by Joya Ryan
“When?” He unzipped my short strapless dress and shoved it down leaving me in nothing but my panties.
I kicked off my high heels.
“Fuck, baby,” he growled, cupping my breasts, gently pushing me to sit down on the edge of the bed.
He stood and finished removing his shirt. His eyes were fixated between my legs and he lifted his chin. “Spread those pretty legs.”
I did. He tore at his belt and shed the rest of his clothes in one quick movement.
“Wider,” he barked.
Hitting his knees before me, he scooted between my thighs. He was eye level with my breasts, and with hands splayed over my back, he brought me closer and snaked his tongue over one aching nipple. I moaned and drove my fingers into his hair.
“You taste so good. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” He sucked the rosy peak hard and I arched into him. “You like that?”
I nodded, tightening my grip on the silky strands of his hair.
“What about this?” He circled his tongue around the throbbing bud, lightly teasing and causing my skin to heat and prickle.
“Yes,” I breathed, tugging him closer.
“Oh, you want more?”
“More. Harder…” I pushed my breast farther into his mouth.
“You asked for it.” He bit down on my nipple. A flash of wetness rushed to my pussy. He had me on the edge of coming already.
“Yes!” I gasped. Placing my hands behind me, I leaned back and let him devour me. Only Adam could play my body so well and have me begging for release without even touching below the waist. I felt empty—needed to show him all the passion I was feeling.
“I want to taste you,” I moaned.
He looked up at me and I sat up straight, opening my mouth.
“God damn it you’re gorgeous,” he growled and rose.
He stood between my spread thighs and guided his hard cock between my lips. Keeping my gaze on his, I licked all around the crown, then down the length, and back up again.
He muttered a curse.
“Let me do all the work,” I said. Then with a small smile and final flick of my tongue on the tip, I swallowed him whole.
“Ah—Kate!” His muscles trembled in efforts to keep still while I bobbed up and down, impaling my mouth on him over and over. A low rumble broke from his throat and he gripped my shoulders and gently pushed me away.
“You’re distracting me,” he rasped and hit his knees once more. “I want to know when, Kate.”
He bit my inner thigh then tore my panties away. The sound of lace ripping echoed in the dark room. His breath was hot against my core and I tried rocking my hips, coaxing him to make contact, but he didn’t let me.
“When?” he asked again, terser this time.
“Soon,” I breathed.
Hands on either side of my lap, I gripped the bedding and wiggled my way closer to him, desperately trying to get him to taste me where I wanted most. But he just subtly moved his head and nipped my other thigh.
“You love me,” he stated, the words delivering a puff of air against my hot flesh.
“So much,” I said.
His tongue snapped out, quickly tapping my clit and I gasped. “And you’re wet for me.”
“All the time,” I agreed.
Tap.
“Yet you won’t marry me.”
“I will!”
He sank his tongue inside and I cried out in ecstasy. He delved in and out mercilessly. Throwing my head back, I pushed my hips out to meet every thrust of his amazing tongue.
“When?” he growled again. Trading off between licking my clit then diving back inside was torture. He was purposefully keeping me right on the brink, not allowing me to go over.
“Please Adam,” I begged. My skin was on fire, my veins ready to burst from the pleasure. I loved this man. He was what made sense in my world. What I clung to. What I fought for. He was everything and then, all I wanted was to feel him.
I clawed at his shoulders and scooted up the bed. Lying completely back, I tugged on his arm and he followed me, crawling up my body and cradling himself between my thighs. His hard cock prodded at my entrance and I reached between us to grip him and guide him inside my body.
We sighed in unison. Happy to be connected, because nothing felt so right. My world was complete when he was a part of me.
“Katelyn,” he whispered. Balancing his weight one hand, he cupped my cheek in the other. Slowly rocking his hips, in and out, he kept that ice-blue gaze on me, and slowly rubbed my cheekbone.
His hard chest ran along my sensitive breasts, swollen from his attentions earlier. His skin against mine sparked my nerve like lightning to a lake. Raw energy bubbled beneath the surface and static lust prickled every cell. He retreated so far that only the crown rimmed my opening, then thrust forward, long and hard. Steady and intense. Watching intently as he slowly pushed me over the edge.
Snaking one arm underneath me, his body made full contact with mine, not an ounce of his weight spared. He hugged me close. The power of his hold was almost crushing, suffocating, but I was desperate for more. I wanted to drown in him. Be taken over completely. With every thrust, he delivered dose after dose of pleasure. I let go, trusting him to hang on to me. He wouldn’t let me fall too far and he wouldn’t let go.
Locking my legs around his back I clutched him as tightly as I could. He stayed buried deep within me, circling and stirring, hitting that sensitive spot inside again and again without putting an inch of space between us. No matter where I went or what happened, this—Adam—was my home. My salvation.
“Now,” I whispered.
Pleasure shot through me like a bullet, ripping through my limbs, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Gritting my teeth, I sobbed from the ferocity of my orgasm, spurred on when Adam came, his hot release surging over and over.
Breathing hard, Adam rose up enough to look me in the eyes. I cupped his face in my palms and between gasps for air and a wide smile on my face, I said, “Now. I want to marry you right now.”
***
Several calls, one marriage license and a set of “I do’s” later, I was officially Mrs. Adam Kinkade. Staring out at the clear blue ocean, I watched the sun slowly rise off the coast of Hawaii.
“It’s been a long few days, baby. Come back to bed,” Adam said, walking up behind me. He wrapped his strong arms around my middle and I snuggled into his warmth. With his chin on my shoulder, we both stared at the expanse of water before us, listening to the faintest sounds of waves lapping.
“This is what peace feels like, isn’t it?” I turned my neck enough to face him. He kissed me softly on the lips and like every other time—and likely every time to come for the rest of my life—I melted.
“You are my peace,” he said. “Thank you.” His tone was so quiet, so loving, it brought tears to my eyes. “I know you wanted things to be better and for us to have Simon before we got married, but I promise you, baby,” he kissed me again, “I will make that happen.”
I nodded, because I believed him. Yes, I did want things “better” and I wanted Simon legally. But I wanted Adam too. After seeing my best friend go through what she did, almost lose the man she loved, watching them join their lives together just made sense. I trusted Adam. Everything would be okay. It had to be.
“Do you have regrets?” he asked.
I frowned. “What?”
His body tensed a little around me. “I didn’t give you the big wedding you deserved.”
I laughed. “I just wanted you. Besides—” I turned within his arms and faced him. “Whisking me away to Kauai and getting a private piece of the island all to ourselves is not a bad way to tie the knot.”
“We can still have a wedding. A reception. Anything you want.”
I rested my forehead against his chest. “I just want our lives to finally start.”
Tucking a finger under my chin, he raised my gaze to his. “Mine did, the day I met you.”
The tears I was fighting broke
free. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, wife.” A wide grin split his face and for the rest of my days I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the shockingly sexy sight of Adam Kinkade smiling.
***
After a few days in New York and then Hawaii, I was excited to get back to Chicago. It was nice spending time alone with Adam, but he spent a good chunk of time on the phone in private.
“I have one more surprise for you,” Adam said as the elevator opened to our apartment.
“Kate!” A small voice came from around the corner. Running down the hall and barreling right toward me was Simon.
“Oh, buddy!” I dropped to my knees and caught him in a big hug. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.” He squeezed my neck. “Grandma and Grandpa said I get to live with you now.”
I looked at Adam, then saw Tim’s parents, Shelia and Hank, walk into view smiling.
“I’m sorry I’ve been preoccupied and on the phone a lot the last few days, but,” Adam looked at Simon, “I’ve been working some stuff out.” His eyes were luminous beacons staring down at me. “Tim signed the papers, love.”
My eyes went wide and I hugged Simon closer. “R-really?”
He nodded. “We have temporary full custody. The social worker will be here to check things out next week. Once that’s all squared away, Simon is ours.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. All I could say was thank you. Over and over. Adam ruffled Simon’s hair and I stood. Surrounded by my two men, my life was finally coming together.
“Everything really is going to be okay?” I looked up at the man with the fierce blue eyes that changed my life with one look.
“Yes.” The promise in his deep voice was all the proof I needed that the world finally made sense, and maybe didn’t hurt the way I once thought it did.
“Hello, dear,” Shelia said, and gave me a hug.
“Hi, Sheila how are you two doing?” Though Tim was a sad-sack, his parents were actually really great. They’ve been nothing but supportive through this whole process.
“We’re good,” Sheila said. “That guy of yours sure knows how to make things happen.”
I smiled and looked over my shoulder at Adam. “Yes he does.”
Sheila shook her head, her gray crop cut shuffling along her brow. “I just couldn’t believe it. All the phone calls and work he put in. He really loves you and Simon.”
I never doubted that for a moment. In the middle of Sheila catching me up on the last week’s events, Adam’s cell rang and he took the call, mumbling something I couldn’t understand near the corner of the room.
“Can I go play in my room?” Simon asked. We had a room set up for him complete with toys and decked out in dinosaurs décor since I moved in with Adam last year.
“Of course, sweetie.”
Simon ran to his bedroom and I glanced back at Adam. A stern look crossed his face and he jammed his phone into his pocket.
“Is everything okay?” I asked him.
He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Emma’s in trouble.”
***
Look for Seduce Me Slowly, Emma’s book, coming Fall 2013!
Turn the page to read the first chapter of Break Me Slowly, Adam and Kate’s book.
Chapter One
“You need to breathe, Katelyn, otherwise you’re going to pass out and I sure as hell am not hauling your ass all the way to campus myself.”
I bounced in the four-inch heels, which I’d borrowed from Megan and were a half size too small. The expensive torture devices were currently cutting into my little toe.
“What do you mean, all the way to campus? It’s right across the street.” My order came up and I grabbed my soy latte.
“It’s still too far to drag you.” Megan took a sip of her coffee. Her sun-kissed skin and platinum blond hair made her look more like a beach babe than a city girl. “You just need to take a deep breath…” Megan inhaled deeply and locked her brown eyes on me, expecting me to mimic her. So I sucked a breath in through my nose and released it through my mouth. Every draft of oxygen calmed the familiar hum of anxiety pulsing through my veins.
“Good,” Megan said in a soothing voice she had picked up from all those yoga videos she forced me to watch—and participate in—with her.
Despite making me exercise, she was amazing. Ever since second grade, when Bridget Burgess pushed me off the monkey bars, slinging a string of insults directed at everything from my ratty clothes to my white-trash mother and effectively throwing me into my first panic attack, Megan had stood up for me. From the age of seven, she had always been there, reminding me to breathe and trying her damnedest to keep me from the brink of a meltdown.
“You’re going to be great today, Katelyn. You’re one of the top students in the program and the professor is going to love you.”
“Thanks, Meg.”
We stepped out into the busy downtown Chicago morning. Traffic was booming. The cool September weather was crisp and carried the smells of gasoline and pastries fresh out of the oven. This time of year, when red and yellow leaves blew past the skyscrapers like tiny flecks of paint, was my favorite.
Megan held out her hand. She knew I wasn’t a hugger. People coming into my personal space made me uneasy, no matter how much I trusted them. And there was no one I trusted more than Megan. But having lived for years with my mother’s fists and nails coming at me, I shied away from any physical contact.
Reaching out, I took her hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze. “Remember, if anyone gives you trouble, gets too close, or you feel like you’re on the brink of a panic attack—”
“I know. I need to breathe.”
She nodded. “And if that doesn’t work, you just give their face a high five and run.”
I laughed. Megan wasn’t the only person who knew about my past, but she was the only one who was aware of how it affected me.
“I’ll see you tonight. Good luck!” Megan’s hand slid from mine and she walked toward my uncle’s real estate firm.
We had graduated last summer with our undergrad degrees. Megan now worked for my uncle, Tim St. Roy, while I’d made the choice to return to school and go for my master’s in sociology. Two more years of school and volunteering at the Children’s Home and I’d be on the fast track to being a full-fledged social worker.
With every step, the clicking of my pumps on concrete sent a shiver up my calves. But when my heel got momentarily stuck in a crack in the pavement, I faltered. One of these days I would have to learn to walk in these damn shoes without looking like a stumbling drunk person.
I ran a hand through my red curls, trying to tame them—not working—and continued my trek toward the university.
Graduate school had been tough to get into, but when the opportunity to T.A. for the head of the sociology department opened up, I’d jumped at the chance.
Clutching my coffee, I fished my cell phone out of my purse to check the time—
A horn blared and headlights flashed.
A shriek caught in my throat as I stared down a black town car coming straight at me. Brakes screeched, I jumped, and my coffee tumbled down the front of me.
The car stopped abruptly, just inches from my toes. Air finally found its way from my lungs as I struggled to breathe. Almost being crushed by oncoming traffic was not my ideal way to start the week. I stood dazed in the middle of the street, into which I hadn’t even realized I had walked.
“Are you all right?” The driver stood by his door. He was older and outfitted in a black hat and jacket. The chauffeur.
Looking down at my ruined blouse, I slowly nodded. My knees shook as I made my way back to the sidewalk. Once I stepped up on the curb, my body relaxed a bit. The driver got into the car, pulled up alongside me, and parked.
“Miss?”
Standing outside the back passenger door was a man dressed in a three-piece, steel-gray suit and dark purple tie. His eyes were like frosted ocean w
ater, two icebergs shinning at me.
His black hair was thick and coiffed perfectly in a rugged yet professional way that made my heart beat harder.
The driver stayed behind the wheel this time while the sinfully corporate-looking man walked toward me on the sidewalk. Those intense eyes never left my face.
“You should watch where you’re going.”
“I…” I looked up at him. Even in Megan’s four-inch heels, he towered over me. Jesus, he had to be pushing six-three.
He was close enough that I could smell him. Crisp and clean and amazing. He radiated power and confidence, from his broad shoulders to his lean hips. Who knew suits could look so good on a man. Every stitch molded over him perfectly. His strength was very apparent even through the layers of expensive fabric.
“Are you all right?” His voice was deep, but this time, there was a slight rasp when he spoke.
“I’m fine. Thank you.” A tremor slipped out and coated my voice.
“Can I offer you anything?” He looked down my body. Heat rushed over me. Shifting my weight, I tried to get a grip on my hectic heart rate. I knew I was staring—primarily at his mouth. It was thick and firm.
His gaze slid over me again. When it focused on my breasts, I inhaled sharply. Men had looked at me before, but none as blatantly as this. That heat that was pulsing? It surged so hot that my bloodstream caught fire.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, then realized he was really looking at the soy latte splattered all over the front of me.
Damn!
“I—I’ve got to go. I’m late.” And now I needed to find a new shirt.
Anger decided to spark just then, and irritation that this man—this sexy, sleek man—had interfered and made me feel all…weird.
Even though it was I who had walked into the street—and I who was lingering like a goon, undressing him with my eyes. Still! This morning was turning to hell quickly, and standing in the middle of downtown Chicago looking like a rumpled mess and being stared down by Mr. GQ was not helping.
“I must insist on giving you a ride.”
I glared at him. Hating how cool and calm he was. Hating that he was standing there like chiseled perfection while my hair was frizzing by the second and the sugar from my coffee was sticking to my chest. A moment ago I had been keenly aware of all his earth-shattering attributes. I had never paid any man such attention before. But that was drowned out by the awareness of my own shortcomings and general lack of grace.
