Mr. Misunderstood

by Sara Jane Stone

  “Careful,” he gasps as his mouth lowers to my chest. He brushes a kiss against the swell of my breasts. “You don’t want to alert the neighbors.”

  “Or they might lean out over the glass divider down by the chairs and sneak a peek at us?”

  “Kayla.” He pulls back and looks down at me. Desire radiates from his dark eyes. “Does that turn you on?”

  He thrusts into me, but doesn’t retreat again. He stays still as if waiting for my answer. I hear the music reach a fever pitch of drums and guitar. Another time, at another concert, I could get lost in the fury of sound. But tonight I’m already lost … in Gavin.

  “Kayla?”

  “You turn me on.”

  “Damn right,” he growls and then he begins to move again. With each thrust, my world narrows. The concert shifts into the distance. I feel as if I’m …

  “Gavin!”

  The cry interrupts my thoughts. He’s thrusting harder now, driving into me, reaching a place with that amazing cock that’s designed to set off fireworks inside me. I close my eyes and let go. I fall into the pleasure, knowing that for the first time, I’m safe here.

  “Oh yes! Yes! Gavin!”

  Every muscle in my body tenses as I open my eyes. The lights flash, spinning and swirling through the stadium. I catch a glimpse of Gavin’s expression, filled with wonder, before he tips his head back. He gives one last thrust, and I know he’s followed me over the edge.

  I hold tightly to him, not daring to move until he returns from Orgasm Land. Down on the stage below, the band announces their final number. Slowly, he opens his eyes and looks down at me. He flashes a cocky grin and raises an eyebrow. I know he’s waiting for me to say it.

  “You win,” I admit. “I’ll take the dogs out in the morning. But now I’m wondering—”

  Knock. Knock.

  The knob turns, but then the lock catches.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Black? Can you unlock the door?” the server calls through the door. “We like to keep the exits unlocked during shows.”

  “Just a minute,” he calls. He gently lowers me to the ground. He takes his time releasing me as if needing to be certain I won’t fall over. Then he reaches for his clothes.

  “Tell me,” he says, pulling on his boxers. “Before I let the stadium staff in, what are you wondering?”

  “I’m wondering if you’re this good in a plain old bed, where the only threat of discovery has four legs, not two.”

  The look he gives me as he drinks in the sight of my naked body … The pure hunger in his gaze … I can hear the impatient server on the other side of the door, but still, I’m not rushing to pull my jeans and shirt back on. Not when he’s is looking at me like that.

  I’ve worked hard to feel comfortable in my own skin. I forced myself to stop worrying if anyone else approved of how I look.

  “Kayla?” He’s pulling on his shirt and making quick work of the buttons. “I love seeing you naked.”

  The rush of joy at hearing those words rivals my orgasm. I’ve spent so much time trying to feel happy with myself that I never stopped to think that someone else might approve too.

  He picks up my jeans and shirt. Then he holds them out to me. “But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to share the sight with our waiter.”

  “Okay.” It’s all I can manage as I scramble into my clothes.

  Gavin ties his dress shoes and then heads for the door. He pauses halfway across the space. “Once I’m done convincing our waiter that we weren’t up to anything illegal in here, I’ll take you home and show you what we can do in a plain, old bed.”

  CHAPTER 16

  GAVIN

  I’ve had sex in my apartment before.

  Yeah, I know that’s a strange thought to replay over and over in my mind as I lead the way off the elevator. The dogs rush to greet us, and I’m still rationalizing taking my best friend to my bed.

  Kayla makes a beeline for the dog sitter. I hang back and kneel beside Ava. The Shepard rolls on her back, offering her belly for a rub. I oblige while I try to reclaim the surge of confidence I felt in the suite.

  I gave Kayla one hell of an orgasm. For a second, I think she forgot we were in public. The way she cried out …

  Ava nudges my hand with her wet nose, and I realize I’ve stopped petting the pup, too lost in the replay of Kayla’s movements. I start scratching again.

  I’ve wanted Kayla for a long time. There’s a freedom in admitting that now. But we never crossed the line until tonight. I knew exactly what I was doing. Even if it turns out to be a disaster, I knew.

  What about Kayla? Was she delivering my all-time fantasy? Was she playing a part? The role of my eager fiancée so the server would call the gossip magazines and report we locked the door to the suite?

  Or did she just want to fuck me?

  Yeah, I know she would object to my language. But I spent the entire limo ride from Brooklyn holding her close to my side while I replayed what happened in the suite.

  Kayla walked into one of my wildest sexual fantasies and took off her clothes.

  We broke every rule we wrote for ourselves. Almost all. There’s still the rule about ending this together. But how the hell do we go back to being friends now that I know what she sounds like when she comes?

  “Gavin?”

  I look up. How long have I been staring at her blissed-out dog, absentmindedly scratching her belly?

  “I sent your assistant home,” she says. “She said goodnight, but you were so focused on Ava that you didn’t respond.”

  “I was thinking.”

  Kayla lowers down to the ground. The terrier pup climbs into her lap before a cat dares to claim it. “Having second thoughts about sex in the suite?” she asks softly.

  “No.” I wouldn’t have followed another path. That doesn’t change the fact that I walked off the elevator without a plan. Sure, we talked about moving our naked party to my bed. But Kayla isn’t like any other woman I’ve brought home. I can’t formulate a game plan that starts with her removing her clothes and ends with my best friend beneath me, screaming my name again.

  Ave nudges my arm again and I glance at the dog.

  “Do they need to go out again?” I ask.

  “They went for a walk an hour ago. The animals are all set for the night.” She takes my hand and pulls it away from Ava. Then she shifts Cleveland off her lap and stands, drawing me up with her.

  “Do you need a stroll before we test out your bed? Maybe a little sex in the fresh air? The chance of being caught again? Maybe on camera with your pants down?”

  Her voice is playful, matching the glint in her eyes. But damn, her words are casting a spell on my cock. I won’t deny that. The picture she’s painting turns me on.

  I shake my head. “Kayla, if you thought that was something you had to do to sell this plan to the press—”

  “I didn’t,” she interrupts. “If that was our goal, we could have tried the fake sex noises again. I wanted you.” She releases my hand. “I still do. And there’s no one watching us now.”

  “No one,” I confirm.

  She nods and then takes a step backward. The pack of dogs follows her every move. Hell, I am too, although I’m betting our goals are different. They’d like to see their mistress head for their food dish. I’m wondering if she’ll sprint to my bedroom.

  Kayla spins on her heel and dances through the living room. Her shirt hits the dining room table as she rounds the corner, spinning and laughing as if what we’re doing here won’t impact our world.

  Maybe she’s right.

  “I win,” I say to the dogs as I strip off my suit. Cleveland grabs my discarded pants by the belt and drags them to his bed. He can keep them. But shit, what if he swallows a piece of leather? He could require a midnight trip to the pet emergency room.

  Wearing only my boxers, I cross the living room and tug my pants from his mouth. “My belt isn’t your consolation prize.”

  I carry my clothes to my office, sl
ide open the door, and toss them inside. Kayla’s probably in my bed by now. Naked. My cock throbs at the mental image. I fucking loved taking her up against the suite wall. But the thought of her slipping between my sheets stirs something primitive inside me.

  She’s mine.

  I hear what sounds like my fridge door opening. My brow furrows. Did my brain misfire? I expected to hear her pants flying across my kitchen, maybe landing in the kitchen sink. When she said she wanted me, I went with the literal translation of I want to fuck you now. On your bed, while enacting the scenes from my wildest fantasies playbook seeing as we just finished your number one turn-on.

  Okay, maybe I’m reading too much into her “I want you” statement. Maybe she meant: I want to have wild, crazy sex in your bed, but first I need a snack.

  I’ll admit I like my first interpretation better. Either way, I’m going to find out. I follow her and spot her bra on the kitchen floor. That’s a good sign. I slip my fingers under the waistband of my boxers and strip them off. Once my underwear lies beside hers, I head down the hallway.

  When I reach the doorway to my room, I freeze. Not a smooth, stop and lean against the entryway. Oh, hell no. I stumble and nearly hit the floor at the sight of Kayla sitting on the edge of my king-size bed. Surrounded by the crisp white bedding, she looks petite. She’s crossed her legs in a prim and proper pose and her hands rest in her lap. With her long hair tossed behind her shoulders, her bare breasts are in full view.

  And there’s a bottle of chilled champagne at her feet.

  I recover my balance and rest one shoulder against the door jam. I stop myself before I cross my arms in front of my chest. Her gaze flits to my abs as if she wants to lick a path down my body, testing the shape of my muscles with her tongue. Yeah, I’m reading a little too much into her hungry gaze. But she has a thing for my abs.

  “You look like you’re ready for a very naughty business meeting,” I say.

  “Do you drink at the office?” she asks, reaching for the bottle. She deftly strips off the foil.

  “As a rule? No.” I fight to keep my voice level. Watching her fingers work the cork, pressing it back and forth as she tries to free it from the bottle, leaves my dick aching to feel her touch. “But I also wear clothes to conduct business.”

  “Then this isn’t a meeting.” She uncrosses her legs, resting both feet on the rug. I can see the dark curls between her legs. While my imagination fast-forwards to my face buried between her thighs, licking her until she comes, I step into the room, pulling the door closed behind me.

  “No,” I say, taking another step forward. “If you worked for me, I couldn’t feel you come against my mouth.”

  “We’ll get to that.” She grins as if she knows she’s playing with fire … and she likes it. She nods toward the brown leather chair in the corner of my bedroom. “Sit down.”

  There’s no internal debate. I’m not interested in playing the dominant right now. I’m ready and willing to follow her instructions. “You have a plan?”

  The cork punctuates my question with a pop. The dogs bark at the sound, and I’m damn glad I closed the door. I can hear them running through the hall, searching for the invasion.

  “I have an idea,” she says, ignoring her pups. Luna’s cone bumps against the walls as they retreat to the living room.

  “Something I’ve never tried before,” she continues.

  Another virgin territory. I fucking love that I’m her first. I don’t have a clue what we’re doing, but she can pour the champagne over us while we fuck for all I care. If it turns her on, I’m game. Especially if it’s something she’s never shared with anyone else.

  “You can try anything with me,” I say.

  “I know.”

  I hear the hint of wonder in her tone. How many hidden fantasies does she have? And how the hell did she survive five years of marriage without ever exploring what turned her on?

  I push that second question aside. I’m not bringing her ex into my bedroom. Or any other guy she’s slept with in the past.

  She’s mine.

  “So what’s on the menu?” There’s a rough edge to my voice. I’m so fucking hard right now. I wrap my right hand around my cock and give myself a stroke up to the tip. If I don’t take a little action, I’ll reach for her. And I can’t ruin her plan. Bondage, roll play, spanking—I’m ready and willing to indulge her kinks.

  She stands, carrying the open bottle of bubbly in one hand. “For the appetizer coarse, I thought we’d start with a blow job.”

  “If you insist.”

  “Then for the main course, I plan to fuck your brains out.”

  “That’s a dirty word,” I say.

  “We don’t have many secrets between us.” She stops in front of me and places her free hand on my bare thigh. Gently, she guides my legs apart and lowers herself between them. “Does it surprise you that I like dirty words when they fit the situation?”

  I nod a brief affirmation, but I’m not thinking about her language anymore. Kayla’s naked and on her knees, her mouth inches from my cock. Her dark eyes are staring up at me, and shit, I swear she sees me. Not just the cocky billionaire, and not the kid she befriended all those year ago, but they guy who is a little bit of both.

  Take her.

  She gives me a wicked grin, and I wonder if she can read my mind. Then she leans forward. Her tongue touches my cock and my brain short-circuits.

  She’s licking me like I’m a lollipop.

  Her hand joins in the action as the head of my cock disappears between her lips. Her hair falls forward like a curtain threatening to steal away the view. I reach out and tuck the long locks behind her ear.

  I need to see her. This isn’t just another blowjob. It fucking matters that Kayla’s down on her knees with her mouth around me. It’s as if she’s wrapped up everything I need, everything I want, with a pretty little bow and hand-delivered it to me.

  Her mouth abandons my cock. My hips thrust up into her hand. I’m not complaining about the way her fingers glide over me, but I’m close to begging for her lips around me again. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her free hand reach for the bottle.

  “I hope this works,” she murmurs, raising the champagne to her lips.

  You can’t go wrong. I’d tell her that, but with her hand wrapped around my cock and her breasts on full display while she tips her head back and swallows a mouthful of champagne, all I can manage is a nod.

  “Oops.” She lowers the bottle and laughs. “I wasn’t supposed to swallow.”

  Oh fuck. I’m going to come before she closes her lips around my cock again.

  “You’re killing me,” I growl. And yeah, I’m impressed that I found the power of speech.

  “Just wait.” She raises the bottle to her lips again.

  I keep my gaze fixed on her as she takes in a mouthful of bubbly and then lowers her head. Her lips part just enough to wrap around me again. And no, the champagne doesn’t exactly stay in her mouth. It’s all over me, but I don’t give a shit. The sensation blows my mind.

  “Kayla.” My hips thrust up into her mouth. She doesn’t retreat. Her eyes are closed, the champagne’s all but forgotten, except for the remaining bubbles threatening to push me over the edge.

  Not yet. I want her with me, screaming my name.

  “You know what would make this better?” I say.

  She looks up at me, her lips still gliding up and down. But she raises an eyebrow as if to ask You really want me to stop?

  “The bed,” I say before my cock wins my internal debate, and I shut the hell up. “I only have one first night with you. And I want you to come with me.”

  She releases her hold on me. “If you insist.”

  “I do.” I try to find the words to tell her that tonight’s different. I’ve had sex in my apartment before, but never with a woman who means so fucking much to me. I can’t lose her. Today, tomorrow, next month, hell, next year, I need her in my life.

  When I open
my mouth to tell her what I’m thinking, all that comes out is, “Let me make love to you.”

  She studies my face for a second.

  Fuck. What if she can read my mind?

  “Okay,” she says.

  She rises up from the floor and backs up until her legs touch the bed. Then she falls back. Her hair fans out against the white sheets. And I swear every inch of her beautiful curves, of her soft inviting body, look as if she belongs right there.

  “You are planning to join me, right?”

  “Yeah.” I’m on my feet, heading for the nightstand. I need a condom while my brain’s still forming coherent thoughts. Once I climb onto the bed, I’ll be lost.

  I cover myself and then join her. Our legs tangle as my mouth finds hers. My weight rests on my elbows. I’m hovering over her, close enough to feel her breasts brush against my chest as I slide into her …

  Fuck me.

  She’s arching beneath me … moving with me …

  “Kayla.”

  “I’ve got you.” Her hands press against my back. “I’m right here with you, Gavin.”

  Those words … ah hell … I don’t know if it’s the sound of her voice, or the way she’s convulsing around me, screaming my name, but I can’t hold back. I follow her over the damn cliff into pure fucking bliss.

  I think I’m in love this woman.

  Yeah, I’m pretty sure I don’t say those orgasm-fueled words out loud. But even if I did, I feel too damn good to care.

  A second later, I roll to her side, panting hard. I draw her close with one arm, while my other hand works to remove the condom. I toss it to floor, silently promising to clean up in the morning. Right now, I can’t let her go. I need to hold Kayla close.

  “Wow,” she murmurs. “That was an amazing first-night performance. Auditioning for a repeat?”

  “Something like that. Tomorrow,” I murmur. I’m drifting off to sleep. Every muscle of my body’s relaxed, and I have Kayla curled against my side.

  “Tomorrow,” I try again. “I want to end tomorrow just like this.”

  “Sticky and naked?” she asks.

  Feeling as if I’ve reached the pinnacle of fucking happiness.