by Maisey Yates
“It isn’t,” she insisted. “I love what we do. I’m so proud of what we’ve built, Isaiah. I’m not ever going to do anything to compromise that. I think I might have overextended myself a little bit with...extra stuff.”
“What kind of extra stuff?”
“Just...community work.”
Getting screwed senseless for the first time in my life...
“You don’t need to do that. Joshua can handle all of that. It’s part of his job. You should filter it all through him. He’ll help you figure out what you should say yes to, what you can just send a signed letter to...”
“I know. I know you’ll both help me. But at some point... Isaiah, this is my life.” She took a breath. “We are partners. And I appreciate all that you do. If I had to calculate the finances like you, I would go insane. My brain would literally leak out of my ears.”
“It would not literally leak out of your ears.”
She squinted. “You don’t know that.”
“I’m pretty confident that I do.”
She shook her head. “Just don’t worry about me. You have a life now. A really good one. I’m so happy for you and Poppy. I’m so excited for your baby, and for...everything. You’ve spent too many years working like a crazy person.”
“Like a robot,” Isaiah said, lifting his brow. “At least, that’s what I’ve been told more than once.”
“You’re not a robot. You came here to check on me. That makes it obvious that you aren’t. But, you also can’t carry everything for me. Not anymore. It’s just not... I don’t need you to. It’s okay.”
“You know we worry. We worry because you’re right. If it weren’t for us...then you wouldn’t be in this position.”
She made a scoffing sound. “Thanks. But if it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be in this position, either.”
“I know,” he returned. “I mean, I would still be working in finance somewhere else. Joshua would be doing PR. And you would no doubt be working at a big firm somewhere. But it’s what we could do together that has brought our business to this level. And I think Joshua and I worry sometimes that it happened really quickly for you and we enabled that. So, we don’t want to leave it all resting on your shoulders now.”
She swallowed hard. “I appreciate that. I do. But I can handle it.”
Isaiah nodded slowly and then turned and walked out of her office.
She could handle all of this.
Her job, which encouraged her to open up some files for her various projects and collect those estimates Isaiah was asking for, and this new turn of events with Levi.
She was determined to finish the project. The idea of leaving it undone didn’t work for her. Not at all. Even if he was being terrible.
And you think you can be in the same room with him and not feel like you’re dying?
She didn’t know. She had just lost her virginity twelve hours ago, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do next.
Sitting at her desk and basking in that achievement was about all she could do. It was lunchtime when she got into her car and began to drive.
She had spent the rest of the morning trying to catch up, and as soon as she got on the road her thoughts began to wander. Back to what Levi had said to her last night. All the various warnings he had given. About how rough he was. How broken. And in truth, he had not been gentle. But none of it had harmed her. It might have hurt her momentarily, but that pain wasn’t something she minded.
Maybe...
Maybe he had been right.
Maybe the whole thing was something she’d been ill-prepared for. Something she shouldn’t have pushed for. Because, while physically she had been completely all right with everything that had happened, emotionally she wasn’t okay with being pushed away.
And maybe that was the real caution in this story.
He had gone on and on about all that he believed she could handle and she had imagined he meant what she could handle from a sexual-sophistication standpoint. Moves and skills and the knowledge of how things went between men and women.
But that had been the easy part. Following his lead. Allowing his hands, his mouth, his... All of him, to take her on a journey.
But afterward...
She frowned, and it was only then that she realized which direction she was driving.
And she knew she had a choice.
She could keep on going, or she could turn back.
But even as she thought it, she knew the truth. It was too late.
She couldn’t go back.
She might have a better understanding of things after last night, and with everything she knew now, she might have made a different decision in that bar.
But she had to go forward.
With that in mind, she turned onto the winding road that led up to Levi’s house.
And she didn’t look back.
* * *
When Levi heard the knock on his door, he was less than amused. He was not in the mood to be preached at, subjected to a sales pitch or offered Girl Scout cookies. And he could legitimately think of no other reason why anyone would be knocking on his door. So he pulled it open on a growl, and then froze.
“You’re not a Jehovah’s Witness.”
Faith cleared her throat. “Not last I checked.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’m Baptist, but—”
“That’s not really relevant.”
Her lips twitched. “Well... I guess not to this conversation, no.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I felt like I was owed a chance to have a conversation with you when I wasn’t naked and waiting to be returned to my car.”
When she put it like that... He felt like even more of a dick. He hadn’t thought that was possible.
“Go ahead,” he said, extending his hand out.
“Oh. I didn’t think... Maybe you should invite me in?”
“Should I?”
“It would be the polite thing to do.”
“Well, you’ll have to forgive me. In all the excitement of the last few years of my life, I’ve forgotten what the polite thing is.”
“Oh, that’s BS.” And she breezed past him and stamped into the house. “I understand that’s your excuse of choice when it comes to all of your behavior. But I don’t buy it.”
“My excuse?” he asked. “I’m glad to know you consider five years in prison to be an excuse.”
“I’m just saying that if you know you’re behaving badly you could probably behave less badly.”
He snorted. “You have a lot of unearned opinions.”
“Well, maybe help me earn some of them. Stop making pronouncements at me about how I don’t know what I’m doing and help me figure out what I’m doing. We had sex. We can’t change that. I don’t want to change it.”
“Faith...”
“I don’t see why we can’t...keep having sex. I’m designing a house for you. There’s a natural end to our acquaintance. It’s...” She laughed, shaking her head. “You know, when my brother Isaiah proposed to his wife he told her it made sense. That it was logical. And I was angry at him because it was the least romantic thing I’d ever heard.”
“I’m not sure I follow you.”
“They weren’t dating. She was his assistant. He was looking for a wife, and because he thought she was such a good assistant it meant she would likely make a good wife.”
“And that went well for him?”
“Well, not at first. And I was angry at him. I hated the fact that he was turning something personal into a rational numbers game. It didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem fair. But now it kind of makes sense to me. Not that we are talking about marriage, but...an arrangement. Being near each other is going to be difficult after what we shared.”
“I’m fine,” he lied, taking a step away fr
om her and her far-too-earnest face.
If fine was existing in a bad mood with a persistent hard-on, yeah, he was fine.
“I’m not,” she said softly.
She took a step toward him, just like she had done on those other occasions. Like a kid who kept reaching her hand toward the stove, even though she’d been burned.
That he thought of that metaphor should be the first clue he needed to take a step away. But he didn’t.
It’s too late.
The damage had already been done.
The time in prison had already changed him. Hell, maybe the damage had been done when he was born. His father’s genes flowing through his veins were far too powerful for Levi to fight against.
“Until you’re done designing the house,” he said, his voice hard. “Just until then.”
Her shoulders sagged in relief, and the look of vulnerability on her face would have made a better man rethink everything.
But Levi wasn’t a better man. And he had no intention of attempting to be one at this point.
“I’m supposed to be at work,” she said. “I really should get back.”
He reached out and grabbed the handle on the front door, shutting it hard behind her. “No,” he said. “Baby, you stepped into the lion’s den. And you’re not leaving until I’m good and ready for you to leave.”
“But work,” she said, her voice small.
“But this,” he responded, wrapping his hand around her wrist and dragging her palm toward him. He pressed it against that hard-on making itself known in the front of his jeans.
“Oh,” she said, pressing her palm more firmly down and rubbing against him.
“You want to do this, we’re doing it my way,” he said. “I didn’t know you were a virgin the first time, but now it’s done. Taken care of. I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re inexperienced, do you understand?”
And he wasn’t sure she had any idea at all what she was agreeing to. She nodded again.
If he was a better man, that, too, might have given him pause.
But he wasn’t. So it didn’t.
“I like to be in charge. And I don’t have patience for inhibition. Do you understand me?” She looked up at him, those eyes wide. He didn’t think she understood at all. “That means if you want to do it, you do it. If you want me to do it, you ask for it. Don’t hide your body from me, and I won’t hide mine from you. I want to see you. I want to touch you everywhere. And there’s no limit to what I’m going to do. That means the same goes for you. You can do whatever you want to me.”
“But you’re in charge,” she said faintly.
“And that’s my rule. If you think it’ll feel good, do it. For you, for me.” He leaned in, cupping her head in his hand and looking at her intently. “Sex can be a chore. If you’re in a relationship with someone for a long time and there’s no spark between you anymore—which doesn’t happen on accident, you have to stop caring—then it can be perfunctory. Lights off. Something you just do. Like eating dinner.
“Now, if there’s no emotional divide I don’t mind routine sex. There’s a comfort in it. But I hadn’t had sex in five years. There is no routine for me. That means I want raw. I want dirty. Because it can be that, too. It can be wild and intense. It can be slow and easy. It can be deliciously filthy. Sex can make you agree to things, say things, do things that if you were in your right mind you would find...objectionable. But when you’re turned on, a lot of things seem like a good idea when they wouldn’t otherwise. And that’s the space I want to go to with you. That means no thinking. Just feeling.”
Then he lifted her up and slung her over his shoulder. She squeaked, but she didn’t fight his hold as he carried her out of the entry and up the stairs.
“You don’t have your custom orgy bed yet.”
He chuckled as they made their way down the hall, and he kicked open the door with his foot. “Well, we’re not having an orgy, are we? This is a party for two.”
“How pedestrian. It must be so boring for you.”
“No talking, either.”
He laid her down on the bed and she looked up at him, mutinous.
“Did you have a bra to wear today?”
“Yes.”
“I have your other one.”
She squinted. “I have more than one. I have more than two.”
“Let me see this one.”
She shifted, sat up and pulled her top over her head, exposing the red lace bra she had underneath. Then she reached behind herself, unzipped her pencil skirt and tugged it down, revealing her pair of matching panties.
“Damn,” he said. “Last night, before we started, I’d planned on that side-of-the-road stuff being just the introduction.”
“Yes, and then you got ridiculous.”
“I tried,” he said, his voice rough. “I tried not to be a monster, Faith. Because I might not have known you were a virgin, or at least I didn’t admit it to myself, but I knew that...my hands are dirty. I’m just gonna get you dirty.”
She looked up at him, and the confusion and hope in her eyes reached down inside him and twisted hard. “You said sex was fun when it was dirty.”
“Different kinds of dirty, sweetheart.”
She eased back, propping herself up on her forearms. It surprised him how bold she was, and suddenly, he wanted to know more. About this little enigma wrapped in red lace. An architectural genius. So advanced in so many ways, and so new in others.
“Take your bra and panties off,” he commanded.
She reached back and unclipped her bra, pulling it off quickly. There was a slight hesitation when she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and started to pull them down. But only a slight one.
She wiggled out of them, throwing them onto the floor.
She kept the same position, lying back, not covering herself. Exposing her entire, gorgeous body.
Small, perfect breasts with pale pink nipples and a thatch of dark curls between her legs.
“I wanted to do the right thing. Just once. Even if I’d already done the wrong thing. But I give up, babe. I give the hell up.”
He moved toward the edge of the bed, curved his arms up around her hips and dragged her toward him, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. She made a small, kittenish sound as he moved farther down, nuzzled her center and then took a leisurely lick, like she was the finest dessert he’d ever encountered. She squirmed, squeaking as he held her more tightly, and he brought her fully against his face and began to devour her.
It had been so long. So long since he’d tasted a woman like this, and even then...
Faith was sweeter than anyone.
Faith wiped away the memory of any previous lover. Doing this for her was like a gift to himself.
He brought his hand between her legs and pressed two fingers deep inside her, working them in and out, in time with his tongue. He could feel her orgasm winding up tight inside of her. Could feel little shivers in her internal muscles, her body slippery with need. He drew out that slickness, rubbing two fingers over her clit before bringing his lips back down and sucking that bundle of nerves into his mouth as he plunged his fingers back in. She screamed, going stiff and coming hard, those muscles like a vise around his fingers now as her climax poured through her.
By the time she was finished, he was so damn hard he thought he was going to break in two.
He stood up, stripped his shirt over his head and came back down on the bed beside her.
She was looking at him with a kind of clouded wonder in her eyes, delicate fingertips tracing over the lines on his arms. “These are beautiful,” she said.
“You want to talk about my tattoos now?”
“That was great,” she said, breathless. “But I was waiting to see these.”
“Celtic knot,” he said, speak
ing of the intricate designs on his arms. That wasn’t terribly personal. He’d had it done when he was eighteen and kind of an idiot. He’d hated his father and had wanted to find some identity beyond being that man’s son. Inking some of his Irish heritage on his skin, making it about some long-dead ancestors, had seemed like a way to do that at the time.
Or at least that’s what he’d told himself.
Now Levi figured it was mostly an attempt at looking like a badass and impressing women.
“And the bird?” she pressed.
Freedom. Simple as that. Also not something he was going to talk about with a hard-on.
“I like bird-watching,” he said, his lips twitching slightly. “Now, no talking.”
He gripped her chin and pulled her forward, kissing her mouth and letting her taste her own arousal there.
He took her deeper, higher, playing between her legs while he reached into his bedside table to get a condom.
Her head was thrown back, her breasts arched up toward him. Her lips, swollen from kissing, parted in pleasure. She was his every dirty dream, this sweet little angel.
He kept on teasing her, tormenting her with his fingers while he lifted the condom packet to his lips with his free hand and tore it with his teeth. Then he rolled it onto his length, slowly, taking his position against the entrance of her body.
She was so hot. So slick and ready for him. He couldn’t resist the chance to tease them both just a little bit more.
He held himself firmly at the base and arched his hips forward, sliding through those sweet folds of hers, pushing down against her clit and reveling in her hoarse sound of pleasure.
He wasn’t made for her. There was no doubt about that. He was hard, scarred and far too broken to ever be of any use to her. But as he pressed the thick head of his erection against her, as he slid into her tight heat, inch by agonizing inch, he wondered if she wasn’t made for him.
She gasped, arching against him, this time not in pain. Not like the first time.
She held on to his shoulders, her fingertips digging into his skin as he thrust into her, pulling out slowly before pressing himself back home.
Again. And again.
