Hearts on Hold

by Charish Reid

  “Tell me, Victoria,” he said. “Meet me halfway.”

  She wanted him. All of him. This was another test, another part of the courage she had to screw to the sticking place. Just say what you want and he will give it to you. He’d made that promise from the start. “I love you,” she said in a hurried breath.

  His grip tightened.

  “I love you more than I can even articulate.”

  “Try,” he ground out.

  Victoria gave a shaky nod and swallowed. They stood so close now, connected by their hands. She wanted to fall into his chest and bury her face against the V of his shirt. Against the patch of skin revealed through the fabric. “John, I’ve been a professor for nearly a decade, but when I’m with you... I realize I have so much to relearn about life. Your mind is so much more open and inviting than mine. Your heart is full of kindness and patience. I love you, completely and without conditions.”

  There. She’d spilled her guts. Victoria didn’t feel quite as nervous after telling the truth. As she stared into John’s partially hidden face, she wanted to share all her secrets.

  If she was going to make a habit of taking chances, Victoria decided to risk it and push her all of her chips to the center of the table. She stood on her toes, and went in for a kiss that she desperately needed. But John stopped her, just a short distance from his face, and he held her still by the shoulders. “No,” he said in a firm voice.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  John knew what he was prepared to do and it killed him to stop her. Flush against his body, her curves threatened to sink against his hardness. It had taken everything in his being not to laugh when she’d admitted to having the book. For the Duke’s Convenience was the least of his worries. But John had still wanted more. He wanted her to meet him halfway.

  And she had. With the words: I love you.

  As he held her still, merely an inch or so from his face, he tried and failed to not stare at her lips. They were full and inviting, made for kissing and sucking, the bottom one pouted in disappointment. The simple action ripped at John’s heart just as it caused his blood to flow swiftly to his cock. His thin leggings were no match for what was straining at his waist. But instead of pulling her hips to meet his, he held firm to his principles.

  “Take off your mask,” he said.

  Victoria lowered herself back onto her heels, her hands fell away from his chest. She watched him warily, her tongue darting out to nervously lick her bottom lip. John stifled the groan traveling up his throat. She reached up, slid her eye mask over her ski cap, and let it flutter to the floor. When her eyes met his, they were swimming in tears. Her face and neck reddened under his gaze, but her eyes were unwavering.

  With her soul truly bared to him, Victoria was the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on. Contrition was etched on her face as her chest rose and fell in short panicked bursts. She’d done something more terrifying than touring McLean’s Haunted Warehouse: she’d admitted she was wrong. The hardheaded woman had told him that she loved him. His mind, his heart, and John was fairly certain, his body was included in the package. John wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her close. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she fell against his chest. She felt what was throbbing just below his waist and shifted slightly, instinctively rocking her hips against his strained cock. “Jesus,” he hissed, pressing his hand to the small of her back.

  “Can I kiss you now?” she whispered.

  His voice caught in his throat when she blinked. A single tear fell from the corner of her eye, towards her temple. Her face was upturned and so very close to his, waiting on him to say something. “That depends,” he said sternly.

  “Tell me,” she breathed.

  “If this is going to work between us, and god knows I want it to, I have rules.”

  She reached up and wiped her tear away. “I like rules,” she said with a nod.

  It took everything in him not to smile at her candor. “Be honest with me, tell me what’s on your mind. Stop hiding away behind some day-planning armor.”

  “Okay.”

  “Stop pretending to be someone you’re not for everyone you meet. You can be a rhetorician, but quit losing yourself in all of these roles.”

  She took a deep breath before replying. “Okay.”

  “Can you come up with a plan for working on that?”

  A smile tugged at her lips. “I can actually do that.”

  While holding her, John felt proud of both of them. For the first time, they were truly honest with one another. The heaviness in his heart slowly disappeared, leaving him relieved and excited for this second chance. “Now, would you still like that kiss?”

  She answered by pressing forward.

  There was electricity in Victoria’s lips as they made contact with his. The jolt stunned him and traveled throughout his body, from his arms and to the tips of his fingers. Her mouth shook him to his core so violently, he opened his eyes to make certain it was only a human woman kissing him. A human woman with a pagan goddess’s tongue to be sure. John let his eyes fall shut as she eased her tongue through the barrier of his lips. She gripped his shoulders, then his neck, and finally the sides of his face, as she pulled him down to meet her. While connected, he whipped off his hat and flung it somewhere in the office before dragging his mask from his eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, John,” she whispered in between kisses. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

  He didn’t ignore the admission, but he wasn’t interested in replying. His tongue was busy battling hers, sparring and sliding against her in a feverish attempt to possess her. He devoured her like a man on his death bed. As if she were the last drink of water in the desert. Her lips were soft against his, pliant and lush, and the more she gave, the more he took. Her hands slipped behind his head, fingers raking through his ponytail. Electricity gathered in his scalp, traveled through his neck to his chest. Soft moans vibrated against his lips as she pulled him near.

  John’s hands traveled their own electric path. One stayed planted on her ass, squeezing and kneading her soft flesh, pushing her against his erection. The other swept up her torso and landed on her breast. He squeezed the full globe and cursed his gloved hands. He needed to feel all of her.

  In frustration, he broke away from her lips and finally inhaled. With his teeth, he wrenched off his leather gloves and cast them to the floor with his discarded mask. “Victoria, I need to...”

  Her eyes seemed to understand his strangled request. “Now?”

  “Please.”

  She nodded and made quick work of undoing her belt. “Right.”

  “I mean, if it’s okay with you,” he said, watching her trembling fingers work.

  “It’s absolutely fine with me,” she said with a chuckle.

  John locked the door behind him. “I missed you so much.” He came back to her and slipped the ski-cap from her head, tossing it to the floor. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  As he reached up to remove his cape, Victoria’s hand caught his. “No,” she said, licking her lips. “Leave it on. Leave all of it on.”

  This time, he couldn’t hold back the groan in his throat. Fun Victoria had come out to play. “Does it do something for you?” he asked, slowly backing her into the desk behind him. Their eyes locked as she moved backwards, her hands undoing her zipper.

  “I don’t know what you’re supposed to be, but I like it,” she said.

  “I’m Zorro, I think.” They stopped when the backs of her thighs hit his desk. Thank god, he’d cleared it off. “Or that guy from The Princess Bride.”

  “You look like a dangerous highwayman,” she whispered, shoving her black jeans down. “Who’s about to rob me of my valuables and virtue.”

  “Exactly,” he said, leaning over to pull her legs out of her pants. “I like where this is going.” On his knees, he hooked h
is thumbs through the waistband of her panties and pulled them to her ankles. When she stepped out of them and leaned against his desk, Victoria parted her legs, opening herself to him.

  He could have lost it then and there.

  John drew himself back to his feet and stared at the sexy women sitting on his desk. She was naked from the waist down, suggestively pushing her thighs apart, then closed. “You have something that I want, m’lady,” he said, removing the belt holding his saber and whip. He reached into his pants and pulled out his straining cock.

  With sultry hooded eyes, Victoria leaned back on her elbows. “Give me your worst, you dastardly blackguard.”

  John grinned as he moved between her thighs, pushing them apart with strong hands. “I don’t remember that in the book,” he said, giving her soft opening a teasing brush with his cock. Already slick with arousal and hot to the touch, he rocked his length against her clit.

  Victoria hissed and squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know where I read that,” she panted, raising her hips to connect with him.

  “Can you stay quiet, Victoria?” John asked, licking his thumb. Once he pressed it to her swollen core, she jerked and let out a long, deep sigh. As he moved his thumb in circles over her clit, he noted the movement of her hips as they kept time with his pace. A lovely deep red settled over her brown cheeks as her mouth fell open.

  “Maybe,” she breathed.

  “Maybe?” He applied pressure as he leaned forward and cupped the back of her head with his free hand. He didn’t want her to miss this show; their union.

  “Yes,” she said, though it may not have been a reply to his question. Her affirmative could have been something altogether different because it played on repeat the more he circled her sensitive flesh. “Yes, yes, oh god, yes, Johnny,” became her new mantra and she recited it with a feverish whisper as her face contorted into an agonized expression.

  * * *

  Her Zorro, her Westley, her highwayman, assaulted her senses and made her see stars. Just with the touch of his thumb. When Victoria caught her breath and opened her eyes, she came face to face with her lover, John Donovan. His green eyes glittered above hers, growing darker with hunger. She had remained as quiet as she could, but he hadn’t even gotten to the main event. Victoria was losing grip on propriety and damned glad for it.

  John was waiting on her.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Now.”

  It was all he needed to hear. Planting one hand at her side, he leaned forward and pushed the tip of his penis past her folds. As he stretched and filled her with an achingly slow patience, hot tears pricked her eyes. She gasped at his pleasant intrusion and pushed against him in response.

  “No, honey,” he said, holding her hips still. “Let me go slow.”

  Victoria’s gaze flitted to his pleading eyes, his flared nostrils, and relished in the pleasure she offered him. His hips moved in a slow and steady rhythm, rocking her gently against the hard surface of his desk. He whipped his cape back and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “I want to commit this to memory for as long as I live,” he whispered, leaning down to run his hand under her shirt. When he found her breast, he fanned his long dexterous fingers over the smooth satin of her bra. Her nipple stood at attention, begging for more stimulation. “When you’re not with me, I want to remember your soft skin, your beautiful curves, this wet heat surrounding my cock. Every fucking inch of you, Victoria.”

  She raised herself on her elbows to give him easier access to her breasts, and was thankful when he pulled down the cup of her bra to pinch her nipple. A low hungry moan forced its way up her chest and spilled past her lips. Her frenzied breath could not be controlled as John moved in and out of her. She wished she could say that the smacks of skin and muscle were the only sounds that filled John’s office, but her pants of arousal joined the cacophony. Soon, his moans accompanied hers, keeping rhythm with the union of their bodies.

  He pulled his hand away from her breast and clutched her hip, pulling her onto his cock with more force. “Faster,” Victoria panted. “Don’t stop.” Heat climbed her neck as he drove into her. All I have to do is ask for it. John sped up the pace, cords stretching along his neck as he gripped her hips tighter. In her position, all she could do was let him control the rhythm. God knew her back would be sore from this desk. A deep throb mounted within her womb, pulsating throughout her body as she took John to the hilt. She clenched around him, pulling him in close with her legs. The deep throb soon turned into an arousing pressure, threatening to unfurl and set fire to her entire body. Victoria, on the verge of tears, reached down between their joined bodies and touched herself to release the building tension.

  John’s eyes followed her hand and watched as she caressed herself, plucking at the string that was holding the last of her sanity together. “Yes, baby,” he groaned through clenched jaws.

  Her pants turned into breathless moans with every slam of John’s hips. Victoria’s fingers worked her clit in small circles. “Yes, yes, oh god please...” The prayer died on her lips as her walls spasmed around him. Her back arched away from the desk as a keening wail escaped her. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, she pulled John closer to her and rode the wave of pleasure that swept over her body until it left her thighs shuddering against his hips.

  Without the strength to carry on, Victoria went limp in his embrace, breathing through the last electric currents of her second orgasm of the night. Second? Jesus... John took her exhausted legs, skillfully ducked under one, and crossed her ankles over his shoulder near his neck. With her legs pinned together, the friction intensified, as his free hand wrapped around her thighs. “My love,” he muttered punctuating every thrust. “You are mine.”

  He was near the end of his own fraying rope. When he muttered an unintelligible curse under his breath, Victoria finally opened her eyes to see him pull out of her. With an unexpectedly elegant sweep of his cape, he came on the black screen of fabric. His face flushed bright scarlet, from his nose to the tips of his ears, as he doubled over and emptied himself. “Goddamn,” he growled with a ferocity she’d never heard before.

  Pulling her tired body to a sitting position, Victoria became aroused all over again at the sight of him losing all control. She did that to him. “Well, you can’t wear that anymore,” she breathed.

  He glanced up with brows knitted at the middle. A broad smile spread over his face as he straightened up. “No, I can’t,” he exhaled his laugh. He quickly adjusted himself behind the cape before unhooking it from his neck and tossing it onto a nearby chair. “Should I send your coach on its way, m’lady?”

  “You can hand me my underwear,” Victoria said as she primly crossed her legs.

  John swooped low to grab her discarded panties from the floor. “No, madam, these are mine. Valuables and virtue, remember?”

  “You are a dastardly blackguard.”

  He raised his arms as he approached her. “I am,” he said, stopping right before her.

  Victoria peered at him from under her lashes, suddenly bashful by their current state. “Did you mean what you wrote on my library account? That I’m the love of your life?” The words fell from her tongue before she could think them through. There was nothing like post-coital honesty.

  She feared that it was a mistake to mention, but John planted his hands on both sides of her legs and leaned over her. He pressed his brow to hers and closed his eyes. “Of course I meant it,”

  Victoria pulled away to search his face. “When did you wipe my record?”

  John leaned closer and nuzzled her neck, his beard tickling her throat, making her nipples harden again. His promise to pay attention to every inch of her body was a serious one. “I did it the day you met my mothers.” His lips dragged over her pulse, sucking the warm spot before leaving it for her earlobe.

  She could barely think with his teeth gently tugging at
the sensitive flesh, his hot breath fanning her face. “You did that...”

  “I called you ‘my love’ on accident and then subjected you to Maggie and Sandy,” he said, running his tongue along the curve of her ear. “Clearing your account was only fair, but I didn’t add the note until this morning. I love you, Victoria.”

  Victoria angled her face to meet his. “After what I did?”

  “My love, I would give you unlimited rental privileges if it meant you came back to me.”

  Chapter Forty

  John meant every word. He searched her face to see if she understood that. Tears stood bright in her wide eyes, threatening to spill with a single blink. Victoria cradled his face in her hands and stared at him. “John,” she whispered.

  “I should have told you the last time we were together,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “Next time I won’t wait.”

  Upon hearing that, Victoria crumbled into a quiet sob. She hung on to his face as she dipped her own, desperate to hide her tears from him.

  “No, no, don’t cry,” he said, hooking a finger around her chin. “Baby, you don’t have to—”

  “I love you too,” she said with a sniffle. “I love you, John Donovan.”

  Why the hell is she sobbing? John grinned and kissed her lips. “Say it again.”

  Tears flowed as she hiccupped. “I love you, John—”

  He covered her mouth with a crushing kiss before she could finish her sentence. He laughed against her mouth and held her close. Her breasts pressed against his chest and her arms wrapped around his neck. As he dragged his lips away to brush his thumb against her tear stained cheeks. “Do you want your pants?” he asked.

  Victoria wiped her eyes and laughed. “Yes please.”

  “You can’t have your panties,” he said, moving away from her and placing the garment in a desk drawer. “They belong with your other pair.”