Then There Was You: New York Times Best Selling Author

by Claire Contreras

  “Hey, we both got friendliest in the superlatives, didn’t we?”

  “We did.”

  “And most good-looking.”

  I felt myself smile wider. “We did.”

  “And king and queen.”

  “Yep.”

  “And most driven.”

  My cheeks hurt from smiling. “Where are you getting at with this?”

  “Maybe our fellow classmates were on to something.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning maybe we’re perfect for each other. Always were.”

  My smile dropped shakily. I thought the point was not to get attached. Why was he bringing this up? “Do you believe that?”

  “I do.”

  “So why did we have a conversation about being careful and all that jazz?”

  “Because you’re leaving and a relationship would be impossible to maintain.”

  I swallowed. “Where does Camryn fit into all of this?”

  “Why do you keep bringing her up?” His brows pulled together as if he were trying to figure out a confusing equation.

  “Because just the other day, she walked out of your office with lipstick smeared all over her face.” He exhaled heavily, dragging his hand through his hair again. I waited. When he didn’t respond, I continued, “I know you think she and I have some sort of competition for your affection, but I want no part of it. I’m not a teenager anymore. I know my worth and—”

  “Tessa.” His tone and the way he leaned in made me shut my mouth. “When it comes to you, there’s never any competition. You blow everyone else out of the water.”

  “So why do I feel like I’m always in last place with you? Like I’m always left wading in the water while everyone else has a place on your blue canoe?”

  His brows rose in surprise. “You really feel that way?”

  “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

  He gave a humorless laugh and shook his head. “And here I was thinking I was chasing after you all along.”

  “Look.” I set my glass down again. “I agree with you on this—I’m leaving in a few days. I don’t want a relationship. I’m not looking to settle down with you and start a family. Not that you’d want that anyway.” I shot him a look. He simply stared. Waiting. “I just don’t want to feel like the other woman in this. I don’t want to do more with you and feel like you’re cheating on her with me, and saying you and I are perfect for each other . . . well, that’s just confusing.”

  “You would never be the other woman,” he said. “You don’t believe in love, you don’t want to get married, you just want to hook up. I don’t believe in love, marriage, and I just want to hook up. That equation equals perfect. As far as Camryn goes, did she try to hook up with me the other day? Yes. Did she kiss me in my office? Yes. Did I entertain it? Fuck no. Why would I do that knowing you would be there?”

  “Because you saw me kiss your brother and you wanted payback.”

  He flushed and looked away. I rolled my eyes. Typical Rowan. He did want payback, whether he planned it or not. “You’re so childish sometimes.”

  “I’ll own that accusation.” He looked into my eyes again before reaching over and caressing the top of my left hand. My heart wiggled. “I’m a jealous bastard when it comes to you. You know that.”

  My heart dipped. When he talked about shooing guys away, he’d said he was a selfish bastard, not a jealous one. “I wasn’t aware you were capable of feeling jealous.”

  He shot me a look. I smiled. We asked for the bill and walked hand in hand back to the hotel. As we went up the elevator, I felt like I might just die right there. There was absolutely no coy way of starting this. It surprised me that I even felt this worked up about it, being that we’d been to this rodeo. Sure, this time it would be more. But there was no other reason for two people this sexually attracted to each other to share a bed. I felt his breath on my neck as I shakily unlocked the door, his lips on the slope of my shoulder, where he dropped an openmouthed kiss. My eyes slammed shut, my heart pitter-pattered with raw excitement and need.

  I pushed the door open and stepped inside, he shut it behind us and turned me around, pinning me against it as his lips came down onto mine. His mouth was a jolt of excitement, but the kiss was softer than I expected. His lips moved with the sensuality of a lost lover, the feel of his tongue stroking mine in a soft caress, his fingers threading into the hair at the nape of my neck, tilting my face, seeking more. I dropped my key, my purse, and wrapped my arms around his neck, molding against him, needing to erase the inches of space between us. When he broke the kiss, just as slowly as he had started it, our lips took their time parting ways.

  “You’re sure about this,” he said.

  “Positive.”

  “If you ever want to stop—”

  I pulled him into another kiss. He nibbled on my bottom lip, I returned the favor, and when our faces were inches from each other’s again, I looked into his dark, lust-filled gaze and felt my stomach sinking farther to its knees.

  “I want you on our bed,” he breathed. Our bed.

  I took his hand and led him to the room. When I turned around to face him, my breath caught at the wolfish, sensual smile on his face. His gaze lingered over me, traveling down my body in a slow caress that burned every inch it explored.

  “Do something,” I whispered.

  “I fully intend to.” He lifted his gaze to meet mine as he closed the distance between us and dipped his face. His mouth touched my forehead as he brought his hands behind me and unzipped my dress. I shrug my arms out of it and let him tug it past my hips so that it fell and pooled at my feet. “You look stunning tonight, by the way,” he said, the husk in his voice making the butterflies in my stomach summersault.

  He caught my gratitude in his mouth as his lips came down on mine. With deft fingers, he unhooked my bra and pulled it away from me as I stepped out of the dress and walked with him toward the bed, lowering my hands to the buttons of his shirt and undoing one with each step, my eyes on the task as he watched me. When I pulled his shirt open and reveal his taut, muscular, tan stomach, I paused for a beat and then leaned in and placed a kiss on the center of his chest, licked the perfectly dented line between his pecks. He sucked in a sharp breath as I licked my way down, his hands coming up to either one of my shoulders. For a moment, I thought he was going to pull me up again, but he left his hands there as I made my way to the elastic of his boxers.

  My name was a broken whisper from his lips. I glanced up through my lashes and caught his lustful stare as I pulled down his boxers. He kicked away his clothes, threw his shirt to the floor, and put his hands on my head. I pressed kisses up and down his shaft, ran my tongue over it, and added my hand into the mix. His breathing became labored, his fingers tightened in my hair. I opened my mouth and swirled my tongue around the tip, loving the way he pulsed and got harder. I stroked him and sucked in a synchronized motion, slowly at first, then faster, then slowing down again. He groaned and groaned and pulled my hair, panting my name.

  “My turn,” he grit out on a restrained breath.

  I shook my head, sucking again. He tightened his fingers even more, pulling me away so that his cock was no longer within my mouth’s reach. With his hand on my neck, he slowly pulled me up to stand and leaned down to capture my mouth with his, his tongue diving in with force, swirling around mine and amplifying my arousal. My fingers dug into his biceps. He pushed me away and settled into the center of the bed, his hard, veined cock springing up between his muscled legs and perfect six-pack. He was perfection. I settle between his legs, which were hanging from the bed, and began to climb over him, stopping just before our centers met. He shook his head, eyes hot on mine.

  “Come sit on my face.”

  I felt his words in my core and hesitated, unsure if I could even last long enough to do that, but his fingers dug into my thighs and pulled me up, positioning me the way he wanted. He teased me only for a moment, slowly licking my clit before he
started to suck, holding me perfectly in the center of his mouth so that I didn’t stand a chance. I shattered, and shattered . . . and shattered, as he alternated between sucking my clit and laving his tongue over me. He turned us over in a whoosh so that my back was pressed against the bed and he was on top of me, caging me as if I’d think to go anywhere. He brought his pelvis down, his cock rubbing against me as I whimpered, shook, completely wrung out but still spiraling with a need so great that my entire nervous system seemed to tremble with it.

  “I need you to—”

  “I know what you need,” he said gravelly. I opened my eyes and met his, my heart pitter-pattering. How many times had I envisioned this moment? So many that it felt as if I’d summoned it to life, with him looking at me through hazy eyes, clouded with lust and something else, something that both terrified and excited me because I’d never seen him look at anyone else that way. He braced himself on either side of me and shifted so that his tip touched my folds. He thrust, and I gasped, arching, bracing myself, but he didn’t push in. I frowned, looking up at him, realizing that I was completely panting.

  “You need to calm down, sweetheart,” he said in the sweetest voice, and I felt myself melt a little. Some of the pressure lifted from my shoulders as I breathed out and gave a little nod.

  “Okay. I’m ready.”

  He watched me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “You said you’ve done this before.”

  “Of course I have.” I scoffed. “I’m twenty-four.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly, he moved again, pulling out completely and rubbing his pulsing cock over my clit. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, but holy moly my body was on fire.

  “Tessa,” he said. “Did you fuck that guy in college?”

  “I did.” I really did. I wasn’t lying about that. It just may have been the one and only time I fucked anyone in college, though. His eyes searched mine rapidly.

  He let out a slow breath that was followed by a string of curses as he rested his forehead on mine. “Was he the only time?”

  “I’ve fooled around plenty of times,” I said, offended. Just because I didn’t have his experience didn’t mean I didn’t know what I was doing. I watched plenty of porn.

  “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, baby,” he whispered. “I just want to know how slow to take it.”

  “Just please, please, please, please, please fuck me.”

  That seemed to break through his uncertainty. He pushed himself inside me ever-so-slowly, torturously slowly, stretching me.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded, eyes wide, afraid to speak. He leaned down a bit and kept going, pushing deep and hard once until he was completely inside me.

  “Fucking heaven, Tessa,” he muttered against my neck. “You feel like fucking heaven.”

  I arched my back, wrapped my legs around his waist, and pushed against him. He cursed again. “If you keep doing that, I won’t last. Swear to God, I won’t.” His words were choppy pants as he continued to thrust into me, slowly at first, so slowly I felt the burn spread through my veins and simmer as my eyes rolled back. Then, he picked up the movement and began to move faster, harder, his hand closing around my throat as he ground into me. For a moment, I feared I’d pass out from it—the hand, the way he was fucking me as if he never wanted to come up for air, the way his eyes stayed steady on mine as if he didn’t care whether he did or not.

  “Do you know how many time I pictured this?” he asked. “How many times I envisioned tearing off your clothes and fucking you like this?”

  I moaned, feeling a spike of adrenaline shoot through my veins. My eyes rolled back. “Please don’t stop.”

  “Never stopping.” His fingers found my clit as he continued his thrusts. He was playing my body, and I sank into the rhythm of his hips, the strum of his fingers, the cadence of his words, and when I felt the build of my orgasm, the one I thought I wouldn’t reach again after the one he gave me with his mouth, I reached for him, but he grabbed my wrists in one hand and held them over my head. My gaze dropped to the way the muscles in his abdomen contracted with each movement. When I looked back up, I focused on the clench of his jaw and the dark haze of lust in his eyes. He anchored me with that gaze, with his hand over my wrists, with every single motion of his ruthless fucking. He moaned, murmured something I couldn’t quite capture as he moved a hand underneath my ass and, without pulling out, shifted so that he was sitting and I was straddling him. It was supposed to be a position that shifted the balance, the power, except Rowan still held it all. He held me as he fucked me from beneath. He held my gaze as he moved me up and down on his slippery, thick cock. He went in deeper this way, deeper in a way that stole my breath, my words . . . my thoughts.

  “Tessa,” he said over and over and over like a mantra. “My Tessa.”

  I’d never forget that. Not the way he said my name and not the way he looked at me as he said it. My heart felt like it was on the brink of exploding, and that was when I shattered around him, with his name spilling from my lips. He groaned mine out as he spilled himself inside me, pushing in with one final, hard motion, as to ensure I would never stop feeling him there. As our breaths recovered, he loosened his hold on me, and I untangled my legs from his waist. He blinked, looking at me with clear eyes, and brought his lips down to mine and kissed me again, softly, taking his time, saying things neither one of us would ever say aloud. And then we slept.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Why couldn’t we have done this before? That was the first thought in my mind when I awoke with Rowan’s fingers between my legs, stroking up and down my folds, flicking and circling over my sensitive clit. I moaned, blinking up at him. He was still looking at me with the same wondrous look as last night, the one that made my heart gallop. He slid first one and then two fingers into the well of my body, his eyes on mine as he worked them in and out. Expertly, he pulled sensations out of me until, silently, I climaxed because I couldn’t seem to find my voice when he looked at me like that. He put his forehead on mine and breathed out before rolling over and getting out of bed. It was then that I realized he’d already showered and was halfway dressed. I cleared my throat.

  “What time did you wake up?”

  “I’m not sure I ever went to sleep.” He pulled his shirt shut and worked on the buttons as he turned to face me.

  “What do you mean?” I let my eyes drift over his body and sighed, making myself get out of bed.

  He simply shrugged, turned away from me, and continued getting dressed. I headed to the bathroom. I showered and dressed quickly, taking a cue from him and wearing a black knee-length skirt, a button down, and heels. Comfortable heels. I threw a pair of flats in my bag just in case. I doubted Rowan intended to drive the car around the city, and if we were going to be on and off subways all day, I wouldn’t want to be in heels. We ended up grabbing breakfast at a little deli on the corner. I tried not to focus on the way neither one of us seemed to know what to say, but it was impossible not to with the awkward silence climbing with each second that ticked by. Finally, deciding enough was enough, I put my cup of coffee on the table, lowered the newspaper he was covering his face with, and made him look at me.

  “What is happening?”

  “With what?” He eyed me, the newspaper, and me again.

  “Well, I’m certainly not talking about the news.”

  He folded the paper carefully and set it aside. “I’m compartmentalizing.”

  “Well, then.” My brows rose. I hadn’t exactly expected him to be that straightforward. “Compartmentalizing because you don’t want to feel the emotion you’re feeling?”

  He nodded once in confirmation, and my heart skyrocketed. A smile formed on my face, and I started to laugh even though none of this was funny. It was crazy and sad and definitely not humorous. His lips twitched as he watched me laugh at his expense. I just couldn’t understand it. Maybe I didn’t believe in love the way my sister did, not anymore anyway, after my parent’s
divorce, but I believed in something, and that something was close enough to love. It was what I’d always felt for Rowan, and for him to also possibly feel it but want to compartmentalize it instead of admit it was just . . . ugh. Frustrating. Once I gathered my wits, I took a breath and tried again.

  “What do you normally do after you have sex with a woman?”

  “Depends,” he said. “I dated a couple of girls in college, but nothing serious, nothing that lasted very long. You know how I am.” Shrug. “There was this one girl, she was on the track team. We went out a few times, had sex, and it kind of fizzled out.”

  “After a few times?” I knew my mouth was hanging open, but I couldn’t help it. There was no way in hell I’d get tired of him in just a few times. “Did you get bored or did she?”

  “I think we both did.”

  Impossible.

  “What about you? Who was the guy?” he asked.

  “Just some guy. We were at a party, and one thing led to another and we did it.” I shrugged. Rowan’s lips twisted as he looked at me as if he were trying to read more into my thoughts. I laughed a little. “I’m serious. There’s really nothing much to tell. We had sex, I left, he went his own way, and that was that.”

  “Were you drunk?”

  I pulled a face. “No.”

  “Was he?”

  “No.”

  “Hm.”

  I took a deep breath and exhaled. “What?”

  “What, what?” He shrugged nonchalantly, and I glared.

  “Don’t nonchalantly shrug at me,” I said. “You’re judging me.”

  “I am not judging you. Trust me. I’m not. I just wouldn’t think you’d go and fuck the first guy who offered.”

  I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “You are judging, and he wasn’t the first guy who offered. He was in my English class and I liked him. Seeing him at the party was just different. It was one of those moments you have when you’re a kid and you see a teacher outside of school like they aren’t allowed to have regular lives or something.”