by Ana Novak
I dropped a kiss on his collarbone and began moving down his body, letting my tongue trace trails across his muscular chest, his rock-hard abs, and the line of his pelvic bone. When I reached his cock, I wrapped my fingers around it, hearing the catch in his breath as he struggled to keep still.
I leaned down to lick the tip, tasting the drop of pre-cum there, loving the velvety softness of his manhood. Slowly I eased my lips over his cock, swirling the head with my tongue and dragging a moan from Shane.
I released him from my mouth and licked my lips, looking up at him. “Does that feel good, baby?”
“Yes,” he muttered, and I heard the clink of the cuffs as they stopped the movement of his wrists.
I went down on him in earnest then, taking him into my mouth as far as I could and stopping within a fraction of my gag point. His hips jerked against me, but my hand on his cock prevented him from driving himself any further down my throat. I sucked greedily and pulled up, letting my teeth scrape gently against the underside of his dick. He gasped above me, and I relished the sound of his breath hitching as he fought to keep still. It felt good to have this kind of effect on a man, to know that I had control over someone who could easily overpower me if he wanted to. It made me light-headed and more than a little giddy.
“Taylor- come on, sweetheart, fuck me, please,” he said, breathless and rasping and sexy as hell as he begged me.
I giggled, lifting my head as I slowly kept my hand working up and down his shaft. “I need to find a condom first.”
Shane raised his head, a ghost of a smile on his face. “In my wallet,” he said, and looked around. “Shit- where are my jeans?”
“This could have been planned better,” I admitted.
“Shut up and find a condom.”
“Hey now,” I said. “If you want to try ordering me around, maybe I’ll make you wait just a little bit longer.” I licked up the side of his cock like a lollipop before pulling my hand away and sitting up, tossing my hair back as if I had all the time in the world.
The glitter of his eyes in the faint light from the bedroom door was dangerous. “I’m gonna break this fucking bed,” he growled, and yanked on the cuffs. The headboard rattled, but I was already off the bed and digging through the pockets of his jeans for his wallet.
“Oh, look, cash,” I said, pulling out a wad of bills. “Is this payment, sir?”
“You’re really gonna be joking around right now?” he said in disbelief.
“Seems like a good time for it. You are restrained, after all,” I said, dropping the cash and the wallet on the floor and holding up a foil packet. “Jackpot.”
I lay down beside him, pressing the line of my body against his, and kissed him thoroughly. His lips were hungry, his beard delightfully scratchy against my cheeks, his tongue dancing against mine. I closed my eyes, savoring the perfection of this moment, and he seemed to understand what I wanted because he slowed down. The kiss became less desperate, more intimate. He leaned his forehead against mine when we broke apart.
“Shane,” I whispered.
The rattle of his breath in his throat was audible as he struggled to keep control. “Taylor.”
I raised a hand, brushing my fingers against his cheek and staring into his dark, dark eyes. “Shane, I…I…” The words stuck in my throat. Time seemed to slow for an instant. I heard the rattle of steel against wrought iron, felt the warmth of his breath on my lips. I curled my leg over his, my thigh brushing his erection. He didn’t move.
He was gazing at me like he’d never seen me before, his eyes swimming with an emotion I couldn’t identify. “Yeah,” he murmured after a long moment. “Me, too.”
I kissed him again, fumbling to tear the packet open. With the condom in my hand, I shifted, straddling him and breaking the kiss so that I could sit up. The intimacy of the moment we’d stared into each other’s eyes was easily a million times more awkward than rolling a condom onto his thick cock, and I deliberately avoided his eyes as I adjusted myself.
As I sank onto him, he remained still beneath me, and I chanced a glance at his face. His head was thrown back, his arms above his head, and he was biting his lip so hard I worried it might start bleeding. When he was seated completely inside me, I took a deep breath and rolled my hips, once, twice.
“Go, baby,” he whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.
I braced my knees and began to move, rotating my hips and rising up before sinking down on his cock again. The friction of his pelvis against my clit was perfect agony, making my legs shake on every stroke, but I repeated the motion for several long minutes, taking my time in wringing the pleasure from him.
I could feel my orgasm building, and I tamped it down, determined to make him come first. I focused on the rise and fall of his muscular chest, the roll of his abdomen as he thrust upwards.
“So beautiful,” I whispered, and the tone of my voice was alien to me, husky and heavy with lust. “Come for me, Shane. Come inside me.”
His hips began bucking faster, and I matched his pace, gliding wetly against him, carried along by the staccato rhythm of his breathing, unable to stop even if I’d wanted to.
It didn’t take long before he stiffened, and his arms jerked so hard that the headboard came away from the wall and then slammed back into it. A photo frame fell off the wall and shattered beside the bed. We both ignored it, and I leaned down, pressing my mouth to his. He returned the kiss, his hips still moving against mine, though with less urgency than before. This angle provided a new kind of friction, and I let the ecstasy roll over me this time without resisting. My hands fisted against the pillow on either side of his head as I rode him through my orgasm, pushing myself to my limits. Finally my legs gave out, and I collapsed on top of him, sliding my hands up his torso and resting my cheek against his chest.
“One second,” I whispered, out of breath. “I’ll unlock you as soon as I can move.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “That good, huh?”
I forced myself up onto my elbows, kissing his chest lazily as I moved up to grab the key off the nightstand. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to do that,” I said as I unlocked each cuff, releasing his hands. I dropped them on the floor next to the bed and rolled off of him, laying on my side as he got up to dispose of the condom.
“Do what?” he said a moment. The bed shifted as he sat down on its edge. “The handcuffs?”
“Yeah.” I turned around to see him examining his forearms. In the light streaming through the doorway, I could see there were bright red welts circling his wrists. “Oh my god! Did I put them on too tight?”
“No.” He looked up at me and smiled sheepishly. “I got a little carried away, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, horrified.
“It was worth it, sweetheart.” He leaned over to kiss my shoulder, pulling me down beside him with my back to him.
This felt good. His arms around me felt warm and familiar and right, and in a moment of weakness, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You know…if you’re gonna be coming over in the middle of the night, maybe I should give you your own key.”
Shane sounded amused when he answered. “What, you’re not scared that’s too much of a commitment?”
I was, but I was too proud to rescind my offer. I rolled onto my stomach, arms folded underneath my chin. “The spare key is on top of the doorframe in the hallway.”
Shane was silent for a moment.
“You’re going to tell me that’s not safe,” I said accusingly.
“It’s your front door. In Williamsburg. In New York,” he replied, deadpan, and I laughed. He clearly didn’t agree, but he wasn’t going to try to tell me what to do.
“Take it with you when you leave, and I’ll be safe again,” I said.
“I’ll do that.”
For several moments, neither of us spoke.
“So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” he asked finally, using one hand to draw lazy cir
cles on my shoulder blades.
I grimaced and shifted so that I was leaning on one elbow to face him, my cheek propped against the heel of my hand. “I’m going to Van and Mel’s for Thanksgiving.”
“Why the face?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips. “You don’t want to?”
“I love spending time with my brother, and with Mel, too. But…” I hesitated. “Dave is going to be there.”
“Your ex?” Shane frowned. “Why?”
“He always comes for Thanksgiving. It’s never been a problem before because, you know, we were married. The last two years I’ve spent Thanksgiving in Cali with my mom, so none of us really cared.”
“But you’re back now,” Shane said, obviously implying this meant Dave should be un-invited to Thanksgiving dinner.
“Dave doesn’t have any other family,” I explained. “His mom passed away when he was in college, and his dad died a few years ago. He doesn’t have anyone else to spend the holidays with.”
“Girlfriend?”
I shook my head.
“Siblings?”
“Nope. He has a sister but they’re not on good terms.”
“And so you have to suffer through Thanksgiving dinner with him because he’s a jackass with no friends,” Shane said, clearly disgusted. “Shit, I’m sorry, Taylor.”
“There are worse things than spending Thanksgiving with someone you don’t like,” I answered, trying to keep my tone light. “Are you going to see your parents?”
“I was thinking about it.” He was silent for a moment, and shifted so that he was mirroring my position, his head propped up on his hand as he lay on his side. “But I don’t mind staying in the city. Why don’t you spend Thanksgiving with me? We can do it at my place.”
I giggled before I could stop myself, but his expression didn’t change, and my laugh faltered. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Why not?” He looked mystified as to why I could possibly have an issue with the invitation.
“I don’t know,” I said skeptically. “Doesn’t spending Thanksgiving together seem awfully…couple-ish?”
“This again,” he said with a sexy smile that sent a shiver down my back. “It’s Thanksgiving, not a proposal. Stop trying to read so much into it.”
“I just don’t want the lines to get blurred,” I said.
“I already promised not to break your heart.” He threaded his fingers through mine, our linked hands resting on the sheet between us.
“I know.”
“I promised not to try to control you.”
“I know.”
“So let’s spend Thanksgiving together. We’ll cook, we’ll eat, we’ll watch a movie. And if sex happens…” He shrugged, the muscles playing across his chest with the motion. “I’ll just have to deal with it.”
“That’s right, baby. You do what I tell you,” I said loftily, and giggled when he rolled on top of me, nipping at my earlobe.
“Shut up and kiss me,” he whispered, and I gladly followed orders.
Chapter 12
“Girl, you are glowing,” Mel said appreciatively, looking me up and down.
“Stop.” I rolled my eyes and closed the hotel room door behind me. “It’s the leftovers of my tan from this summer. I miss the California sun.”
“A tan doesn’t give you that kind of glow,” Mel said mischievously.
“Only good sex can do that,” Mistral announced from the bathroom, her voice muffled.
I groaned. “I didn’t come here for you two to talk about my sex life the whole time. Haven’t you had enough?”
“That would be a negative,” Mistral said. She emerged from the bathroom, affixing giant hoops in her earlobes. She was wearing a silky green maxi dress that made her eyes look impossibly blue. “Girlie, you and I both know I have zero romance in my life. Let me live vicariously through you for just a little while longer.”
“It’s just sex,” I insisted. “It’s not romantic.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Mistral said airily. “What’s our agenda for the day?”
“You’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” I said. “We only landed two hours ago.”
“Sixteen hours of blissful sleep in first class will do that for you. At least it will for us peons without a sex god at our beck and call.”
“Stop calling him a sex god!”
“Isn’t he?”
“Spa day,” Mel interrupted. “And I paid big bikkies for that flight. I’m sure Van will have a fine time at his buck’s night, so don’t spend the entire weekend arguing, yeah? It’ll ruin my good mood.”
I thought about calling her out for using obscure Aussie terms like bikkies and buck’s night when she’d been in the U.S. for more than ten years now, but Mel’s expression was serious, so I thought better of it.
“Are we going out tonight?” I asked Mel, following her out the door.
“I have a few places I’d like to see,” she said, and pressed the button for the elevator before pulling her phone out of her pocket. “This place- Vai'ete Square- has food trucks and live entertainment. I thought we could go there for dinner. And the best club scene is on the waterfront. What’s the name of the street? Oh, there it is- Boulevard Pomare. That’s where we’re headed.”
“After spa day,” Mistral interjected.
“After spa day,” I echoed. “I’m going to get waxed.”
“Brazilian?” Mel asked, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow.
“Yep.” I knew what they were thinking. “And yes, it’s because I think Shane might like it.”
“Painful body modifications for a man? It must be love,” Mistral said wryly.
I remembered what Mel had said about not arguing and decided not to dispute her assertion. “I just thought it might be something different and fun.”
“Van loves it,” Mel said candidly.
“Oh, god,” I said, pressing my fingers to my mouth. “I do not want to think about my brother enjoying your Brazilian wax job, Mel.”
“He has been going crazy torturing himself over you and Shane,” she said with a wicked grin. “I think he’s coming around, though.”
“I don’t want him thinking about me and Shane. In fact, I don’t really want to think about guys at all right now.”
“Get used to it,” she retorted. “This weekend, all we’re going to talk about is men.”
“If this were a movie, we’d be failing the Bechdel test miserably,” I pointed out.
“Add in a few bottles of wine and you’ve got my kind of bachelorette party,” Mistral drawled. We filed into the elevator.
“That’s fine with me,” I said, giving up. “I’ve never been to Tahiti before, and I’ve never taken a vacation as a single woman. I’m ready to dance all night.” At Mistral’s sly look, I added jokingly, “Maybe even take someone back to the hotel with me.”
“You go, girl,” Mistral said. “Let’s find you a hot tourist to bang.”
“Right. Because you guys were spot on with your last attempt.”
“What are you talking about?” Mel asked with a smile. “I’d say our matchmaking worked perfectly. Not only did Shane rescue you from Philippe’s choice, but he was worked up enough to take you home afterwards.”
“That did work out wonderfully,” Mistral said, tapping one blood-red fingernail against her chin. “Nothing like a healthy dose of jealousy to get the ball rolling on romance.”
“Or sex,” I said, unable to ignore her hints any longer. “It’s just sex. Really, really great sex, but just sex nonetheless.”
Mel giggled. “I believe you think so, Taylor, but I’m not sure your heart is going to listen to you.”
“It better,” I said sourly as the elevator door opened. “I’m not up for another heart stomping like the one I got from Dave.”
“It’s nice to be here without him, isn’t it?” Mel asked. “He hangs out at our place a lot, and I know we’ve been friends for quite a while, but personally, I could do with a bi
t less Dave in my life.”
“I second that,” I said. “He texts and calls me non-stop. Don’t tell Van, though. I don’t want to mess up their friendship.”
“Story of my life,” she answered with a grimace. “I’d be concerned if I wasn’t absolutely one hundred percent convinced that Van is straight.”
Mistral and I both laughed at that. “It would make my life so much easier if Dave turned out to be gay,” I said. “Maybe he’d leave me alone then.”
“We should be so lucky!”
The spa was attached to the resort, and we were ushered to a back room that the hostess assured us was exclusively reserved for VIPs. The walls were covered in dark, heavy drapes, and the ceiling was made entirely of glass, showing the dangling fronds of palm trees against the clear blue sky.
“I could get used to this,” I said, leaning back in my massaging chair as a woman painstakingly removed the chipping polish from my toenails.
“We don’t do this nearly often enough,” Mel agreed. “Why is it that I have to get married before we can organize a girls’ holiday?”
“Work schedules,” Mistral said. I glanced over and saw that she was mimicking my pose, her massaging chair activated, her eyes closed.
“Well, work schedules and the fact that I was living on the west coast for the last two years,” I corrected her. “We should make more of an effort to get away. Maybe after my book tour is over, we can take a ski trip. I went to Aspen last year with my mom and it was amazing.”
“If there’s a hot tub and a masseuse, I’m in,” Mistral said.
“I’m filming three movies back-to-back this year,” Mel said ruefully. “I don’t know how much free time I’ll have.”
“We’ll make it work.” My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket.
“Dave?” Mel asked expectantly.
“Shockingly, no.” I smirked at her. “It’s Shane.”
“The man himself! What did he say?” Mistral demanded.
“He just wants to make sure we arrived safely.”
“That’s sweet. He’s checking up on you.”
“He’s not like that,” I said, typing in my response. “Shane would never check up on me. He’s pretty much the exact opposite of Dave. He’s not controlling. He trusts me.”
