by K. L. Kreig
Perfect in every way.
Then why does my mind keep wandering back to another man who has already penetrated my soul in ways I’ll never understand? On paper, he’s someone you would immediately discard and not because of the tattoos or the bike. He’s cocky, infuriating, and has a sketchy past. He’s aloof and uses sarcasm and deflection to protect himself from the judgment of others. He’s the most mulish person I think I’ve ever met. Even more than I am.
But it’s the glimpses of the man underneath that have me wanting more. He’s passionate and deeply caring. He’s sensitive, but would never admit it. He can be tender and devoted. He would protect the ones he loves to the death, if necessary. He loves his mother profoundly, as do all the Colloway brothers. Watching them together at Livia’s wedding almost brought tears to my eyes.
And I have a feeling that a night in the bedroom with Luke would show me I’ve never experienced true sexual pleasure at the hands of a man before. As explosive as we are outside of the bedroom, I know we’d absolutely combust inside it.
Luke Colloway is imperfect in so many ways, so why do I keep thinking he may be perfect for me?
“Probably bad form to talk about exes on a first date, huh?” Cooper asks, sensing I’ve gone far away. I have, but not for the reasons he thinks.
“We could do better,” I quip, dragging my attention back to him once again.
“So we shall.”
We spend the next three hours nibbling, chatting, and laughing. By the time we leave, it’s nearly eleven.
“Home?” he asks as soon as we get in the car the valet has pulled around. I can hear the hope in his voice that I’ll want to extend our date, however, I have an early morning. I’ve promised Mrs. Ruffalo that I’ll take her to get her meds and pick up a birthday card and gift for her great-grandbaby who’s turning two. Madge likes to get an early start. I’ll be lucky if she lets me sleep until eight, even though I’ve told her repeatedly the pharmacy doesn’t open until ten on Sundays.
“Yes, sorry. I have early plans tomorrow.”
“I hope not a breakfast date,” he teases.
“Sort of, “ I joke back.
“Really? Am I going to have to spend the night protecting my turf?”
I laugh, thinking of how Luke would react if I invited Cooper in and dragged him back to my bedroom. Probably about the way I would react if he did the same. Both scenarios would likely end in violence. “Unless you’re worried about an eighty-five-year-old grey hair stealing me away from you, I think my virtue’s safe.” But my virtue is most definitely not safe with the man behind my front door.
“Eighty-five? Wow, you get around.”
“Why do you think it’s been eight months?”
Laughter fills his Camry. “Secret’s safe with me.” He crosses his heart and kisses his closed fist in promise and I chuckle at the gesture.
As we wind through the streets of downtown Chicago to the interstate, Cooper reaches over, plucks my hand from my lap, and brings it to his lips for a light kiss. He looks over at me briefly and the longing I see in his eyes makes my heart flutter, but it also makes my guilt prick for some stupid reason.
Twenty-five minutes later we’re pulling up in front of my apartment building. He rushes over to my side, opening my door. Extending a hand to help me out, I take it and find myself inches away from him once I’m fully standing. He looks like he wants to kiss me and I’m not sure if I want him to. As stupid as it is, I’m still remembering the feel of Luke’s lips on mine last week and I don’t want another man’s to replace them quite yet, even though that’s exactly what I need to do.
“I had a great time.”
“I’m walking you up. This date began at your door and will end the same way. Unless you have other ideas.” He winks playfully and I smile.
“I thought you were trying to be a gentleman?”
“I thought we already covered that. You make that very hard.”
“How so?”
“By just being you, Addy,” he says lowly.
I sigh, wondering why I can’t force myself to feel the same way about him as I do Luke. I want to. Somehow I don’t think Cooper Jensen will hurt me the way I know Luke Colloway could. Feeling eyes on me, I look up to my living room window to see the shades fluttering slightly as if someone was just standing there. Suddenly, I’m getting anxious for this date to end.
“I think I can make it myself, Mr. Jensen.”
“Back to that, are we? I think I’m going to have to change that, Ms. Monroe,” he declares under his breath. Grabbing my hand, he leads me up the walk and inside the building. I’m surprised to find the light that’s been out in the entryway for months now working and wonder when Ruis, our lame-ass super, fixed it. I’ve complained about it no less than six times. I don’t remember it working last night, but, of course, I’ve been otherwise occupied, what with my head mixed up and all.
When we make it to my front door, I turn toward Cooper, leaning against the cool wood for support. “Thanks for a great evening. I truly enjoyed it.”
“Me too,” he murmurs. Stepping closer so our bodies are almost flush, he cups my cheek. His thumb lightly strokes my jaw, making my eyes involuntarily close. “Addy…I want to kiss you.” His voice is low and needy.
My heavy lids open just as his lips descend on mine. They’ve barely made contact before I’m falling backward through the air, crashing into a strong, unyielding male chest. Corded arms band around my middle, holding me tight and I barely notice the look of confusion on Cooper’s face before I hear him.
“Hi, honey. I’ve been waiting for you,” a guttural voice rumbles directly in my ear.
Chapter 14
Keep her in your arms. Keep her in your arms. KEEP HER IN YOUR ARMS. Because if I don’t, I’m going to fucking throw picture boy over the banister to his untimely death three flights below. If not his death, at least a severe maiming…maybe even paralysis, if I’m lucky.
My woman safe in my arms? Check.
Holding myself back from hard prison time? Barely…but check.
The look on Cooper Jensen’s face right now? Priceless.
“You can go.” If my voice could physically spit nails, Jensen would be full of two tons of unforgiving lead.
I step back, dragging a now flailing and protesting Addy in my arms with me. One touch and I’m already stone hard and I don’t care to hide it, so I press her more firmly against me to show her exactly what her squirming is doing to me. That shuts her right the hell up.
“Uh, is everything okay here?” Camera man asks tentatively, his gaze moving back and forth between Addy and me, concern pinching his brows together.
“Lover’s spat,” I answer before slamming the door in his face.
See…this is the difference between me and photo guy. I would have broken down any fucking door to get to the spitfire now in my arms, but I know he’ll slink away like the douche he is. He is nowhere near man enough for Addy.
“You have officially gone insane!” she screeches so loud I’m quite sure my ears are bleeding.
I would let her go, only I know she’ll just run to the door and I swear if I see that loser’s face again it will never look the same. As it is, I’m fighting not to tie her to my bed so I can chase after his ass and run him off the road, making it look like an innocent mishap. I can visualize tomorrow’s headline in the Chicago Tribune: “Tragic Accident Claims Life of Rising Photographer.”
Boo-fucking-hoo.
Shaking my head to rid the murderous thoughts, I focus on the only thing that really matters.
Picking Addy up, I move to the kitchen where I can let her go and trap her in all the same. No way to get out except through me and that’s not happening. The instant I loosen my arms, I brace myself, and my harpy doesn’t disappoint.
Half a second later, I narrowly avoid the punch that she’s wickedly aimed squarely at my jaw. Grabbing her wrists in my hands, I yank her back into me and walk backward until she’s pressed again
st the wall, my stiff cock digging into her lower belly. Raising her trapped hands over her head, I lean down until my nose is only inches from hers.
“Are you happy with yourself?” she spits. Her eyes glow bright with anger and the threat of retribution, but fuck me, I don’t think I’ve ever been harder in my entire fucking life than I am right now.
“Very,” I grate. I take slow, measured breaths, trying to calm the raging storm that’s fighting to be unleashed. I need to kill or I need to fuck. I’m not sure I’ll be able to control the inferno boiling inside me if I don’t do one of those within the next two minutes.
And I certainly don’t plan on killing. I don’t need another body count added to the tally.
“You ruined a perfectly good date!”
“I don’t want you going out with him.”
Her chest heaves. Christ, she’s always beautiful, and when she’s all fired up she’s simply spellbinding. “Well, tough shit! I want a bulldog, a pair of Louboutins, and a man who will put me first for once. We don’t all get what we want, do we?”
I tuck all that information she just unknowingly gave me away. If I push her enough, she gives me exactly what I want whether she knows it or not. Every morsel I learn about her will help me in my cause to win her.
Addy has become the center of my world for longer than she realizes, longer than I care to admit, and she’d better believe she’ll get every fucking thing she wants and then some.
I don’t know what the hell a Louboutin is, but I’ll find out.
And a dog? Sounds easy enough. I like animals.
As for being first? She’s the only. I think back to her snide comment at the wedding about unrequited love and being the subject matter expert. She thinks I’m still in love with Livia. She couldn’t be more wrong. I wasn’t lying when I said Addy has eclipsed all thoughts of the woman I’ve been trying to get over and this week, barely seeing her? It’s never been more excruciatingly clear.
The pieces that make up Addy Monroe are starting to come together. Slowly but surely. Her love has gone unreciprocated. Just like mine. She’s scared to try again. At least, I’m not in that damn boat alone because the devil himself knows we’ll both need to bail the rising waters cooling our ankles at times.
“He’s not the man for you,” I tell her, lowering my voice yet not loosening my hold one iota. I’m no fool.
Exhibit A: Hands tightly secured.
Exhibit B: Body’s pinned nice and snug between me and the wall so I don’t end up sterile.
“Oh? And you are?” she mocks.
“Not even close, fireball. But that’s not going to stop me from having you anyway.”
Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth but decides against whatever clever retort she was about to vomit. We’re locked in a battle of wills. Her hazel eyes, which are rimmed with a thin ring of blue around the outer edge, bewitch me, binding me to her completely. Permanently.
My fiery gaze roams over every inch of her face, relishing in the fact her lipstick is still intact. It’s the only reason her date is still breathing.
I want to gorge on her.
Brand her.
Claim her.
Fucking mark every inch of her flesh so everyone knows she’s taken.
I ache for her to yield her stubborn will to me and me alone.
I have never experienced these overpowering feelings for a woman before. The thought of another man’s hands or lips on her all night has turned me into some wild, uncontrolled animal. I’m not at all the man she needs, but I’ll kill anyone who tries to take her from me. I am never letting her go.
“Stop.”
“Stop what?” I rasp, watching her full lips move. When her eyes close on a gasp, I realize I’m rocking my hips, pushing my hardened shaft into her. I bend my knees until I’m lined up with her core and thrust harder this time. A long moan, along with a plea to our lord and savior, falls from her parted lips.
“Luke, stop.” She’s breathless and not convincing in the least.
The need to reach under the hem of her dress, rip her panties to shreds, and fuck her where we stand is almost uncontrollable. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep from sinking into her hot pussy tonight, marking her as mine, mine, mine. Her body will only know my touch from now on.
“Stop what, fireball?” I run my nose along her cheek, nipping at her ear. Jesus fucking Christ, my entire body aches for hers. I feel like I’m burning alive.
“Looking like you want to eat me.”
Somewhere in the distance, I register the ring of a cell phone. Well, well, looks like Mr. Jensen wants to be sure little Red Riding Hood didn’t get eaten by the Big Bad Wolf.
She hasn’t. Yet.
But she will.
I let my lips graze her lobe as I declare my intent. “Oh baby, I don’t want to eat you. I want to devour you. Whole.”
The hitch in her breath tugs straight on my pulsing dick, causing him to twitch like mad. When I pull back, her hooded eyes are dilated in heady desire.
My stalwart control snaps.
I cannot go one more second without feeling her underneath my fingertips or my mouth. Securing her wrists with one hand, I slowly trail the other down the expanse of her bare arm, enjoying the shivers my touch produces.
I continue downward, letting my thumb graze the outside of her perfect tit before I dive lower to the place I desperately want to reach. At my first stroke on her bare thigh, the breath she expels washes over my neck, down the front of my tee. Grasping the lean meat, I start working my way back up, pushing the hem of her dress along with me. When I reach the golden treasure, I run my thumb along her drenched, panty-hidden seam and I almost come in my jeans.
“Fuck, fireball,” I groan. “You’re so damn wet for me already.”
“It’s…it’s not for you,” she pants.
I freeze, my eyes snapping to hers. So she’s gonna play it like that, is she? Challenge thrown, challenge fucking accepted, fireball.
“Is that so?” I rasp, my caress along the soaked silk becoming more insistent.
I briefly see the whites of her eyes before they once again lock on mine. Palpable desire flashes so fast I almost don’t see it before she hardens again in defiance. My fireball…she’s going to fight me tooth and nail through even the most intense pleasure I plan on heaping on her.
“That’s…so.”
My lips curl. Squeezing her wrists in warning before I release them, I reach behind her neck. Finding the zipper, I drag it down. She starts to lower her arms, but I reach up, firmly planting them back in place high on the wall.
“Don’t move, Addy,” I command, slow and deliberate, just daring her to defy me. My voice sounds like I just swallowed a load of gravel.
Her chest heaves as her body and mind no doubt war on whether to follow my demand. Her body wins, thank fuck.
Leaning down slightly, I grab the hem of her dress and drag it up over her head, her raised hands making for easy removal. I throw it in a ball on the counter beside me, leaving her before me in only heels that would look amazing by my ears, a strapless black bra that I want burned over a roaring fire, and a very wet silky black thong that has the thinnest of threads holding it on either side to her perfectly flared hips.
“Sweet Jesus, fireball.” Her stomach trembles as my finger traces the exposed, taut flesh along the top of her almost nonexistent panties. I count the moments until the rest of her is quivering beneath me. “You’re the sexiest fucking thing I have ever laid eyes on.”
My cock is literally ramming on the door of his metal prison, pissed as fuck he’s still behind bars, but that’s where he’ll stay until I’m good and ready to release him.
Because once he’s out, he’ll ravage.
Nudging her legs apart further, I almost weep at her exquisite compliance. I know a certain throbbing part of my anatomy is weeping…big time.
Her shallow, choppy breaths are sweet music to my ears as I run my middle finger back over her cloth-covered
lips, which could be wrung out now with her want. For me. And I’ll get her to admit it, come hell or high water.
Pressing my fully clothed body against hers, I grab ahold of her wrists again and growl, “Admit you’re wet for me, Addy.”
“Never,” she breathes, fisting her stubbornness tightly. Her body may have bent to my will, but it will be harder to get her mind to follow suit.
I find her opening, pushing my fabric-covered finger due north. Her hips buck at the unexpected intrusion as her head falls back against the shitty-grey-painted Sheetrock.
“Luke, God.”
I let my thumb flutter over her pebbled clit. It’s so fucking hard already and I’ve barely laid a finger on her. I can envision it peeking out from under its protective hood, waiting for my mouth, my tongue.
Mine. No one else’s.
I drive up further, wishing like hell she’d acquiesce so I can rip these fucking panties from her, drop to my knees, and eat my fill of what I’m sure will be the sweetest pussy I’ve ever put my lips on.
“Concede.”
“I won’t,” she pants.
But she will. She’s close. To both yielding and coming.
My thumb circles the most nerve-laden spot on her body faster, harder. She’s riding my hand like an expert equestrian. Fuck, I need her to submit. Now.
My fingers never losing their rhythm, I drop her wrists and fist her hair, pulling her lips to mine, groaning at the taste of her fire and tenacity. Her mouth opens willingly to the silent demand of my tongue and we begin the all too familiar clash for dominance that’s become our signature.
Deciding to change tactics, I let my damp finger slide underneath the drenched material and moan loudly at the first feel of her hot, smooth pussy which is wetter than I could possibly imagine. “Fuck, Addy. Fuck…this is for me,” I whisper against her now swollen lips. Sinking two fingers deep, she cries out and I croak, “Your body’s begging only for me. I want to feel you come around my fingers. Shudder under my mouth.”
I kiss her jaw, dragging my lips down her neck, over her exposed collarbone, tasting every inch of her I can as I leisurely pump my fingers in and out of her saturated channel, curling them just right. My pressure on her clit is light, not nearly enough to send her soaring.
