by Shayla Black
Seconds later, it did. She did, saturating her body with the white heat of lightning pleasure. He joined her, flooding her mouth with the salty taste of him, filling her ears with his ragged groans and a torn curse.
Triumph and elation swirled with an encroaching oh-shit feeling. What had she done? Now she knew the taste of him, and she’d want it again. She was supposed to be discouraging the man, sending him away. Somehow she didn’t think that sucking him to an orgasm so hard he was still trying to find his breath was going to give him the “get lost” message.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she finally uttered.
Above her, his body tensed. “Because you don’t love me?”
“Because I don’t know you. This is insane! You keep sneaking into my house—”
“And you keep letting me into your body. Obviously, I’m not the only one out of my mind.”
“Oh, I agree. My behavior is completely mental. This needs to stop.”
He eased away, stood. The tub started to drain.
“Easy to say that after the orgasm, isn’t it?” he taunted. “Don’t make something out of nothing. You want to fuck and that’s it. I get it. I can be accommodating.”
No doubt, he could be extremely accommodating. But she still heard the anger in his voice. Nothing good could come from this.
“This isn’t a good idea,” she said gently.
“Having your own secret fuck toy isn’t a good idea? Just think, no maintenance. Nothing to share except your pussy and your mouth…and your ass, if you’ll let me have it. No messy emotions or commitments. No man’s dirty underwear to pick up off the floor. No one to hog the remote control. No guy to hear snoring at night. Perfect, isn’t it?”
No one to hold her as she drifted off to sleep. No man to soothe her when she’d had a hard day. No helpmate to care about, to turn to in tough times.
God, he was messing with her head. With her heart. Despite the fact the tub was nearly empty and the air was cold on her wet skin, Lauren drew her knees up to her chest. Hot tears scalded the backs of her eyes, her cheeks.
“What do you want?” she sobbed.
He didn’t reply, but bent and lifted her against his body. Lauren put her arms around him, anticipating the tender warmth of his embrace.
Instead, he laid her out on the soft area rug stretched across her bathroom floor, covered her body with his, and filled her with his cock in one hard thrust.
“I want to give you what you’re after. A good fuck. Another orgasm.”
The grip of his fingers on her hips conveyed the hint of anger that haunted his voice. His words hurt. And yet…she couldn’t stop her body from reacting. After a handful of times inside her, Mysterious already knew how to wring an honest response from her with every quick lunge of his hips and torturously slow withdrawal.
Friction, heat, desire all clawed at her. But there was more. Lauren lifted her hips in welcome, threw her arms around him and kissed the hard line of his jaw in atonement. Her affection had no effect on him. He continued to pound away at her, lifting her from the rug with each ferocious thrust into her body.
“Don’t be angry,” she managed to get out, though finding coherent words not lost in a sea of pleasure was damned difficult.
“I’m not angry. I’m aroused.”
Lauren didn’t believe him, but he robbed her of the ability to protest when he rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Pleasure shot straight from the sensitive tip all the way down to her sex, which clenched in hunger. He growled and repeated the action.
God, she was getting wetter by the moment. Hotter. The man could drive her to the brink of sanity in minutes. She’d never reacted to Tim or any other man this strongly—ever. It was exhilarating. It was scary as hell.
She couldn’t catch a breath, couldn’t stop herself from responding to him, couldn’t prevent the burn from racing through her body and setting her blood on fire. She couldn’t keep from wrapping her legs around his hips and inviting him deeper. And when his palm skated down her side, over the curve of her hip and settled between their bodies, Lauren couldn’t hold in her whimper.
Her head swam dizzily as he trapped her clit between his fingers, gave her a gentle pinch, and plunged his cock in to the hilt. “C’mon, Lauren. Come for me. Come!”
At the sharp need his touch and his growled command induced, Lauren obeyed, exploding. Shards of light, heat, and colors assailed her. She dug her nails into his back as she clamped down on his cock, milking him, igniting every nerve ending she’d ever felt—and a few she hadn’t known existed.
Then he pulsed, stiffened, roared…and joined her in pleasure.
They shared ragged breaths and racing hearts and tangled limbs. And Lauren couldn’t deny a tug toward the man. He moved her body, without question. And he’d admitted to loving her. Why? She had no idea who he was. And she’d used him for her pleasure. Granted, he’d taken some too, but not happily. The anger in his voice, in his touch, was clear. Guilt tugged at her.
Tonight, she’d meant to say no. To tell him to leave and not come back. A pair of mind-boggling orgasms later…it was too late.
Shame burned, even as the desire to touch him grew. And why? She’d dubbed him Noah in her mind and she didn’t want to let go. She’d given herself to him completely—again.
Now, she was going to have to pay the price by putting an end to this. It wasn’t fair to take pleasure from one man while thinking of another.
Her conversation with Kat came rushing back. Fine time… Now she recalled. She was supposed to tell Mysterious that she wanted someone else. But gee, after sucking him off and then spreading her legs for him so submissively on the bathroom floor, what were the odds that he’d believe her?
Lauren sighed, screwed up her courage, and opened her mouth to hopefully say the right thing to let him down without hurting him. Instead, he withdrew from her body and stood in one fluid motion. Suddenly, she felt cold.
The rustle of clothing told her he was dressing.
Lauren frowned. “You’re leaving?”
He stilled. “You ready for another round?”
Yes. No. Hell, she was confused. What did she want? Lauren searched herself… This was bad. She just wanted him to touch her, hold her. In his arms she felt desirable and sexy, like she imagined a woman in Noah Reeves’s bed would feel.
But she wanted him to actually be Noah. It wasn’t going to happen.
“I didn’t think so,” he muttered.
“You’re just going to go?” she blurted.
A moment later, he grabbed her wrist and looped something around it, then dragged her arm upward. He’d affixed her to her own towel bar. Before she could cuss at him, he snapped a blindfold over her eyes.
“Yep. I offered you more last time. Everything, in fact. You made yourself clear. Sex. Just sex. I got the message. You got fucked. I’ll see you next time I have an itch to scratch.”
His words horrified her. “You son of a bitch. That’s low. That’s lower than low. I never meant—”
The slam of the door cut her off. He was gone. He really had just…got up and left.
Lauren sat stunned. Even if she could have uncuffed her wrist in time to catch him, she wouldn’t have moved. Couldn’t have. She felt weirdly empty. And ashamed. God, what had she done?
On numb legs, she stood and plucked off the blindfold, then leaned over and flipped on the light switch. The face that confronted her in the mirror dismayed her. Flushed and disheveled, lips swollen, hair a ratted mess. She looked like a woman who’d been fucked. Not well loved. Just…used. The way she’d used him.
A fresh wave of guilt assailed her.
Quickly, she untied the loose knot around her wrist and stumbled to her bed as fresh, hot tears burned paths down her cheeks.
* * * *
Noah damn near jumped out of his skin when the doorbell rang.
Lauren had arrived. She would be here, under this roof. Finally.
The day had dragge
d on interminably. Staring at Lauren, her hair falling softly over her shoulders, from across a conference room table hadn’t been good for his concentration this afternoon. Remembering the feel of her hot and tight around him while he plunged as far into her as possible and wishing he could merge with her forever hadn't been productive when discussing the business’s bottom line and possible expansion plans. Wondering what she’d thought of Mr. Mysterious’s impersonal booty call in her bathroom had worn his nerves thin.
Earlier today, he’d arranged for the delivery of a collection of erotic vignettes from Mr. Mysterious at her house with certain passages marked, scenarios that were a bit rough, male dominating, sometimes crude. He’d included a note that simply read, Next time I have an itch to scratch… No signature. Had she opened the package, scanned the stories he’d flagged?
It had bothered him like hell to treat her that way, to treat her worse than the dozens of women he’d nailed and forgotten in his past. The confusion and hurt in her voice had torn at him. The way she’d clung to him as he’d risen to dress had nearly caused him to lose his resolve. But he’d held firm, reminded himself that the end justified the means. He had a point to make. And he was close, damn close, to his prize.
Focus.
Now it was time to push last night, today at the office, and everything else aside. At this moment, he wasn’t her boss, or Mr. Mysterious. Now he could just be himself and do his best to gently romance her—enough that she’d start getting the picture, but not so much that she’d run screaming. All the games and subterfuge would end soon.
Noah hoped like hell that he could finally make love to her as himself.
He smiled as he answered the door.
On the other side, Lauren stood with Emma on one side, Cass on her hip, looking spring fresh and scrumptious with a gauzy cover-up that didn’t totally hide her slinky black bathing suit and luscious body underneath. His mouth watered. Other parts were dangerously close to standing at attention in a very visible way.
“Hi, Lauren, girls. Come in,” he invited.
As they filed inside, Emma sent him a very solemn look for a six-year-old. He wondered what it would take to make the girl smile again. Of everyone affected, the divorce had hit this child the hardest. She reminded him of Tim—all drive, buried sense of humor, and damn smart. Still, he hoped that she gave herself the chance to be a little girl before it was too late. And he hoped he could help her.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Emma said without a smile.
“You're welcome. I haven't used my pool that much since I moved in. It's getting lonely, so I had to invite some company over.”
Emma frowned. “Pools don't get lonely. They get dirty.”
Too serious by far. Over time, he’d find a way to put a smile back on her face.
“Are you sure? I could swear I heard it whispering to me… ‘Why bother if you never use me?’”
A corner of Emma’s little pink mouth twitched. “You’re silly.”
“Twim. Now!” Cass demanded, wriggling on Lauren's hip until the child nearly fell.
Noah scooped the little blonde bundle up with a laugh and a hug.
“Right now,” Noah promised.
“Sorry,” Lauren murmured. “They’re a handful.”
“They're wonderful. This big ol’ house has been way too silent lately. We all could use a good time.”
“It’s a huge house for one,” she said, looking around.
Noah shrugged. Better not to mention just now that, about a year ago, he’d purchased this four bedroom, three bath house with her and the girls in mind…and made sure the place had enough room for a nursery.
“Lots of room is never a bad thing,” he said vaguely. “Good tax break.”
He noticed then that Lauren carried a large bag over her shoulder stuffed with towels and other goodies. It smelled of…
“Chocolate chip cookies?” His nose wasn’t deceiving him, right?
Lauren made the best cookies. After one bite, if he hadn’t already fallen in love with her, he’d have surrendered his heart on the spot.
“Emma and I baked a quick batch as a thank you for inviting us.”
“Walnuts?” he asked hopefully.
“Some with, some without. Cass is allergic to most nuts.”
Noah made a mental note to be careful with the little girl and nuts as he led them deeper into the house, past the formal living and dining rooms, to the kitchen and the back of the house. Emma hovered close to a corner, while Cass ran across the floor and pressed her face against the French doors, looking out at the pool beyond.
Lauren set her bag down and regarded him with a self-conscious expression. “What can I do to help with dinner?”
“Just talk to me. Everything is mostly ready. All I have to do is barbeque.” He turned back to the girls. "Who wants hamburgers and hot dogs?"
“Me!” Cass bounced up and down.
“Yes, please,” Emma said quietly, clutching a Saddle Club book in her little hands.
“Maybe you can have one of each and we won't tell your mom,” he said in a stage whisper.
“I heard that.” Lauren smiled.
“Darn.” Noah laughed. “I suppose I'll have to let you punish me later,” he shot her a wicked grin…just to watch her reaction.
Lauren didn't disappoint. She flushed a sweet rosy shade. “You wish.”
She had no idea. If the punishment included some reciprocal action, he was definitely all for it.
* * * *
Within a few minutes, Lauren followed Noah outside and chatted as he grilled their dinner. A few potato chips and some fruit salad later, they were eating. Afterward, the girls swam. Cass paddled with her floaties, laughing. Emma rigorously practiced her freestyle up and down the pool until Lauren had to remind her that swimming was supposed to be fun, too.
She sighed.
“You’re worried about her.” Noah glanced across the small patio at Emma.
Twilight wrapped them in a warm-breezed cocoon, decorated with twinkling lights and emerging stars. How romantic it was here, among his wild plants and tropical flowers, the pool’s waterfall gently rushing in the background. The girls played quietly and, for a moment, she could imagine that she and Noah were alone.
Dangerous. Stupid. Asking for a broken heart.
“Yes,” she said finally. “I worry about Emma. She’s so…”
“Like Tim. Very serious. You’re doing the right things to encourage her to be a kid while she can.”
“I know. She just has so little to be happy about. Kids tease her for being so smart. I try to be both Mom and Dad but—”
“It’s not the same as having a father for her, is it?”
“No. I had such a special bond with my dad before he passed away. It kills me that Em and Cass don’t have the same thing.”
“Maybe you’ll remarry someday.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I won’t.”
“Never say never.”
Noah looked at her then, straight at her, deep in her eyes. His icy blue eyes sizzled with something, and Lauren’s heart skipped a beat. Why did he care if she remarried?
She stared back, focusing for a moment on his hair, which fell just to his collar, waving slightly as it brushed his forehead and ears. His mouth snared her gaze next, followed by the width of his shoulders. Familiarity tugged at her, not because he seemed like himself in that moment. But as darkness descended and shadows enveloped the yard, he reminded her of Mr. Mysterious. Different
