The Titan Was Tall (Triple Threat Book 1)
Page 9
Red’s lips were hot against the shell of her ear. “Now we’re fine,” he said.
Piper opened her mouth, but her vaunted eloquence failed her utterly. Red didn’t appear to mind—he simply put his tongue where her reply should’ve been, and teased hers into a dance.
He set a slow pace at first, moving in long, careful, maddening strokes that wound her desire into a tight, needy coil within her.
“Doing okay?” he wondered eventually.
“I need—” Piper tried. “I need…”
He knew. Oh, yes, Red knew what she needed. His pace quickened then, the flexing of his hips coming faster and stronger.
“…that. Yes, that,” she moaned.
Red chuckled, smug and satisfied above her.
“Come on, honey,” he urged. “Come for me.”
The command in his voice was a dark seductive thrill. She wanted to do what he requested. Piper wanted to satisfy his every bossy demand—and then do it all over again.
She wrapped her legs around Red’s hips, kissed him back with a desperation she wouldn’t have thought possible, and shattered apart in his arms.
Her real life seemed to have gotten mixed up with the imaginary, panting products of her creative mind. Piper couldn’t say she minded. When Red’s thrusts grew erratic, when he arched up, threw his head back, and climaxed with a long, tortured groan—she decided reality could take a hike. She was staying right where she was, thank you very much.
EIGHT
PIPER WOKE TO the sound of Red’s phone alarm chiming on the nightstand. Her hotel room was very dark, only one shaft of light from the bathroom keeping it from complete blackness. Red’s heavy arm was slung across her middle, and his warm breath stirred the hair on top of her head.
Piper stroked his forearm lightly. He made a deep sound of contentment in response, then pressed the hot, bare length of his body along her back—some parts of which were more interesting than others.
Outside her room, a housekeeping cart squeaked down the hallway and was followed by the hum of an industrial vacuum moving over the carpet. Red turned off his phone and groaned, hunching closer.
“I don’t suppose we could convince them to bring us coffee?” His voice sounded rough in her ear. Sexy.
“Doubtful,” Piper said. “Besides, they probably need it even more than we do.”
His large hand traveled up and down her flank, then began tracing feather-light patterns around her navel.
“Coffee may have to wait,” he murmured, gripping her hip and flexing his body against hers.
“Said no one ever.”
But then Red rolled Piper onto her back and his talented fingers continued their distracting ministrations. His even more talented tongue joined the party. She had no clue how much time passed before either of them spoke after that—it could have been five minutes or five hours. Who cared?
“All those in favor of caffeine, say aye,” he eventually rumbled near her ear, startling her out of the blissful doze she was drifting in.
“Oh! Aye!” Piper pried her eyes open and shot one shaky arm straight up in the air, and then the other. “Me, me!”
“No, no,” Red admonished. “No double voting. We run an honest operation here.” He pried himself away from her and stood with purpose, despite his total lack of clothing. He looked around.
“Now then. There doesn’t seem to be a coffee maker in here. So, point me toward the lobby and I will return bearing gifts.”
“Gah. I’m a terrible hostess,” Piper muttered into her pillow. When Red laughed at her, she burrowed deeper under the cozy covers. Let him find his own chipper way to the lobby.
“Really? I thought you were very accommodating. But I was rude and exhausted you, didn’t I? Poor baby. That probably wasn’t very sporting of me.” Red fished around on the floor. When he found his pants, he pulled them on. Piper peeked out from behind her arm, admiring the fine display of his rear end and muscled back.
“You don’t have to sound so proud of yourself.”
“I beg your pardon. I exerted a lot of effort just now. I’m very proud.”
Piper poked her arm out and swiped at him, but Red danced handily backward. How in the hell could he be so damn cheerful? She was certain they hadn’t slept for more than four hours, at the most.
She growled in annoyance.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” Red laughed, threw on his shirt, and headed for the door. “Get dressed, or you’ll miss your flight.”
“Please inform your evil assistant that I despise him and his crack-of-dawn travel arrangements.”
“I’ll do no such thing. I like my henchmen good and mean, and finding Wayne was like hitting the lottery.”
She sighed dejectedly. “You two are probably perfect for each other.”
“Get your sweet ass out of that bed, Piper, or I’ll drink all your coffee before I get back.”
“Oh, my God. Why don’t you go kick some puppies while you’re at it? It’s your freaking fault I have to rush, now!”
Red just grinned and waltzed out the door.
THE ONLY REASON he’d gotten Piper to the airport in time for her flight was that most of the city—along with the sun—was still asleep. The streets had been as empty as they ever got, though Red wouldn’t have complained if they’d gotten stuck in some gridlock and Piper had to stay longer.
Piper was not a morning person. She was groggy and grouchy the entire way, only relenting once Red bent down to brand her with another searing kiss beside the security line. Then, Piper turned sweetly, cutely loopy, and that look on her face was still making him smile by the time he got home. Red scrapped playing it cool and texted her. Have a safe trip.
Piper responded immediately with a kiss-blowing emoji, and Red went about his business, more satisfied than he’d been in ages.
But later that afternoon, once he judged enough time had passed, he was ready for another fix. Did you get home okay?
She sent him a thumbs-up, and then Piper went dark again.
Red gave her twenty-four hours to get settled in and take care of whatever she needed to back home. He tried not to get frustrated that Piper wasn’t striking up a rousing thread of sexting with him, or even calling to chat. When had he become such a needy prick, anyway? There were probably women all over this island who would gloat like crazy about it.
On Monday morning, Red managed to sit through his usual round of meetings about the week ahead, before he finally surrendered and pulled out his phone. I really enjoyed our dinners.
Same! Piper fired back with a smiley face.
Nothing prevented him from kicking off the sexting. Almost as much as I enjoyed what came after.
Those crappy blinking dots popped up while she typed, stopped, and typed again. Now the fun would start, Red was sure of it. But all that came through was another grinning emoji and two short words. Also same.
Red studied that for a bit, sent Piper a gif of a puppy licking a cat (perhaps a bit too enthusiastically), and decided to leave her be.
He lasted one day. One. On Tuesday, Red conjured up some completely unnecessary meetings in D.C., which was supposedly close to Piper’s home, and arranged for the jet to take him down there in a couple of days.
So far, so good. He only ran into a snag when every hotel northwest of the city turned out to be booked for the weekend. But no matter—Piper might have an idea of what to do. ETA Thurs pm. Staying in DC that nite. More mtgs early Fri. *Need rec 4 hotel near u for Fri + Sat nites*
Great! she replied, about an hour later. I’ll look around and get back to you!
Except then she didn’t. When Red hadn’t heard back by Wednesday, he decided Piper might need a little reminder. He thought about calling, but…damn it, it felt like this was turning into some kind of weird power play.
Is this the longest week ever? Can’t wait to see you, he typed. He stared at the words for a bit, considering them. Finally, Red deleted the second sentence, then hit send.
The next morning at the hangar, he pondered whether he was about to make a huge mistake. Maybe Piper was simply busy, though. She had a new series to write, and a new contract to sift through. She probably had other things to do, as well.
She might have friends she needed to catch up with, or a family member to care for. Maybe she had a dog who needed surgery or short-term memory loss. Perhaps Piper just wasn’t tied to her phone, like so many other people Red knew.
Maybe he’d botched everything, and she was not into him in the least. Landed at Dulles. Here goes nothing, he texted later that morning.
Shoot. Piper replied. Nearby hotel is being renovated!
Information that might have been useful days ago. Red made a quick call to the place he was staying in town but came up empty. Current hotel booked for a conference, he wrote.
Piper said, Okay, let me think. She came back ten minutes later. So…you know that adage about early birds and worms?
Red rolled his eyes.
It’s ok! I have a solution! Piper told him.
He regarded his screen, mulling that over. So far, he’d been underwhelmed by her excitement at seeing him again, as well as her planning skills.
He tapped out, ???
Stay with me, came quickly back. Now that was something Red hadn’t expected. No way would Piper offer it if she weren’t into him.
Still, just to be sure, he typed, Seriously??
Piper asked, Too weird?
No. Sounds perfect. If ur sure ur ok with it. Red could almost hear Piper’s exasperation from the back of the airport limo ferrying him to his first meeting.
Well, r u planning on killing me and sticking me in my freezer? she demanded.
Red felt lighter than he had in days. As it turns out, I’ve never enjoyed popsicles.
Piper was as tart as ever. That’s not a no.
Yes, it is, Red grinned. Then, Text me your address. I’ll drive out tomorrow afternoon.
He left Piper to her own devices then, but allowed himself one more message during a break between meetings the following day. WILL THESE PEOPLE NEVER STOP TALKING?
Piper sent back a laughing face and the words, Take your time, big guy. I’ll be here.
RED ARRIVED AT Piper’s later than he intended that evening—and much later than he’d wanted. His meetings had run long and then the rush hour heading out of D.C. was ghastly, but that was possibly because he’d been working under the presumption that nothing could be as bad as the traffic he was used to in Manhattan.
When he finally pulled into the driveway of her pretty farmhouse, set on a nice piece of property far out in the ’burbs, Red only had a few minutes to get out, stretch his legs, and pull his briefcase out of the back of his rental before Piper was opening her front door and stepping onto the porch.
He drank in his first sight of her in casual clothes—jeans, bare feet, and a loose black top drifting off one shoulder. Her yard was mostly quiet, with only the sounds of cicadas buzzing in the grass, and a lone bird chirping in a tree.
The sun was almost down. Piper’s smile lit up the twilight.
Red popped the trunk and pulled out his overnight bag, then stepped toward her. How had he made it the whole week with almost no contact? All his pent-up frustration and want swirled around in his chest and threatened to consume him.
“You made it!” she exclaimed.
“Barely,” he said. “Sorry I’m so late.” Red forced himself to take the stairs at a normal pace. Otherwise, he’d be leaping up them and pulling her right into a soul-stealing lip-lock…which Piper was likely to find a touch overeager.
“I hope everything went okay?”
“It was fine. Just the usual back and forth. Everything took twice as long as it should have, including the drive out here.”
An unbelievable scent was drifting from the front door behind her. Red wasn’t entirely sure whether he’d rather stare more at Piper or follow his nose to her kitchen.
“Come on in,” she instructed, stepping aside.
Before she could say anything else, though, he blurted, “God, did you cook? It smells incredible in there.”
“I thought you might be hungry. It seemed like you were having a long day.”
“You have no idea. And…” Red thought hard but came up blank. “I don’t think I’ve had anything since coffee in my room about twelve hours ago.”
Piper gaped at him.
“Seems worth it though, since now I’ve stepped into heaven. Gorgeous woman bearing food? How lucky am I right now?”
“Ha,” she deflected. And then, very efficiently, she added, “Let me show you where to drop your things. Do you want a few minutes to get settled before we eat?” No hug. No kiss. Not even a goddamn handshake.
Red narrowed his eyes. Piper was doing an extremely good job of acting like he was her buddy—and not the man who’d had her panting his name mere days before.
That was not going to work. Not one bit.
SHE POURED HIM a drink while she finished cooking dinner. Much like their first meeting, she’d managed to work one small, sexy flourish into her appearance—this time in the form of short, perfectly-practical nails done up in a glittering gold polish. Red tried not to imagine the way they’d look against his cock and failed miserably. Solid gold, baby.
She wrested him from his daydream with a sudden question.
“Hey, can you eat things made in the same facility as peanuts?” she inquired, frowning down at a box of croutons in her hand.
The fact that she’d not only remembered his allergy but appeared to know what to do about it, twisted something even tighter inside Red’s chest.
“Nope,” he replied, watching to see what she did next.
Piper dropped the croutons in the trash. “Then we should be good to go,” she smiled. “Not even a glimmer of a nut in sight.”
Besides the ones attached to his body, Red amended silently, and those very much wanted a viewing.
Piper handed him the salad bowl, then led him into the adjoining dining room, where the table was already set. She was chatting amiably about the miserable traffic in the area and how nice the weather was supposed to be that weekend.
Traffic. And the weather, for Christ’s sake. Red might as well be visiting his grandmother.
He couldn’t be positive, but Red suspected he was witnessing one heck of a smokescreen. Piper was putting up an excellent front, and if Red hadn’t already slept with her, he might have even believed it. But the more Piper rambled, the more convinced he became that the woman serving him dinner was nervous as fuck.
And only a woman who cared very much about how this visit was going to go would bother with that emotion.
The moment Red’s ass hit his chair, he noticed the background music. Quiet, sexy jazz snaked around them. He itched to ditch the food—delicious, though it was—and grab Piper so they could slow dance in the middle of her living room. He wondered if the effect was intentional.
The track changed, and he froze with his fork halfway to his mouth, glancing up at her. Raising her eyebrows, Piper smiled back at him.
“Marvin Gaye?” he inquired.
“Mm-hm!” she nodded cheerfully, pleased with his musical acumen.
Ah. Definitely intentional, then. Red doubted it was dancing Piper was angling for, though. The question was, what was he going to do about it? She’d basically ignored him for the last few days.
The fork continued its journey to his mouth, and Red studied his plate while he chewed. He felt Piper’s eyes studying him.
After a few minutes, her natural curiosity won out. “Do you like it?”
He swallowed and forced his gaze back to her, already knowing what he’d see. That boxy, loose-fitting black shirt she wore, made from some insidiously filmy, silky kind of material. It had short sleeves and a wi
de neck and kept slipping off one of her shoulders—and the skin revealed there was scattered with the kind of freckles she’d probably gotten from being in the sun. They were driving Red berserk with lust.
He swallowed again, but it didn’t clear the tightness in his throat. “Which one?” he croaked. “The music or the food?”
Piper looked puzzled, and then uncertain.
“Either?”
Red pressed his palms to the table beside his plate, willing himself to stay put. It didn’t work.
“Fuck it,” he muttered and pushed to his feet. His chair squeaked across the wood floor, and Piper jumped.
In two steps, he reached her, grabbed her hand, and yanked her up into his embrace. Her arms wound around his waist willingly, and her hands came to rest on his lower back, warming his skin through his dress shirt. Red gripped Piper close, threading his fingers into her hair.
He growled against her lips, “Yes.” One light kiss, then a second. “I love the food.” A third, harder kiss, because she tasted salty and delicious. “And I love the music.” Red swayed a little with her, faintly approximating dancing. But who was he kidding? He just wanted to hold the woman.
“Then what’s wrong?” Piper whispered.
Red cupped her face with one hand, and molded the other around her perfect ass, pressing her body even closer.
“You were too damn far away,” was about the most coherent he could get.
Piper blinked faster, assimilating that. “Not anymore.” She was melting against him, a soft, feminine armful of sweetness.
“Yes,” he grumbled. “Still.” He’d intended another light, restrained kiss. But Piper tried to say something else, and when his lips reached her mouth, it was open for him.
All hell broke loose. Red didn’t know whose tongue got there first, but instantly they were sliding against each other and there wasn’t anything restrained about the way he wanted to inhale the woman. So much for manners.
Eventually, they managed to come up for air. Piper seemed like herself again.
“Hi,” Red murmured softly.