by Kendall Ryan
Nolan smiled at me, but his thoughts still seemed faraway. “Maybe. Enough about that, though. I meant today to be fun.”
I squeezed his thigh in silent understanding. “Another beer?” I waved down the vendor again. “My treat this time.”
“Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?” he asked, leaning across the space to place his lips at my neck.
My throat tightening, I shook my head. “Not yet anyway.”
“Because you look fucking stunning,” he whispered against my skin.
Maybe sex was his way of dealing with the demons of his past. A distraction, a release. Is that what his arrangement with Daniella is about? Or is he just too much for one woman to handle? A rush of warmth settled in my chest at the thought.
With our second drinks in hand, the earlier lighthearted mood returned. Soon we were cheering and trash-talking the athletes on the field, enjoying each other’s company and the crisp fall day.
• • •
Arriving back at my place after the game, Nolan parked under the awning that stretched alongside the building. We sat quietly and watched the sun sink low in the sky. The atmosphere around us took on a hazy glow as day slowly transitioned into night. The warm cab of his truck was scented lightly with the dark notes of his cologne, swamping the space with sexual undertones.
I couldn’t remember ever having more fun. But when I turned to tell him so, the deep, penetrating look in his eyes stole my breath. It was almost like I could read his every thought—and they were searing. His gaze was filled with a dark, primal urge that called to something inside me.
“I’m running from something.” The words sprang from my mouth without warning. And once they were out—hanging between us in the silent cab of the truck—my heart started to pound.
“Care to tell me what, sweetheart?”
I shook my head. “I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then he reached over and placed his hand on my knee, giving it a squeeze. “Nothing’s going to get you.”
“No? Why not?” Hope blossomed in my chest, and I hung on to his every word like it was a lifeline.
“Because they’d have to get through me first. And that ain’t fucking happening on my watch.”
My heart slammed against my chest and my breathing shallowed. Those were the best words on the planet; everything I’d longed to hear.
But I knew something he didn’t. Something that would make him put me on the first plane back home without even a good-bye. My secret had seemed too big and important to tell at the time, but now, I wished I’d just come clean from the beginning. Because I knew the truth would have to come out at some point, and by then, it would be a huge, ugly divide between us. An insurmountable lie of omission.
But Nolan didn’t press me, didn’t take me by the shoulders and demand answers like I expected. And his blind trust stung more than if he’d yelled and screamed in my face and demanded I come clean.
I waited for him to say something more, but he didn’t. Which was good, because I didn’t have the answers he needed.
Suddenly, he leaned over and seized my mouth in a possessive kiss. A whimper escaped me and my fingers dug into his shoulders. The kiss turned deep and molten, our tongues dueling for control. I wasn’t about to back down from this big, powerful man who held the promise of my entire future in his hands.
He hauled me across the front seat’s center console to straddle his lap. The massive bulge in his jeans was unmistakable. The man was hung, and apparently his cock was hungry. For me. I wanted to feel it in my hand, in my mouth . . .
“You taste so fucking good.” He grunted, pushing up his erection to brush against my clit.
I groaned as his lips moved down the column of my throat and my hips circled just once, needing to feel the hard ridge of him. Pleasure and warmth ripped through me. Shit. I was quickly becoming addicted to this man.
Suddenly his hands were everywhere—my face, my neck, gripping my waist, caressing the underside of my breasts. Need unfurled inside me. Dying to feel his hands on my skin, I let out a frustrated groan.
“You still want to take this slow?” he asked, his mouth lifting in a smirk.
“Yes. I mean no,” I muttered.
A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest and I hated myself for that slip-up. But something inside me did need to take this slow. Despite my darker motivations, I didn’t think I could give myself to a man who was in another relationship.
“Tell me if I get too rough,” he breathed, his teeth lightly grazing my neck.
Those words sent twin bolts of hot fear and desire through me. His hands moved with grace, yet total control. He gripped both of my wrists in one hand while he devoured my neck, his teeth grazing my collarbone. He was possessive in all the best ways.
With my hands pinned, I was immobile, only able to kiss him back and rub wantonly against him.
His free hand slipped up my side until he reached my chest. My breasts felt so full and achy, as if I could come from his touches there alone.
Nolan’s fingertips grazed my nipple, and even through my bra, the contact was enough to perk it right up. His hand cupped and massaged, and I lost myself in the pleasure.
His kisses were deep and penetrating. I felt them all the way down in my belly, my panties becoming wetter with each flick of his hot tongue. Blood thundering in my ears, I wanted time to stand still so this moment would never have to end.
Raw need stabbed at me. The desire to feel his body joined with mine, to feel him thrust deep inside me was nearly overwhelming. A ragged sob broke from my throat, and Nolan pulled away.
“You like my hands on you, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” I panted out my response, unable to find the words to express just how very much I liked them. Rough. Calloused. Strong, yet so decisive in their movements.
He resumed his sensual assault, kissing and caressing me until I was a sopping-wet puddle of need.
My body bucked up and down on his, my clit begging for friction against his thick denim-covered cock. Feeling how virile and masculine he was made me forget about every silly worry I’d had before. I wanted the dark, rough ride he promised—as hard as he could dish it out.
Despite my best efforts, his military-inspired discipline shone through. He kissed hard, nipping at my lips, yet didn’t try to press me to take things further. But the rumble in his chest signaled he wasn’t immune to my movements against him.
A rough sound pushed past his lips, somewhere between a grunt and a gasp.
I wanted to hear him make that sound again, and as often as possible. My movements grew frantic and, impossibly, I felt myself building toward climax. Even fully clothed, that didn’t stop him from nursing an orgasm from my body.
God, how good would it feel if we were naked?
“Let go, sweetheart,” he said softly against my neck.
Before I had a chance to ask him what he meant, he cupped both my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and fingers, and I bucked wildly against him.
“Come for me,” he commanded again. “I want to watch those gorgeous sapphire eyes glaze over with lust.”
My body, having gotten the permission I didn’t know it needed, started the quick ascent to orgasm. My tender flesh throbbed, my clit pulsing in time with my rapid heartbeat.
I could feel the heat of him through my jeans and rocked back and forth, my climax right there, so close . . .
“I’d rather be inside that pretty cunt of yours, but ride it, baby, take what you need,” Nolan whispered in my ear.
His filthy encouragement did me in. I fell over the edge, my body trembling as a powerful orgasm crashed through me, making me cry out. Blinding pleasure sprinted through my veins and drowned out everything around us.
As aftershocks pulsed through my body, I buried my face in his neck, my heart racing. I should have been embarrassed about riding him like a mechanical bull in his truck, but my lust had driven out any shame.
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Realizing I was still planted in his lap, I climbed back over into the passenger seat of the truck, discreetly checking Nolan’s lap to make sure I hadn’t left a wet spot there. God, that’d be embarrassing. He wasn’t wet, but he was still rock hard, the entire front of his jeans bulging.
Unable to tear my gaze away from his erection, I asked, “Don’t you want me to . . . ?”
“No. You don’t have to.” His gaze was laser-focused on me, genuine concern in his eyes. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Of course. I’m fine,” I said. Something clicked in my brain. A sour voice whispered, Maybe he hasn’t pushed you for sex because he’s getting it from someone else. The realization stung hot and bitter in the center of my chest.
“I should go,” I said, drawing my purse into my lap.
Thinking about Daniella shouldn’t bother me so much. I shouldn’t care why Nolan didn’t want me to get him off. But my throat was still knotted with disappointment.
“Hey. Just breathe.” He used two fingers under my chin to bring my gaze to his. “I can’t promise you romance, and I sure as fuck can’t promise you forever, but I can offer you this. Now. And I promise everything I’m feeling for you is real.”
I nodded, still dizzy from the power of my earlier release, and utterly confused about where this was all heading. I was starting to feel something real for him too.
And that was very, very dangerous.
Concepts like right and wrong, single or attached seemed murky at best.
I wanted him—plain and simple. But would he still want me when he learned the truth?
“I’m going to be out of town for a couple of nights,” he said finally. “But I’d like to hang out again when I get back.”
I nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to you soon.” I stumbled from his truck, still in a daze, wondering where this path could possibly lead me.
Chapter Eight
I’ve been watching you. I know your routines, your habits. You come home from work, dead tired, and sometimes make yourself a cocktail while you turn on the TV—not to watch it, just for the background noise. Then you take a long shower that fills the bathroom with steam.
When you emerge from the shower, you’re more clear-headed and calm. But you always worry . . . I know it. I see the stress etched into your brow.
I know you wonder. About me. About the future. You do a damn good job pushing those worries away; I’ll give you that. But not quite good enough.
I know your secrets, your desires, and the skeletons you’d prefer remained hidden. The closer I get, the more you pull away.
It’s strange how connected we are, yet you have no idea. No fucking clue about everything I’ve been through.
I’m almost done waiting. Almost ready to take back what’s mine.
Chapter Nine
Nolan
It was late afternoon when I pulled my black pickup truck back into my parking space. These last few days had been long and tiring. Under Redstone’s name, I’d helped the Fort Worth police department investigate a puzzling spike in gang activity. Apparently, an Oklahoma City drug ring had imploded about a month ago, and some of its members had fled across state lines.
But I didn’t give a shit about that anymore. I’d fulfilled my contract, pocketed my check, and now I was back on my home turf. And there was only one person I wanted to see right now.
For the entire drive back into town, the memory of Lacey planted on my lap in the cab of my truck had tortured me through every mile. The sounds she’d made as she rode me were burned into my brain. Helpless cries and shaky whimpers that went straight to my dick, made my balls draw up just thinking about it. Damn. I couldn’t get her out of my head. Yet something about the whole situation felt off somehow. I couldn’t shake the unmistakable feeling that I needed to proceed with caution. Figure out my next move.
I turned off the truck and grabbed my phone to send a text to Daniella, letting her know I was back in town. I didn’t get a response right away, not that I expected to. Having been gone the last several days, I was unaware of her work schedule. Exiting the truck, I walked straight to Lacey’s apartment and knocked on her door.
When she opened it, she grinned and threw her arms around me. “You’re back.”
Her open affection was different from what I was used to, but my whole body relaxed at her touch. My hand settled against her lower spine, returning the warm physical contact.
I had taken that out-of-town gig in the hope that some distance would clear my head. Help put this woman situation into perspective. But with Lacey in my arms, I suddenly couldn’t remember what I’d been confused about.
“Did everything go okay?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Yeah, just some drug ring from Oklahoma City. The police are zeroing in on them, and they needed some extra support.”
She looked frightened for a moment, and I smoothed a thumb along the worry crease on her brow. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll get the bad guys. We always do.”
She nodded, and her features slowly relaxed as she took a steady breath. I wasn’t sure if her extreme reaction was because this particular job hit close to home, or maybe just because it originated in her hometown. Either way, something prickled in the back of my head.
“I’m glad you’re back home safe,” she said finally.
I nodded. “How are you? How was work? Feeling better about Charlie?” Lacey didn’t really need me to check up on her, but it gave me an excuse to visit.
She nodded, looking only a little sad. “Yeah. Putting him down was the right decision. I just needed some time to accept it.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re doing okay. You want to get some dinner later?”
“I just ate, so I won’t be hungry for a while. But . . .” Her hands flattened against my back, fingers rubbing gently. “Wow, you’re hard as a rock.”
“Thanks.” I chuckled.
She flushed a little. “Not hard like that. I meant you’re tense.” A hint of mischief lingered in her smile. “Can I give you a massage?”
I bent my head for a chaste, but lingering kiss. “Is this an excuse to get me shirtless on your bed?”
“Of course,” she murmured against my lips. Then she took my hand, lacing our fingers together, and led me through the apartment to her bedroom.
I leisurely unbuttoned my shirt, watching Lacey watch me. She was so beautiful when she looked at me softly like that. Her eyes told me all the things she didn’t say. That she viewed me as a protector. That she trusted me. Wanted to believe in me. Even though I’d all but admitted my wicked ways to her, she saw past my sinful nature—and she still wanted me. It was a good feeling. Being accepted for who I was, not forced into some mold of who she wanted me to be.
It was different from the way Daniella looked at me. Of course she trusted me; you didn’t let a man tie you up and fuck you unless there was a hell of a lot of trust there. But Lacey was looking for something on a whole other scale. I could feel it. A man to care for her, guide her . . . and I’d be damned if I didn’t want to be that man.
Once I was free of my shirt, Lacey’s eyes darkened and lit up with lustful fire at the same time. I lay facedown on her bed, head on my arms. She straddled my lower back and started rubbing my shoulders, digging her fingers into the stiff muscles with surprising strength. I groaned aloud at the mix of pleasure and relief.
Hazily, I tried to remember the last time I’d gotten a massage, and came up blank. But I found that I liked the intimacy—lying half-naked, pinned down, just letting a beautiful woman tend to me. I could get used to this.
It was strange how such innocent touches could be so erotic. She gradually worked her way down my back, unknotting my tension inch by inch. Her thighs squeezed my hips for balance as she leaned forward. Her round ass fit perfectly into the dip of my lower back, and I could feel the growing heat between her legs.
My cock responded accordingly. I shifted my hips, trying to get more comfortable, but my erection was trapped under
my belly, and squirming on the bed just made it worse.
Lacey might have taught me to enjoy taking sex slowly, but there was only so much temptation a man could resist. I wanted her, and I knew she wanted me. Deciding to move things along, I twisted and took her down with me, rolling us both onto our sides.
“What are you—” she started. Right before my mouth met hers in a firm, hungry kiss.
Pressing herself closer, she hooked one leg over mine, and I rocked my hips into her pelvis to let her feel what she’d done to me.
Lacey groaned. “I take it you liked the massage.”
“What gave me away?” I asked, breathing hard against her neck.
“A certain wayward southern appendage.” She ground into me again, her hips moving against mine.
I almost chuckled. Almost called her out for being too prissy to say the word cock . . . until her hand slid down to my jeans to unbutton me.
“Maybe he needs some attention too,” she rasped against my throat.
I hadn’t come here for this and wouldn’t have pressed her, but I also wasn’t going to turn her away. We would take things at whatever pace she wanted.
Tugging down the zipper to her shorts, I was desperate to touch her and bring her pleasure. It was as if every time we were together was a completely new experience. Fingers and mouths and heartbeats thumping together. And hormones raging at an all-time high.
I pushed my hand inside her shorts, fumbling when she reached down to grip my denim-covered erection. Christ.
My fingers soon found what they were looking for. She gasped as I rubbed in slow circles through her panties. Even with the cotton barrier, I could feel the firm bud of her swollen clit. I sucked in a breath when she tightened her fist, kneading my hard cock.
“Together,” was all she said. But I understood.
Only a little impatiently, I waited until she had unzipped my jeans before slipping my fingers under her panties. I gave a soft groan at the feel of her hot, slick folds.
