* * *
“Girl, it’s been ages since we caught up,” Kaz said, enveloping me in a hug. She set down two bottles of wine and a takeout pizza on the kitchen worktop. “I want to hear everything, and by that, I mean every single detail.”
I knew her demand referred to Tate rather than the job, but suddenly, I felt protective of him. It was bad enough the press had acquired a couple of pictures of us together. I didn’t want our fledgling relationship to become front-page news.
After opening the wine, I poured us each a glass. We didn’t bother with plates for the pizza, simply eating it straight from the box.
“This is delicious,” I said, munching.
“Giovanni’s is the best,” Kaz agreed. She took a large bite out of her slice, wiping pepperoni juice from her chin.
“Sorry I haven’t been in touch,” I said. “If you’d told me how exhausting this job is, I might have thought twice. How could I think it’d be a nice break from the chaos of the emergency room?”
She laughed. “Yeah, it’s deceptive. And don’t forget all the traveling back and forth really sucks your energy. Of course, shagging one of the drivers will add to your tiredness. Not that I’d know what that’s like.” She gestured at herself. “This body isn’t exactly driver fodder.”
“Stop it, Kaz,” I said. “You are gorgeous, and you know it.” She was, too, although she didn’t see it.
She thought that because she wasn’t a willowy five feet ten with legs up to her armpits and model-perfect looks that she wasn’t a catch. She conveniently forgot that when we were in medical school, all the guys wanted her, but she’d been far too busy studying to notice them, determined to qualify at the top of her class rather than waste time on meaningless sex. She’d made up for it since then, though, chewing through men as quickly as I consumed pizza after a fasting.
“Bollocks,” she scoffed. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about me. I came to talk about you.”
“What about me?” I stalled, washing the pizza down with a large slug of wine.
“Come on, Mads. Feed my voyeuristic tendencies. What’s he like in bed? Does he prefer missionary, doggy style, up against the wall? What’s his staying power like? Has he tried to get in the backdoor yet?”
“Jesus, Kaz,” I said, appalled. “I’m not spilling details, so give it up.”
She pouted. “Spoilsport. Come on, you gotta give me something. At least tell me the size of his dick. I won’t tell a soul. Cross my heart.”
Laughing, I covered my face. Kaz had never possessed a filter, nor did she suffer embarrassment of any kind when talking about sex. I used to be much more circumspect, but over the years, she’d beaten that out of me, metaphorically speaking.
“I thought you’d already seen it. Remember that story about the girls who broke into his apartment before he added more security?”
“Yeah, but he didn’t have a boner in that picture. Come on, Mads. Gimme the real deets. The interesting juicy ones.”
I held my hands in the air. “Okay, okay. Eight inches. Slight curve to the right. Amazing girth. Can we talk about something else now please?”
“Ooh, eight inches… impressive. Good news about the girth, too. No one likes a needle dick. Better for him to wriggle the hips and force that baby into the cookie jar rather than have it not even touch the sides.”
I shook my head. “You’re incorrigible.”
She nudged me playfully. “You love me.”
“That I do,” I said. “Although, goodness only knows why.”
“But he’s proficient, yes? I mean, he knows what to do with a clit?”
“No more details!” I said, exasperated. “It’s private.”
She nodded sagely. “Yeah, he knows. That’s good. Remember that idiot you went out with in our first year at med school? What was his name again? The one who couldn’t find a woman’s clit with a map which, considering he wanted to be a gynecologist, didn’t bode well for his future career.”
“Martin,” I said, laughing.
“That’s him. Good-looking, if I recall, which goes to prove looks aren’t worth a damn thing if the guy can’t shag for shit. I mean, ugliness can be covered up with a paper bag over their head, but a stellar performance in bed can’t be faked.”
“I wonder what happened to him?” I mused.
“Who the fuck cares,” Kaz said. “Apart from you, I didn’t keep in touch with anyone from med school. They were all dull, dull, dull. That’s why you stood out. You had brains, beauty, and a wicked sense of humor.”
I touched our heads together. “Those were fun times.”
“Yeah, but banging Tate Flynn must be a lot more fun.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“I couldn’t possibly say.”
We burst into a fit of giggles. I was so glad I’d invited Kaz over this evening. Not that I’d had any better offers. I hadn’t heard from Tate since he’d dropped me off on Sunday night after we’d flown back from Hungary in his jet. I’d gone to call him several times but didn’t want to appear like some kind of a bunny boiler. He’d get in touch when he had time.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
Kaz emptied the last of her wine and, with an unsteady hand, put her glass on the coffee table.
“Right, my lovely, I think I need to go home.” She got to her feet, stretched, and yawned. “Let’s not leave it so long next time.”
“I won’t,” I said, guilt swarming my chest because it was my fault we hadn’t caught up sooner. “How about we squeeze in another meet-up before I go back to work?”
“Sounds like a plan.” She kissed my cheek. “Say hi to Tate and his eight-incher for me.”
I shot her a look. “If you say anything,” I warned.
“I won’t. Mum’s the word.” She pinched her thumb and forefinger together and made a zipping motion across her lips. “Love you, girl. I’ll be thinking of you on Friday.”
Her words cut into me. Dean’s birthday was fast approaching, but I’d shoved it to the back of my mind. I mustn’t have hidden my pain well enough, though, because Kaz muttered, “Oh fuck,” and her arms came around me. “I’m so sorry, Mads. I know it’s hard, but I didn’t want to leave without you knowing I hadn’t forgotten.”
I put a brave face on and set my lips into the semblance of a smile. “I know you wouldn’t forget, silly,” I said. “Thank you for tonight. It really helped take my mind off it.”
She nodded. “Give your mum and dad a big hug for me, okay?”
“I will.”
I closed the door. Once I’d made sure she’d gone, I sank to the floor and huddled my knees into my chest. But no matter how much I prayed for relief, the tears wouldn’t come.
Tate
“What are you doing tonight? And in case you’re wondering, the right answer is me.”
Madison laughed down the phone. I hadn’t seen her since I’d dropped her off on Sunday night which, considering today was Thursday, had been torturous. I hadn’t planned for my loose ends to take so long, but now they were all sewn up, my summer break could finally begin. And I couldn’t think of anyone better to spend it with than the woman on the other end of the line.
“Damn. I planned on washing my hair,” she said. “I was really looking forward to it, too.” She sighed dramatically. “I suppose I can muster the energy to see you, somehow.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said. “Well, if it’s energy you need, I guess I’d better bring food over.”
“Am I doing you before or after dinner?” She giggled.
“Both,” I replied.
An audible hitch of breath reached me.
“Then bring snacks,” she said, her voice low and oozing sex.
An idea came to me, and my dick sprang to life. If the lady wanted snacks, then that was exactly what she’d get.
“I’ll be over at six,” I said.
“I’ll be waiting,” came her reply.
My next call was to Zoey. “I need your help. Grab a pen.�
�� I gave her a list of items.
“Give me an hour,” she said, adding, “That girl of yours is in for a great night. Lucky bitch. I’m definitely having a word with Fred. It’s about time that man of mine upped his game.”
I chuckled. “Just buy two of everything,” I suggested.
“That’s not a bad idea,” she said, chuckling.
True to her word, Zoey arrived at my apartment an hour later and handed me a bag.
I peered inside. “You’re a marvel,” I said, kissing her cheek.
“One day, when you’re retired and no longer have a use for me, I’ll be able to sell my story for millions,” she said.
I knew she was only teasing. I trusted Zoey implicitly. One of the few.
“Nah, by then, no one will be interested in my sexcapades. Besides, I’ll always have a use for you. I’ll need someone to help me pee when I get old.”
She rolled her eyes. “Lucky me. Right, I’m off to persuade Fred to let me drizzle honey on his man bits. Laters.”
“Good luck,” I called after her as the lift doors closed. She stuck up her thumb, then disappeared from view.
I showered, changed, checked the bag one last time, then set off for Madison’s place. I knocked at the door and waited.
“Just a second,” she called out.
I heard a rustling, then the definite clip-clopping of heels. I frowned. Maybe she’d changed her mind about staying in and wanted to go out for dinner instead. Glancing down at my jeans and tennis shoes, I wondered where I could take her that would let me in dressed like this.
She drew back the door, and my mouth popped open. Madison wore a deep-crimson negligee that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, sheer lace-topped hold-ups, and a pair of black peep-toe high heels.
I swallowed, hard. Holding up the bag, I managed to croak, “I brought snacks.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. “I brought… me.”
I groaned, hustling her inside in case anyone walked by. That body was definitely for my eyes only. I managed to control myself long enough to set the bag on a nearby table instead of dropping it on the floor, and caught Madison around the waist.
“You win,” I said, capturing her mouth. Pleasure rushed through me, my dick straining to be set free. I rubbed up against her, desperate for friction, for contact, for anything to quench the red-hot desire deep inside.
“I need,” I muttered, unable to finish what I really wanted to say. I need you. I need inside you so fucking badly. We fell onto the couch in a tangle of legs and sweat and skin. I was gone, no longer present, lost to a mist of desire. My earlier intention of taking it slow, of drawing out the pleasure with the aid of food evaporated. Like an animal, I rutted against her, tugging down the top half of her lingerie. I sucked an erect nipple into my mouth, grazing it with my teeth, biting harder when she arched her back and dug her nails into my scalp.
“Can’t wait,” I mumbled into her neck.
“Then don’t,” she replied, those two words exactly what I needed to hear.
This time I’d come prepared. Unzipping my jeans, I pulled out my cock—yep, I’d gone commando—tore open a condom packet, and slid it on. Two seconds later, I pushed inside her, thrusting, biting, sucking, licking, kissing at every inch of skin I could reach. I didn’t know what possessed me, but I couldn’t control the strength of my desire for this woman. When it came to her, I was done for. Pure instinct took over, conscious thought became impossible. I could only feel.
My orgasm hit so damn hard, I cursed, not ready for this to be over. Groaning, I rode it out, waiting for my cock to stop twitching. When it did, and my brain engaged once more, horror crashed over me.
What the hell did I just do?
I didn’t even consider Madison as I’d relentlessly fucked her. I didn’t think about her comfort, her pleasure, her needs and desires. I needed to do some serious apologizing to this amazing, giving woman panting beneath me, and then I’d better spend the rest of the night making it up to her.
Hell, if she’d have me, I’d spend the rest of my life treating her like a fucking queen.
Madison
I stroked Tate’s damp hair, waiting for us both to catch our breath, one foot balanced on the floor, the other wrapped around Tate’s calf. He was still inside me, softening now. I could feel him slipping out, so I clenched because I didn’t want him to just yet. That had been one of the most extraordinary sexual experiences of my life, and I didn’t want it to be over. I wasn’t ready for either of us to speak and break the spell. The look in Tate’s eyes when I’d told him not to wait… I’d never seen such hunger in a man as he’d loomed over me, desperate for the kind of release only sex could bring.
And then he said the very last two words I expected.
“I’m sorry.”
Shocked, I lifted his chin until his gaze met mine. “Sorry for what?”
“For that,” he said, almost spitting the words. He circled the base of the condom with his finger and thumb and pulled out of me. Turning his back, he zipped himself up. He walked over to my kitchen, dumped the condom in the waste bin, then stared out into the darkness at London’s skyline, his hands braced against the worktop on either side of the sink.
I scrambled to my feet and tottered over on my ridiculously high heels. The idea had been to make myself irresistible. Clearly, I’d succeeded in my objective. Placing a hand on Tate’s back, I rubbed him in circles.
“That,” I said, “was fucking incredible.”
Not being the kind of girl to swear very much, I chose that word specifically for impact, punch. It had the desired effect, forcing Tate to turn around. His expression seemed distraught, and he wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“I should have put you first. Hell, I didn’t even make you come. I don’t know what came over me, but when I saw you standing there, dressed like a goddess from my dreams, I…” He shook his head. “I lost control, Madison. Completely. That’s never happened to me before.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and, still, he avoided my gaze, his eyes ever so slightly off-center. I gripped his chin, his two-day-old stubble scratching against my fingertips.
“Look at me,” I demanded.
His eyes cut to mine then, and I didn’t like what I saw. Guilt, self-loathing, a tinge of panic.
“I’ll repeat again, because you clearly didn’t hear me before. That. Was. Amazing. Like off-the-charts hot. If that’s what wearing a get-up like this does, I need to buy a whole bunch of spares.”
A flicker of understanding crossed his face. He palmed the back of his neck. “Really?”
I grinned. “Would I lie to you?”
His lips formed the beginnings of a smile, and his eyes brightened. “No, I don’t believe you would.”
“There you are then.” I crossed the room and picked up the bag he’d brought with him. I peered inside, spying a bottle of champagne. Great brand. I handed it to Tate. “Glasses are in the top cupboard to the left of the window.”
His trademark confidence firmly back in place, Tate uncorked the champagne and poured it into two flutes. The bubbles almost spilled over, and I bent my head and slurped. Not very ladylike, but I believed wasting good champers to be absolute sacrilege.
I unpacked the rest of the bag, unable to take the smile off my face as I set out each item. Strawberries, maple syrup, grated chocolate—I raised my eyebrows—caviar, oysters, and a couple of packs of sushi.
“Could get messy,” I said, my voice quivering with excitement.
Tate opened the box of strawberries. I noticed they’d already been destalked. He picked one up and touched it to my lips.
“Open wide,” he said.
My stomach flipped, and a deep ache settled between my legs. I obeyed him, and he slipped the strawberry into my mouth. I closed my eyes and chewed, the natural sweetness of the fruit marrying beautifully with the sharpness of the champagne. I licked my lips and swallowed.
“Delicious,” I said.
He fed me again, and again. With each bite, each chew, each swallow, my insides wound tighter and tighter. When the anticipated explosion came, it would be epic.
“Wait there,” Tate said. He picked up the chocolate, strawberries, and the maple syrup and, leaving me alone in the kitchen, he disappeared into my bedroom. He returned a few seconds later, his hand outstretched toward me.
“Let me make it up to you, Madison. I want to spend the night worshipping every single inch of your body.”
Well, I wasn’t going to say no to that.
Tate had laid out the food on my bedside table. He dimmed the lights and dragged the quilt to the floor, probably to limit the cleanup later. I giggled. I couldn’t help it. This was… wild, and fun, and sexy as hell.
He crooked his finger, beckoning me closer. I did as he asked, until we were standing inches apart. In these heels, our eyes were almost level. He grazed his knuckles over my cheek, then drew his fingertip down my neck, across my collarbone, finally coming to rest between my breasts. I held the air deep in my lungs for a couple of seconds, anticipating his kiss, but it didn’t come. Instead, he stood there, looking at me as if I was some sort of angel, his gaze filled with reverence.
“I missed you these last few days.”
My heart thumped against my ribcage, increasing in speed the longer Tate dragged out the anticipation. He turned away and picked up the maple syrup. He unscrewed the top and held it at an angle.
“I’m going to ruin this,” he said, referring to my negligee. “But don’t worry. I’ll have an entire truck full delivered tomorrow.”
My breath hitched. I followed the trajectory of the bottle as Tate tipped it up. Dark amber liquid squirted onto the swell of my breasts, then drizzled between my cleavage. Bending his head, he lapped up the syrup, an appreciative groan easing from his throat. I wasn’t sure whether that was meant for me, or the syrup, but either way, a rush of wetness pooled between my legs. I clenched my thighs together, desperate for something, anything to alleviate the ache, although in truth, only Tate’s cock could do that.
Gridlock: Full Velocity Series - Book 2 Page 12
