Bad-ass art aside, there was nothing else in the room. Not even a TV. I couldn’t tell if it looked all cool and minimalist, or if Meredith would take one look at my room and think I was some kind of psycho for having zero possessions.
Shaking my head, I stripped off my clothes, tossing the suit in the laundry basket shoved into my closet, left my chest binder on, and threw on a white ribbed tank and pair of basketball shorts. I needed a shower, but I wasn’t about to wander around in a fucking towel while Victor’s ass was hanging around.
My door opened, and Meredith walked in wearing a pair of my old silkies—the green booty shorts Marines had once worn during PT—and a black tank top. It was too small for her, so her breasts were straining against the stretchy fabric.
“Really?” I asked, not hiding the way I was looking her up and down. “Really, Meredith?”
“What?” She tossed her clothes in a careless pile by the window and tied her hair back in a loose ponytail. “You said I could borrow something.”
“You’re a walking thirst trap.”
A gleam shone in her eyes, but she just rolled her shoulders and moved closer to my bed. Her hair still reached almost to her ass. When she walked, the tip swung like a pendulum right at the small of her back. She was clearly trying to hypnotize me into bad decisions.
“It’s disgustingly hot, and you’re surviving on fans. It was this or the boob tape and thong I was wearing under my dress. Your choice, T.”
The other option sounded pretty damn great.
“I don’t know how people wear thongs,” I said, sitting at the head of the bed with my legs sprawled in front of me. “I could barely stand those fucking silkies. I felt like my ass was out.”
“There’s nothing else I could wear under that dress that wouldn’t show.” Despite all her brash talk, Meredith lingered at the edge of the bed like a nervous cat before climbing in beside me. She extended her long legs and crossed them at the ankles. “I thought you were taller than me.”
I shot her an incredulous look. “How? You’re tall as fuck.”
“I dunno. You just . . . seem bigger than you are? Like your presence or something.” A flush rose up her neck, spreading onto her cheeks. So pretty and kissable, I had to ball my hands in the sheet to keep from putting my hands on her. “Look, these are the things I think about.”
“My presence?”
“Yes.” She inched closer to me and rested her head on my shoulder. “I told you, there’s something about you. Even before the dressing room incident, I was kind of obsessed.”
She smelled like heaven and her skin was silk under my callused hands. She probably needed the kind of gentle treatment I couldn’t give, but she was panting for it anyway. When I sank my teeth into the side of her neck and slid my arm around her front, fingers sliding down into her underwear, she moaned so loud everyone in the studio likely heard the throaty sound.
“I want you so bad,” she whispered. “You don’t understand how much you turn me on.”
I licked the place I’d bitten, hoping there would be a mark, and rubbed her clit faster. My fingers circled that spot as she trembled, and I pressed myself against her back tighter when the heat between her thighs grew slicker.
“Don’t stop,” she said, a desperate edge working into her voice. “Make me come.”
“Then get on the table. And spread your legs.”
“We should call your brother. And the number on that card.”
Meredith sighed. “Can’t I just be here with you without involving other people?”
“Yes, but you need to report that this is connected to the harassment, and you also need to tell your brother to give the rest of the staff a heads-up that there are people stalking employees with the intent to harm them.”
“Oh fuck.”
Meredith was crawling to the edge of the bed in an instant, and reaching for the phone in her bag as she leaned forward on her hands and knees. The hem of the silkies rode up, showing the curve of her ass. I wanted to press my face against it, lick her every single place that mattered, then shove my tongue deep into her.
Was it normal to be this horny in the middle of an emergency? I legitimately had no frame of reference for this, but my concern about the safety of her and the QFindr staff wasn’t taking away from the fact that the sight of her ass in the air had me clenching and wet.
Rubbing my hands over my face, I slid down until I was on my back, and tried to think about something else. Like the fact that two men had tracked Meredith down, and one of them was still out there. That it was starting to look like a hate crime. That the media would turn it all into a circus.
And beyond that, Victor was back in town, staying in my apartment, and giving off the vibes of a reformed dick-bag criminal. I needed to talk to Stephanie about what was going on. The boy had been a total hellion, and their lack of functioning parents had created a situation where she’d been the one in charge of wrangling him. And he’d given her hell.
But on the opposite side of the token, he’d defended her fiercely. They were both pretty ride or die when it came to standing up for each other, even if he’d always done something stupid to bring her nothing but stress.
The apartment was quiet, so maybe he’d gone out with Angel to give me and Meredith some privacy. If they were that thoughtful, I’d be shocked.
“Are you going to tell Dad?”
The way she’d said Dad pricked my ears. I sat up, looking down at the long stretch of her body lying flat against my bed with her face turned to the side so she could hold the phone. The relaxation of only a few minutes ago had gone, and she was tight with tension. Without thinking about it, I ran my fingers along her spine, then repeated the motion in a slow caress.
“Yeah, I’m listening,” she said haltingly. “I just don’t see the point.” Another pause, a low sigh, then, “Okay. I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner.” There was a longer pause before Meredith said, “I’m in Queens. With Tonya. She’s taking good care of me, Caycay.”
After a second, Meredith ended the call after a sincere-sounding “I love you too,” and tossed the phone onto the floor. She rolled onto her back, and my hand wound up resting against her stomach.
“Is it okay to call you ‘she’? I should have asked.”
I dragged my fingers along her stomach, pressing down lightly before dragging them up again. She didn’t react, but her body was thrumming. “I can go either way.”
“No preference at all?” she asked.
“No. I’m good. If I feel disrespected, you know I’d let you know.”
Mere nodded slowly, her eyes going hooded. “Right. You’d just walk out of the room and ignore me.”
My mouth quirked, but I didn’t take the bait. “Following Steph’s and Chris’s lead is a safe bet in general. I’ve been friends with Chris since he, Ray, and I were little.”
“And Stephanie?” Her tongue swept out, dampening her lower lip. “When did you two get close?”
“Junior high. We used to make out in the locker room at school, and the other girls would watch.”
“That’s all? Preteen smooches?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “I heard otherwise . . .”
“We used to play around some. Experimenting.” Which was partially how Victor had gotten all up in my grill one day about a decade ago. I’d slept at her house after a rough night at my own, and he’d walked in on a hard-core finger-banging session. He’d dragged me out of the bed, accused me of trying to turn his sister into a lesbian, and I’d brawled with him. Then Ray had shown up and had round two. “We always got caught, so we quit it. It was just for fun, anyway.”
She nodded slowly, eyes narrowed, and I could almost see what she was thinking. Maybe wondering if Stephanie was my type. Visually, the only thing they had in common was height. She was tall, thin, pale, but with a sun-kissed tan, and had gold hair. Stephanie was tall, curvy, dark-haired, and the same bronze skin as her idiot brother.
“What did Caleb say?”
Mere seemed to snap out of her thoughts, and frowned. “Stavros had already filled him in. My phone was turned down, so I didn’t see the million calls Caleb had made to me after we got off the train. He was worried sick, and said we all need to meet ASAP to get a more intense security plan in action.” Another of those long pauses, like she was thinking of what to say and how to say it to avoid a response she didn’t want. “He was relieved I’m with you.”
My brows shot up. “Why’s that? He doesn’t know me. He barely knows anyone in my area code.”
“He knows enough.” There was some fire in her when she said that, like she couldn’t stand for anyone to even imply anything bad about her brother. “He loves Chris. Like adores him.”
“The only people who don’t adore Chris are the kind of people who hate kittens.”
“So, monsters, then,” Mere said, choking on a laugh.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“I’m sure he’ll love being compared to a kitten.”
He’d fucking hate it, but I’d grown up with him acting as my walking, talking Chester Bear, keeping me warm and comforting me even before I’d realized I’d gone cold enough to shatter into splintering pieces.
“What else did Caleb say about me? You’re holding back.”
Mere ran her tongue over her lower lip. “He suggested I ask if I can stay for the weekend. Here. With you. To lay low until the other guy is caught. He thinks you’ll watch out for me.”
“‘Lay low,’” I repeated. “He used that phrase?”
“Yeah, well, you see, my big bro is kind of a dork.”
I smiled. Not even one of my shitty ones. A big smile, one just for her and her dorky brother, because seeing her talk about him was sweeter than I’d expected. And it didn’t fit the image I’d crafted in my mind, no matter how many times Stephanie had sung her praises.
“You can stay here and lay low.” An image popped into my mind. Early-morning rays of sunlight already suggesting another satanically hot day, my internal alarm clock jolting me awake and finding all those long willowy limbs twined with my sinewy ones. Her hair everywhere, our sweat causing skin to slide together. Her breasts pressed against my side, because she’d undoubtedly curl into me and I always slept on my back. “I’ll sleep on the pullout in the living room.”
“Isn’t that guy sleeping in there?”
I cast a baleful glare at the door. Fucking Victor.
“I’ve slept on worse places than my own floor.”
“Floor?” Meredith stared at me, astonished. “T, are you that scared of my pussy?”
Choking on another startled laugh, I shoved one of her knees.
“Well, if you’re not scared, then we’re sharing this bed.” She raised her eyebrows in a challenge, but it wasn’t that coy taunting shit again. It was more like a dare to come up with a rational suggestion. An impossible request. Everything that sprung to mind, including leaving my own apartment to sleep at Ray and David’s, was ridiculous, since I was supposed to be . . . taking care of her. An idea that made me feel things I seriously had no business feeling, considering the massive brush-off I’d given her not five hours ago.
“I have a suggestion.”
“This should be stunning,” I said dryly.
“You bet your sweet ass it is.” She extended her legs, and the silkies slid further up her thighs. “How about this—we fuck right now, get it out of our system, and then we move on?”
The glance I gave her was mean. I knew it even before she flinched and looked away, temporarily flailing in rejection.
“Is that how it usually works for you?” I asked. “Fuck someone enough times to quench your thirst and move on?”
“Well, T, not all of us can move on after a little finger fuck. Some of us aren’t machines.”
My ego rose up, ready to fight. I leaned closer, and put a hand on her thigh. My fingers brushed the inside, soft skin over sleek muscle.
“A ‘little finger fuck,’ huh? You gushed all down your thighs and all over my hand, ma. I could smell you on me for the whole train ride home.”
Meredith swallowed hard, but didn’t look away. She wet her lips again, a nervous gesture more than one meant to tempt me, but it did anyway. Now that it was all in the air, that the memories were rushing back in full video instead of sporadic bursts, I couldn’t stop thinking of things I’d do to her if I gave in. If I tried to “get her out of my system.”
“If you think I came hard from your fingers,” she said softly, looking at me from under her lashes, “imagine how wet I’d get from your tongue.”
The words hung in the air like a magic spell, slowly infiltrating my armor and seeping into every pore until the wick on my desire ignited. I shifted on the bed, half straddling her legs as I finally allowed myself to blatantly feast on her body. She was showing a lot of smooth tanned skin, but there was still so much I hadn’t seen.
Her nipples. Her belly button. The stay nasty tattoo an ex-boyfriend had told a tabloid she had on her pelvis. The glistening pink between her lower lips.
Mere started to speak, probably to say something obnoxious that would obliterate the humidity of our combined lust, so I pressed the rough tip of my index finger against her mouth. She exhaled against it, her breath warm and damp, and shivered when I moved the digit lower. Increasing the pressure, I dragged my finger down her chin, along her throat, and to the collar of the borrowed tank top. I tugged sharply, just enough to see the tops of her breasts and kept pulling until the deep cuts of the arm openings gathered in the middle to reveal the curved sides.
Meredith shifted under me, already undulating at the slow tease of being exposed, and groaned softly when I hooked my pinkie and thumb in the material on each side. The tank top bunched in the middle of her torso, revealing each breast fully. Her nipples were deliciously hard, protruding out, all waiting to be tasted.
I leaned closer for a lick, got addicted to that one taste, and then sucked hard.
Mere’s hand rose to toy with her other nipple, writhing against the air like the stifling heat in the room would give her some relief, but she bit back the sounds straining against her mouth. I could still hear them though—aborted moans and husky sighs.
I surveyed her body again, and my breath came faster. She was flushed all over, and her lips were parted as she gazed up at me with eyes already dilated and wild with lust. She’d slid her legs up the bed and bent them at the knee, spreading wide and offering what she knew I wanted. What she wanted me to touch.
As hungry as I was, I could wait. We could both wait. Getting her out of my system meant I needed to do everything I’d fantasized about in the past year—after every event when we’d shared breathing space, and I’d forced myself to ignore her eye-fucks and heated glares.
Leaving the tank top trapped between her breasts, I slid my hand down to the flimsy green material of her borrowed silkies and gathered them in my fist. They pulled taut, pressing against her sex.
“So wet already.” I pulled tighter, eliciting a sharp gasp. “I can see it through the shorts.”
“Tonya,” she said roughly. “I—”
Whatever she’d been about to say transformed into a loud appreciative moan when I bunched the material of the shorts the way I had her shirt. The crotch bunched between her pussy lips, causing the material to get wetter as I dragged it along her slit.
“Oh fuck.” Mere eased onto her back, her hair fanning out as she reached back blindly to grab the foot of the bedframe with one hand. She clutched one of her breasts with the other, running her thumb over her nipple. “God, Tonya.”
That voice. That throaty voice all wrecked with lust and saying my name . . . It took a lot not to just shove my face between her thighs and stay awhile. Take my time with that delicious meal. But I didn’t. Instead, I dragged the twisted fabric of the silkies along her slit, feeling my lips part and my breath quicken the wetter the fabric got. When they were drenched, along with my fingers, I shoved the fabric to the side an
d leaned forward.
“Lick me,” she pleaded. “Please?”
“Not yet.”
“When?”
“When you’re a complete fucking mess.”
Meredith shuddered violently, arching up again, but she went to pieces once I pressed my index and middle finger to her clit. I rubbed them over the little nub, in a slow tease at first, and then faster once she began writhing in earnest. I panted harshly, mouth ajar, looking between her pussy and her face. She’d tilted her head back and was squeezing her breasts, mouth gaping as she tensed up.
“Yeah,” I whispered, transfixed by that beautiful face creased in ecstasy. I knelt between her spread thighs and slid two fingers inside of her, pushing them in as far as I could reach while using my other hand to torment her clit, rubbing faster. “You’re so hot like this, Meredith. When you’re so fucking turned on you can’t run your mouth.”
She made some sound then, maybe it was supposed to be a word, but it was more like a guttural exclamation. Oh yeah, she was close. Her body jolted and her hands flung out, making to push up, maybe even pull away, but she didn’t. Even as her thighs began to tremble like it was too close. Too much.
I flicked my eyes between her sex and her sweat-covered body. The sheen of dampness on her skin caused the stay nasty tattoo to gleam in the low lamplight.
“Tonya—” She spilled over my fingers. The shocked cry she released had to be heard on Sutphin Boulevard, but I didn’t stop. I kept fingering her, loving the sloppy sound of my fingers in all that wetness, and loving how loud she got. “Oh fuck,” she wailed. “Oh my God.”
Her thighs clenched together as she returned from that high, and she flopped back against the bed. She sucked in deep breaths, her stomach caving in with each inhale, and lay there like she was dying. Or like she’d died. She only moved again to kick off the soaked silkies. The tank stayed on, but it was twisted around and clinging to her torso and breasts.
I sat back on my haunches, sucking my fingers clean, and watched her from beneath my lashes. She did the same. The crackle between us had me sweating, a trickle down my spine, my shirt sticking to my skin and my basketball shorts damp everywhere but especially between my thighs.
Citywide Page 15
