by Nikki Sloane
I peeled her backside apart and prodded, letting my dick slide around in the liquid. It wasn’t sticky, but thick and slippery, and it felt almost luxurious.
Her breathing was short and rapid, her shoulders tense. I had to be feeling some of her same nerves, just the flip side. I didn’t want to hurt her. If she didn’t enjoy it, I wasn’t going to either.
I clamped a hand around the base of my dick and found where I wanted to go, and slowly began to press at the tight spot. The lube made me slide the head inside, but her fingers reached out for me, touching my stomach and asking me to wait.
“Oh, fuck,” she cried. “Go slow.”
I moved at a snail’s pace, focusing in on every stuttering breath she took and each tiny movement she made. Jesus Fucking Christ, her body gripped me like a tourniquet. It was so tight, I clenched my teeth together.
I barely moved as a bead of sweat rolled down my back. Her hands relaxed a little as I drew backward, and then eased forward. In. Out. A tiny bit more on each pass. Her eyes were closed, at least the one I could see, and her face was pure concentration. Perhaps I could distract her as she got used to the sensation.
“Where’s my cock right now, Ruby?”
She shuddered around me, but it seemed to be a good one. “Oh my God.”
“Tell me. Where is it?”
“It’s in my ass, fucking me.”
I throbbed and my balls tightened. Not yet, just wait. I gazed down and watched as my glistening cock disappeared inside her. So, very, hot. It was a tiny miracle I didn’t come just at the sight of it.
I was almost all the way in, and it seemed that every gentle thrust I gave her loosened her up and allowed me to push further. “That’s it,” I whispered. “Take it deep.”
She moaned softly, and it was my undoing. I needed to come, and I needed to do it now, but I wanted her with me. I scanned the bed until I found the vibrator, turned it on, and leaned over.
I shoved it between her and the pillows, positioning it so she could grind on the pulsating head while I fucked her from behind. As soon as the vibe made contact, she moaned again, only this time it wasn’t quiet. It was loud, and long, and full of satisfaction.
My hands fell to her waist as I straightened and widened the stance of my knees so I was at the right angle. Ruby’s moans picked up in frequency and intensity as my pace increased. My thoughts were a blur, overridden by sensation and the primal need that ripped through me.
Come. Come. Come.
My body chanted it and I had no idea if it was talking to me, her, or both of us. I wanted to hold out but I wasn’t sure if I could, and if she even had anything left after the multiple orgasms I’d given her before. But as she moved on the vibrator and panted for air, I began to believe.
“I’m close,” she gasped. “Can I come?”
I couldn’t even form words, but grunted something I desperately want to sound like approval, because her question had pushed me past the point of no return. My chest tightened and I dug my fingers into her waist, holding on as the pleasure descended like an avalanche.
The ecstasy blasted out of my core, one hot torrent after another, all while Ruby began to come as well. Her body shook with tremors while she cried out, and her fingers clawed at my skin. The pulsating contractions from her prolonged the sensation, wringing extra pleasure from me until I felt like there was nothing left.
I didn’t exist anymore; there was only her heat, and soft skin, and the intoxicating smell of vanilla.
Autopilot took over. I lay down beside her, unhooked her cuffs, and trailed my fingertips over her back, tracing the line of her spine. She remained still, allowing it, and although her eyes were closed, she looked peaceful. Maybe even happy.
“Going to sleep on me?” I whispered.
Her eyes popped open and her mouth curved into a lazy smile. “No. Just . . . trying to come back to Earth.”
“So, it’s safe to say you didn’t hate it?”
She laughed softly. “Yes, I certainly didn’t hate it.”
There was a ripping sound as she pulled off the cuffs at her wrists, so I sat up and undid her ankles, then kept my gaze on her as she crawled off the bed and disappeared across the hall into the bathroom.
The vibrator was dumped to the floor, and as I straightened the pillows, I scrubbed a hand over my face, letting my palm bristle over my five o’clock shadow. Last night she’d tried to flee immediately after the sex. It was because her defenses were down. I was hopeful it was the same tonight, and I’d do everything I could to avoid her booting me out of her bed. I’d have to handle the next few minutes with her carefully.
I made it easy on her at first. When the door swung open and she came into the bedroom, I got off the bed and left her to lie down while I moved to clean up in the bathroom. When I returned, she seemed to still be naked, although I couldn’t tell for sure. She was under the covers, lying in the center of the bed.
It made me smile. “You think if you take up enough of the bed, I won’t join you?”
Her expression hardened. “We talked about this last night. I need distance after.”
“Wrong, you want distance.” I strode to the edge of the bed and peered down at her. “What did I tell you tonight was going to be about?”
She launched upright, the sheets shifting around her waist, exposing her magnificent breasts, and her face filled with fire. “I told you, if this is going to work—”
“I’m getting in that bed, sweetheart.” My voice was final, but I attempted to soften it with a smile. “I’m not above tying you back down to do it, either.”
Chapter
TWENTY-NINE
RUBY
Kyle McCreary slept in my bed three nights this week, that asshole.
And I loved it.
Well, I begrudgingly loved it. I told him I merely tolerated his presence, and he’d smiled like the Cheshire Cat. After all we’d done on Saturday night, I was a little relieved he’d fought to get into bed with me. I’d ordered him to stay on his side and said I’d kick his ass out if he started snoring, but I was glad when he peeled back the covers and climbed in.
We stayed up late, finishing the bottle of wine and talking. When we avoided our past, conversation was easy and, good God, it was like no time had passed at all. We still liked the same things, and still liked to argue about the things we didn’t. We still . . . clicked.
It had been a long time since I’d slept beside Kyle, and a lump welled in my throat. Fuck, why did he have to make my feelings so complicated? My anger at him over the years had rolled into a big ball that time polished down, making it smaller and easier to ignore. It lingered, though, weighing me down.
And now, who was there to blame? We’d both made mistakes, which I believed we wanted to move past.
I climbed into my bed and curled up beside the man who I’d once loved with everything I had. Was I foolish to go to him? Probably. But I was impulsive and willing to risk it. How much of my heart was there left to break, anyway?
At the end of the week, I returned to the dry cleaner, who was a fucking miracle worker and saved Morgan’s dress. I dropped it off at Grant’s place, had a beer with him, and spilled my guts about the whole messed-up situation with Kyle, partnership agreement and all.
“Don’t judge me,” I said. “I know it’s stupid. I’m stupid.”
“Rube.” Grant’s expression was serious. “You’re not stupid. You loved McAsshole.”
“More than anything.” The only upside to my terrible temper was that I loved just as fiercely.
His dark brown eyes were warm and unassuming. “Love like that is powerful.”
Of course Grant understood. I stared at the bottle of beer in my hands. “Before that final day, the only reason we were breaking up was because Kyle was moving across the country.” I took my last sip and set the beer on the table. “Now he’s back, so the obstacle’s gone, but . . . he says he doesn’t want anything more. And I’m not sure if I do either.”
> Grant gave me a plain look. “You don’t, hey? Need me to fill you in?”
“Fuck.” I set my elbows on the table and my face in my hands. I had to stop kidding myself. I knew exactly what I wanted. I’d been in the partnership with Kyle for a week, but it’d taken me far less time to realize I was going to want more. “What do I do?”
“Talk to him?”
“I can’t. It’ll mess everything up.”
He picked up my empty bottle and dropped both of ours into the recycling bin with a loud clack. “Just my opinion, yeah? Better to know now.” Grant leaned back in his chair and crossed his thick arms over his chest. “If McAsshole’s only in it to sleep with you, then don’t waste any more time on him.”
“And if he’s not?”
“Then don’t waste time pretending it’s just sex.”
I left Grant’s apartment feeling anxious, and nerves itched under my skin. He was right. I wanted more from Kyle, but I was terrified to lose what we had. It felt like I’d just gotten him back.
On the walk to the El station, I pulled out my phone and texted him, my fingers numb in the cold.
My walk slowed and my lips curled into a smile.
I climbed the metal grate steps up to the station and placed my pass on the turnstile, which was so loud I almost missed the next chime of a text message.
The noise of the approaching train covered my laugh.
Kyle took me to Celeste, a three-floor restaurant in his neighborhood. The host escorted us up the stairs to the deco room with warm tones and buttery light, most likely from the gold coated ceiling. It was a narrow space, small tables on one side and the bar on the other. It was also crowded and loud, yet still felt intimate as we slipped into our seats at the small, round table.
“What are your motivations, counselor?” I ran the pad of my finger along the rim of my martini.
“My motivations?”
“You always hold your business meetings in romantic restaurants?”
“This place is romantic? I hadn’t even thought about it.”
So obviously a lie.
“Business,” I reminded, my tone pointed. We’d had plenty of small talk on the drive over here, and I still didn’t get what game he was playing. If you want to date me, just fucking date me already.
Kyle took a sip of his Old Fashioned, and leaned forward so he didn’t have to speak too loudly over the din of the crowd. “The man I went shopping with last week, he’s asked to meet you.”
My finger stopped its path on the rim and my brain went haywire. The mystery Dominant wanted to meet me? For what? Before I could come up with anything, Kyle spoke again.
“Let me rephrase. He and his fiancée are interested in getting to know us better. Maybe even . . . playing with us.”
Holy hell.
Something like unexpected excitement fluttered through me. Not just the thought of another couple, but the way the word had rolled so casually out of Kyle’s mouth. Us.
But I instantly had so many questions. “Meaning what, exactly?”
“That’s up to you. If you’re interested, we’d discuss our boundaries, and I’d take those back to him. He and I would go over what everyone’s comfortable with.”
My heartbeat picked up, galloping along almost as fast as my thoughts. The word play could encompass so much. What was I comfortable with? What about Kyle? “How do you feel about the idea?”
His smile was soft and seductive. “It has appeal.” His blue eyes scanned my face. “And you?”
It was like negotiations, neither of us wanting to completely tip our hand. “Yes.” My tone mocked his professional one. “I also find the idea appealing.”
He leaned back in his seat, his hand wrapped around his drink, and his fingertips played with the condensation there. It was impossible not to think about the night he’d put his glass of bourbon on me, and I shuddered with flashback pleasure. Did he know what he was doing to me?
“Can I ask a shallow question?” I felt guilty, but I needed to know. “Have you met the fiancée? Are they attractive?”
“Yeah, I have, and it’s not shallow of you to ask. He asked the same about you.” Kyle’s expression was serious. “Attraction is important.”
Don’t hold out on me, Kyle. “Okay, so . . .?”
“I think most women would say he’s attractive, and she’s very pretty.”
I didn’t mean it to sound jealous or vain, it was more out of curiosity. “Is she better looking than me?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve always preferred brunettes, and she’s younger than us—” His hand darted into his sport coat and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, followed by a pen. “I’m getting ahead of myself.”
“What’s that?” My heart fell into my stomach. I didn’t want another partnership agreement, and certainly not one that included strangers.
“I mentioned my friend likes his privacy.” The paper was unfolded, set on the table, and slid toward me. “It’s an NDA.”
Relief washed calm through my system.
I reviewed the non-disclosure agreement quickly, seeing it was pretty standard, but who was this guy? Or how kinky did he anticipate it getting that he needed an NDA? I scribbled out my signature and the date, folded it up, and handed it over. I said it like a joke although it wasn’t. “Is he famous?”
“No. Joseph is just a cautious businessman who likes to keep a low profile.”
It made sense. If he was successful, his extra-curricular activities getting out could have a negative impact on potential clients.
“Well, now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk specifics.” Kyle’s expression flared with desire, silently challenging me to go first.
I glanced around. There were tables on both sides of us, and close, too. My voice was skeptical. “Here?”
“No one’s paying attention to us.”
I chuckled. “You’re wrong. There’s a woman at the end of the bar who seems plenty interested in you.” His head turned. “Shit, don’t look at her!”
He ignored me. The woman was sitting with two girlfriends, laughing and appearing to have a good time, but every now and again her gaze would wander over our direction. More specifically, Kyle’s.
Not that I could fault her; he looked gorgeous. He wore a navy blue sport coat over a simple white dress shirt, a few buttons undone, and blue jeans. His hair was parted on one side with just a hint of unruliness, and there was his delicious few-days-old beard.
When he caught her looking, the woman’s head snapped forward and she stared at her drink like it was the most exciting thing she’d ever seen. We were too far away to see if she was blushing, but her posture suggested she was embarrassed.
“You should go get her number,” I said. What the fuck was I doing? “She’s cute.”
Kyle’s attention jerked back to me, his face blank. “I’ll pass.” What was he thinking about? “That wouldn’t bother you?”
Yes, of course it would. I absolutely hated the idea, but I’d painted myself into a corner with my teasing and his dumb requirement of not talking about feelings. I shrugged. Was it still a lie when it was done with body language?
His expression didn’t change at all. A lifetime passed.
“All right, then I guess I will.” He turned in his seat to face her, preparing to stand.
Chapter
THIRTY
What the fuck? Impulse took over when the woman’s gaze connected with Kyle’s.
No. He was mine.
I was dimly aware I was acting like a child, but couldn’t stop myself. I launched over the table, grabbed the back of his head, and jerked him into my kiss.
It seared over my lips and I loved the familiar taste. Bourbon, and lust, and the flavor that was distinctly him. It was like he was ready for it. He’d called my bluff, and this kiss was his victory. Oh, hell. Let’s just make it a victory lap, then. His hand pushed my hair out of its way and cupped my cheek, deepening the kiss until I was burning from the inside.
>
When we finally drew away from each other, I was short of breath and his mouth pulled into a dazzling smile.
“I lied,” I choked out. “It’d bother me.”
He looked pleased as he swiveled in his seat, returning his full attention to me. “Good. If the roles were reversed, I know it’d fucking bother me.”
I settled back down into my own seat, adjusting the cloth napkin. “Then, full disclosure, I had a client hit on me today.”
“Yeah?” Up went Kyle’s shields, and his eyes shuttered. “How’d that go?”
“Since the guy’s currently going through a divorce?” I grimaced. “Yeah, no thanks.”
Naturally, I left out the part where the client was Tariq Crawford.
The enormous football player had finished up his appointment with Henry at the same moment I was coming back from filling my bottle at the water cooler. He’d flashed a disarming smile and struck up a conversation. From his easy-going attitude, you never would have guessed he’d just come from a meeting regarding his divorce.
It all seemed pleasant and without purpose until he’d moved to stand a little too close. His voice had dropped low as he asked if he could have my number. You know, just in case he couldn’t get in touch with Henry. I pasted on a smile, not wanting to make such a huge client feel uncomfortable, and politely reminded him I was no longer involved with his divorce.
“Is that your only reason for turning him down?” Kyle asked, pulling me from my memory. His face was emotionless, but he seemed stiff.
“No,” I said. “I had other reasons.”
Was it excitement he was trying to disguise? His voice was hurried. “Which are?”
“Unimportant.” I took a sip of my martini and set it down, keeping my gaze locked on his. “I want to talk about Joseph. Was this your idea or his?”
For a moment, it seemed like Kyle wasn’t going to let it go, but he appeared to relax. “It was his. He’s offered to help me.”
