away from him. He's mine.”
She shoved me backwards and I barely kept myself from falling. She stalked past me without another word, leaving me to stare after her.
What the hell had just happened?
Continues in Club Privé: Collide Vol. II. Turn the page to keep reading.
Collide Vol. 2
Chapter One
Dax
I'd gotten pretty good at lying, especially these last few years. My mom would've said I was a little too good if she'd known just how often I did it, but half the time, I did it to protect her. I tried not to lie too much to her face, but lying to myself was a different story. I told myself all sorts of shit so I'd do what needed to be done. I was pretty sure that wasn't one of my lies. It had only been me and Mom my whole life, and since she got hurt, it'd been my job to take care of her.
Okay, so maybe I used that as an excuse not to get involved with anyone, but the truth was, once I fucked a woman, I really didn't have any further use for her. I was sure some people considered me an asshole for having that attitude, but I always made sure the woman I was with knew that going in. I made sure she got off, and I never treated her like trash, which was more than some guys, but she knew the whole time it was only sex.
Bryne Dawkins hadn't been any different. She wasn't any different.
Dammit.
As I looked down at her, some small part of me called me out for lying. The lighting in the hotel room was dim, but I didn't need bright light to be able to see her perfectly. Her bronze curls were soft against my skin, and it was all I could do not to run my fingers through them. Her eyes were closed, but I knew their exact shade of green. They’d haunted me from the moment I first saw them, the day she walked into DeMarco's & Sons.
I told myself then that I just wanted to get hold of those soft curves, see what was hiding under those winter clothes. The moment I slid inside her though, I'd known once wouldn't be enough. I tried to deny it, tried to tell myself that she was out of my league. Hell, I'd known that from the second she walked into the shop, but it hadn't stopped me from wanting her. And getting her.
And she'd been nothing but trouble ever since.
Georgie, my buddy, had been pissed when I told him to back off, so when she turned up again, I'd behaved like an ass to drive her away. Then her aunt had fired me from Club Privé, which meant I lost the better half of my income. Confronting Bryne hadn't done anything but confirm what I'd been trying to deny for days.
I still wanted her.
My stomach clenched as she shifted in her sleep, her naked body rubbing against mine. Fuck. Even after having her again, I wanted nothing more than to bury my face between her legs until she woke up calling out my name, then see how many more times I could make her come on my cock.
Except that would be a bad idea, and no amount of lying to myself would change the truth of that.
Bryne wasn't naive, but she was definitely innocent. Hell, I could almost taste it on her. This city could chew up and spit out girls like her, and it would happen even faster if she was near me.
I forced myself from the bed, careful not to wake Bryne as I did. I wouldn't be able to leave if she woke up. One look from her, and I'd have a condom on and be inside her before either of us could think about why it was a bad idea.
Grabbing up my clothes, I crept out into the living room to dress. I should've left as soon as I wasn't bare-ass naked, but even as I took a step toward the door, I remembered what it had been like to walk out that first time, the way my heart had twisted at the expression on Bryne's face when I'd given her those flippant lines.
I couldn't do that to her again. No matter how many lies I told myself about what I wanted or didn't want, that was one thing I couldn't lie about. Hurting her hurt me.
And I knew if I ever wanted to see her again, I couldn't just go. I had to let her know I wasn't blowing her off.
My eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that I was able to make my way over to the hotel desk. I found a piece of paper and pen easily enough. Before I could second guess myself, I jotted down a quick invitation to dinner and hoped she would take it.
I could've left the note anywhere, but I made myself walk back into the bedroom and put it on the side of the bed where I'd been sleeping so she wouldn't miss it. I didn't want her waking up and thinking I'd left her without a second thought. Hell, she was in all my thoughts pretty much all the time. I'd been a walking hard-on since I met her and fucking her hadn't helped. I was already half-hard by the time I got on the elevator.
I ignored the surprised look the desk clerk sent my way as I walked through the lobby. I didn't need some condescending prick to tell me I didn't look like I belonged there. A shiver went through me as I stepped outside, and I hunched my shoulders, trying to bury myself deeper in my coat. I hadn't paid much attention last night to where I was, so it took me a moment to catch my bearings before deciding that I could make it to the subway without freezing my ass off. I tried to avoid spending money on taxis, but sometimes it was just too damn cold to do it any other way.
I blew on my hands as I jogged down the steps, then fished my metro card out of my wallet. My mom insisted on me having one, and I used it often enough to keep her from suspecting how many times I hopped a turnstile rather than pay.
A pang of guilt went through me at the thought of my mom. I hadn't meant to fall asleep with Bryne, but the lack of sleep I'd had every night since meeting her was taking its toll. Add that into the fact that I'd basically been working two jobs non-stop for the last year, and it wasn't really surprising that I'd fallen asleep.
I doubted Mom would even be annoyed that I hadn't called. I'd be home before she woke up anyway. And she was always good about not pushing to know what I was out doing. She just wanted me to take care of myself.
I frowned as I took a seat. I was twenty-four years old. My mother didn't need to be thinking about how to take care of me, especially not after the year she'd gone through. She'd raised me all by herself, and I was the first to admit that I hadn't made it easy on her. I'd tried to stay away from the worst of things, despite how much pressure I'd gotten from Georgie and the guys to take part in the less-than-legal things that went on in the shop, but I couldn't s
ay that I'd been a good kid. Not by a long-shot.
I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. Not for the first time, I wondered how different things would've been if my father had stuck around. Then again, for all I knew, things would've been worse. He could've been a complete asshole. Abusive. Alcoholic. A whole other list of things that was worse than absent.
I'd given up asking about him a long time ago. My birth certificate simply said unknown, but Mom always insisted she knew who he was. When I'd nagged her about it as a child, she'd only said that circumstances had prevented him from being a part of my life. Sometimes, I thought she meant that he died, but most of the time, I just figured he was married.
Or he simply hadn't wanted me.
I glowered at a punk teenager who tripped over my foot and swore at me. The kid flipped me off but hurried away before I could get up and teach him some respect.
I pushed myself to my feet as the first of my two changes came up. Mom and I lived in Hell's Kitchen, not too far from DeMarco's & Sons, and not too far from Club Privé either, but the hotel Bryne and I had gone to was on the opposite side of Manhattan. Still, I wouldn’t complain. Sex with Bryne was worth every minute, and more. I didn't know how much experience she had, but she was definitely one of the best lays I'd ever had under me.
My stomach twisted with some unfamiliar sensation, and it took me a moment to realize that it was jealousy. I didn't like thinking about how Bryne had gotten so good in bed.
Shit.
I needed to get myself under control. I couldn't be jealous because we weren't in a relationship. We could be friends. Maybe have sex when we felt like it. But nothing else. I couldn't do it.