She kicked the door closed, stepped out of her heels, and watched him set his shoes next to them. The two pairs looked so right together, next to her entryway. She shook the random thought aside.
He stepped behind her, pressing close, and gripped her hips. His breath caressed her cheek, taunting in its tenderness, when he said, “Go kneel on the edge of your bed, back to the door.”
The show she’d put on earlier—stripping, dancing with Ginny, showing off for his private audience—heightened her arousal. Combined with Damon’s slow build-up and promise without delivery, it sent her thoughts into a muddled spin. But drawing the moment out was as much a part of his gift as anything, and she knew the results would be worth it.
She heard him follow, his stockinged feet brushing the carpet, but he kept enough distance that she couldn’t feel him. She did as she was told and knelt on the edge of the bed, ass resting on her heels, as she looked straight ahead at the wall.
“How many years has it been, since we broke up?” His voice was right next to her ear, closer than she expected. The calm words squeezed her already hammering heart.
“I don’t know.”
“You do.” This wasn’t like the other night. There was no teasing. No playful tone. Simply his low, balanced voice.
He knew as well as she did; she was certain. They’d both been twenty-two. The entire thing was burned in her memory, like most of their relationship. “Fourteen years.”
“Fourteen. Sounds like a good number to me.”
She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. Wondering what he had in mind stole her reason and set her thoughts adrift. A familiar sound clinked behind her. A belt unbuckling. Her mind sharpened, honing in.
He pressed a palm to her back and pushed her forward. She caught herself on her wrists, and the new position left her rear in the air. Rough hands shoved her skirt over her hips. She whimpered at the friction and sudden exposure.
“You’re not wearing anything under your skirt.” His even tone was gone, replaced with the throaty voice that sent excited chills through her. “I know you were wearing panties before you stripped.”
“I didn’t want to put them back on. I like the cool air on my bare skin.” She wiggled her ass to emphasize her point.
The first lash from the belt struck one cheek, and she whimpered at the shock of pain and adrenaline that sped through her.
“Count to fourteen. Take your time. That was one.”
God, she’d missed this. “Two.” She spoke clearly and was rewarded with the sharp sting of leather, marking her flesh. She sucked in a deep breath. “Three.” Another lash. The vibration made her already wet pussy lips slide together. “Four.” Crack. Her nipples pressed into her bra, begging for attention, and her clit sent daggers of want spiking through her. By the time they reached fourteen, her head spun. Her behind was numb in places, and euphoria sparkled through her vision, clouding it with stars.
Unlike the other night, when teasing added to the buildup, tonight Damon stayed mostly quiet. She barely had time to catch her breath, when she heard his zipper slide down. He grabbed her hips, and that was the only warning she had, before he pushed inside her, driving his cock in to the hilt. His rhythm was slow and steady, as he pulled almost all the way out, and then plunged back in again. He shoved a hand under her shirt and dragged the elastic of her bra over her nipples. The new rough touch jolted her senses alive again, and she ground back into him. When she tried to increase the pace, he spanked her.
“Not yet.” His voice was jagged and raw. He kneaded her breast and scraped a thumb over the tender skin, pinching and rolling in time to his thrusts.
“Please, baby.” For her, the anticipation had been mounting since she stepped into the private room at the strip club. She had a feeling it was the same for him.
He jerked her upright, pressing her back to his chest and thrusting at a maddeningly steady pace. Each pinch and squeeze and push deeper buzzed along her skin. It was all culminating, but it wouldn’t push her over the edge.
He covered her hand with his free one, and moved her palm to her stomach. He nipped at her shoulder and then bit harder. “Not yet.”
She whimpered and squirmed under the multiple stimuli. Her thoughts were fuzzed, and the room danced around her. She struggled to find her voice. “Please let me come. Dancing with that girl tonight... It only turned me on because you were watching. I knew I was going home with you. No one else fucks me the way you do.”
He guided her hand lower, until it brushed her slit. He worked her fingers on both sides of her clit, held her hand in place, and applied pressure. When they stroked her swollen bud, orgasm ripped through her. She screamed his name when she came, bucking against his cock, trying to get closer to each touch and jerk away from it at the same time. He slammed against her harder, driving deep, striking inside, while his hips collided with her tender ass.
One climax blended into the next, and she lost track of her world. His familiar grunts reached her ears, and still the intense rhythm continued. He came hard, spilling inside her, and finally slowed and eased off.
He kissed the edge of her ear, his breath ragged. “And no one says my name the way you do.”
She smiled and leaned back into him, letting him hold her upright.
He slipped out of her and made himself comfortable on the bed. She joined him and curled up by his side. Her ass would be tender and red, when the natural high wore off, and depending on how distinct the marks were, she might not be able to wear skirts at work for a few days. She didn’t care.
Neither of them spoke, and that was fine with her. They’d want to take their clothes off before they fell asleep, but that could wait. What she needed most right now was to know he’d be there in the morning, holding her.
DAMON WAS SURPRISED the next morning, when he woke up and Vivian was nestled against him. In college, when there had been a them, she’d only ever lain in bed this long if she was basking in the glow from the night before. “You’re awake,” he said quietly.
“Mm-hmm.”
“How’re you feeling?”
“Sore. Comfortable. Wonderful.”
The lilting calm of her voice made him smile. He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll make breakfast, and we’ll talk about why you tracked me down last night.”
She nodded. “Do you have plans this weekend? Or are you flying out today?”
“I’m here until Monday, and I’m spending as much of my time as I can with you.” Something occurred to him. “Except I probably need to grab my rental car, and a change of clothes or two from my hotel.”
“After breakfast.” She pressed back into him, butt grinding into his cock and dragging it the rest of the way to life. “And a shower.”
He cooked, and she made coffee. There was no hesitation in the kitchen, and the familiarity both warmed and bothered Damon. She still kept her cabinets organized the same, and the dance they’d done back then, when they spent the night together, flowed through him as easily as any instinct.
When the dishes were in the dishwasher, she tugged him into the bathroom and turned on the water in the large shower. He eyed the removable massaging shower head, which had several settings. “Do you get a lot of use out of that?”
“Only when I fantasize about you.” She stripped off her clothes and dragged a nail down his chest.
He knew it was an exaggeration, but he liked the flattery too much to call her on it. He shed his clothing as well, and nudged her toward the glass door. “Lucky you, the real thing’s here now.”
She leaned back into him, long enough to say, “Luckier than you know,” before stepping under the hot jets of water.
It scalded his skin at first, but he adjusted quickly. They took turns soaping and cleaning each other, until he pulled her back into him, dipped his fingers between her legs, and fingered her till she came.
She returned the favor by dropping to her knees, and wrapping her full lips around his cock. When he couldn’t tak
e the teasing any more, he spurted against the back of her throat, she swallowed and licked him clean.
They only left the house long enough to grab his stuff, and he picked up Chinese takeout on the way back. He felt like they were in college again, fucking the weekend away, not caring about anything else. It was a lot easier than admitting, when Sunday rolled around, this all had to end. Neither of them mentioned their pending conclusion. That this was only temporary. Not through their John Cusak marathon—including the movies he did when teenage heartthrobs made formulaic eighties comedies. Not through cold leftovers they were too hungry to heat up, after Damon stripped Vivian down and fucked her with her back to the balcony window. And it never once came up when they finally collapsed in bed, sometime around one in the morning, talking about anything and everything under the sun...
Except work and the fact it would separate them again, when reality sank in.
Damon drew his fingers through Vivian’s hair, as she drifted toward sleep. His opinion from Friday afternoon had shifted. He never once thought yesterday was a bad idea, and he no longer wondered if he was addicted to her. There was no question; he was hooked, and it would be a long time before the cravings stopped. If they ever did.
Chapter Fifteen
VIVIAN ROLLED ONTO her side and propped herself up on one elbow, so she could see Damon. She didn’t want to mention that he had to leave today, even though it was at the forefront of her thoughts. Something else gnawed at her though. Right now, with the sun filtering through the blinds and with no rush to be anywhere, it seemed like the safest time to ask. “We keep talking about us then versus now. Do you think what happened when we dated stunted us in some way?”
He brushed aside a strand of hair, tracing his thumb over her cheek as he tucked the stray hair behind her ear. It took him a moment to answer. “You mean a loving, passionate relationship, most people would give their right arm to have a taste of? Not at all.”
She wanted answers, not sarcasm. “I’m serious.”
His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and he ignored it, aside from a single glance. “So am I.” He nudged her back, sat, and pulled her upright as well. “And no, I don’t think dating scarred us. I think the way we broke up did.”
The words stung, and breathed new life and vibrancy into memories of that day. How much it ached. How long it took her to shove the moment aside. How fiercely she swore it would never happen that way again, because she’d never put herself in a situation like that again. And yet, here she was. With the same person. Choosing between the career and surrogate family she’d built, and him. “How would you have preferred it go?”
“You already know that.” His phone rang again, but he never stopped looking at her.
“Enlighten me.”
He dragged his fingers through his hair, gaze on her face. “I would have preferred you tell me what you were thinking, before it became the kind of problem that tore us apart.”
She clenched her jaw and glared back. She wouldn’t act like a child about this, but she couldn’t let it go. “So this is all on me?”
He shook his head. “I’m equally guilty. I knew you were holding back. I also knew you were happy with the decisions you made. It was me who didn’t want to be heading in that direction. I let people tell me I should have been doing something else. I pushed it back on you, and I ignored that none of it felt right, hoping it would become right if we tried hard enough.”
She climbed from the bed and grabbed her robe. Part of her wanted him to pull her back. Tell her they could figure it out. The reality was they couldn’t. She nodded toward the nightstand and his phone. “It sounded pretty important.” Because they had outside lives. Things that couldn’t be put aside because the sex was good. Is that really all this is? No, it was so much more, but it didn’t matter. Silence met her back, but she didn’t dare look to see if he was already reaching for his phone or staring at her. “I’ll make coffee.”
DAMON SWUNG HIS LEGS over the edge of the bed, biting his tongue to keep from telling Vivian to come back. The conversation wasn’t over. Every bit of him knew that. Yet, hashing it out wasn’t going to change anything. Too much time had passed, too many things had changed, and in the next twenty-four hours or so, he’d be on a plane back home. Alone.
He reached for his phone, and snarled at the screen when he saw both missed calls were from Camille. No voice mail. Too bad that didn’t mean he could ignore it. As if acknowledging the call summoned another, the device rang in his hand. He sighed and clicked Answer. “Yeah.”
“Tell me”—a hard edge lined Camille’s tone—“the reason no one’s seen you in the hotel all weekend is because you’re in your room, working on other things. Or you picked up a random girl. Or you drove to Savannah for the weekend, to see the sights. Promise me it’s one of those things.”
Tension clenched the muscles in his neck and sent irritation down his spine. There was no way anyone knew where he was. That would be ridiculous. Regardless of his doubts, his answer came without hesitation. “I’m working.”
“Good.” Despite the word, her tone didn’t shift. “Because I hear a nasty, vicious rumor that this woman you knew ages ago isn’t so much in your past as you claim.”
Fucking Hayden. Damon drew in shallow breaths and tried to keep himself cool, the same way he would in a courtroom. Except it wasn’t often he was on this side of the questions. The best lies frequently resembled truth. “Of course she’s not. She’s a Skriddie executive. We already talked about this.”
“Don’t jerk me around on this, Vicker. Are you fucking Vivian Graff or not?”
“Absolutely not.” The denial tasted bitter, but he never hesitated.
“So these stories about flirting in the breakroom, about taking off from business dinners early together, that Vanya saw the two of you meet for dinner mid-week, that’s all bullshit.”
“Yes. Complete bullshit.” He wouldn’t mince words or protest or bring up fancy excuses. The less he said, the better. Especially since his chest clenched to the point his ribs ached, each time he denied it.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Her tone slid halfway back to normal. “Because I don’t have to tell you, something like that would cost you your job. Hers, if Skriddie doesn’t like it. You could face disbarment, for sleeping with a witness. You already know all that.”
“I do.” But he didn’t like hearing it vocalized. “Is there a point to any of this? You knew Hayden would balk at me being pulled off the case, but this goes beyond childish and unprofessional. I’m going to be real surprised if his name doesn’t show up on our GG Foundation list next.”
“Not smart, Vicker. Don’t bring that stupid foundation up again. Your replacement is touching down in about three hours. Get your ass on a plane by tomorrow morning and swear to me none of this can ever be proven.”
“There’s nothing to prove. I’m booking a ticket the moment I hang up.”
“Thanks.” Sickly thick saccharine dripped from the word. “See you Tuesday.”
He scrubbed his hand over his face and dropped the phone on the bed. Apparently, avoiding the inevitable hadn’t stopped it from happening. Go figure. He focused on thinking about nothing, as he dressed, shouldered his bag, and padded into the kitchen.
Vivian stood with her back to the entryway, staring at the window, as the last of the coffee sputtered into the pot. Her robe hung off one shoulder and barely covered her ass. Her hair was tousled. And damn, if she didn’t look more gorgeous than ever.
“Important call?” she asked, as she turned. Her expression was blank, except for the way the corners of her eyes tugged down.
“Work. Hayden’s spreading rumors.” He didn’t want to tell her this way. He’d rather not tell her at all.
“About us.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before looking at him again. “We knew it was coming.”
That didn’t make it easier to accept. He dropped his bag on the floor and closed the distance between them. Her eyes grew w
ide—the first real emotion she’d shown since he walked in the room—but she didn’t back away.
He cradled her face between his palms and slanted his mouth over hers. It was supposed to be a light kiss. A tender goodbye. When she dug her fingers into his chest, his restraint snapped. He dove into the moment, hard and hungry, tongue dancing with hers. She groaned against his mouth, sweet and desperate. Why wasn’t there a way to make this work? Every time she shifted her weight, the sensations teased his need.
Hands at her hips, he lifted her to the counter and wedged between her legs. She hooked her ankles around him, deepening the kiss. He could fall into this moment forever and not want to leave. Her robe slid open, and he shifted his hands to her bare waist.
He wasn’t sure where he summoned the strength from or why, but he finally broke the kiss. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m going to miss you.” He struggled to catch his breath.
“Me too. But I’m glad we did this.” She pulled back a few inches and looked him in the eye, without breaking contact. “What did you tell her?”
“Who?”
“Camille. What did you tell her, when she asked if it was true?”
The lie that came easily moments ago lodged in his throat now. He and Vivian both knew they had to be discreet, so why was he hesitating? “I denied it emphatically.” He hated the way that sounded.
“That’s the way it’ll always be, isn’t it?” Vivian’s voice was so low, he had to strain to hear the question, even with her sitting so close. “As long as you work for the firm that represents our biggest competitor, we’ll deny it.”
“Vi, it’s not...” What was he going to say? He’d given up the case, in order to walk away. He didn’t see any solution that allowed them to keep doing this, let alone stop hiding it.
“It’s okay.” She nudged his body back with hers, as she hopped from the counter and draped her arms around his neck. Nothing on her face said it was okay, but her tone was almost convincing. “Just because we never really said it, it’s no less true.” She shifted her weight against him, teasing. Torturing. “I didn’t expect you to tell her anything else, but it didn’t stop me from hoping.”
Her Counselor (Love Hack, #3) Page 11
