Provoke Me

by Cari Quinn

  Rather than worry or dwell, Kelly kept shopping. A little retail therapy never hurt anyone. Especially those newly and stupidly in love.

  After she paid for her purchases, she called Spencer and asked if he could come pick her up so she could get her car. He agreed, but only if she’d stay for a quickie dinner at the deli next to The Book Nook. Unsurprisingly, she couldn’t say yes fast enough.

  She already missed him. And he already missed her, if the vibe she’d picked up from his voice meant anything.

  Their quickie dinner was exactly that, a couple sandwiches in a back booth as far away from the door as possible. The entire time he watched said door as if he expected them to be found out at any moment.

  She didn’t get the big deal. Yeah, he was her boss but they were both adults. Anyone acquainted with Spencer knew nepotism would never be a factor in his world. He did everything by the book, always.

  Even so, her annoyance at his behavior was mitigated by the fact he’d so wanted to see her he’d risked supposed exposure. He’d even held her hand for a couple minutes across the table, discreetly hidden by the napkin dispenser. His concerns were almost cute, if viewed in the right way.

  She really wanted to view them the right way, rather than get pissed he was freaked out at the possibility of being seen with her.

  Before they parted, he kissed her—a real kiss, with tongue and wandering hands—shielded by a large fake tropical plant. His hot dark eyes never left hers while he ensured she’d be at Kink later that night and she merely nodded, incapable of speech. He’d whispered to her what he wanted to do in front of everyone, how he wanted to show her off, and she wasn’t about to deny him.

  This was it. She was going to have full-on public sex.

  By the time Kelly pulled up to the club, her case of nerves had reached epic proportions. Why full sex vexed her when she’d already been draped all over Spencer for the world to see, she didn’t know. But public penetration seemed different. More intense. Hotter. Almost as if they’d taken things to another level.

  And maybe she needed to lay off the snack cupcakes she’d been scarfing since dinner, because clearly excess sugar was making her loopy.

  Trying not to drag her feet, she took her spot at the end of the line, which already extended halfway across the parking lot. Apparently, Saturday night was all right for sexin’ too.

  “Kelly Crossman? No fucking way.”

  She stared ahead and hoped the ground would swallow her up. She recognized that slightly high-pitched voice. Just who she wanted to run into at Kink—an ex-boyfriend.

  She’d dated Paul Grimes briefly in college. He also had the dubious distinction of being her first lover.

  She hadn’t seen him in years. Naturally he’d show up tonight. Here.

  “Paul.” She turned and gave him her brightest smile. Then the smile died. Holy fuck, who was this gorgeous hulking specimen? The Paul she’d known had been kinda slight and not fully grown into his body yet. His hair had been prone to sticking out at odd angles and he hadn’t been a great dresser. They’d been lab partners who became good friends. Then even better friends. Even if her first time hadn’t been spectacular, they’d had a decent time together. “Wow. Paul.”

  He laughed and gave her a slow, thorough up-and-down look. The kind of look that told her he wanted to get on extremely friendly terms with her again. “Right back at you. Where’d you get all those curves?”

  “Weight-on shakes,” she said without thinking.

  He grinned. “Well, whatever the reason, you look good, Kel. Really good.”

  “Thanks, you too.” She shifted forward as the line moved, her pleasure at seeing him transforming into distress. This wasn’t her new pal Gary from the other night. She couldn’t play games with him she didn’t intend to finish.

  Maybe she’d misread his signals and he was only happy to see an old friend.

  “So you here to meet someone?” His hand found her hip, about two inches from her ass.

  So much for that hope.

  “Yes.” She bit her lip. “I sort of have a…lover.” Not boyfriend. That was a term Spencer would never wear comfortably.

  “A sort of lover. And he lets you come here alone?”

  “He doesn’t let me do anything. It’s not the 1800s.” Her ire comforted her as she slid out of reach of Paul’s groping hand. “But I usually meet him here.”

  “I see.”

  Did he? Moments like this reminded her why she found this whole situation so odd. It wasn’t normal to visit a sex club as casually as if you were going to the movies.

  Maybe she just had too many hang-ups. Hell, it seemed as though everyone and their cousin thought Kink was the place to be.

  She lifted her hair off the back of her neck as the line moved. “What about you?”

  “Single and loving it.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” He smiled and his hand found her hip again, ostensibly to nudge her forward. “So this sort-of lover of yours. Does he mind sharing?”

  Oh Lord. “I don’t know, truthfully.” He’d done it the other night, but he’d made it clear that it was a one-time event. “But I’m not into it.”

  Liar, liar.

  She almost asked how he’d changed so drastically since the last time she’d seen him but then she’d have to answer that question herself. Right now, that was the last thing she wanted to explain. If she even could.

  “Have you tried it before?”

  She glanced around the lot for Spencer’s car before answering. There were tons of people roaming about and she had no way of telling if he was already inside or at the back of the line. “Yeah, I have, actually. I’m not into it,” she said again. Maybe if she kept saying it, the lie would become the truth.

  If this line of conversation continued, she was going to whip out her cell phone and call Spencer. It wasn’t only that Paul was asking her questions unbefitting a man who’d once worn a pocket protector. It was that in this crazy environment, anything went. If she went inside and had a drink with him, she’d probably get drawn into the same sort of scenario she had the other night with Gary. And Dan.

  That wasn’t what she wanted. At all. Not with a guy she knew. One she’d known pretty damn well, once upon a time.

  They reached the door a couple minutes later. They’d had a pleasant conversation, sans references to sex, about their lives since the last time they’d seen each other. She mentioned the bookstore, he told her about his position as a museum curator. All talk of threesomes had been dropped.

  But then they walked inside, and before she knew it, they were on the dance floor. Even without benefit of alcohol, she liked to dance. She didn’t do it often, because she had a personal preference not to look like an uncoordinated amazon. But here she could be anyone she wanted to be and no one would notice or care.

  Paul, she discovered, had progressed way beyond the jerky rendition of the electric slide he’d performed the one and only time she’d ventured to a club with him during college. Now he had moves. Smooth, sensuous moves.

  He danced close as his hands slid down her arms. “Almost as good as sex,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers though he hadn’t moved to kiss her.

  Thank God. Enough parts of their bodies were making out already.

  She wore one of the two dresses she’d bought today. Short, black and backless, it revealed the requisite amount of skin, which made her feel entirely too exposed when the hands on her body weren’t Spencer’s. Especially when those hands were now on her shoulder blades, on her bare skin, and she wasn’t shaking them off.

  Paul’s head dipped toward hers as he picked up the pace. The expression in his eyes was hard to read in this light. One thing that wasn’t hard to notice, however, was the sizable erection digging into her belly.

  To avoid having to tell him no again, Kelly whirled around and linked her arms around his neck. She swayed against him but her mind was working way too fast for her to lose herself in the dance. Hi
s arms came around her waist, holding her nice and snug while the heat between them climbed exponentially.

  Spencer, where the fuck are you?

  All around them couples were in the same sorts of clinches and she was willing to bet none of the women were missing a man who hadn’t bothered to show up.

  She tried to tell herself he was busy. The lure of work was one she understood well. But he knew what kind of place this was, and he’d picked the damn time. Did he want her to hook up with some other guy? Maybe that had been his twisted agenda all along. He’d stepped between her and Gary, but he’d invited Dan to join them, hadn’t he? For all she knew, he’d set up their meeting tonight as a test.

  If so, she had a feeling she was about to fail.

  She still hadn’t called him. So what did that say about her? Did some part of her want him to find her with Paul?

  A wave of longing swept between her thighs at the memory of the other night. The look on Spencer’s face when Dan had been touching her, when he’d been fucking her breasts…

  Yeah, she wanted him to find her. More than anything, she wanted him to watch, however far things went. She’d never guessed she’d be into performing for a man—or in this case, a crowd—but knowing how turned-on it made him turned her on just as much. She just plain liked being the center of attention for once. Not all the time, but right now she was having fun.

  Was that wrong?

  It wasn’t cheating, not if her guy was okay with it. And he wasn’t even technically her guy, so where was the harm? She knew how she felt about Spencer, and no orgasm given or received from another man would change that.

  “Looks like your guy’s not here.” Paul’s breath felt warm and silky against her neck. “And I am.”

  Perhaps she should cut her losses and enjoy Paul. After all, a man in the bush beat one who’d gotten lost in the forest any day.

  She closed her eyes. Why couldn’t tonight be like the other night, when Spencer had shown up at the perfect time? She was enjoying herself, or she would be if she weren’t so tied up in knots about what was right and wrong. Nothing that had happened or would happen was to make Spencer jealous. It was just a natural response to a man she liked who found her attractive.

  It wasn’t as if she had a claim on Spencer, or vice versa. Most likely, she never would. Even if she spilled her heart at his feet like so much red goo, he’d step over the mess and keep right on going. Maybe sleeping with Paul was exactly what she needed to forget that for a little while.

  Forget? Yeah, right. And maybe she was kidding herself.

  “I take that back. I think your guy’s here.” A soft chuckle ruffled her hair. “Either that or I’m getting a death stare from some random stranger.”

  Her heart leapt against her breastbone. She almost imagined she could smell his crisp aftershave over the mix of leather, smoke and sweat that filled the room. But she didn’t look. That was part of the thrill.

  “Describe him,” she murmured, hoping Paul heard her.

  “Hard to see details, but he’s clean-cut. Well-dressed. Doesn’t look like he belongs here. He’s watching you.”

  Her pulse spiked. “Keep dancing.”

  “As you wish.”

  Paul cupped her hips to guide their rhythm and she let herself go, let her body move with his while her mind and heart were with Spencer. Somehow it shouldn’t be right to use Paul’s desire to increase her ultimate pleasure, but it felt good. Knowing other women wanted Spencer and him knowing the reverse was also true made everything between them that much more combustible.

  “He’s still watching,” Paul said as she gripped his thigh.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  She let her head drop back against Paul’s chest—bonus for her that he was so tall—and slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze went right to the man dominating her thoughts. He leaned against the wall, his hair haloed from the glow of the sconce just behind him. His face was mostly cast in shadows that defined the hollows in his cheeks and the granite-hard set of his jaw. Tonight he wore head-to-toe black, and when he pushed off the wall to advance toward her, prowl was the word that came to mind.

  Her clit throbbed. She wanted his mouth there, tugging on her swollen flesh as he’d savored her nipples last night. One flick of his tongue against her pussy and she’d go off, showering his chin with her release.

  Paul rubbed against her, his movements decidedly sexual even as Spencer approached. The delicious darkness in the curl of his lips didn’t frighten her or make her want to ask Paul to stop.

  He stopped in front of them but he didn’t speak. Nor did he touch her. She didn’t feel in control of what was happening any longer but her helplessness only increased her excitement. As she and Paul continued to dance, Spencer’s gaze slammed against hers, his face brutally clear even in the smoky atmosphere of the club. The heat contained in that single look set off a series of mini-explosions in her body. Her breath quickened and her skin prickled as if she’d been out in the sun too long. Still he stared, deep inside her to where she quivered and waited for him to make a move.

  And then she shocked herself by making that move instead.

  She gripped the hem of her dress, hiking it up her thigh. His urgent, seeking gaze dropped to the vee of her legs. Never before had she been consumed by a glance. Swallowed whole without even a single fingertip on her body to stem the overwhelming ache. Her hands shook as she fought with the material, unable to bare herself fast enough. A moan broke from her when the sultry breeze from the bodies swaying around them hit the damp material of her thong. God, she was burning up. Burning alive, trapped by her own longing.

  Paul’s cock brushed her ass as he moved against her, his hands still on her hips, his fingers so close to where she so desperately needed to be filled. But he didn’t do the honors. All three of them knew who she wanted there.

  Everything was so loud all of a sudden. The reggae music. The voices, the laughter. Her heartbeat a muted roar in her ears.

  Kelly wrenched aside the soaked strip binding her last vestige of control and gasped as air wafted over her dripping slit. She’d never needed so violently in her life. But he wouldn’t give her anything she hadn’t pleaded for first.

  “Kiss me,” she begged, her voice a guttural cry barely loud enough for him to hear.

  Kiss me? What the hell? If he went for her mouth, she’d freaking die.

  Spencer batted her hand away, splaying his much larger one low on her belly in a primitive caress. Beneath the heat of his palm, everything inside her clenched, waiting. Either her panties melted off her body or he ripped them away because the next thing she knew they were gone.

  He kneeled before her, gold hair shining, dark eyes pulling her down so far, so fast, she didn’t even know she’d fallen. Just before his mouth touched her, his hand flexed, fingers widening until it seemed as if he was everywhere at once. Inside her and out. Branding her so she’d never feel quite the same way for anyone else, ever again.

  She saw his nostrils flare an instant before the light changed and again plunged him into shadow. Rivulets of need soaked her inner thighs. Could he smell how much she wanted him? Then his tongue pierced her, his fingers spreading her open for his invasion, and she didn’t care about anything but taking him as far inside she could.

  Lost in sensation, Kelly threaded her fingers through his cornsilk hair. He was her tether to earth, her anchor when she wanted only to fly apart. His movements were both quick and slow, his rhythm impossible to learn. He sped up and her orgasm neared, slowed down and the scorching fire in her veins banked until he turned up the heat again.

  Firm hands massaged her upper arms in time with the subtle pumps of Paul’s hips against her ass. Her head lowered to his shoulder. If she hadn’t had the support of his rigid body behind her, she would’ve sunk to the floor.

  Her throat constricted as the intensity between her legs built, decimating the last of her inhibitions. She didn’t know what was going to happen. She wasn’t even sure which ma
n she’d be going home with that night. She wanted it to be Spencer. Prayed it would be. But there were no certainties and no safety clauses. There was only anticipation and urgency.

  That would have to be enough.

  Spencer’s thumbs rode up and down her swollen seam and her breath tripped in concert with her racing heart. Then his mouth covered her again and he ravaged her with lips, tongue and teeth, applying the same ultra-focus he applied to work to her trembling body.

  Now he was paying attention. There was no way he could make love to her like this and not know whose taste was trickling down his throat. She was the center of his universe, the only thing he could think about. If only for just this instant, she was to him what he’d been to her for so long.

  His head came up and their gazes connected, snatching her out of this moment and tossing her headfirst into something much darker and needier. Passion ruled here, and the man soothing her with long sweeping kisses along her neck couldn’t compete with the man at her feet.

  The tumble all the way into love was fast, the ground flying up to meet her. She couldn’t have stopped it if she tried.

  Spencer lowered his face to her again and she rocked her hips, her eyes sliding closed when the silken heat of his tongue drove deep. Vaguely she registered Paul’s hands closing over her breasts. He circled his palms, providing welcome friction to the sensitive tips.

  She wanted to keep this going, to somehow stave off the liquid pleasure coiling in her belly. Because if she didn’t, Spencer would stop and this unbelievable wordless connection between them would break. If she could only hold on just a bit longer, if she could manage to still her quaking thighs and subdue the furious pounding of her clit, she could make it last.

  Spencer sealed his lips around her aching flesh and pulled, shoving two fingers into her sheath at the same time. The hurricane inside her exploded. She fell back against Paul, her breath escaping in a soundless scream, her nails dragging along Spencer’s scalp as she struggled to keep him right where he was.