He glanced at her, then toward the door when he heard a noise. He watched as people passed by the window, and suddenly he hated that anyone could stop and look and watch what was going on. Not that they’d be able to hear what was going on, but he never liked people watching him. Judging him.
Stalking to the door, he didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath from Susan, as if she thought he was walking out on her. Not this time.
He twisted the lock on the door and then slammed the blinds down, taking a few tries before the window on the door was covered properly.
“I hate having an audience.” He turned back toward her.
“I’m pretty sure nobody would’ve stopped to stare.”
“Maybe not. But I hate having an audience.”
She looked confused. “We’re not doing anything but talking.”
“For now.”
She backed away. The back of her legs hit her chair, which then hit the filing cabinet behind it. “What did you want to talk about?”
With quick, long strides, he made it to her side. He didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her waist. The tension running through his veins settled instantly. He felt like he found his home. “Us.”
“Us? What—”
“Don’t finish that sentence if you’re about to say what us. There is an us. There is something here.”
“I was going to ask what happened today with Sauer. There’s too much stuff hanging in the air. I can’t think about any kind of us without it cleared.”
His grip tightened around her waist. It’s not as if he knew he could keep her there forever, but he suddenly dreaded the moment when she would push him away.
“You have to start talking to me. You have to stop using your fists.”
“I rarely do.”
“Yeah, except the first time you served a year in prison for it. And this time…you hit a cop, Stitch. I haven’t talked to Sauer, but he could charge you, you know that, right?”
It never crossed his mind. Thinking back to the conversation with Deena earlier, she never brought it up either. Which made him think Sauer wasn’t going to do that. But if he did, oh well. There was nothing he could do about it. Did he regret hitting him? No. The only thing he regretted was Susan hating him.
She shivered in his arms. He couldn’t tell if that was a good sign or not. He didn’t like that he couldn’t decipher it. Bringing one hand up to brush across her cheek, the other still wrapped tightly around her waist, he could only stare at the beauty in his arms.
Her hair was in her usual simple ponytail. He ached to take it down, see her lying in his bed, her hair fanned out across his pillow. Later. Much later he would do just that.
“You know I’d never lay a finger on you. I might take a swing at some asshole, but I’d never hit you. Never.”
“I do believe that. But why do you have to hit anybody?”
Good question. Sometimes he couldn’t control it. Especially when he felt threatened. Sauer had been a threat to him and his relationship with Susan.
“I’m…” The words clogged and stalled. So he tried clearing his throat. “I’m…”
A tiny grin appeared. “Yes? You’re…what?”
He chuckled. “Sorry.”
A full bout of laughter fell from her lips. “I’m so proud of you. Did the world crack open? Did you fall into the pits of hell? But what are you sorry for?”
“Damn, shorty, do you have to drag me through the mud here? I said the words.”
“Maybe I need to hear why. A lot of whys from your life.”
Walking forward, he pinned her between the desk and his body. “I’m sorry for hurting you when I hit Sauer.”
“But not the actual hitting part.”
He shrugged. “I’ll never lie to you, Suzey baby. I can’t be sorry about that. He deserved it. He made me…this talking shit is overrated.”
“He made you what?”
Leaning his forehead against hers, he hated to voice it. He hated to lay out his feelings like a painter showing their love on canvas.
Her delicate hand reached up and brushed a lock of his hair back, then slid down his cheek and held its position. Her soft touch, in such simple movements, gave him strength he didn’t think he otherwise would’ve had.
His voice lowered to a whisper. “He made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of you. And maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m not good enough for you. I haven’t been good enough for anyone in my life. I feel like I’ve always failed people who should’ve been able to count on me. My best friend Stu. Dead and gone. I could’ve saved him if I could’ve talked him out of the lifestyle he was dragging us into. Clarissa. I still have yet to save her. She’s a walking disaster. I’m a disaster. My life looks like it’s screwed on tight, but it’s far from perfect. I’m not perfect. I’ll never be perfect. I am who I am, and all I have to offer you is me. Bullshit parts and all. You deserve better than that, and I’m selfish enough not to care. I want you, and only you.”
Her hands grasped his cheeks, forcing him to lift his head and look her in the eyes. “That is the most honest and real thing a man has ever said to me. You can’t save everyone. It’s not your job. It’s not something that has to define you. Do you think my life is perfect? My parents are divorced, and visiting either one of them is like walking on eggshells because they still can’t stand each other. I have a bunch of superficial friends from college, and I haven’t spoken to anyone from high school in ages. The only people that really matter are the ones I spend every Friday night with having drinks and talking girl talk. My job hasn’t held the same appeal lately, and I feel like I might need a change. I’m lost in what direction to go, and the only thing that has been keeping me sane, as crazy as it may sound, is you. You’re my perfect disaster.”
His lips tipped up into a grin. A grin that said more than any words he could think to say. This was the first time they were both open and honest. Putting out all the shit he never wanted to talk about. He hated every second of it, but he also loved every part.
His eyes glided to her lips. Her sweet, delectable lips that turned him on with one simple look.
“You know, I’ve never kissed you.”
She giggled, as her hands fell from his cheeks and down to his waist. “You kiss me all the time.”
His grip intensified on her waist as he pulled her closer, his hard dick throbbing against her. She felt right and delicious and perfectly made for him.
Then his mouth touched her neck with a soft kiss. “I’ve kissed you there.” He made a path to her ear. “And here.” He pulled off her shirt with one swift move and clamped his mouth over her nipple covered by a black lacy bra. “This is one of my favorite areas to kiss.” His eyes tilted down to where she was pressed firmly against him. “And, of course, I love to devour you down there. That’s where I’ve kissed you.” Then he met her eyes. “But I’ve never kissed you on the lips.”
Her eyes look confused, as if she were tumbling around her memories for that one time he kissed her on the lips. Perhaps even just a small peck. A graze. A simple touch of mouth to mouth and then done.
She wouldn’t be able to recall any because he never had. It wasn’t something he did. He loved to kiss a woman. Anywhere but the lips. Kissing on the lips signified deep feelings. An intimacy he was never willing to share with a woman. He had never kissed Clarissa on the lips. Call him crazy or dumb or a guy who needed to lose his man card, but he didn’t kiss a woman on the lips unless she meant something to him. He had yet to meet a woman who made him feel like she was more than a scratch to itch.
Until Susan.
“So…kis—”
His lips slammed down hard upon hers. He didn’t ask permission to enter, he tangled tongues with her as if they were starting the tango. They danced, they twirled, they soared to the top of the sky. The kiss was everything and more. Just as she always felt perfect in his arms, limbs tangled together in a sweaty mess from lovemaking, her lips were made for his.
He never wa
nted to stop. Not even to rip her clothes off so he could feel her skin to skin. Because that’s suddenly what he needed. He needed to feel her completely against him. To know that she was his. Only his. He needed to claim her. Possess her. To show her that he was all in to take this relationship to the next level, and he was never letting her go.
Her bra fell off with ease with a flick of his wrist. Her pants went just as quickly, although not as smoothly, because he had to lean away while she shimmied her pants down to the ground but not lose his attachment to her lips. Now that he had a taste, he never wanted to let go.
She made good work of unzipping his pants and freeing his hard dick, palming it into her hands, stroking the way she knew he liked. It made him want her even more.
Groaning in dismay, because it was unavoidable, he disengaged for a few seconds to toss his shirt off and grab a condom from his pocket.
With his pants halfway down his legs, circling his knees, otherwise naked, he sheathed on the condom and brought his body close to hers, pressing them skin to skin, lips to lips.
He took his time entering her, feeling the beautiful way they joined as one, the gorgeous way she moved against him as if she couldn’t get enough.
Oh, he’d never get enough of her. Each time was always better than the last.
They moved slowly, up and down, their kiss slow and easy, as if they had all the time in the world. Why should he be in a rush when he had the most precious woman in his arms, loving her as she deserved to be love?
“More,” she mumbled against his lips.
Another reason he couldn’t leave this woman. Ever. When she demanded something from him, he gave her what she wanted. She didn’t want slow and tender anymore, then that was fine with him.
“Lay back, Suzey baby.” He slowly moved things out of the way on the desk, his lips still attached to hers. The kiss turned hot and heavy as he started to thrust deeper and harder. Although, not as rough as he knew she wanted when he was locked lips with her.
Sucking hard on her tongue, a tender kiss afterwards, he let go and stood upright, grabbing her hips tightly. “Hold on, sweetheart.”
He was rewarded with the deadliest, sexiest grin yet from her. She grabbed his ass as he thrust hard and deep. Over and over. In and out. He didn’t shout out his love for her, which he now saw clear as day, her lying spread out gorgeous as hell across her desk. He showed her with each dirty, rough thrust inside and out.
Her tiny moans, her hands grabbing and digging, were answer enough that she felt the same. He knew. He didn’t have to hear the words to know.
“So close, Stitch. More.”
He started to slam a little harder, although not so hard he hurt her, but hard enough the desk moved. Neither of them paid it much attention. The tension in his body started to climb, the desire swirling in his veins, ramping up for an orgasm that he knew would be hard to top.
Suddenly, she was squeezing around him so hard, a soft scream echoed in the room. He fell from heaven with her and held on tight as they came crashing down from the clouds together.
Leaning forward, he brushed light kisses across her cheeks, her lips, her neck, everywhere.
“You were kind of loud, Suzey baby. That’s so damn sexy.”
A bright red hue covered her face as she realized they were still in her office and anyone who was walking by could’ve figured out quite easily what happened. Her eyes closed in embarrassment.
“Hey. No, you can’t do that. You can’t be ashamed. That was amazing.” He kissed her thoroughly, yet tenderly, so she would know how truly amazing she was.
“I’ve never done anything like that before. If anyone heard—”
“They don’t matter. I’d threatened to kick their ass for saying a word…” He chuckled at her expression. “But I don’t think you’d like that.” He grinned to make it appear like he was teasing, when he was dead serious.
“Not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
“Stitch…”
He wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but he didn’t want to hear it. The way she said his name, almost as if she regretted what they did, gutted him in a way. He never wanted her to regret things between them, especially sex.
Should’ve he waited until they were alone at home to attack her with such passion? Maybe. But he didn’t, so he refused to regret what they did. He did regret not taking her hair out of its ponytail so he could’ve seen it all fanned out across her desk. Now, that would’ve been sexy as hell.
Reluctantly, he pulled away from her, plucked the condom off, and threw it in the trash next to her desk.
“Gross. I can’t keep that in here.”
His eyes twinkled with mischief. “It’d give the trash guy something to talk about.”
“I’m so glad you find this amusing.”
He zipped his pants and grabbed his shirt from the floor. “Hey, I’m not sorry for loving my woman on a desk in her office. I’d do it again if you weren’t so red in the face.”
She bit her bottom lip, almost as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t seem to.
He couldn’t tell if what she wanted to say was good or bad. He hated the self-doubt about their relationship seeping back in. He thought they settled things between them. There was an us. They were going to make a go of things. Did having sex on her desk ruin his chances after all?
“Let’s go home. Finish this in a bed.”
To his delight, she smiled, yet a bit of sadness sheltered her eyes. “I’m not quite finished here. But I shouldn’t be too much longer.”
He watched as she put her bra back on and then her shirt. Now fully clothed, but still looking sexy as hell and like she had been thoroughly loved, which she had, he wanted to do it all over again. And again. And again.
“Why don’t I grab some food, because I haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
She shook her head no.
“Alright. I’ll grab some food and meet you at your house in, let’s say, an hour. Is that enough time to finish here?”
“Yeah. I like the sound of that plan.”
“Good. Me, too.”
He grabbed another kiss, now dying to kiss her anytime he could, and left.
Maybe he’d stop and pick up more than just food. Maybe he’d show her how serious he was about them.
Just maybe.
Chapter 20
Susan hit the garage door button and opened the door. Disarming the alarm quickly, she almost shivered at how quiet the house sounded. Since Stitch appeared in her life, it had started to sound more lively and full and filled with…love, dare she say.
Hey, I’m not sorry for loving my woman on a desk in her office.
What did he mean? Making love? Actual love?
She couldn’t believe what they did in her office. In her place of employment.
Was she embarrassed a co-worker might have heard her in the throes of passion? Um, yeah. Totally.
Was it completely unprofessional of her, and should she be ashamed of herself? Yes and yes.
Did she regret doing it? Definitely not.
Stitch always managed to bring her fun, dirty side out of her that she didn’t even realize she had. He always made her feel alive and free. How could she regret those moments? She couldn’t.
But she didn’t want to share those moments with others.
And his kisses.
Oh, boy. She had been missing out.
When he said he had never kissed her on the lips, she thought he had to be joking. When she shuffled through all of her memories, she realized he was right.
He had been worth the wait. That man knew how to use his tongue right. Deliciously. Deliriously. Decadently.
Tossing her keys on the counter, she checked her phone one more time.
No new texts from Stitch.
She sent him a text when she left the building, receiving one instantly that he was running a few minutes behind but would see her at her house in less than a half hour. Which actual
ly gave her plenty of time to take a shower and wash off the grime from the day.
Newman was still sitting in an interrogation room. Ben was out searching for a woman who could clear him in the fourth murder. Zeke was trying to verify alibis on the first three. And Sauer. Well, she didn’t know what he was up to when she left.
Things with Stitch were better. She didn’t want to get into an argument with Sauer. And she would’ve. She would’ve given him a piece of her mind for making Stitch feel the way he did.
Was Stitch right to hit him? No. She never thought violence was the answer. Did Sauer deserve some sort of reprimand? Yes. His words hurt Stitch, and unfortunately, Stitch reacted in the only way he knew how. To show a little pain back. Obviously, she needed to work with him on that. Because she didn’t want to worry he would hit a guy anytime he felt threatened, or even threatened on her behalf.
She liked his protectiveness, but only so much. He would have to dial it down.
Jumping into the shower quickly, she let the hot water soothe her bones for a minute before scrubbing like crazy and then finishing her hair faster than she normally did.
She slipped on a pair of comfy pajama pants and a thin tank top, sans the bra. She wanted to be comfortable, yet sexy while they ate. Enticing him to eat a little faster would be fun. But she did need to eat. Her body had been deprived of food all day and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could wait.
Leaving her bedroom, she headed for the living room as she tossed her wet hair into a messy bun. Reaching her destination, she realized she left her phone in her room. She needed that in case Stitch called or texted. He should be here any minute.
She froze.
The cold barrel of the gun against her back made her tremble.
“I suggest you turn around slowly.”
Tiny shivers wracked her body as she took tiny steps to face her attacker. She didn’t recognize his voice. More confusion touched her features when she met his gaze. Who was he? How did he get into her house?
The gun was easy enough to decipher. A .38 revolver. As close as he stood to her, it would do plenty of damage. Hell, he could’ve been standing at the end of the hallway and she’d be dead if he fired. A gun was a gun. She’d never been on the receiving end of a gun before.
One Taste of Sin (A One Taste Novel Book 4) Page 19
