by Lili Valente
She’s not done torturing me yet—I can tell by the lilt in her voice. And, glutton for punishment that I am, I have to hear what she’s going to say next.
“But I know that’s a conflict of interest for you.” Her gaze scans my face, honing in on my mouth, making me think she wants to be kissed as much as I want to be kissing her. “Though, you haven’t seemed too stressed about keeping things professional thus far. So maybe all that ‘no more than a kiss’ stuff is just a front to keep on the right side of the law. Maybe you always fuck your clients.”
“Never. Not a single time,” I say in a voice too thick with lust to be convincing, even though I’m telling the truth.
I want to open a second location of my shop badly enough to play Knight With Scary Tattoos to deserving women in need, but not enough to fuck people for money. I’m as shameless as the next confirmed bachelor when it comes to getting laid, but I fuck who I want, when I want. Because sex should be about what two people want to do to each other, not what one of them has bought and paid for.
I’m about to tell Cat so, but she waves her hand through the air. “Seriously. It’s not a big deal. Even if you have sex with women for money, I don’t care.” She reaches for another shot. “Which brings me to my third confession. Are you ready?”
“Shoot,” I say tightly, deciding that convincing her I’m not a manwhore will have to wait until I don’t have a hard-on.
She takes a deeper breath, but when she speaks, her words are a whisper. “I still want you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone, even Nico. And I want to do something about it.”
“Something like…what?” I ask, though I have a pretty good idea.
“I think we should go for it,” she says with a smile that’s equal parts wicked and nervous. “Let’s do it. Let’s make fucking each other stupid part of our arrangement.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Before I can assure her that I absolutely will not fuck her stupid for money—I will fuck her stupid for free because I am not a whore, and I’m pissed that she has so easily assumed my dick is for sale—she pushes on.
“I have to know if you really will be the best I’ve ever had.” She wags her shot back and forth, sending the liquid sliding from side to side. “Or if it’s like Gail said, and you’re all foreplay, head games, and nice-smelling cologne but nothing special between the sheets.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “What? When did she say that?”
“My junior year,” she says, her grin growing even more wicked. “After you left for Japan. I think she was just trying to make me feel better, but who knows? She could have been shooting straight. It was always hard to tell with her. The Holy Gail kept her cards close to her chest. You know she eventually became a nun, right?”
I blink. “No, I didn’t.”
“She did. So the Holy Gail bit really did fit.” Her forehead knits. “Though I think her name is Sister Maria Faustus or Maria Faustina or something like that now. Something that reminded me of Dante’s Inferno when I heard the news.”
“Well, good for her. I hope she’s happy,” I say, not really surprised to hear that Gail’s life went in that direction. Of all the girls I dated in college, she was the sweetest and the prettiest, but also the most devout and the least interested in learning if my reputation for delivering multiple O’s in the bedroom was fact or fiction.
And a girl who has no interest in multiple O’s clearly has a higher calling.
One I can’t understand on a personal level, but…
“Don’t worry,” Cat says, a knowing look on her face, as if she can read every thought racing through my mind. “I’m sure it wasn’t your lack of skill between the sheets that turned her to a life of celibacy.”
I bend lower, dropping my elbow to the counter and propping my chin on my fist with a wry grin. “Thanks. I’m sure it wasn’t, too. Especially considering we never slept together…”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Really?”
“Really. It never felt right. For either of us.”
She hums thoughtfully. “So she was just trying to make me feel better.” She shrugs, setting the tequila in her glass to sloshing again. “Well, that was nice of her. By that point everyone knew I’d begged you to punch my V card, and the Dashers made it their mission in life to fuck with me about it, so I was pretty demoralized. It was nice to get a kind word from someone who’d allegedly been there, done that, and wasn’t that impressed by it all.”
“How did everyone find out?” I ask, troubled by that part of the story. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
She shrugs again. “I think Empty Tool Box overheard something when he came to get your help with the bonfire. But he would never cop to it, not even when I let him do the honors and punch my V card himself.”
“Tool Box?” I ask, lip curling. “God, Cat, why? Why do that to yourself? He’s dumber than a box full of rocks.”
“I told you, I was demoralized, damn it! And you don’t get to judge me right now.” She points a finger at my chest, making a snarling sound that causes Fifi—who has been resting in her dog bed on the couch in the other room, minding her own business—to lift her head and let out a curious “you okay in there?” bark.
“I’m fine,” Cat calls back, making me smile in spite of the fact that she’s still glaring at me as if she’d like to do the tender parts of my body serious damage. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Before you answered her, I was just thinking that Fang sounded like she was asking if you were okay.”
Cat’s frown softens. Just a little. “Yeah, well. She has very expressive barks. She has ever since she was a puppy.”
“She really does.” I glance pointedly at the tequila glass in her hand. “So is that all? Are you finished with your third confession?”
She looks up at the ceiling, seeming to search her thoughts as she taps her pointer finger and thumb together. “Um, I want you, I want to make getting naked together part of our arrangement… Yep,” she continues in a breathy voice, nodding a little too long before she clears her throat. “I think that just about covers it.”
“All right.”
Her eyes flick back to mine. This time I don’t try to hide the way her words affect me. I hold her gaze, hoping she really can read every thought flitting through my mind. Because they’re all dirty, and they all involve me blowing her mind while I do wicked, wonderful things to her beautiful body.
“All right?” she says, her voice a half octave higher than it was before.
“Then say your part.” I claim my shot glass.
“Oh, right.” She swallows hard. “Bless me, friend, for I have sinned.”
“I absolve you in the name of the fox and the hound and the brew that never lets them down, Religious Advice concluded,” I say, adding on before she can take her shot, “On one condition.”
She pauses with her glass an inch from her lips. “And what’s that?”
“We lay down some ground rules, so we’re clear on when I’m in charge and when I’m not.”
She nods slightly. “Okay. So…when are you in charge?”
“Drink first. Then rules.” I take my shot, the semi-oily tequila going down much easier now that I’ve got a buzz on, and place it carefully on the counter.
After a moment, she drinks, blowing air through pursed lips as she sets her glass next to mine. “Next time, make me get the good stuff out of my closet instead of the bargain basement brand I use for mixed drinks.”
“Rule one.” I circle around the island toward her, refusing to be sidetracked by talk of tequila or next times or anything else. “This is not part of our professional arrangement. You will not mention paying me for sex again. I’m not a gigolo, or a manwhore, or any other kind of whore, and I don’t earn money with my dick.”
Her lips part, but I don’t give her a chance to speak.
“When I’m fucking you it will be because I want to fuck you.” I continue stalking toward her. She begins slowly backing in
to the darkened living room, apparently not so sure of herself now that the time out provided by Religious Advice is over. “It will be because I need to get my cock inside you.”
Her eyes widen as she nods. “Understood. And I’m sorry if I—”
“Rule two: We keep our working relationship and our fucking relationship separate. When we’re working, we’re working, and nothing I say or do can be taken out of context.”
Her bottom collides with the back of the couch, and she lets out a shaky laugh.
“Understood?” I stop a foot away, giving her room to breathe, but not too much room. I’m enjoying the sight of Cat breathless.
She nods. “So if we’re at a party and you tell me you can’t wait to get me home and tie me to your bed because you know Nico’s close enough to hear, that doesn’t mean you’re actually going to tie me to the bed.”
“Exactly.” I step closer until heat pulses in the air between us, and the potential energy of the moment makes my nerve endings hum. “Though, I might tie you up, if I think that’s what you need.”
“What I need,” she murmurs, as if hearing something familiar but forgotten until this moment.
“Do you remember that time you asked me about my secret to success with Gail?” I ask. “The talk we had about giving people what they need?”
She nods again, watching me with this half-amused, half-mesmerized look that makes me want to get her underneath me right this fucking second. But this is important.
“I remember,” she says.
“You said you were good at intuiting what people needed.” I reach up, threading a hand into her silky hair and making a light fist. “I’m good at it, too. And when we’re together, behind closed doors, I’m going to give you exactly what you need.”
Her lips curve on one side. “And what is that, pray tell?”
“Right now, I think it’s a good hard fucking.” I tighten my fist in her hair, summoning a soft, hungry cry from her lips, which goes straight to my dick, making all nine and a half inches fight to dismantle my zipper with the force of lust alone. “A fucking that will get you out of your head and into your body.” I dip my head until my lips brush the smooth column of her throat below her ear, inhaling the sexy as hell smell of her as I add, “And make you forget how important you think it is to stay in control.”
“Speaking of control,” she says, her pulse racing beneath my mouth. “You never said when you were in charge and when you’re not.”
“Because that’s the easiest part, Red.” I open my mouth, raking my teeth lightly over her cool, sweet skin. She shudders against me, making my erection swell to epic proportions. “I’m always in charge.”
“Is that right?” she whispers.
“It is.” I lick a trail from the base of her throat to her jaw, and her shudder becomes a sustained tremble. “When I’m working to keep you safe, I’m in charge. And when I’m working to make you come, I’m in charge. Because that’s the way you like it, isn’t it?” I let my free hand trail down to cup her ass, pulling her against me until there can be no doubt in her mind how badly I want her.
She moans, arching into me until her breasts are flush against my chest and her pubic bone rocks against where I’m so hard it’s painful. “I don’t know whether to say yes, or to tell you to go fuck yourself so you’ll quit being such a smug bastard.”
“You’re going to say yes.” I pull back to gaze into her flushed face. Damn, she’s beautiful, with her eyes glittering and her full lips parted in a silent invitation to lay claim to her mouth. “Say yes, Cat. Say yes, and I will give you everything you want. Everything you need.”
Her eyes flutter closed. “Damn you, Aidan.”
“Say yes,” I whisper, inches from her lips. “Say yes, and I’ll kiss you the way you’ve always wanted to be kissed.”
“Yeah? How have I always wanted to be kissed?”
“Like you belong to someone,” I say without a beat of hesitation, digging my fingers deeper into the strong, muscled flesh of her ass. Her eyes open, her gaze crashing into mine as I promise, “I’m going to kiss you until your mouth knows who it belongs to, Red. And then I’m going to repeat the process until every inch of your body knows that tonight you’re mine. Every kiss, every moan, every time you come on my fingers or my mouth or my cock, every minute of your pleasure belongs to me.”
A pained expression flashes across her features. “It’s going to be such a let-down if you’re all talk. Because your talk is really fucking good.”
“I still need to hear a yes.” I hitch her leg around my waist and rock against her, making her moan as my erection rubs against her through the thin fabric of her panties. They’re white. Lacy. And I can’t wait to get them off of her, but we both need this first. She needs someone to take the load off of her shoulders, and I need permission to take it, to take her, to fuck her the way she needs to be fucked, with no holding back.
“Yes, Cat. Say yes,” I murmur as I continue to fuck her through our clothes and her breath comes faster and I swear I can feel the molten heat of her through my jeans. “Say yes. Please, say yes.”
I don’t know if it’s the please or the hunger in my voice or the erotic friction of cock against clit that finally persuades her, but her arms go around my neck and her fingernails dig into my skin like she’s never going to let me go. “Yes. Yes, damn it. Make me yours. Show me, Aidan. Now. Please.”
I intend to start slow, give us somewhere to go, but the moment my lips touch Cat’s, the world catches fire all over again. Our second kiss is even hotter than our first, an erotic battle of lips, teeth, and tongue that makes my pulse thunder. Within seconds I’m drunk on her smell, her taste, rocked by the electricity that leaps between us like we were made to complete a circuit. Her fingers claw deeper into my shoulders, and I moan, a sound she echoes, vibrating my lips, a buzzing I feel over every inch of my skin.
And because I’ve never been one to make a lady wait, I start to guide her down to the soft carpet, so desperate to have her skin bared to my mouth that I can’t imagine taking another step without disposing of her dress first. But before I can do more than bend my knees, a low growl sounds to my left.
I glance up, spying Fifi, still in her bed, watching Cat and I with an intensity that’s unnerving.
When my eyes meet the dog’s, she lets out an enthusiastic yap.
“No, you can’t watch.” I reverse direction, standing and scooping Cat into my arms with a scowl for her perverted pet. “Where’s the bedroom?”
“Through there,” Cat says, pointing to the back of the apartment. I head that way, but Fifi leaps down from the couch to follow. “Stay, Fang. Stay!” Cat adds laughter in her voice. “Go back to your bed. To your bed, right now!”
The dog barks, three times in rapid succession, a clear “come on, Mom, let me come,” plea that makes Cat laugh again.
A less confidant man would be cursing the dog and the ruined mood, but I had no doubt I’ll have Cat begging again in no time.
The only thing I’m worried about is how long I’ll be able to hold off before I have to have her. I want to make our first time last, to make this a night she’ll never forget, but I’m already so desperate, so wild, so fucking hard it feels like I’ll do myself damage if I don’t get inside of her soon.
She drives me crazy, this woman, but as I slam the bedroom door, set her on her feet, and strip her dress over her head, baring her to my gaze for the first time, I decide sanity is overrated.
I don’t need sanity.
I just need Red, in my arms, skin to skin.
Right fucking now.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
My gaze glides from her softly parted lips to her breasts, encased in white lace, down to her matching panties and impossibly long, beautifully strong legs. For a long moment, I fight the urge to reach for her, doing my best to imprint this moment into my memory.
I want to remember her like this, with her pale skin curving in all the right places and light-brown
freckles scattered across her chest like a constellation of stars.
She’s perfect. More than perfect. She’s completely fucking stunning.
Earthy and ethereal, familiar and exotic, and so sexy I can’t believe that even an abundance of integrity and a hefty dose of early-twenties stupidity was enough to make me turn her down the first time I had her in my arms. I want to kiss her everywhere. I want to name every freckle while I tease her nipples through her bra, driving her out of her mind until she’s trembling in my arms and so wet I can smell the sweet, salty scent of her filling the air.
But naming her freckles would make her laugh, and I don’t want her laughter. I want her gasps and her sighs and her moans. I want her husky voice in my ear begging me to take her, screaming that I’m the best she’s ever had.
But first I need to make sure we go into this more prepared than we were last time.
“I’m clean. I was tested last month.” I strip my shirt slowly over my head and toss it to the floor, not missing the way her gaze drops to my chest then skims lower, down my stomach to the close of my jeans, making my cock weep a single tear of pain for the tragedy of still being separated from this woman. “What about you?”
“I haven’t been tested recently.” She looks hungry, starving, like she wants to nibble a trail from my neck to my navel, and I realize I would sell semi-vital organs for the pleasure of being her next meal. “But I’ve never had sex without a condom.”
I bite my lip as I reach for the close of my jeans, slowly popping the button free and catching the tab of the zipper between my fingers. “Never?”
She shakes her head dreamily from side to side, her attention fixed on the close of my pants. “Never. Nico wanted to, but—”
“I don’t want to hear about Nico.” I drag my zipper down, letting the humming sound fill the silence between my words. “I want to hear whether you’re on the pill. And, if so, if you want me to fuck you bare. Or if you’d rather I wrap up. Whatever you want, Red, I just want to know before this starts. If I remember correctly, last time I touched you I lost my damned mind and was ready to fuck first and ask important questions later.”
