by Lindsey Hart
Ash pursed her lips. “So really, you’re just… well, this is actually about business, in a way.”
“We don’t have a business agreement.” Trace shrugged. “So, we met in an unorthodox way? Big deal. I’m open to a physical relationship if you are. I think it will help, but also and more important, I think you’d enjoy it.”
“I- I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her vagina had other ideas. Currently said member was doing a pissed off, finger waving, screaming tantrum at her. Oh my god, why don’t I just say yes already? Oh right. Probably because he’s the kind of guy who ruins you for sex forever.
“Why not?” Trace slid the menu away from her. “I’ll order for you. If you like what I order, then you have to trust me. After dinner, instead of just driving you back home and dropping you off after grilling you about details from your past so I don’t fuck up when it counts, I’ll come in with you. I’ll follow you up to your apartment and I’ll give you a taste of what’s possible. If you like that, then I’ll give you more. How is that for a compromise? Because we might have met because you needed a fake boyfriend, but how does that have to stop us from having some consensual fun that you look to be in dire need of?”
“Because- well… what if it doesn’t work out and the whole thing blows up at me and then I’m forced to go alone to the reunion because you don’t like the taste of my pussy or something.”
Trace froze. She froze. The silence that filled the space between them was so damn large she could park an entire fleet of buses in it.
And then, amazingly enough, Trace began to laugh. It was one of those silent laughs, the kind that was so violent it gripped you in the middle and squeezed the breath right out of you. Your shoulders shook and tears popped into your eyes, but there was no sound.
She laughed too, completely astonished and mortified she’d just said the word pussy out loud, let alone in that complete sentence.
“Trust me,” Trace shot her a sinful, panty-melting, ovary combusting look when he was done laughing. “That would never happen.”
“You don’t know.” Why am I protesting here?
He leveled a much darker, devilish look at her. “Darling, I really do.” He cut off any further protest by grabbing the menu as their server, a young woman in a white shirt and black pants ensemble, just happened to amble on over to their table.
“We’ll both have the shrimp and mussels in the white wine sauce with fettuccini. And a bottle of white wine, whatever pairing you think best. Also, a shot of whiskey for the lady.” He winked at the young woman, who went all gaga and nearly dropped her pad of paper.
“You’re the worst,” Ash hissed as soon as the poor woman left. “Look what you did to her.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about her. Tonight, I’m all yours.”
She stuck out her lip in a mock pout. “You’re mine for the week. Don’t forget that, Mr. Nightshadow.”
He chuckled softly. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Why would I? It’s hot.” Oh god. I need to learn to shut the hell up.
Trace, like a gentleman, inclined his head, ceding the point. The bastard looked so sexy, Ash would have done anything at that point if he asked her too. God, she found herself wishing she could skip dinner altogether and just get back to her apartment.
Which was just… wrong, wasn’t it?
Research. That’s all it was. She’d use it for her books. Yes, if she could justify what they were doing to herself in some useful way, then it was alright. It was… doable. Even for her. Sex she was pretty sure she sucked at. Men she was terrible with. Relationship wasn’t even a word that was in her vocabulary, but research… heck, she slayed research. She was willing to embarrass herself at her complete lack of sexual prowess just because Trace Nightshadow, omg seriously… looked at her with those dreamy eyes and his sinful mouth.
As if he knew exactly what he was doing, probably because he very well did, Trace slowly licked his tongue over his bottom lip.
Ash wanted a fake boyfriend. What she got was something else entirely. She became increasingly aware that she’d be very lucky if she made it out of the night alive.
CHAPTER 8
Trace
He couldn’t believe it. He’d somehow redirected the night into a much steamier, sexier ending than he’d imagined. He’d driven them back to Ash’s apartment and she’d asked him, with a scalding, smoldering look, to come up with her. Because he was a gentleman, he hadn’t refused her request. He had teaching to do after all. He had to prove to her that she was the sexy, confident, amazing woman he knew her to be. He had to make her believe it.
Ash dug in her purse, trying to produce her key. She was adorable, fumbling around, all thumbs, a blush already riding high on her cheekbones. He couldn’t help himself. He had to take her hand in his, a hand that now held her keys tightly. He twined his fingers through hers and took the key. He threaded it through the lock with ease and turned until the deadbolt slid open.
He gripped the handle and easily opened the door. He wrapped his free hand around Ash and hauled her up against him. He shut the door and pressed her up against it. She tipped her chin, dropped her purse, and let out a raspy breath she’d obviously been holding.
She was so beautiful it hurt. Wearing that skin-tight dress, the curve of her breasts and ass defined tastefully, her long, shapely legs on display. She’d tempted him all night and not because she was playing at anything or trying. He’d been hard before he even got to her apartment, just imagining what she’d look like for their date.
She hadn’t disappointed.
He couldn’t stop himself any longer. His lips crashed down over hers and his hands flew, pawing at her dress. She shifted and groaned and writhed against him. A more natural seductress had never been born. How the hell did this woman not have a man in her life long ago? How the hell did she not know how sexy she truly was?
His hand gripped the curve of her ass and he groaned as he hauled her in against him. She’d kicked off her shoes and he’d managed to shed his. Her dress was hiked up high, nearly exposing her underwear and his shirt had been ripped from his pants.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he rasped. He wanted to rip off her panties, hike up her dress and take her against the wall. He’d show some restraint since he wanted to initiate her into the finer arts of pleasure, not let her see the animal he was.
He didn’t give her a chance to answer. He crashed his mouth over hers, sucking and licking at her lips. They parted readily under the onslaught and he pushed his tongue into her mouth. He licked at hers eagerly, the strokes echoed south of the border. His cock was impossibly hard.
Ash’s apartment was small. There was an entranceway, a small kitchen after that, the living room, and a hallway. They stumbled into it together. He crashed against a coffee table, banging his legs painfully as she pushed against him, nipping his lips and sucking his tongue. She corrected him and steered him down a small hall. There was a door on the left, probably a bathroom, since she bypassed it.
She pushed into her room and didn’t bother turning on the light. He decided to let it slide, since the streetlights filtered in between uneven slats in dusty blinds, providing enough light to work with.
“You taste so good,” he said huskily as he pulled away panting.
“You taste better.”
“You taste like heaven.”
“You taste like sex.”
This is not an argument I’m going to win. He was just fine with that. He stopped talking and let his hands do the work. He stripped Ash out of her dress in record time. He managed to use self-control and not rip it to shreds. He even took care with the zipper. Her black lace bra and matching lace panties nearly brought him to his knees. They were like a reward for his careful control.
Ash’s dusky pink nipples stood out through the bra, hard and pert. He groaned and dipped a hand brazenly between her legs. She was hot and wet and so ready.
“Lord
, you’re so perfect,” he groaned. “You’re going to kill me. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Even in the dark, he could tell he’d made her blush. His hands flew to the button of his pants and he stripped them away far less carefully than he’d done with Ash’s clothes. His shirt didn’t fare any better. Buttons rained down all over the place as he practically tore it off. He stood in his tight boxers, which kept his cock from being a complete tent pole but did little to hide just what she was doing to him.
Ash glanced down and her eyes went wide. “Oh my god. I- I…”
She trailed off and he grinned. “Thanks. That’s flattering.” Ash swallowed hard. She reached up with a shaking hand to undo her bra, but he stopped her. “Let me.” He unhooked it deftly and let it fall away. Her breasts were perfect. Twin globes that were more than enough for a handful and the sweetest nipples he’d ever seen. “Perfect,” he breathed.
She opened her mouth, probably to voice some ridiculous protest, but the words died a hard death when he bent and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She squirmed against him, made the sweetest little mewling sounds, sounds that went straight to his dick, and thrust her chest forward.
“Oh my god,” she groaned. “More.” She threaded her fingers through his hair and guided him to her other breast. He nearly shot his load right there. God, had he thought she was going to be shy or reluctant? He thought he’d have some teaching to do, but the minute they walked through that door, all her awkward shyness fled and she became a damn goddess.
He claimed her other breast, suckling her until she was moaning and writhing again. He knew she’d be hotter, wetter, if he dipped his hand between her legs. He didn’t. Instead, he pulled away, nipping her gently as he released the tight bud. He blew on the wet flesh and she moaned.
“On the bed,” she commanded huskily. She blinked in surprise after, as though she’d shocked herself with her lusty command. She sure as hell shocked him. He let out a deep, throaty laugh, which seemed to piss her off. “What’s funny about that?” she asked, eyes blazing.
Trace glanced towards the bed. “For one, I have no intention of giving you what you want right away. What we both want. I’m going to torture you. Play with you. Make you beg. I’m going to teach you that it’s far, far, more pleasant to wait.” At least it will be for her. For him, it would be damn torture. Pleasant too, but far, far more torturous.
He wanted to do what she asked. Throw her on the bed and take her hard and fast until they were both screaming. There would be time for more later, after the first time was out of the way, but he didn’t want that. He was supposed to be teaching her something here, helping her understand that she was a goddess, giving her a boost of confidence so she could walk into that damn reunion of hers with her head held high, floating on a cloud as the beautiful, confident, sexy woman she was.
He couldn’t afford to lose control and give in to his baser side, no matter how much his dick wanted it. The problem was, his brain was shutting down, one fucking cell at a time and all the blood was currently in his rock-hard erection, making it impossible to think or hold himself back or use good judgment.
“What’s the second thing?”
“What?” Ash’s question snapped him out of his inner battle.
“You said for one. Where’s the for two?”
“Oh.” Trace’s eyes tracked a pattern to the bed. “There’s a cat watching us. His eyes are glowing and it’s slightly unnerving. He’ll probably go for my ball sack the second I get on the bed and use it as a fucking scratching post.”
Ash let out a smothered gasp of laughter that sounded more like a snort. “Oh my god. That’s just Slappy. I’ll get him out. Hold on.” She walked over to the bed, scooped up the cat, and carried him out. He hissed at her and took a swipe at her face, but she just laughed as she closed the door. “Slappy is king here, in case you didn’t realize.”
“I realized. My theory about the shredded balls is probably correct.”
“You’ve seen too many movies.”
“I’m not taking any chances.”
“He’d probably just claw your butt or your leg. Maybe latch onto your toe and not let go.”
“I’d have to get a tetanus shot after.”
Ash rolled her eyes. She sauntered back over, suggestively, far more freely and brazenly than he’d ever thought possible for someone who seemed so shy and unsure of herself. Where did this sex goddess come from? To think he might have awakened it with a few hot kisses and caresses was pretty self-involved, and he wasn’t ready to go that far. He might be good, but he wasn’t that good.
“Are you trying to tempt me?” He narrowed his eyes.
Ash froze. “Why? Is it- is it wrong? Oh god. I look stupid. I look stupid, don’t I?” She immediately went to cover her breast, but Trace reached out and pulled her in hard against him. She let out a muffled gasp of surprise when she hit his chest, palms first. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard, breathless.
“You do not look stupid,” he corrected breathing heavily as he ripped away. “Believe me, you look anything but.” He lifted her and tossed her lightly onto the bed. She let out a little squeal and inched away. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her back down. “You could never look stupid. Even if you did, it would still be sexy. Sexier than any other woman. You are beautiful, Ash. Tremendous. Sexy. You’re a goddess. You’re meant to be worshipped and that is exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Oh. My. God,” she breathed.
He let his hand slide up her thighs until they reached what he really wanted, the tight, beautiful heat sheathed in those fucking lace panties that he’d rather rip off than leave on. He had to draw the line somewhere though…
He crawled over her, the ache in his skin intensifying until it felt like it might actually kill him. He bent his head and licked and kissed his way up her thigh. She mewled and writhed underneath him, but there was no way he was letting her go. He kept her pinned down until he reached her gorgeous pussy. He kissed a hot trail over her panties, and god, her juices coated his lips right through the soaked lace.
He ground his hips hard into the bed, fucking that soft mattress and those sheets through his boxers. Fuck, it hurt, but it felt good. He imagined blowing his load right there, like a teenage boy. She reduced him to it, easily, with barely any effort. It had been a while for him since he’d actually slept with another person, but god, this was ridiculous.
Trace shut that part of himself off and concentrated on Ash. This was for her. For her pleasure. If he came in his boxers, so be it. He wasn’t going to stop until she knew she was a goddamn queen.
CHAPTER 9
Ash
Ash knew by the way Trace was taking his time with her, licking her through her panties, doing that slow exploration that drove her mad, he was trying to be sweet and considerate and think of her needs before his own.
Except that all he was doing was driving her insane. Her blood was so hot she felt like it was boiling. Her internal temperature had spiked a thousand degrees and she was sweating, sweltering and chaffing in her own skin.
“Please,” she begged as Trace’s tongue circled over her one more time. His mouth was so warm, his breath deliciously hot as he teased his way from her entrance to her clit.
“Not yet,” he had the nerve to say as if he was the one in control. He might be more experienced, no, he was more experienced, but she’d had it with the slow dance bullshit. She wanted him. All of him.
Her core clenched harder, liquid heat spooling in her core. “Then when,” she ground out. Her hips bucked up as he again circled her with his tongue.
“God, you’re delicious.” Trace looked up and ran his tongue along his lips, which were smeared with her arousal. Her stomach bottomed out.
Ash threw her head back. “Please, keep doing that. Only… take off my panties… please!”
Trace chuckled, his breath warm on her skin, tickling her clit, and god, even that felt good. “I’l
l take your panties off if you touch your nipples for me.”
She didn’t have to think twice or be asked twice. She brought her fingers to her breasts and pulled at her nipples, hard. It hurt, but it felt like heaven. She felt heavy and thick and so filled with need she might actually burst.
Trace did as he promised. He tore her panties away and then his mouth was on her, hard, hot, teasing and tasting. “Delicious,” he rasped. “You’re so fucking sweet.”
The hairs on the backs of her arms stood on end. Her entire body broke out in goosebumps. She took her hands away from her breasts and threaded them through Trace’s hair. The strands were soft, so much softer than they looked. Probably softer than her own hair. She needed to hold onto him, to ride out the storm that he was creating deep inside of her.
All her muscles clenched and bunched. She was so ready to shatter, to come apart.
And all that was before Trace licked her in a scorching pattern all the way to her clit as he stuck a finger inside. She wanted more. She wanted him. She wanted him to fill her up, but the feel of his finger was wicked and delicious. He sucked her clit as he stroked her, and jagged lights lit up her head. Her legs began to shake, and her stomach clenched hard. She felt like she was burning up and then the next second, she was ice cold.
“That’s it, baby,” Trace encouraged. “Come for me. Come on my tongue.” He pulled his finger out and then his tongue was there, at her entrance. He pushed inside, while he traded places with his finger. She was at the edge, teetering, waiting for that push. He gave her a definite push when he pinched her clit while his tongue was inside.
