by Cynthia Eden
“You have no idea.”
Oh, she had lots of ideas. Lots of things that she wanted to try. The limo was moving smoothly so…
She slid off the seat. Her knees hit the floorboard.
“Tess?”
Her mouth went to his dick. Her lips parted. She took him inside.
“Fuck. Baby, you are going to wreck me.”
Well, she sure hoped no one wrecked right then. Because explaining things to the responding officers would be awkward as all hell.
In the next instant, Tess forgot about any hypothetical officers and concentrated on the matter at hand.
He was long and thick. Hard and warm. She feathered her mouth over the head of his cock. She licked that broad head, then sucked him inside. Not too deep, because she was learning, but—
“You are such a fast fucking learner,” he growled.
She did try.
She smiled around his dick, then took him a little deeper. Sucked harder. Faster and—
She was on the seat.
Tess blinked. He’d lifted her up and positioned her so that she straddled his thighs, and her hands grabbed onto his shoulders as she tried to balance herself.
“I need to fuck you,” James told her. His voice wasn’t teasing. It had gone guttural.
A shiver worked over her.
“Now.”
Now sounded great to her.
He yanked out a condom from his wallet. Shoved it on. She expected him to immediately thrust his cock into her, but he didn’t. His fingers slid between their bodies. He worked her clit, strumming her with a touch that had her moaning. Only then, when she was moaning and arching toward him, when her own body was desperate for release, only then did he thrust inside of her.
He filled her completely. Every single inch.
Her eyes squeezed closed. She barely breathed. His hands had moved and locked around her hips.
“You control it,” he rasped. “Fast, slow, or any fucking thing you want. Show me.”
Her eyes opened.
She could see the lust burning in his golden stare. But he was waiting for her.
She pushed up on her knees. Then sank down. Again and again. His cock glided into her, almost out, in again. Every time she sank down, she was moaning. She’d started slow, but as the heated moments rolled past, she went faster and faster because her body was spinning out of control. Release was so close. She could feel it, could almost grab tight to it and—
She came. Exploded. Shattered. Splintered. She felt her body burst with pleasure, and her head tipped back as she chanted his name.
His hold tightened on her. He thrust deep once more, twice, and then he was growling her name and kissing her throat. Pressing his lips to her and coming inside of her.
Her arms locked around him. She held him. Didn’t want to let go.
Didn’t want to move at all.
And then she realized…
Oh, God, we aren’t moving.
She shoved against him. Her head whipped up.
A satisfied smile curved his lips. “I should pick you up from work every night.”
He should—Tess shook her head. “We’re not moving.”
“Um, no.”
“Why aren’t we moving?”
He caught her hand. Lifted it to his lips. Kissed her knuckles. “Probably because we’re at our destination.”
“How long have we been not moving?” Her breath panted out. And, purely by accident, her sex tightened around his cock.
He groaned. “I need a new condom before we go again—”
“James!” She darted off him. Grabbed for her pants and underwear. Did a snake-like shimmy to get them on. “How long has the limo been stopped?”
He ditched the condom. Cleaned up with a wipe he had in some mini-compartment. She probably should have used a wipe, too, but she’d already dressed and was looking for her shoes.
He hadn’t answered her.
When she tossed him a frown, he winked. She could see his wink because the car was lit by soft lights inside. The same mood illumination that had been turned on the first night she’d been in the limo.
“I think it’s been stopped for…a little while.”
Oh, no. She shook her head. “The driver knows what we were doing!”
James just shrugged. “Does it matter?”
She frowned. “I’ve never had sex in a car before. It matters to me.”
He reached for her hand once more. Curled his fingers over hers. “I was the first?”
“You probably have sex in the car all the time. You probably—”
“I was the first?”
“Yes, dammit! Did you even hear what I—”
He opened her hand. Pressed a kiss to her palm. “The driver won’t say a word. You don’t have to worry about Ryley. The man is a vault. Now, come on, I have a surprise waiting for you.”
A surprise? “I don’t like surprises.”
He pushed open the car door. Pushed the thing open! As if she wasn’t in the middle of a freak out.
“You don’t like them? Really?” James glanced back at her with a teasing grin. “Because you just seduced me in a car. I’d say that definitely counted as a surprise.”
Her jaw dropped.
He was out of the limo.
She grabbed her shoes. He’d been all loud as he exited so she was sure the driver had gotten an earful. Clutching the shoes to her chest, she rushed out after him.
The driver wasn’t there.
The limo was parked. In a garage? In…his garage. She recognized it. They were in his building, the first floor.
“You told me you weren’t in the mood to date.” His tone seemed oddly careful. “So I thought you’d like to stay in.”
She still held her shoes. “Where’s the driver?”
“I gave Ryley orders to leave once he got us home.”
Her cheeks stung. “So you knew what we’d be doing in the car.”
“No, but I knew that I didn’t want to share you with anyone, so I figured he could bring us here and cut out.”
She put on her shoes. Stood there, her knees feeling all wobbly.
He held out his hand to her. “Come on. You’ll like this.” One shoulder rolled. “Maybe.”
Now she was curious. She took his hand and let him lead her up the stairs. They were silent as they made their way to his door, then inside his home.
When they got inside…
The table was set. Not just set…
She sucked in a sharp breath. There was a freaking guy in a chef’s uniform standing there. Candles glowed from the table, and it looked like she was walking into a full, four-course meal.
“You didn’t want to go out.”
Her head turned. James was watching her, with a hooded gaze, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed and was treading carefully.
“So I brought dinner in,” he finished.
“You…you didn’t have to do this.” He’d brought a chef to his place?
A silent chef who was standing there, waiting.
“I can’t cook for shit,” James told her. “Trust me, if you were going to eat tonight, I had to do this.”
Another laugh slipped from her. How did he do that? How did he catch her off-guard that way?
He glanced over at the chef. “It smells like heaven, Charles. Thank you.”
Charles inclined his head. “Always a pleasure.” He headed toward James.
James shook his hand, and she caught the very casual pass of money between them.
“Have a good night.” Charles beamed at her. “I hope you enjoy the cuisine.”
“Ah, I am sure I will. Thank you.”
A few moments later, he was gone.
The feast waited.
She still didn’t move. “This feels very…fancy.”
“You look very fancy.”
She shifted her high heels a bit. It’s just a look. It’s not the real me. The real her, the girl she’d been so long ago, had been
as far from fancy as it was possible to be.
“You’re a doctor, Tess. I’m sure you’ve gone out for plenty of fancy meals in your life.”
She hadn’t told him she was a doctor. She’d told him that she worked at the hospital. That he could pick her up there. But there were hundreds of jobs in a hospital. “How do you know I’m a doctor?”
He turned away. Headed for the table.
The delicious smells were making her salivate.
“Just a guess. I suppose you could be an administrator. A nurse. A social worker. An IT tech or—”
“I’m a doctor.” She didn’t move.
“Then I am a fantastic guesser.” He pulled out a chair. Waited.
She needed to relax. “You have obviously not spent a lot of time having meals in a hospital cafeteria. Fancy isn’t the word that comes to mind.” Slowly, she crossed to him.
Sat at the table.
There were so many knives and forks and spoons around her plate. Definitely fancy. She knew how to use them all. She’d learned.
I’m a fast learner.
But once…
Once she’d been homeless. She’d literally scavenged for food. She’d thought the old boxes of cereal her mom received from the local food pantry were gold.
“Tess?”
She blinked.
Her vision had gone a little blurry there for a moment.
“You don’t have to eat a bite.” His voice was oddly gentle. “I can order a pizza. It will be here in twenty minutes.” He cursed. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just—forget it. I don’t know what the hell I thought. I overstepped. It won’t happen again and I—”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” She wanted to tell him about her life. To put those dirty parts of her past right out there. She’d never told a lover about her time being homeless.
Why was she even considering it now?
No strings. Just sex.
He didn’t want to know about her past. They had a deal. And she didn’t share that part of herself with anyone. How could she even be thinking about revealing that pain to him?
“Sit down,” she urged him with a smile that didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel real because it wasn’t. “You don’t want the food to get cold.”
He took the chair next to hers. Didn’t reach for the food. “Tell me how I screwed up so I don’t make the same mistake again.”
Her throat wanted to close up. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She was the one being hit by bad memories.
He didn’t look convinced. But he also didn’t push her.
She reached for the glass full of water near her plate. Her fingers trembled a little, but he didn’t notice. Or, if he did, James didn’t comment on it.
“Tess, you don’t have to share a damn thing with me. That’s what we’re about, remember?”
He began to eat. Slowly. Savoring the meal. Filet mignon.
She started to lower the water.
“But, if you do want to tell me anything, another perk of our no strings deal is that I won’t ever judge a word you say. You could tell me you killed a man, and I wouldn’t give a shit.”
She knocked over the water. To her horror, it poured across the table, soaking what appeared to be a very, very expensive table cloth. “I’m so sorry!” Tess jumped to her feet and started patting up the water with her napkin. “I’ll fix it! I’ll clean it! I’ll—”
He caught her hand in his. “It’s water. It will dry.” He stared at her. “It’s okay.”
Her past was everywhere tonight. Strangling her. It hadn’t been this bad in ages. And this is why I don’t do dates. Because she screwed things up. It was better if she stuck to her work. Her routine.
He gave a hard, decisive nod. “I’m ordering pizza.”
“No. This meal must have cost a fortune and—”
“It didn’t cost a thing. The chef owed me.”
“I saw you give him money.”
“A tip.” He didn’t blink. “His culinary services were something that I collected.”
“The way you collect everything.” Her head tilted. “Why do I suddenly feel like I’m something you’re collecting, too?”
“You would be the best piece of my collection.”
Her stomach dropped. “You can’t collect people. That’s not how it works.”
His fingers uncurled from her wrist. “I know.” His expression was guarded. “Why don’t you go sit near the TV? I’ll order pizza, and we can watch anything you want.”
There was no need for him to do that. “I can eat this. It’s a beautiful meal.” She sat down. Squared her shoulders. “And you didn’t mean it, of course.” She picked up her knife. Her fork.
“I usually mean the things I say.” A pause. “But you’ll have to be a little more specific. What is it that you think I didn’t mean?”
She forced a light laugh. “If I killed someone, you’d care.”
Silence.
From beneath her lashes, she risked a glance at him. He was slowly chewing and seeming to mull her words in his head.
Of course. Just as she’d thought. He would—
“No. I don’t think I’m really in the position to judge.”
What?
“But I am in the position to order pizza. What do you feel like? Pepperoni? Sausage?”
“Cheese,” she whispered.
He pushed away from the table. “On it.”
She stared down at the knife in her hand.
And wondered…what would he do if he ever learned that…once upon a time, she had killed someone?
Chapter Four
“So…this is awkward.” James flashed a smile at the gorgeous doctor who stepped into the exam room.
Dr. Tess Barrett blinked her insanely seductive, dark eyes. She looked at the chart. She looked up at him. “James?”
“Um. That’s me.”
“But the name on the chart says—”
“Jamieson? Yes, well, sometimes, I go by that.” Not because it was his real name. Just another alias.
A nurse bustled in behind her. He recognized the nurse as the blonde who’d been with Tess the first night they’d met. Marilyn Montgomery. Barnes had assembled some basic data on her when he’d dug into Tess’s background. No criminal background. Wealthy family. She’d been working at the hospital for as long as Tess had. Actually, the background info had said that Tess met Marilyn before they had both become employed at the hospital.
Marilyn came to a quick stop and blinked her big, blue eyes. “Wait. He’s the stabbing victim?”
Now James winced. “I mean, really, it’s more of a slice than anything. A little nick.” That needed stitches. He could have actually taken care of that on his own but…
He’d wanted to see Tess.
Tess hadn’t returned his calls that week. He wasn’t being a stalker. He wasn’t into that shit. He had a wound, and he needed it fixed, so he’d gone to the hospital.
Seeing her was a…bonus?
A carefully planned bonus?
Tess rushed toward him. Her fingers reached out and trailed over his arm. The wound pulsed from his wrist to his elbow. “You need stitches,” she said.
He nodded.
“Marilyn—”
“On my way,” the blonde fired back as she bustled out.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Tess released a fast breath. “What happened?” Her eyes were filled with worry.
“Someone sliced me.” He shrugged.
“You can’t say that so casually! You can’t just—”
“It’s not a big deal. You’ll stitch me up. I’ll be as good as new.”
She had gloves on her hands. And worry deepened in her eyes. “Who did this?”
Oh, he liked the touch of fire roughening her voice. She was upset on his behalf. That was promising. “A guy at my club.” Partial lie, partial truth. “Don’t worry, he’s been handled.”
“Someone at your club stabbed you?”
�
�It’s more of a slice really.” Though he’d been stabbed before. A time or two. Or seven. “And it was a lucky cut. I was distracted.” Because he’d been thinking about Tess and how he’d somehow screwed up with her.
He needed to fix the screw up. Immediately. Because, sure, it was no strings between them but…
He’d missed her this week. So he just damn well said, “I missed you.”
Marilyn walked in at that exact same instant. “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Should I leave you two alone?”
Tess held his gaze. “We need to stitch him up.”
And then they did just that. Cleaned his wound. Examined him.
Marilyn actually stitched him up, and Tess watched him with a little line between her brows.
“It’s not deep,” Tess told him. “When was your last tetanus shot?”
He rattled off a date.
“If you were attacked,” Marilyn said as she pulled the thread through his skin, like that shit was a normal occurrence—oh, wait, for her, it was, “then we should notify the police so that they can—”
“No police.” His voice came out hard and flat.
Tess and Marilyn shared a look.
“If the cops ask, I’ll just tell them that my knife slipped while I was cleaning.”
Tess rocked forward. “You’d lie to the police?”
She sounded so utterly appalled. How adorable. He’d missed that adorableness of hers this week. “Of course not,” he assured her.
Her shoulders sagged.
“I was cleaning up my club. Can’t have trash in there.”
Marilyn hummed.
She also finished stitching him up—and immediately darted back several steps. What? Was she afraid of him?
“Uh, Dr. Barrett?” Marilyn wiggled her eyebrows. “How about we talk outside?”
Tess nodded. “I’ll be right there.”
Marilyn fled. A very fast fleeing. He’d had no idea she could move that quickly.
He glanced down at his stitches. Nice job. Tight and even. “Any orders for me, doc?”
“I shouldn’t have stayed in here. I shouldn’t have treated a man that I was—”
He looked up.
She’d clamped her lips together.
“Marilyn did the stitching. Don’t see how you did anything wrong.” He flexed his wrist. He’d have to be careful not to pop those stitches. And if he did—oh, well, so what? He’d already accomplished his primary mission by coming to the hospital.