by Lee Piper
I stand there, boneless and wanting.
“But you need some water first.”
“As much as I’d love to demonstrate my mastery of kinetic movement by both picking up a glass and drinking the contents without incident, it’s not going to happen.” There’s a warmth in Reid’s gaze. I’m transported back to a time when he always used to look at me like this. My heart freefalls. Trembling fingers touch his lips. “There you are.”
“Shiloh?”
My voice is soft. “I thought I’d lost you.”
He is silent. Understandable. I’m a straitjacket away from being committed.
I trace his jawline, relishing the rough sensation of day-old growth under my fingertips. It’s like touching him for the first time.
His mouth parts.
“God, I’ve missed you.”
Something sparks, flickers, and is gone, all in the space of a heartbeat. “Shiloh.” His voice is a warning.
“Yes?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“No feelings, remember?”
I pull away as though burned, blinking furiously. “Yep. Right, of course.” Clearing my throat once, twice, I aim for nonchalance and fail. Miserably. Turning on my heel, I throw over one shoulder, “Sorry, you reminded me of someone I used to know.”
Striding out of Tempest, I marvel at how well the name fits my swarming emotions. Tripping on one of the steps in my haste to get away, I groan. After the day I’ve had, I’m calling it a win.
The taxi ride back to my place is silent, awkward, and excruciatingly long. The driver keeps staring at Reid and me in the rear-view mirror, no doubt picking up on our weird vibes. I’m half inclined to pay him extra to keep his eyes on the damn road. If he’s hoping to cop a glimpse of some under-the-shirt action, he’s going to be waiting a long-ass time. With Gwendolyn as my witness, I will never let Reid touch me again. I refuse to put myself through the turmoil. With anyone else, it would be sex. But with Reid? Resting my elbow on the car window, I lean against my palm and exhale. It could never be sex with him.
“Thanks.” Throwing my half of the fare somewhere in the vicinity of the driver, I scramble out of the cab. My key is almost in the lock before I’m spun around and pressed against the unopened door.
“No.”
Squirming in Reid’s arms, I glare at him. The mental image of pinching his balls until he screams is mindfulness at its best, and soon enough, I’m calm. “Let me go.”
Strangely, he does. “We’re not done here.”
I snort. “Oh, we’re done, Tate. Hell, we were done before we got started. I can’t even begin to explain how much and in how many ways we are—”
He kisses me.
Damn, if it isn’t the hottest kiss on record. Reid’s lips are firm, searching, insistent. On my gasp, he slips his tongue inside. It teases, tastes, savors my mouth with each stroke. His hands angle my head, creating greater depth, while his hips rock against my sweet spot.
I pull away, panting. “Reid.”
His breathing is labored. “What?”
“You’re giving me vertigo.” Pushing him away, I rake trembling fingers through my hair. Only it’s so knotted, my pinkie gets caught. With a muttered curse, I begin the arduous task of Operation Retract and Reclaim. Blessedly, I manage to untangle myself before my finger turns purple.
Moving a few steps away, I turn to face him. “This”—I gesture to the space between us—“is doing my head in. One minute you’re hot for me, the next you’re distancing yourself. You don’t want me to develop feelings, but then you act like you care.” My voice catches, and I hate it. “I want your help with my enochlophobia. I do. And for some fucked up reason, your idea seems to be working. But the rest of this?” Shaking my head, I say, “We’re not fucking.”
He takes a decided step closer. “We’re gonna fuck.”
I gulp but remain firm. “No. Fucking will lead to feelings.” My fingers do stellar air quotations.
“We’re gonna fuck.” Reid’s eyes are dark. “I’m gonna thrust my hard cock inside that tight pussy of yours until it clamps down, milking every last drop of my cum.”
Silence.
Silence.
No. Words.
“Like you said,” Reid continues as though he hasn’t robbed me of every last IQ point, “my idea is working. Consider this your reward for going into the mosh tonight. Nothing more, nothing less.”
His hands trail up the backs of my thighs. I stifle a moan. “Let me get this straight.” My voice transcends a whole new realm of huskiness. “Each time I face my phobia, you’re going to give me a celebratory happy afterward?”
Reid lifts me until my legs wrap around his narrow waist. I feel him harden against me. He nuzzles my neck. “Afterward, during. Depends on where we are and if the situation calls for it.”
It takes a moment to get the cogs in my brain working again. “So it’s kinda like a rewards program, but instead of free coffee, I get orgasms?” It’s sad how hopeful I sound.
Chuckling, his nose skims the length of my jaw. “Sure, whatever.” When he bites that sensitive spot just before my collarbone, I curse. Really effing loud.
Delving my hands into his hair, I scratch his scalp with my nails. “I like this version better. Coffee tastes like crap. I’d much rather have—”
“A caramel milkshake. Heavy on the caramel, heavy on the ice cream, full cream milk, forget the skim shit.” His gaze meets mine. “I remember.”
Oxygen?
Unnecessary.
My heart?
A luxury.
I blink, reminding myself we’re not growing closer. We’re not lowering our defenses or recreating history. No. There is no prince in this story. There’s no princess in an ivory tower, and there sure as shit is no riding off into the sunset. It’s just me using Reid to overcome my phobia.
I need an orgasm.
“Give me your keys.” Before I can protest, Reid has the door open and is carrying me upstairs. The man has gypsy blood.
“How do you know where my room is?”
He teases my earlobe, and I shiver. “Lucky guess.”
The bedroom door slams shut behind us. Reid releases my legs, and I slide down his body, every ridge and crevice a slow, sensual torture.
Once my feet hit the wooden floor, he growls. “Naked. Now.”
Formulating words would be advantageous for a girl in my situation, but for the life of me, I’m mute. I open my mouth then close it again. I even give the whole opening my mouth thing another go. Nope, nothing. Apart from a sweet puffer fish impersonation, the movement is futile.
Oh, irony. You cheeky bastard.
I blame it on Reid. And my heart. Together they’re a dangerous combination.
“Arms up.”
I comply, if only to drown in the sensation of heat on skin, of a connection so strong, so tangible, it crackles between us. His touch traces the exposed skin between my waistband and the raised material of my shirt. Instinctively, I drop my hands. “I’m ticklish.”
“Arms. Up.”
The soft fabric of my shirt whispers against heated skin as it is skims over my body. When it covers my eyes, I’m blind. Completely flipping blind. Sheer panic unfurls in my belly when the material is left in place. However, Reid’s quiet exhale and muttered curse calms me. Knowing I have this effect on him has me standing taller. Hell, I even arch my back, daring him to do something, anything. He doesn’t move. Instead, he blows cool air onto my nipples. They’re barely contained within a pathetic excuse for a bra and harden instantly. If they take his eyes out, it’s his own damn fault.
Suddenly, the shirt is whipped over my head. Even though the room is dark and the moonlight beaming through the window is our only light source, it still takes a moment to adjust. When I do, I realize three things.
One, Reid is shirtless. I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.
Two, my top is tucked into the front pocket of his jeans.
/> Three, I need to touch him.
I blame the nipple ring for me not giving two hoots about what he has planned for my favorite shirt. The titanium bar winking at me in the semi-darkness, mocking me from where it sits on one half of the hottest set of pecs I’ve ever seen, is like a damn homing beacon. Leaning forward, I swipe my tongue over the cool metal, relishing Reid’s hiss as I cover the piercing with my mouth. The moment my lips kiss skin, it happens. Memories from that night flood my subconscious, and I’m struck dumb by their intensity.
Heat.
Breath.
Desire.
Love.
Reid tugs on my hair, forcing me back to the present. Releasing my new play toy, I gaze into his hooded stare. A beat. Then two. With an exhale, his lips crash into mine.
“You’re such a fuckin’ tease.”
“Says the man who is yet to give me an orgasm.” He palms my girls, and I groan. “Christ.”
“Wrong.” Reid yanks the bra down before pinching my nipples. My head rolls back. “It’s my name you’re gonna moan, gasp, scream.” His mouth covers one painfully hard peak, licking, sucking, teasing it with his tongue. “No one else’s. Mine.”
My fingers thread through the soft strands of his hair, urging him closer. “Yes, yours.”
He nips the underside of my breast before turning his full attention to the other, indifferent to my struggle to remain standing. “You’re goddamn right.”
With a flick of his wrist, my bra is unclasped and Reid straightens, allowing it to drop to the floor. His eyes are the darkest I’ve ever seen. It’s like staring into an ash cloud. “Take off your clothes.”
If he’s hoping for a seductive strip tease, he’s going to be sorely disappointed. I trip in my heels, struggle with the zipper on my pants, and realize somewhat belatedly that my plain cotton panties are the least sexy garment I own. But when I finally manage to wrangle off the last item of clothing, flick some disheveled hair out of my face, and straighten to my full height, I still.
Reid’s gaze is smoldering. It’s ablaze. An inferno. He swallows. “Turn around.”
I obey. Only because I don’t want him witnessing how much I need his approval to fill the gaping hole within me.
“Arms behind your back.”
It’s freakish how quickly I submit, how easily my body responds to his commands. I shake my head. Yet another thought to repress until later.
Reid’s touch skims my hands as he positions them, one on top of the other. Tingles break out over my skin, and I clench my thighs together to ease the burgeoning ache. He binds my wrists behind my back. There’s enough give in the material to allow circulation, but little else. Strangely, rather than vulnerable, I feel safe.
It takes a few tries, but eventually I clear my throat. “So that’s why you kept my shirt? For the record, it’s my favorite. Don’t jizz all over it.”
Silence.
“Walk to the bed.”
A shiver trickles down my spine. There is something about this side to Reid. I love how he doesn’t take my shit. It gets me hot. Really, really hot.
My knees hit the mattress.
“Spread your legs.”
Nibbling my bottom lip, I pause. What if this is a huge mistake? What if using Reid as a distraction from my phobia does nothing but expose past wounds? I mean, walking away from him broke me. Completely. For three years I’ve been an empty shell. So how is letting the guy inside me going to help? It’s madness, it’s insanity, it’s—
“I’m not gonna ask again.”
His low voice settles the disquiet. Acting on instinct, I shuffle my feet apart.
“Wider.”
I shift again.
“Wider.”
And again.
His feet pad across the carpet until I can sense him behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, like they’re trying to get as close to him as possible. Not that I blame them.
One finger trails from my shoulder blade down the curve of my spine and comes to rest on the small of my back. If I wasn’t so electrified, I’d be freaked out by how he can render me a trembling pile of mush with a single digit. But there’s no room for second thoughts. There is only me, my wet pussy, and a whole lot of yearning in between.
Reid flattens his hand against my back. When he finally speaks, his voice is a deep rumble. “Bend over.”
Dead.
The man wants me dead.
I shut my eyes, my breathing frantic. I will not crumble. I will not spin around. I will not drop to my knees and beg for his cock in my mouth, my pussy, my fucking armpit, for Christ’s sake. No, I’ve got this. I’m in control. Don’t submissives have all the power or some shit? I’m sure I’ve heard that somewhere. I roll my eyes. Yeah, in a fucking fictional film complete with pop diva soundtrack.
I’m so effing screwed.
“Now.”
With a deep breath, I do as he says. Bending at the waist, I lean forward until my cheek rests against the soft bedcover. I’m completely open to him. The realization sends a bolt of heat to my center, and desire pools in my belly. Droplets of need drip down my inner thighs.
I want him, I need him, now.
“Fuck me, Reid.”
Crack.
It takes a few seconds to register what happened, but when it does, I’m in shock. Reid spanked me. Reid goddamn Tate spanked my ass. In the one time we were together, he never did anything like this. He was soft, caring, compassionate. The exact opposite of the man no doubt marking my fevered skin. And the worst part? I love it.
“Holy shit.” I’m drenched.
His large hand caresses my smarting behind, soothing away the sting. A dark part of me doesn’t want it to fade. It craves the burn. If only to prove that for a moment, a single, glorious moment, he was mine.
My pussy throbs as his upper body brushes against my back, the downy hair below his navel tickling my oversensitive skin. “You’re not giving the orders here. I am.”
I swallow. “Right. Sure thing.” If I had the ability to move my hands, I’d give him the double thumbs-up.
Reid’s palm slips lower, his fingers skimming my slick folds. It’s official, my intellect is MIA. Desire is now in control.
“Who is in charge here?”
“Um…” My hair is yanked back until we’re staring into each other’s eyes. Panting, I take in the stranger before me. His eyes are black, his jaw is clenched, there’s a tension in his features I’ve never seen before. However, rather than scare me, this new Reid is the culmination of my every sexual fantasy. I wonder what he sees when he stares at me. Are my pupils as dilated as his? Is my skin as flushed? Does my body call to him like his does to me? I lick my lips. “You are.”
“Good girl.”
With his gaze fixed on my face, he touches me. Holy mackerel, does he touch me. I gasp as Reid’s long fingers stroke, tease, and bring me to the brink time and time again. Closing my eyes, I surrender to the sensation brought on by this man. Only this man. Lord knows, I’ve tried to move on without him—tried and failed.
Balled energy forms in my stomach, its sparking coils crackling and expanding.
So good.
Rotating my hips, I generate more friction.
Almost there.
I rock them again.
Just a little more.
Crack.
“Stay still.”
I moan. The sound is uncannily similar to a camel being eaten alive by a zombie. No cares given. Desire floods my entrance. Reid swears, coats his fingers in my juices, and thrusts two inside.
“Reid.”
“Yeah, darlin’?” He slowly draws them out, applying sweet torture to my clit with his thumb before thrusting them inside me once again.
“OhmyGod, ohmyGod, ohmyGod.”
Crack.
Moan.
“Whose fingers are fucking your pussy?”
“Yours, Reid,” I gasp. “Yours. Always.”
“That’s fucking right.”
So close.
Light flickers before my eyes. Finally, the orgasm that’s been building peaks. “Reid, I’m going to—”
He removes his fingers.
Reid removes his motherfucking fingers.
There is cold air where his touch once was, distance where his body used to be, and emptiness where my heart previously beat. Tears pool in my eyes.
“You’re not doing anything until I tell you. Understand?”
Choking back a sob, I’m borderline hysterical. “I hate you so much right now.”
Silence.
There’s a heavy thud followed by some low murmuring, but it’s too soft to determine the words. It’s possible Reid dropped to his knees. It doesn’t matter though. His hands caressing my ass and his lips softly worshipping my sensitive skin tell me all I need to know.
I’m sorry.
And with his unspoken declaration, I breathe. My lungs expand and crisp air cleanses my insides, bringing with it the promise of new beginnings.
His fingers spread me open, and with a low groan, he devours me. Heaven. This must be what it’s like to die and go to heaven. The angst disappears. Heck, everything disappears except relief, and pure unadulterated pleasure. I moan.
Reid’s tongue deserves a medal. It deserves a shrine, a day of remembrance so people can pause and reflect on his oral mastery.
He is relentless.
“Reid,” I breathe, cry, and curse over and over again.
“Come. Now.”
Boom.
My world fragments. His name is ripped from my chest like a beating heart. Convulsing around his tongue, I fall harder, further than I ever have before.
I’m still somewhere in between Eden and Nirvana when the unbuckling of a belt, zip of a fly, and crackle of a condom wrapper edge into the periphery of my subconscious. Reid repositions me until both of my knees are on the bed, my ass remaining in the air. It doesn’t bother me. After the orgasm I just had, he can contort me into a one-handed scorpion pose for all I care.
