The Wingman

by Cathryn Fox

  “But the bar—”

  “Once you’re relaxed, I can carry you to your bed and put my mouth between your legs.”

  She exhales and her eyes briefly slide shut like that’s the best idea she’s heard all day. “But don’t you want—”

  I drop to my knees in front of her, grip her chair and tug until her legs are wrapped around my waist. “What I want is my mouth on you. Last night.” I grip my hair and tug. “Fuck, man, last night on Skype…”

  “It was fun,” she whispers. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

  I touch the hem of her scrubs. “Maybe deep inside, you really are a thrill-seeker.”

  “Maybe you bring that out in me.”

  “Why’s that, Jules?”

  Her brown eyes darken. “We’re friends. I trust you.”

  My heart speeds up. Goddammit, I don’t take that trust lightly. It took me years to trust and her guard is high because someone hurt her—someone other than her ex.

  I lean in, lightly brush my mouth over hers. “Staying in?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I chuckle.

  “Rider.”

  “Mmm…”

  “Thanks for all this.”

  I stand and my head wobbles a little. Shit. I blink and grasp the tables edge to balance myself.

  Jules is instantly on her feet. “Are you okay?” she asks.

  I pull myself together. “I’m good.”

  Her eyes narrow, examine mine. “Rider—”

  I shake it off and make light of the situation. “Nurses.”

  “Hockey players,” she counters and we both laugh, but the worry is still there in her eyes. I can’t have her worrying about me. I turn from her, and take the casserole from the oven. The scent fills the air.

  “We can’t have you getting another concussion,” she says. “Hockey is your everything.”

  There is a strange lilt in her voice. And I can’t quite tell if she’s asking a question, or making a statement.

  “It’s my everything,” I say.

  “And you think you’re nothing without it.”

  There’s that wavering lilt again. “That’s right.”

  “Rider, I—”

  Shit, I don’t want to do this tonight. I’ve told her enough about my childhood as it is. “Have a seat, Jules. Dinner is ready,” I say, effectively changing the direction of the conversation. But her words are a reminder that what’s between us is just sex. Yeah sure, I’m cooking for her, but that’s so I can get my mouth on her later, right?

  Yeah, right.

  I fill two plates and set them on the table, and then pour white wine into two glasses. Her smile is appreciative as she glances back at me.

  “I’m not used to this,” she says as she takes a sip of wine. She moans her approval and my dick twitches at the sexy sound. “I’m usually the one taking care of others.”

  “Yeah well, how about tonight is all about me stripping you bare and taking care of you,” I say, putting the focus back on sex and trying to forget how much this woman is crawling under my skin without even trying.

  Her sweet smile fucks me over. “I like that idea,” she says seductively.

  “Okay, eat so we can get this show on the road.” I give her a playful wink and she grins as she forks a scallop into her mouth. The resulting moan wraps around my cock and squeezes. Motherfucker.

  “Rider, oh my God, this is so good.”

  My chest swells. I love putting a smile on this girl’s face. “Glad you like it.”

  She takes a few more bites and sips on her wine as I shovel my food into my mouth. She sits back and laughs.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  She gestures to my near empty plate. “You must be starving.”

  “I am,” I say, my gaze dropping to her mouth. Her lips part in invitation and I let go of my fork. It clatters onto my plate.

  She grins, clearly knowing the dirty direction of my thoughts and gives her plate a little nudge.

  “I think I’m done.”

  “Done?” I stand so fast my chair nearly topples. “Oh no, baby. We’re just getting started.”

  10

  Jules

  Before I can respond, Rider is right there, lifting me from my seat. He brushes his knuckles over my cheek, his touch soft, tender, and it does strange things to me. My heart pounds a little harder, and my legs threaten to give.

  He scoops me up and carries me upstairs. I can only assume he wants to fulfil the fantasy I laid out last night—me in a short skirt, no panties, bending over the bed. But he surprises me when he takes me to the bathroom, sets me on the sink, and drops to the floor in front of my tub.

  I pull my hair from my ponytail and let it fall over my shoulders. “What are you doing?”

  “Running you a bath.”

  The walls around my heart fracture, despite my best efforts to keep them strong. “Oh, you were serious about that?” I ask, working to keep my voice steady as his actions warm me from the inside out.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I just thought…” I turn my head, glance toward the open door. “What we talked about on Skype. You don’t want that?”

  His low groan reverberates through me. “Fuck yeah, I want that.” I laugh and it eases some of the tension inside me. “But you just worked a long shift.” He shrugs. “Besides, we’ve got the whole night ahead of us, babe, and there are so many things I want to do to you, but first, you need some relaxation time.”

  God, could this man be any sweeter?

  He grabs the vanilla bubble bath and squeezes a generous amount into the water. “Wait here,” he says and his footsteps pound on the stairs. He comes back with a glass of wine for me. Okay, he really needs to stop all these sweet gestures, otherwise I’m going to end up falling for him, and that’s a really bad idea. Not only am I scared to open my heart to love—I’ve seen, and experienced so much damn loss—he’s made it perfectly clear that he’s a bachelor for life. Is this what Lindsay was warning me about, that he’s a nice guy, and I might end up getting my heart broken—again?

  I struggle to harden myself, an impossible task when he peels my shirt over my head. His gaze is warm and soft as he takes me in. The hairs on my nape tingle under his appreciative gaze.

  “You want to talk about your day?” he asks, like we really are an old married couple who share everything at the end of the night.

  “No,” I say, even though it would be nice to vent. “How was your day?”

  “I might as well confess,” he says.

  I stiffen a bit. “What?”

  “Well, eventually Peaches would have told you so I feel like I should come clean.” His cute dimple catches my eye as he lifts me from the sink, and drops to his knees to peel my pants off. My panties follow.

  My muscles tighten. “What did you do?” I ask.

  “I snooped,” he says and I relax a little. He puts his hand on the small of my back, and leads me to the tub. The hot water feels glorious against my tired body. I lean back, and take a deep calming breath.

  “Find anything interesting?” I ask.

  He makes a face like he’d just eaten a sour lemon. “In the medicine cabinet, there’s this strange ointment—”

  I splash water up at him. “There is not,” I say and laugh.

  “Hey, you got me all wet.”

  “Now we’re both wet,” I say, and the mood shifts, the air in the room becomes a little thicker, heavier. Lust swirls around us and I shift forward. “There’s plenty of space for two.”

  “You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

  “Maybe I’ll relax more with you in here.”

  “Well you don’t have to ask me twice.” I laugh as he stands and makes fast work of his clothes. His gorgeous cock is thick as he sheds his pants. The water splashes as he slides in behind me, and tugs my shoulder until my head is on his chest.

  “Much better,” I say, as he scoops up bubbles and spills them over my sh
oulders, breasts and stomach. Our relationship might be about sex, but this, whatever it is we’re doing here, I have never in my life felt so cherished and safe. It’s crazy how comfortable I am with him, how much I missed his touch when he was away. Truthfully, I’ve missed his presence. In such a short time, he’s become a huge part of my life.

  “What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” he asks.

  “What you found when you went snooping,” I say.

  His chuckle rumbles against my back, and his fingers slide down my arms. “I love all the old furniture you restore. You have many talents.”

  I bask in the compliment. “Thanks. I find it relaxing.”

  “It’s good to have a hobby. When did you start?”

  I think back for a moment. “I was out with my mom, going from garage sale to garage sale. One lady was packing up for the day. She had this gorgeous old rocking chair she was going to toss if it didn’t sell.” I shake my head, my chest welling up with the memories. “There was just something in me that nearly cried at that thought. Her grandfather had built the chair, and my mind instantly flashed to him sitting in it, telling stories to his kids and grandkids.” His hands curl around my stomach, and link together. “It’s strange, I know.”

  “Not strange at all.” The rough pad of his thumb sweeps back and forth over my belly, pushing water away like it’s a windshield wiper. “In your eyes, it’s like the pieces have a life of their own, and you couldn’t stand to see that life destroyed.”

  I sit up a little, and turn to see him. His eyes narrow as they latch onto mine. “I think that’s it exactly. I’ve never quite been able to put it into words before.”

  “I’m smarter than I look,” he teases.

  “Here I thought you were just all brawn and no brains.”

  “You think I’m all brawn?” he asks playfully.

  “That ego of yours.”

  “One I can back up.”

  “Yes, one you can back up,” I say and laugh, but it turns into a yawn. I sink back into the water and lay against his chest. I turn my head, wanting to feel his heart against my cheek. My lids close, and in my sleepy state, his voice sounds like it’s coming from a distance.

  “You have this innate need to save things, all things. I can’t even tell you how much I admire that about you.”

  My mind swirls, the darkest demons fighting for floor space as slumber pulls at me, compliments of the meal, the wine, the warm bath…the nurturing man caring for me.

  “I couldn’t save him,” I mumble quietly.

  Rider’s muscles go taut and that’s when I realize what I’ve said. Adrenaline pumps through me, and I jackknife upright. Water sloshes over the side of the tub. Dammit, I didn’t mean to dredge up the past, to bring painful memories to the surface. Not now, not with Rider. Yeah, we’re friends, but I can’t go there, and he doesn’t want to know about my past hurts.

  I turn to him, and smile. “So, what was this about us just getting started?”

  He stares at me long and hard, his eyes boring into me, and I try not to fidget. “Jules?”

  “Yeah,” I say, and push myself to my feet to stand before him stark naked.

  He scrubs his chin. “Jules, I think—”

  “No thinking, Rider. Just feeling, remember?”

  He goes still for a second, then his eyes clear and he gives a quick nod. “I remember.”

  He pushes himself up, and my breath catches as water drips from his beautiful, hard body. His cock is still thick, and unable to help myself, I take him into my hand.

  “Fuck, that feels good,” he murmurs, but inches back, moving from my reach.

  “But I want—”

  “You’ll get what you want,” he says and reaches into my cabinet for a big fluffy towel. He wraps me in it, ties another around his waist and carries me to my bedroom. My bed is neatly made, and he reaches for the bedding and tugs it down.

  “Get in,” he commands, his voice soft, but firm. My entire body quivers as I slide between my soft sheets, excited to have the smell of him in my bed come morning. But I don’t want to think about morning, or how I know he’ll sneak away before sunrise. Although it’s for the best. I have my family coming for dinner, and he shouldn’t be here.

  I flatten myself and he crawls onto the bed. His eyes never leave mine as he runs his fingers over my arms.

  “Hands above your head,” he whispers.

  “What?” I frown at him.

  “I want to do things to you.”

  “I…want that too.”

  “Then hands above your head.” He gestures with a nod to the headboard. “Hold the slats and don’t move them.”

  “Rider—”

  “Yes.” His eyes are dark and serious but also brimming with need…for me.

  “What are you…doing?”

  “I’m creating a safe place for you. I want your hands up and your eyes closed. Like you said, this isn’t about thinking.” He slants his head. “You trust me to take care of you?”

  “I do,” I say, “But I want to touch you too.”

  A warm smile curls up his lips. He likes the idea of me touching him too. “You will, but right now, this is all about you.”

  My throat squeezes tight, and Lindsay’s warning bursts to the forefront of my brain. Am I giving too much of myself here? Will this end in emotional suicide for me? Rider must sense the change in me.

  “Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “I want to, do it all,” I say quickly, to reassure him, even though I’m not certain it’s a good idea myself.

  “Are you scared?”

  “Giving up all control is difficult for me.”

  Stop being a chickenshit, Jules.

  “With great risk comes great reward,” he murmurs.

  “Quoting Thomas Jefferson, now are you?”

  His soft laugh falls over me, the warmth of his breath raising the hairs on my arms. “Actually, I’m quoting Coach.”

  I chuckle slightly, and it turns to a soft moan when his hands brush my hair from my face, his thumb tracing my nose and mouth.

  “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs. “Now trust me and close your eyes. I promise to take good care of you.”

  I pinch my eyes shut tightly, even though I’d love to open them, see the heat in his eyes as he looks at me. But as darkness surrounds me, a little thrill goes through me. I can’t deny there is something exciting about letting myself go and living in the moment. Honestly, being in control all the time, being afraid of everything is exhausting.

  “You’re beautiful too,” I say and his mouth closes over mine. His kiss is soft at first, but when I lift my hips, rub my sex against his raging erection, his tongue finds mine.

  “Keep that up, and I’ll ruin you,” he says and shifts his body. He slides a hand between my legs, and slides a thick finger into me.

  “Yesss,” I hiss and rock against his finger. His palm presses against my clit, and a keening cry escapes my throat. He swallows it with his kisses, and moves his mouth to my ear.

  “I wasn’t kidding last night. I want you so fucking much, I’m going to make a mess of your sweet cunt.” I’m so turned on, my muscles quiver, my climax building. “Oh, yeah, you like that idea, do you?”

  Since his finger is inside me, feeling my body’s reaction, there is no hiding my arousal.

  “Please, make a mess of me,” I say, and ignore those knowing little bells jangling in the back of my brain—this man could very well ruin me in so many ways.

  “You want my fat cock in you, baby?”

  “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since you’ve been gone,” I admit, and he goes lower on the bed, takes my clit into his mouth. “Oh, that’s it,” I cry out.

  He nibbles on me. “I nearly lost my mind watching you touch yourself last night.”

  “You liked that?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d do it again,” I tease, “But I was ordered to keep my han
ds above my head.”

  “That’s right, I’m in charge of your body and your orgasms tonight, babe. You don’t have to do a goddamn thing but lay back and enjoy.”

  “Rider,” I say as I exhale. “But I—”

  “Shh,” he says, quieting my protest. I want to get my hands and mouth on him, but following his rules, and letting him take charge comes with its own excitement. After always being the one responsible, taking care of everyone else, I could get used to this kind of treatment.

  Careful, Jules.

  All good things come to an end.

  I let my head fall back and his mouth finds my nipples. His tongue swirls over my aching buds, and he bites down, only to lick them to ease the sting left behind. Sensations shoot through me, settle between my legs, and I whimper.

  “That’s it. Make noise for me. Show me how much you like this,” he says.

  I turn my head from side to side as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses to my stomach, going lower until he finds my sex.

  “Has your pretty little cunt been missing me?”

  “So much,” I say, and move my hips.

  He chuckles. “Need something, Jules?”

  “Your mouth, please,” I say, and shock myself. This man definitely brings out another side to me.

  “That’s a girl. Don’t ever hold back with me. Anything you want, I’ll give you.”

  My heart lurches.

  Don’t go there, Jules. Don’t think about what you might want. You can’t take that pain of loss.

  He slides a second finger into my body, circles my engorged clit with his tongue, and whispers dirty words. The trifecta pushes me over the edge and I give into the pleasure pulling at me.

  “Oh, Rider,” I cry out, and buck against his face, a shameless move that I’m not one bit ashamed of.

  “Yeah, come all over my mouth, babe.”

  I come and come and come some more, until my lethargic body is nothing but a limp doll on the bed. I try to move my arms, to pull him to me, but I can’t seem to make them work.

  “Rider,” I say. “I want to touch you.”

  “Keep your eyes closed. Relax, okay. I’ll be right back.”

  I close my eyes, and sleep pulls at me in my post-orgasmic state. But I can’t go to sleep. I want to take care of Rider. I want to feel him inside me. The sound of water rushing in the bathroom reaches my ears, and his footsteps are soon back on my bedroom floor.