Tell Me What You Feel

by Susan Sheehey

  A cold sweat formed at his neck, and his stomach churned.

  His heart rate slowly climbed…

  “Riggs?” Skylar’s distant voice barely came through.

  He looked at her beautiful face, but didn’t register her expression. He gave his practiced smile again, not sure how convincing it came out.

  The antique-looking walls now reminded him of the sides of that mud-hut in the desert, covered in debris.

  “Are you feeling sick?” she asked, her voice a little more present.

  “I’m fine.” Riggs managed to grab his water, and down several gulps.

  “You’re really pale.” She reached forward and touched his wrist, feeling for his pulse.

  He pulled back, and grabbed his wine to deflect the attention. The alcohol tasted bitter down his throat. “Excuse me for a minute. I’ll be right back.” He focused on keeping his cool during the walk to the restroom.

  The second the stall door closed, he threw up the wine.

  Riggs splashed water on his face from the sink. Only to notice his hands shaking. “Get it together, man.”

  Skylar

  Riggs’ chair remained empty for at least five minutes. She refused to touch her food until he returned.

  The way his face had lost all color, and the sudden silence had worried her at first. Skylar had gone through her mental checklist of symptoms for stroke or precursors for cardiac arrest. Then she remembered their previous discussion of amputated toes and knife fights. She cringed. “So stupid, Sky. Well done.” She’d grossed him out. Not everyone could handle those kinds of graphic topics. “Now, he’ll bolt for sure.”

  The waiter came by to check on her, twice.

  She politely declined, and continued rolling the wine glass between her fingers. Her arms chilled from the air conditioner overhead.

  After several more minutes, she was about to go burst into the men’s room to check on him.

  Until Riggs appeared, walking confidently back to their table.

  If she wasn’t so concerned about him, she might’ve just plastered herself against him. Because, damn, the man could wear a suit.

  Form fitting, with a pristine French cuff shirt, and the silk tie reminded her of the cover of several erotic romance novels. One would never have known Riggs had been sweating bullets a few minutes earlier.

  “Feeling better?”

  “Much.” His smile nearly knocked her off her seat as he took his.

  “I’m sorry,” Skylar breathed.

  “For what?” Riggs’ gaze locked on hers.

  “I often go into nurse mode, and forget that topic is too graphic for most.”

  He sipped his water. “That’s not it at all. No topic is off limits for me. And I think your nurse mode is adorable.”

  She blushed, but doubt still circled in her mind.

  “Are you still hungry?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  He nodded. “We’ll pack this up to go. I’d like to take you somewhere.”

  She lifted her chin. “Oh?”

  “You’ll like it. Trust me.” His gaze nearly glittered with playfulness.

  “We should talk about that first.”

  Riggs tilted his head.

  “Re-establishing trust.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m all for that.”

  “This is new territory for me. So, if we’re moving forward, I need to know a few things.”

  “Ask me anything.”

  Time for some truth. “How did you get into escorting?” Skylar tilted back against her seat, and crossed her legs. Putting a little more distance between them to help her think more clearly.

  “You mean a Knight.”

  “What’s the distinction?”

  “Knights focus on what the client needs, not just what they pay for. More exclusive.”

  She took a deep breath. How was any different than other escorts? Not like she had any experience. “How’d you get into it?”

  “A few of my Marine buddies became Knights after coming home from overseas. They brought me in.”

  “Is it your primary job?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have a few questions about…the role.”

  “I’ll tell you what I can.”

  “There are rules on disclosure?”

  “Of course. Many.” His tone was direct, more pragmatic. “Which is why you won’t find me on social media.”

  That makes sense.

  She sipped her wine. The way he sat in the chair was so casual, but simultaneously dominant, and far too appealing. “How long have you been in…the business?”

  “Two years.”

  Skylar swallowed, preparing for the bitter answer. “Do you sleep with your clients?”

  His jaw flexed, but he revealed no emotion. “Some.”

  “But not all?”

  He shook his head.

  “Did you sleep with me because my sister paid you?”

  “Absolutely not.” Riggs’ stare was intense.

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s illegal to accept payment for sex.”

  Skylar refrained from rolling her eyes. “I’m not going to report you. Level with me.”

  He leaned forward, and took her hand in his. His tense gaze made her hold her breath. “I choose who I sleep with. I chose you. Job or no job. And I’m damn glad we did.”

  So am I.

  She squeezed her legs together, remembering how completely he filled her, the pressure of his body between her thighs, the heat…the multiple climaxes. She wasn’t cold anymore under the air conditioner. She was actually thankful for it now. Clearly, her body wanted more.

  More Riggs.

  Her moral sensibilities wouldn’t approve of paying for a relationship. No matter what technicality kept it legal. Wren may have been the type to hire a man, but not Skylar. Nor Phoebe.

  She blinked. “Was my sister ever your client?”

  “Never.”

  She let out a breath. Skylar couldn’t bear the thought…

  “You’re obviously struggling with the concept of payment,” Riggs’ said.

  “Yes.”

  Why is my heart racing?

  “I thought I made that clear.”

  She blinked again.

  “With you.” He caressed her wrist, up to her elbow, setting off electrical sparks straight to her core, “You’re not a job. Just good food, good company.”

  “What if it’s more than food?”

  A lot more.

  His gaze turned hungry. "Then I’m a damn lucky man."

  God, the way he’d said that, the anticipation, the promise…

  What's the harm, Sky?

  The voice in her head was soothing, and strangely like Phoebe’s.

  Be safe, and enjoy it.

  Be safe. She’d never felt scared with him, or threatened.

  The man was certainly an expert, and now she knew how he’d gotten that good. Since she was such a novice in that area, who better to enlighten her? With her crazy work hours, a serious relationship probably had zero chance anyway.

  Nor did she think his role as a Knight allowed serious relationships.

  But…Riggs probably had several women—clients—beg for a real relationship with him. Yet, here he asked for more with Skylar. Without receiving a paycheck. Didn’t that show he was more serious than wanting a score or a regular in his calendar?

  “You’re thinking too hard, again.” He flashed a sexy grin.

  “If I were to invite you back to my place again, would you charge for that?”

  His grin widened. “Normally, yes. But for you, I’ll always make an exception.”

  “Good. Because I’m starving.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Riggs

  His mouth had watered the whole drive, following Skylar’s car in his pickup. Climbing the stairs to her apartment, her dress swayed so deliciously high, revealing those creamy thighs.

  Riggs bit his lip to keep fr
om audibly groaning.

  Starving, indeed.

  The second her apartment door closed, he shoved his hands in his pockets. Otherwise, he would’ve pushed her against the wall and taken her right there. This woman pushed the limits of his control.

  Which was against one of the primary rules of a Knight.

  Maintain control.

  How desperately he wanted to bring her back to his place. It was half the distance from the restaurant, but yet another strict rule about maintaining privacy.

  So many damn rules.

  The room smelled like sugared apples and caramel.

  Skylar kicked off her heels, and when her adorable bare feet scrunched into the carpet, she sighed.

  Her smile was so sweet, and equally desirable.

  “What?” she asked.

  “To hell with the rules.” Riggs lurched forward, and cupped her neck.

  When he seared his lips against hers, she gasped.

  Then clasped her arms around his shoulders, dragging her nails down the back of his head.

  He groaned, his dick screaming for attention.

  Skylar’s sweet and heady scent swirled around him, like a drug hitting his blood stream.

  He shuffled her back to the kitchen counter. When her hips reached the cabinet, he lifted her onto the edge.

  She wrapped her legs around his ass, and pulled on his belt buckle.

  Thank God the wrap-style dress easily pulled open from the thin sash at her waist, because he’d been dreaming of her cleavage for two weeks.

  The fabric fell away, revealing a lacy black bra, designed with straps across the front like a corset. Lifting her breasts in the perfect teasing position.

  Skylar isn’t a client, anyway. Free reign.

  She unzipped his pants, and pushed the waistband over his hips, along with his boxer briefs. Freeing him to her eager fingers.

  The second her hands wrapped around his erection, he hissed. Her soft fingers glided along his shaft so smoothly. Like an expert at simultaneous healing and pleasure. Her touch traveled farther south and cupped his balls.

  A surge twanged through his nerves. He swept his tongue into her mouth, claiming her gasp.

  Reaching under the skirt of her dress, he hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties, and slowly slid them down her hips. Skylar lifted her ass for a second, and he pulled the thin fabric off the rest of the way. Then trailed his fingertips up her legs, past her knees to the junction of her thighs. The heat intensified the closer he drew to her center.

  She spread her knees.

  His mouth watered as he skimmed his finger along her center. So wet, so plump, and the heat…holy hell.

  She moaned when he slid deeper, finding that swollen nub and circling it with the pad of his finger.

  Her body swayed into him, and she tilted her head back.

  “Is this what you were hungry for?”

  “Mm-hm…” Skylar licked her bottom lip, so rosy like the color of her wine at dinner. Her eyelashes fluttered across her skin, dark and thick. Her grip tightened on his dick in time with his circling on her clit. Stretching him another inch.

  “Do I get a taste, too?” Riggs asked, his voice husky and low.

  Her eyes opened, those glorious shamrock irises dilated in dark pools.

  He nipped on her chin, then trailed kisses down her neck, under her collar bone, to her cleavage. Lingering between her breasts, where her sultry perfume intensified. He breathed her in like a fine brandy.

  Goosebumps rose on her skin.

  He traveled farther south to her navel, dropping kisses every other inch.

  Finally, he reached her sex. Her little pearl nestled in her folds, dark pink and prime for attention.

  Riggs gripped her ass, pulling her closer to the edge, giving him full access. Then, he slowly licked along the crease, and swirled around the nub.

  She mewled, the sweet sound driving his cock crazy. Her fingers scraped along his scalp, threading and tangling in his hair. Urging him on.

  “So good,” he breathed.

  “Yes,” Skylar moaned. “More.”

  “My personal buffet.” He sucked the pearl into his mouth, rubbing his tongue along her clit like a lollipop.

  She bucked, and gripped the edge of the counter. “Oh, damn…yes. Yes.” Her voice rose half an octave, along with her moans.

  Oh, yes.

  Skylar was already close to climax, driving his own fervor up a few notches. There was no better sound in the world than this woman reaching peak. No sweeter pain than her fingernails on his scalp, clawing for release.

  With relentless focus, Riggs nipped and laved her sex like an addiction. Dipping his tongue in and out of her, always circling back to his favorite sweet spot that drove her wild.

  Her body rocked to the same rhythm of his tongue, and each moan built in pitch. Her breathing turned to little gasps, and her whole body flushed pink.

  “Just like candy,” he muttered. “Come for me, Skylar.” He slipped his finger inside, her sheath so hot and tight he could barely control himself. His tongue circled her bud again and again, and he pumped two fingers inside. Then curled up his knuckles to reach her G-spot.

  Driving her body crazy both inside and out.

  Her hips shook, and her scream echoed off the kitchen walls. She grappled a tight hold on his head, holding on for the ride.

  The spasms squeezed his knuckles so tight, her wet nectar dripping down his fingers. He drank her in, so creamy and savory. His cock threatened to explode.

  Riggs reached for his pants pooled at his feet, digging in the pockets for a condom. Always prepared.

  Especially with Skylar.

  She’d claimed she was inexperienced, but damn if he loved bringing the vixen out of her. A truly voracious lover, so responsive.

  He quickly slipped on the condom, and grabbed her hips, centering himself at her sex.

  Her body glistened in that glorious pink blush from face to feet. Shit, he wanted to bathe in it.

  “Are you ready?” he managed to strangle out.

  “Ready?” she panted. “I’m still recovering.”

  “We only just started.” He slammed into her on the last word. Growling out his desperation. The heat enveloped his dick like a solar flare, pulling him in deeper. He could feel beads of sweat form on his forehead, as he restrained himself from losing it.

  Riggs held her right there braced on the counter, letting her body adjust to his length, and catch her breath. The urge to move and grind was too great to resist. He pulled out all the way to the tip, slow and smooth, every millimeter sucking along his skin in sublime pressure. Then plunged in to the hilt.

  “Oh, God,” Skylar breathed.

  “I want another one from you,” he growled. He tilted her back, angling her sex forward to give him even more access. Then repeated the motion several more times, painstakingly slow.

  Her lustful expression reminded him of a pinup girl, so innocent and sweet…loving her first taste of deliciously bad behavior. There was nothing bad about Skylar. Every part of her was so good.

  Tempting. Irresistible.

  Watching her body respond to his touch, his plunging in and out of her, made her red bud emerge from her folds. Begging for more attention. As he thrusted, Riggs thumbed her clit. Rubbing, circling, loving on her pleasure center. Straining to keep from exploding before she had her second release.

  Her eyes widened again, her little pants growing higher.

  “That’s it, Sky…” He ground his teeth. “Ride me. Ride me right off the edge.”

  Her head tilted back, and her nails gripped onto his chest. Scraping down his skin, leaving white trails as he pumped harder. Sublime torture.

  Her legs tightened around his ass.

  His sac tugged upward. Blinding heat surged his body.

  Not yet. Just a few more…

  Riggs’ knees shook, but he had to hold on. Hold back, until she reached that mountain top first.

  Her sex sque
ezed around him in fast bursts. Siphoning his last restraint.

  His release shot out of him like a swirling bottle rocket, her body milking him of every drop.

  Eventually, he pulled her torso into his frame, holding onto her as his dick slipped from her body.

  Drained. Satiated.

  The room smelled like caramel and sex.

  The rest of his brain felt like mush.

  “I need a shower.” Skylar rubbed slow, soft circled on his bare back. “Care to join me?”

  “When I can feel my legs again.”

  Skylar

  The steaming water was nothing compared the nuclear heat from their bodies. She relished the spray on her chest, running down her body to rinse between her legs.

  Riggs lathered her back with the soap, his rough hands sliding across her smooth skin like her own personal, in-home massage.

  Skylar turned, and took the bar from him. Rubbing a lather in her fingers, she handed it back, and washed his abs. So hard and defined, yet soft to the touch. She moved farther down to his dick and sac, letting the bubbles soothe around his shaft, slipping along his length and stretching him out to reach every pore. The added attention made him thicken.

  He hummed his approval, and let his head rest against the tiles.

  Water streamed down his chest. Careening over the white scar at his shoulder. A vicious, puckered spider web spanning out to the size of a Ping-Pong ball.

  “What’s this from?” She trailed her finger around the edges.

  Without opening his eyes, Riggs gave a small smile. “Got in a fight with a unicorn.”

  She scoffed.

  He looked at her with that charming mischievous expression she couldn’t resist. “Tattoo, to make me look tougher. Women dig scars, don’t they?”

  “Only if they’re really gruesome. I’m an OR nurse. I’ve seen them all, so they need to impress me.”

  Riggs chuffed out a laugh, his smile fading.

  “Is that from Afghanistan?”

  He nodded.

  “How long did that take to heal?”

  The muscles in his neck moved as he swallowed. His smile vanished. “A few months.”

  “Where did you do your PT?”

  “Walter Reed. I swear, my therapist was a former drill instructor. Mean ol’ bastard.”