by Kendall Ryan
“Where did you learn to do that?” she asked.
I led her over to the couch, where we sat down and each took a sip of our drinks.
“My mother taught me when I was young. I didn’t think I even remembered.”
She smiled at me again. “You’re a complicated man, Nolan Maxwell.”
“And here I thought I was simple.”
She was silent for several minutes. Then she set down her wine and turned to me. “For the right girl, could you ever . . . wouldn’t you want . . . ?”
“No, sweetheart.” I stroked her hair away from her face and met her eyes so she could see the solemn truth in my words. “And not because I can’t do it. I won’t.” I’d seen what happens, felt the crushing sting of loss, and it wasn’t something I cared to repeat. “Besides, I have a responsibility to Daniella.”
“Right. Daniella.” She looked down at her hands.
The name rolled bitterly off Lacey’s tongue, but I didn’t chastise her. There were some things she couldn’t even begin to understand, and I doubted I could do them justice if I tried to explain them.
“Did you have fun tonight?” I asked, hoping to draw her out of her somber thoughts.
Her chin lifted, her eyes meeting mine again. “Yes.”
“Come here.”
Cradling her jaw in my hands, I brought her mouth to mine. Her mouth opened obediently and I stroked my tongue against hers, the pressure immediately building in my groin. These were the things I understood. My body’s response to hers, the need to see her come undone with pleasure.
I pulled her over to straddle my lap. She immediately circled her hips to brush against my firm cock, moaning when she felt how hard I was already. The mood changed in an instant, hot need coursing between us.
“You are so fucking hot, I don’t want to stop.” I echoed her groan, pushing my hips up to meet hers.
“I don’t want you to.”
The longing in her voice spurred me on. I rose to my feet with Lacey’s legs locked around my waist. Her mouth went to my neck while I carried her to her bedroom. The little licks and nips of her teeth went straight to my dick.
Inside her room, I laid her down on the bed and pulled her shirt off over her head. Her breasts were perfection; the generous cleavage spilling over the cups of her lacy bra begged to be kissed and sucked. But I had something more pressing in mind.
As slowly as I could, I kissed my way down her body, stopping just before her waistband. “I want to taste you, sweetheart.”
She swallowed, watching me, her eyes wide.
I knew she wanted to take things slow. That was fine. We could have plenty of fun without ever breaking out the condoms. And judging from the hot spark in her eyes, she knew exactly what I was about to do. She was ready and more than willing.
I unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her shapely legs. As I brushed my fingertip over the front of her cream-colored satin panties, Lacey drew a shuddering breath. She was soaked.
“These panties are ruined, angel.”
My tone was harsh, my erect dick strangling away all coherent thought. I wanted on top of her, inside her, but I wouldn’t do anything she wasn’t begging for. I took my time stripping the wet scrap of fabric away, appreciating the view. Shaved bare with delicate lips concealing her pink inner petals, she had a pretty cunt, and I wanted my mouth all over it. All over her.
Breathing in through my nose, I kissed her bare pussy, letting my tongue slip down to taste between her folds. She sucked in a sharp gasp. Fucking hell, she tastes sweet.
I took my time tasting her—I’d never tire of her unique flavor, tangy and sweet all at once. Her thighs tensed under my hands with every gentle lick, just barely enough to drive her crazy without getting her anywhere. I teased her until her clit stood out from its sheath, a swollen pearl begging for my touch.
“Nolan . . .” Her voice was almost a whimper.
With gentle flicks of my tongue, I teased her clit until it was engorged, and her entire body was quivering, begging for release.
“This pussy gets nice and swollen for me,” I said between licks, and she squirmed beneath me, making a helpless whimper.
Done making her wait, I dived in for the main course, parting her with my thumbs so I could suck her clit into my mouth. She had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries. But she couldn’t hold back when I slipped one finger into her pussy. She fit so snug and hot around me that my cock ached. I could feel her inner walls trembling under the onslaught of sensation.
Slowly sinking my finger in and out, I teased her opening with another, getting ready to slip the second one in alongside the first. But she moaned my name and her pussy clamped around my finger in wave after wave of pleasure, her thighs twitching around my head as she bucked into my face.
Damn, that was fast. “Did that feel good?”
She nodded slowly, still looking a little dazed. My male pride swelled—along with a certain other part of my anatomy. Sex with Lacey was turning out to be one wild ride. Her body was so responsive, as if every touch was a brand-new sensation.
Then I suddenly wondered if it was brand-new. Lacey did act a bit sheltered sometimes. But maybe her previous lovers had just been incompetent.
“Has a man ever gone down on you before?”
If she was indeed a virgin, I should have been approaching sex a little differently this whole time. But shit, better late than never.
Lacey blinked. “I, um, had a boyfriend.” She hesitated, dropping her gaze for a moment, and then smiled shyly. “But he never did that before.”
Mystery solved—her ex was just a fucking selfish prick. What a damn shame, wasting a gorgeous woman’s time in bed like that.
I smirked back at her. “He must have been a real dumbass then, especially if he let you slip away.”
I thought I saw her expression darken for an instant, but before I could be sure of it, Lacey grinned mischievously and said, “I want to touch you too.”
Well, a man certainly couldn’t say no to that. I gladly lay back on the bed while she knelt down between my spread thighs. Watching her slim fingers tug down the zipper to my jeans was strangely erotic. I hadn’t been undressed by a woman in a long time. Daniella’s hands were generally bound, and so she rarely touched me. And though the last few years had been peppered by occasional one-night stands, I generally stripped as fast as I could to get to the main event.
A smile rose on my lips as I watched her carefully reach inside my boxers. I hadn’t been treated with such delicacy in a long damn time, maybe ever. I wanted to joke that she didn’t have to be so dainty with me, but I was transfixed; I could have watched her tentatively explore me for hours. And when her soft fist curled around me, I bit back a groan.
Using her other hand to push down my boxers, she freed my aching, swollen cock. Lacey sucked in a breath, her eyes darting up to mine. I knew I was hung, but her expression was priceless. She chewed on her lower lip, as if contemplating her task.
“You sure about this, sweetheart?” I asked at her hesitancy. I was going to have a hell of a case of blue balls if she changed her mind, but I’d live.
She swallowed, her pretty blue eyes drifting up to mine. “Very.” Then she gripped the base of my cock and, without hesitation, swallowed me down to her hand.
Fuuuck.
I groaned out loud. Pleasure shot through me, drawing my balls up close to my body as Lacey treated the head of my cock to a slow, wet kiss. Definitely not a virgin. Her tongue flicked in perfect rhythm with the bobbing of her head and the stroking of her hand on my shaft.
“You’re good at this, baby.” I stroked her silky brunette locks and she murmured, acknowledging the praise. “Mmm, just like that.”
She kept up the perfect rhythm, not too fast, but not too slow either, her mouth creating a warm, wet suction over me.
I combed her hair away from her face with my fingers. I couldn’t seem to stop petting her, touching her. Rubbed my hands along her sh
oulders and down her arms, tangled them in her hair, brushed my thumbs along her jaw, anything to let her know how amazing her mouth felt.
Letting my head fall back, I savored how the pleasure gradually burned higher and hotter in my groin. I watched Lacey’s pink lips sliding over my wet cock. I wished she would look up at me, but she kept her sky-blue eyes closed, sooty lashes long on her flushed cheeks. Too shy to meet my gaze—though not too shy to suck the life out of me, apparently. Hell, that feels good.
My abs were already tensing with every stroke. In a minute, I panted, “I’m going to come soon.”
But instead of pulling away at my warning, Lacey opened her eyes. She wants to watch me come, I realized—and arousal shocked through me like lightning. Arching slightly off the bed, I released with a low, ragged groan. Without a pause, she swallowed it.
This woman was becoming more perfect by the day. And that scared the fuck out of me.
Chapter Eleven
Lacey
After a long day at work, where confusing thoughts of Nolan had spun through my brain, all I wanted to do was to curl up on the couch and watch mindless TV while I ate dinner. But I had no groceries in the house, and since the last thing I felt like doing was grocery shopping and then cooking, I decided to call for takeout.
Vino’s was a wine bar and bistro just a short drive away. My boss, Jamie, had suggested it when I asked if there were any good Italian restaurants in town. When I arrived, the parking lot was filled, which was surprising for a weeknight. Their food must be even better than Jamie said.
Inside, I learned why the place was really so crowded. A banner announced that the Nurses’ Ball was to my left, in a private banquet room. I headed straight toward the bar, where I paid for my order and was told it would be ten more minutes.
I tried not to get annoyed. Ten more minutes until warm fettuccine Alfredo and garlicky breadsticks were in my tummy. I was hoping there was an empty seat at the bar—I could have a glass of wine while I waited, maybe text Brynn—but it was packed too. So I wandered over to the hostess station to wait for my name to be called.
But a very different voice called for me. A familiar masculine one.
“Lacey?”
I turned and spotted Nolan, looking devastatingly handsome in a black tuxedo and crisp white shirt. His black silk bowtie rested perfectly over the hollow of his throat. The unexpected sight stole my breath for a moment.
“Nolan? What are you doing here?”
He tipped his head toward the banquet room. “I’m here with Daniella.”
I thought he might offer to introduce us, but he didn’t. Which was fine by me. My heart was hammering against my ribs and all I wanted to do was flee. After the evening we’d spent together, the waltzing, the way he’d tugged down my wet panties and devoured me . . . I shuddered. And now he was here with her?
“I was just getting takeout,” I explained, even though he hadn’t asked.
He just stood there watching me, freshly shaved and smelling lightly of cologne. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The idea that he was here, on a date, with another woman was mind-boggling. As was the fact that he’d taken the time to dress up and look so handsome . . . for her, not me. It stung much more than I thought it would.
“I better get back in there before she comes looking for me,” he said.
“Of course.” I smiled, trying to shove down the tidal wave of jealousy inside me. “Have fun.”
The words were a damn lie. I wanted him to have a terrible time, so terrible he ran straight into my arms without looking back. But I knew that wouldn’t happen.
Nolan watched me sadly. “I’ll call you later.”
The bitter side of me wanted to tell him not to bother. But I stuffed those words down my throat and smiled instead. He’d been honest from the beginning. What did I expect?
I watched him walk into the elegant room with black-clothed tables and sconces dimmed low. He stopped beside a woman in a long green evening gown, and she whispered something in his ear. He nodded and patted her hand. And that was how I caught my first glimpse of Daniella.
Whenever I thought of the other woman in his life, it was always some abstract concept, a hazy figure. Something I could pretend was far away from me and my relationship with him. But the Daniella in front of me was all too solid and clear. She was a real person, with a profession and colleagues . . . and a pseudo-boyfriend she wanted to show off to them.
She took his elbow. Sensing they were coming closer, I faced the hostess station again and pressed my back to the wall, not wanting to be seen.
The image of them together was burned into my brain. She was nothing like how I pictured she’d be. She was tall—in her heels, almost as tall as Nolan. Her dark auburn hair was twisted into a sophisticated knot at the nape of her pale neck. I hadn’t seen her face, which was a good thing. I didn’t want to know if she was beautiful; my insecurity would crush me. Better to stay in the dark.
“See that guy over there with the dark hair and goatee?”
That low, faintly husky voice must be Daniella. They were only a few feet away now, just past the doorway I leaned against.
“What about him?” Nolan responded.
“He’s a new doctor . . . and rumor has it, he’s a Dominant.”
“That guy?” Nolan asked in disbelief. “Dude doesn’t have a Dominant bone in his body. Look at him.”
Hearing their private conversation, how comfortable they were together, was startling. I was spying on a stolen moment between them. But I felt frozen in place, unable to move, barely even breathing.
“Don’t be mean. Just because he’s not built like a linebacker—or a SEAL, for that matter—doesn’t mean anything. I’ve heard he’s all varieties of naughty. He even joined the club downtown.”
“You tempted?” Nolan sounded surprised.
“No, don’t be crazy.” Daniella laughed.
Her voice was deep and husky. Sensual even. I hated the sound of it.
“I’m not suggesting anything crazy. Just that if you were interested, it could be a good thing. Get back on the horse, so to speak.”
I could hear the hint of a smile in Nolan’s voice, and I held my breath, wondering what she might say next.
“No, I have everything I need right here.” She let out a contented little sigh that made my stomach hurt.
Nolan merely chuckled, sounding calm and jovial.
“Things have been weird lately, but . . . we’re good, right?” she asked him.
“Of course we are,” he said.
I couldn’t stand to listen anymore. My insides felt like they were being pulled out with a fork.
I pushed my way through the group lingering at the hostess station and out into the night air. Dinner forgotten, I got in my car and drove home to my empty little apartment.
• • •
When Nolan called that night, I was still feeling shaken and vulnerable. I picked up with a listless, “Hello?”
“Are you okay?”
Apparently, he understood that seeing him out with Daniella was a big deal to me. I sensed now that he’d been deliberately keeping us apart. We would probably never meet face-to-face. And that was fine by me.
I curled up into a warm nest on my bed, my purple quilt around my shoulders. “It was honestly . . . tough.” Much tougher than I’d ever imagined.
He was quiet for a moment, just the sound of his deep, steady breaths on the other end of the phone. “I figured.”
So he was calling to check on me, but not to end what had hurt me in the first place. He still wasn’t ready to become a one-woman kind of man. Tears stung my eyes.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice softer than I expected.
“There’s this whole other side to your life that I’m not involved in. Tuxedos and work banquets with coworkers. It was just . . . hard to take in.”
“If it makes you feel any better, the tuxedo was uncomfortable as hell, and I couldn’t wait to ge
t out of it. I’m in my bedroom stripping down now.”
“Are you alone?”
“No.”
A single tear slipped down my cheek. “Oh.”
“Sutton’s here. He’s giving me a dirty look.”
And then I was laughing.
“I just need you to . . .” He didn’t finish. But he didn’t have to.
“I know.”
Nolan needed me to accept him as he was—broken and all. And I did.
That’s what scared me.
Chapter Twelve
Lacey
Scoop, then dump. Scoop, then dump.
I tried to hold my breath while cleaning the cat’s litter box of clumps. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but somebody had to do it. Thank God Mr. Wiggles had been declawed, because he was an angry son of a bitch.
Moving on to the small rodent cages, I threw away the old, dirty bedding and wiped down the floors with diluted bleach. Even the lowliest of rats deserved cozy nesting material, fresh water, and maybe a couple of extra pellets of food. I lost myself in my work, humming as I moved from cage to cage.
As hurt and confused as I’d been last night, seeing Nolan out with Daniella, an hour-long phone call had soothed me tremendously. He’d chatted with me while I lay in bed and he removed his tuxedo piece by piece. I heard the mattress creak as he lay down, heard Sutton softly snoring by his side.
Knowing that I was the one on his mind after his date didn’t make everything better; bitter jealousy still lingered. But it had helped. We talked, laughed, and made plans to see each other again.
As I worked, I slipped back into daydreams of Nolan. The last few weeks had gone better than I’d ever imagined. With the exception of Daniella . . . but maybe, with some creativity, I could solve that problem too.
“You have all the signs of a woman in love,” an old man’s voice said.
“Excuse me?” I rose to my feet, securing the latch to the cage I’d just finished with, and turned to see Horace. He was one of the senior citizens who volunteered at the shelter on weekdays. I’d barely heard him come in.
“Your cheeks are rosy, your eyes are bright and happy, and you were humming a love song—Marvin Gaye, I think—while you scraped hamster shit from the bottom of that cage.” He chuckled.
