Easton Bradbury kept me wanting more.
She seemed to like my answer, because she leaned down and trailed kisses over my neck and jaw. “Same goes for you.” I squeezed her ass tighter with my other hand and threaded my fingers through her hair, pulling gently and raising her head to face me. “You got that?”
She licked her lips, looking at me with a sudden serious expression, almost sad. “You’re the only one I want,” she spoke softly. “Right now.”
That made me jerk my head up and narrow my eyes on her.
Tightening my grip, I grabbed and lifted her again, tossing her back down on the couch before pinning her wrists above her head.
“That wasn’t exactly reassuring,” I barked, thrusting good and hard.
She squeezed her eyes shut, moaning, “Oh, God. Tyler.” She cried out, “Fuck, I’m coming!”
I felt her pussy clenching around my cock, and I showed her no mercy. Diving into her mouth, I tasted her tongue and let her cries drown out in my kiss.
She grabbed my ass and held tight, the bite of her nails stinging my skin as her body tensed beneath me.
She spasmed, her short, fast breaths echoing around me as her body shook with the orgasm.
“You make me want to ignore my work,” I accused, loving how wet she was after coming, “and I’d rather have you here at my beck and call than let you go home. Now, if you liked that,” I bit out, referring to the orgasm I’d just given her, “then I think you can assume you’re going to be coming back for more for the foreseeable future.”
She blinked her eyes open, looking desperate and confused. “All I know” – she breathed hard, searching for words – “is that you’re the only one I want.”
“For today?” I asked gently, placing my elbows on either side of her head and grazing my lips over hers, before whispering, “Or can I at least get a week out of you?”
She opened her mouth, trying to catch my lips for a kiss, but I pulled back just far enough to tease her.
Anger flashed in her eyes, and I smiled, loving that she liked getting kissed by me.
“What’s your track record, Easton?” I looked down into her eyes, keeping my voice calm. “How many boyfriends have you had? How long did they last? How long before you’re ready to jump into a new bed?”
Her eyebrows shot up, and she pushed at my chest. “Get off me,” she gritted out.
But I continued my smooth, even rhythm as pleasure started to course through my groin. “How long?” I taunted.
“What about you?” she snapped, pushing at my chest. “You can’t tell me you don’t have another woman somewhere.”
“Oh, I do,” I replied, keeping my voice light. “Several, actually. One on every continent.”
“Go to hell.” She slammed her palm into my chest. “And get off me!”
But I grabbed her hands and pinned them up above her head.
“There’s one in France and another in London. And they have beautiful women in Buenos Aires.”
She pinched her lips and pushed against my chest. “Ugh!”
I rolled my hips as I continued to move in and out of her while I tried not to laugh. “But you know why I want the hot little teacher in New Orleans?” I taunted, looking down into her eyes. “Because she fucking gives me what I want better than anyone else.”
The two small wrinkles between her eyes deepened, and her jaw hardened as she tried very hard to look angry when she wasn’t.
“You’ve got a hell of a body, Easton,” I breathed out over her lips. “You’ve also got a sharp tongue, and your temper is a hell of a lot of fun. It’s not just about sex.”
I dipped down, kissing her neck as I released her hands and grabbed the armrest to anchor myself. I began moving faster again, her small whimpers in my ear growing more desperate as her body took control.
I grunted, feeling the pleasure course down my cock.
God, I needed to come.
She squeezed her eyes shut. I could tell she was about to come again, too.
“So you wanna have fun with me for a while?” I asked.
“Yes,” she gasped, pleading. “Yes.”
I arched up, peering down at her closed eyes and her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
“Please, what?” I thrust into her harder, seeing her come apart.
God, she was beautiful. For one second she was stripped down, bare, and gorgeous, without any of her armor – and it made me feel like she would die without the one thing I could give her. But I also hated that those moments came so rarely, because I lived for them now.
“Please kiss me,” she begged.
I covered her mouth with mine as I went at her with everything I had.
“Yes!” she cried, then pulled away to shout, “Fuck! Harder!”
I gripped her thigh and gave her everything I had, completely lost in her moans and cries, smell and taste. Her sounds got higher and her skin was drenched.
“Fuck,” I gasped out, closing my eyes, letting the moment overtake me.
“Ah!” she cried out, then stilled, holding on for the ride.
I thrust into her again, my body jerking as I finally spilled inside of her.
“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, sliding out of her before slowly lowering my body back down on hers and kissing her collarbone.
My back started to cool, and my body buzzed with exhaustion.
I swallowed, trying to catch my breath. She was stunning.
“What are you doing to me?” I asked, breathless.
Her hands came up, threading through my hair and grazing down my neck. She trailed sweet kisses across my cheek and then wrapped her arms around my neck, damp with sweat, and held me in place.
But when I tried to arch up to look down at her, she tightened her hold, not releasing me.
“I can’t look at you and say this,” she said quietly, her soft voice sounding sad.
I stilled and averted my gaze, ignoring the apprehension building in my chest.
“My track record isn’t good,” she started. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never wanted anyone again and again,” she admitted. “But when I think about you, I get excited.”
I stayed, listening, even though a smile started to spread my lips.
“You feed on me like food,” she went on, “and it makes me happy, because you exhaust me to where I can’t think.” She placed a light kiss on my neck, sliding her hands down my back. “You like that I’m difficult, and God, I love your body, Tyler. I definitely want more.”
She started breathing hard again, and I felt the hair on my arms stand up when she ran her feet up the backs of my legs and began sucking on my neck and kissing my ear.
My eyes closed. “Don’t,” I groaned. “I think my dick is dead.”
I felt her shake with laughter beneath me.
“Let’s go get in the shower,” she whispered. “We’ll see if your dick likes my mouth as much as my pussy.”
FIFTEEN
EASTON
I
stared out the window, seeing the early-morning joggers hop over streetcar tracks and puddles glistening with light from oncoming headlights.
This was the time of day when I liked the city most.
Predawn, before the sun burned off the blue-gray clouds, when the city was heavy with the memory of whatever fun had been had the night before but quiet and peaceful as most still slept.
My favorite time.
“Stop looking at me,” I chastised as I gazed out the window, inhaling his scent as he sat next to me, trying to keep the smile off my face.
“No,” he shot back.
I wasn’t used to someone else being forefront in my mind, but I was always hyper-aware of him now. It kind of sucked. In an attempt to calm myself, I smoothed my hands down my wrinkled skirt and pushed up the sleeves of his white button-down, feeling completely out of order.
“Stop fidgeting,” he commanded.
I turned my head to look at him, arching an eyebrow.
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“You’re all sleek in your pressed suit,” I pointed out, “and I’m doing the walk of shame in no makeup and men’s clothes.”
He was taking me home before he headed into the office. Christian was due back later today, and although he’d told me I could sleep in and he’d have Patrick drive me home later, I didn’t feel right about being there without him. I’d wanted to go home last night, but he’d talked me into staying again.
Today, though, I had work to catch up on, and he had a company to get back to now that the rain had subsided.
He smiled over at me and reached up, pushing the button to raise the privacy glass between Patrick and us.
“You’re stunning,” he said in all seriousness, giving me that look of his that made me hot. “And you shouldn’t be embarrassed. I’m lucky people can’t see the scratch marks on my back,” he joked.
It made me laugh as an image of the marks on his back in the shower this morning flashed through my mind.
Butterflies fluttered through my chest, and I released the breath I’d been holding. Maybe that was the ticket. Picture him naked, and he wasn’t so formidable.
“If you’d like,” he started in his smooth voice, “I can offer you an opportunity to rebuild your self-esteem.”
I cocked my head, peering over at him. “Oh?”
He nodded. “I’m hosting a luncheon at the house this Sunday, and I want you there,” he stated, and then blinked. “I would like you there,” he corrected, as if remembering he wasn’t addressing an employee.
I shook my head, even as a grin escaped. The gesture thrilled me, though I would never admit it to him. I looked back out the window, lifting my chin.
It didn’t unnerve me that he wanted to see more of me. But it did unnerve me that I liked that he wanted to see more of me.
But at his house? During the day, with other people there? If I were social – which I wasn’t – it would still be awkward. And make what we were doing even less tactful.
“Tyler, we can’t —”
“Not together,” he interrupted, reassuring me. “But I like to see you and not be able to touch you. It adds to the fun.”
When I turned toward him, expecting to see a mischievous smile, instead I saw a serious, even expression that made me rethink my smart-ass comeback. His eyes were pinned to mine, and I turned forward again, taking a deep breath and resisting the urge to crawl into his lap.
I cleared my throat. “What kind of luncheon is it?”
“Networking,” he answered. “The city elite, a few politicians…” He trailed off, sounding bored. “Christian will be there.”
“Thanks.” I shook my head. “But I think —”
He cut me off. “You can bring a friend, if you like. Or your brother?”
I sat up straight, steeling my jaw.
I didn’t want to decline the invitation, but I knew I had to. Even if we weren’t romantically involved, it was a conflict of interest to attend parties at a student’s home.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” he teased. “I’m sure you can handle the company.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.
“I’m not nervous,” I argued, turning my head to regard him again. “And I know what you’re trying to do.”
He thought I couldn’t handle myself around his crowd. I’d played tennis with movie stars in the stands.
The car slowed to a stop, and I glanced outside to see that we had arrived in front of my house. Leaves and fronds from a few palm trees in the neighborhood littered the ground, but the rest of the house seemed to be fine, despite my lack of shutters. The ground was still wet, the light sprinkle still falling rippling the puddles that had accumulated on the ground.
I picked up my blouse from next to me on the seat and moved to get out, but he caught my arms, stopping me gently.
“Noon,” he said softly, not really demanding but not really asking, either. “I’ll leave you alone the rest of the week, so we can both get some work done,” he explained, taking his hand away and sitting back, “but if you’re not there, I’ll come to get you myself.”
Despite my best intentions, I smirked, rising to his challenge. Then I leaned over the console and placed an innocent kiss on his cheek.
Whispering against his skin, I teased, “I love it when you play predator. It’s so cute.”
But then I yelped when he grabbed me under the arms and dragged me over to his lap, wrapping his arms around me and cutting off my breath with a kiss as he held me tight.
I moaned, but I couldn’t fight. His tongue swirled with mine and his hand slipped up my thigh, grabbing my ass cheek.
His lips moved over mine, eating me up and sending me reeling. My head spun, and I wanted him again.
And if what I could feel poking into my behind was any indication, he wanted me, too.
Tyler and I were one and the same. Both of us hated to be handled.
Until now.
I liked his dominance, and I think he liked mine.
He pulled away, and I felt like the air had been ripped out of my lungs.
He placed his hands on his armrest and breathed hard.
“Now get out of here,” he ordered, his tone turning clipped. “And if you don’t show on Sunday, I’ll never do that again.”
Arrogant, confident, son of a…
I hopped off his lap and pounded on the window for Patrick to let me out. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Marek was smiling.
And when Patrick opened the door, I stepped out, not once turning around for Tyler to see my grin.
Once I’d stepped inside the house, I heard his car pull away, and I closed the door, slipping off my flats.
Catching myself in the large square mirror on the wall perpendicular to the door, I took in my appearance, feeling completely disheveled but not out of sorts. My deep brown hair was clean, but it was a little frizzy, since it hadn’t been blow-dried properly, curled, straightened, or styled in any way. I always thought I looked bland without makeup, but my skin was glowing, and there was a natural blush across my cheeks that I’d never seemed to have before.
The top two buttons of his shirt were open, and I wasn’t wearing a bra, so I could feel the smooth, soft fabric against my sensitive skin. Everything touched me like it was a new feeling. Like my skin had come alive, tingling with frenzy.
I pulled the collar over my nose and inhaled, the smell of a spice, wood, and leather filling my chest.
Twisting around, I hit all the locks on the door and then rounded the entryway into the living room.
I stopped, spotting my brother sprawled out on the couch.
“Jack?” I called, walking up to the couch.
He shifted, lying there in his jeans with no T-shirt as his eyes slowly blinked awake. I looked over at the clock, seeing it was still only six oh four. He must’ve been here overnight.
“What are you doing here?” I rounded the couch to stand next to him.
He opened his eyes and focused on me. “Easton, what the hell?” he grumbled.
Sitting up, he planted his feet on the ground and hunched over, putting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his eyes.
“Did you just get in?” he asked, peering up at me with worried eyes.
I tossed my blouse on the chair off to the side. “Yeah. What are you doing here?” I asked again.
He yawned. “The power went out in my neighborhood yesterday, so I let myself in,” he explained, raising his arms above his head to stretch. “You have cable, so…”
I exhaled a laugh and leaned down to start tossing his soda cans and napkins inside the empty pizza box. I never cleaned up after him, but I was in a good mood this morning.
“Where were you?” he pressed again. “I texted.”
I picked up the pizza box full of his garbage and shoved it to his chest. “I was out,” I answered.
He cocked an eyebrow and set the box aside. His eyes fell down my clothes, and he reached up, rubbing the hem of my
shirt between his fingers.
“Expensive,” he commented, realization crossing his face as he turned away.
He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, but I didn’t care what he was going to say. Jack watched over me too closely, and I was done with it.
“I want nothing more than to see you with someone,” he appeased, “but don’t you think you’re playing with fire?”
I leaned over, picked up the box again, and pushed it against his chest harder this time.
“I like fire,” I stated, and stepped up onto the couch and sat down on its back.
“Yes, you’re a risk taker,” he teased, “but only when you’re sure of the outcome, Easton. Hate to burst your bubble, but those aren’t really risks.”
I shook my head, rolling my eyes at him. “I’m not falling in love with him. We’re both way too complicated for that.”
“Do you want him to?”
“What?” I heaved a sigh.
“Fall in love with you.”
I stared at my brother, trying to keep a hint of a smile on my face to hide the fact that I was actually thinking about it.
Did I want Tyler Marek to love me?
No, no, of course not.
I wanted someone to love me. Eventually. But I didn’t want it to happen yet.
I thought I’d have years to build a relationship with someone. Years to get my life in order. To feel comfortable letting someone in. But not now and not him.
He was too caught up in his own life – as I was in mine.
He was also twelve years older and at a different point in his life. He probably had too many obligations to take time to travel and explore. And he probably had too many hang-ups about his own parenting abilities to want more children. I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to have them, either, but it wasn’t something I was ready to rule out.
No. Tyler Marek was a fling.
I licked my lips, flashing my brother a smile. “He makes me laugh and he turns me on,” I taunted. “And I love it when he does this thing with his tongue —”
Misconduct Page 18
