by Cari Quinn
Most likely she was losing it.
She needed to get away to think. The longer she stayed around him, the less she knew herself. Which was all well and good while the party was raging but wouldn’t be nearly so much fun when she ended up the last, lonely guest.
“I really should be getting home,” she added, since confessing her fatigue hadn’t had the desired effect. He was still caressing her, still making love to her with his destructively magnetic gaze.
“No, what you should be getting is wet.” He slipped his hand between her sticky thighs and smiled as he discovered she already was. “Making you come seems to be my new addiction,” he murmured, rotating his thumb around her clit. His finger probed her damp folds until she squirmed. “Especially when you don’t want to.”
“I always want to with you.” Wasn’t that half the problem? Her body had no reserves against him.
“Lie back.”
Saying no wasn’t an option. She rested her head on his shoulder as she propped her foot on the back of the couch, opening herself up to him. Again. His fingers played over her until her juice dripped between the cheeks of her ass and her abused clit screamed for relief. She whimpered against his neck, her lips tracing his stubbled throat. Three fingers fucked her without mercy, driving deep then sliding away every time her pussy started to spasm. Finally she could take no more. She gripped his wrist and held him still, impaling herself until she flooded his palm.
Mid-kiss, her moans spilled into his mouth. When she quivered, he ran his lips over her cheeks, her jaw, her eyelids. Reverently. As if she mattered.
Seeing the reality of her situation was the only way to kill crazy thoughts like that. Ignoring every urge that made her want to cuddle, she drew her face away. Sleep threatened to drag her under, but she forced herself to open her eyes.
But what she saw didn’t kill anything. Sometimes he stared at her—like right now—as if he were trying to peer inside her skull. What was he looking for? And would she offer it freely if she knew?
“Will you come home with me?” One hand still cupped her while the other finger-combed her tousled hair. “To sleep?”
Even half-TKO’d from half a dozen orgasms, she knew when something big was happening. Well, other than the thick hard-on that had only grown during his ministrations. “I thought you wanted to split me open again.”
“That is a tempting proposition.” His mouth softened, stage one of Spencer almost smiling. “But it’s late. And we both need to get some rest. I keep wearing you out.”
“No arguments there.” She wet her parched lips. “In your bed? Together? All night?”
“Yes.” He flashed her a real smile. “All five hours that are left of it before we have to head to work.”
“Well, you don’t have to go in that early,” she said, speaking louder to drown out the thundering of her heart. “Big boss man can do what he wants.”
“I have a lot to do.” He skimmed his thumb over her lower lip and her head spun as she picked up her own scent. “I’m leaving early next week to head out to Virginia.”
“For how long?” She hated the vulnerability she heard in her voice. Dammit, so what if he took a short trip? They weren’t together. Not in any true, lasting sense.
“A week probably. This time. Kelly…” She waited as he trailed off, then he shook his head and slid her dress down her thighs. “Let’s go.”
He remained quiet throughout the drive to his place. The air between them was rife with things unsaid, but she knew pressing him to tell her was next to useless. Even when he pulled her against him when they were naked in his bed, he didn’t say anything beyond a terse “Good night.” After setting the alarm for five as she’d requested, he turned off the light.
Somehow she slept. She’d thought she would lay in the dark and fret, something she’d become exceptionally good at recently. But the moment his arm came around her waist, she closed her eyes and drifted off.
She dreamed, and that in itself was unusual. She rarely dreamed or she didn’t often remember the dreams if she did. This one was so vivid, so heartbreakingly realistic that her eyes were wet when she woke.
Alone. Again.
A glance at the clock showed her it was only three thirty. Waking before her alarm was another tendency of hers. She hated waking to music, but waking to silence was ten times worse. She rarely woke with a man, and she hadn’t this time either.
The shower was silent, so maybe he’d gone for a run. But in the middle of the night? She wouldn’t put it past him. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d said he never slept. If he kept on the way he had been, he’d crash and burn in no time.
“Not your problem,” she said under her breath as she turned off the alarm and got out of bed.
Taking a shower made the most sense but she didn’t have fresh clothes to wear. She indulged herself by pulling on the T-shirt she found stacked at the top of his laundry basket. It smelled faintly of his deodorant and his soap. Just his alpine scent had her nipples rising as the cotton slid over her head and down her body. She’d bet he’d worn the shirt a handful of times.
Like his smiles, his casual wear didn’t get a lot of use.
She found him in his office. He’d pulled on black pajama pants and her heartbeat spiked at the sight of his bare, muscled back. A gooseneck lamp shot a triangle of light over the paper in front of him but his head was turned toward the window facing the hanging feeder where birds were beginning to sing.
A bird-feeder? Spencer? She glanced from the little hanging tube illuminated by the motion sensor above it back to him. His chin rested on his hand and his lashes made a shadow over his cheek.
Wonder of all wonders, Superman’s apprentice had fallen asleep.
Kelly rubbed her palm over the ache in her chest. She couldn’t decide if she was annoyed he wouldn’t take care of himself or hurt that he’d rather doze at his desk than by her side. Gusting out a sigh, she marched forward and nudged his shoulder. When that didn’t stir him, she nudged a little harder.
His forearm hit the desk an instant before his gaze latched onto hers. His eyes were dusky with fatigue, his mouth soft and irresistible.
She had to touch. To claim in some paltry way. She scooped a hand through his hair. The loose blond waves, still damp from his shower, trickled through her fingers.
“You have girl hair,” she murmured, and he let out a choked laugh as he shifted closer. “It’s so fine and silky, not the least bit coarse.”
To her utter shock, he rested his head between her breasts, his breath coming fast as his hands slid up the backs of her thighs. “Why aren’t you yelling at me for leaving you alone in bed when I said I’d stay?”
She bit her lip but the words tumbled out just the same. “Because I know you can’t keep still. It’s not because of me,” she said, hoping to God it was true.
“Do you really believe that?” he asked quietly.
Closing her eyes didn’t block out the feeling of his lips capturing her nipple through his shirt. His teeth scraped gently while his fingers traced the swell of her ass. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was learning her body as dispassionately as a sculptor, examining hollows, exploring curves.
“I had a dream,” she whispered.
Surely she wasn’t going to tell him. Why not throw herself at his feet and wail for him to care about her, for God’s sake?
He didn’t ask. He wouldn’t. But she told him anyway. Because if she didn’t, if she kept pretending she felt nothing, he’d turn her into another version of himself.
“We went out to a restaurant. There were linens on the tables, candles burning. The place was mostly empty, so we had the waitstaff to ourselves. But you sent them away. You only wanted to be with me.” Even as she said the words aloud she knew she was spinning a tale. The Spencer she’d dreamed of didn’t exist. “The food was wonderful. Grilled chicken and shrimp on skewers, roasted vegetables with the most delicious sauce. Not a damn salad in sight. And the music�
�” Now she laughed, the sound as broken as a sob. “All dance beats. No harps or pianos.”
“Did I eat you for dessert?”
She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say. “Oh how romantic”? That wasn’t Spencer. She knew it, and the disappointment still sliced through her like a blade.
“I don’t know.” She forced herself to shrug. “I woke up.”
“Do you want that? Us to go out?Out out, not to Kink. On a date.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “To somewhere other than The Daily Bread?”
His voice had caught, stumbling a bit on the word date. As much as her heart stumbled. “If I said yes?”
“We could run into someone.”
“We didn’t run into anyone at the deli. But yeah, I guess we could. We could also run into them at Kink, since everyone in town seems to hang out there.”
“I never went there that much, for that reason. But now I can’t seem to stay away.” He cupped her hip. “I’ll be damned if you go there without me.”
Possessiveness he had down. But she needed more than that. “I go there because of you. Because of us. These past couple nights were an aberration. I’m a one-man woman, Spencer.”
His throat jerked as he swallowed. “I don’t know how to proceed here. We work together.”
“There’s no rule people can’t fraternize at the store. And if there is, you might want to tell Marcia and Tony, since I half expect to find them doing it on the front counter anytime now.”
He winced. “There’s no rule. But there was a situation. With me. Years ago.”
“Yeah, and you keep dancing around it. You freaked out about my jokes the other night but you won’t tell me what happened so I can—”
“So you can what?”
“Why won’t you just tell me?”
“Because it doesn’t affect us. She’s the past. But yeah, I’m wary. I have every reason to be.”
She tried—and failed—to ignore the rush of jealousy at the faceless woman who’d been with him first. “What if I said I want to know? That I deserve to know why you’re holding back on me?”
He clenched his jaw. “Then I’d say we have a problem.”
Chapter Twelve
Kelly let out a long breath. She could make an issue out of this, demand to know every detail of his past, and that still wouldn’t change his behavior. If she turned into a shrill harpy, all she’d do was drive him farther away.
“Yeah, people may talk,” she said, stroking his hair in a vain attempt to settle them both. “People are probably talking already. Marcia knows I’m hot for you.”
“How does she know that?”
“Other than my tongue falling out of my mouth every time you walk by my register?” She rolled her eyes as he puffed out his chest. “Then there’s my PDA. Who knows how many people have heard about my list? Bottom line, we can worry about everyone else or we can do what’s right for us. I’d like to go out with you,” she said softly. “If you’re not interested, that’s fine. But I’m putting it out there. I don’t only want you for sex, this past week aside.”
“Crush my illusions, why don’t you?” His husky voice rippled over her spine as he gained his feet and slid his body against hers. His slight height advantage tweaked her in all the right places, as did his casual display of strength as he picked her up and set her on his desk.
He smoothed her hair away from her forehead, his gaze hot on hers while he licked her lips open. Going for her tongue would’ve been the easy route. Instead he plucked at her lower lip. Nibbling, teasing. When he sucked it into his mouth, she moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles around his ass as she pressed closer, wanting every inch of his skin flush against hers. His deliciously defined chest was just the beginning. She broke away long enough to rip the T-shirt she wore over her head, eager to be naked in his arms. Again.
Bare, finally bare, she molded their bodies together and attacked his mouth. With feral kisses, they consumed each other. Still eating at her lips, he drove two fingers between her legs, bypassing her clit completely. Normally she wasn’t ready for immediate penetration. But thanks to the nearly permanent state of arousal she’d been in since she’d seen him naked in the steam room, her juice snuck out between his knuckles as he finger-fucked her.
His thumb brushed the distended bundle of nerves, one careless flick. That was all it took. She came hard, her back arching, her thighs squeezing around his wrist in time with the rhythmic contractions of her pussy.
She came down as fast as she’d gone up, only to hear him cursing as he fought to remove his pants. She saw the gleam of moisture dampening the dark red head of his cock, his thick length barely fitting in his fist as he circled her opening. Her cunt clutched at him, her body silently begging as he prodded her entrance.
“Tell me you’re on the Pill,” he said hoarsely.
Even if she hadn’t been, just then she might’ve lied. Anything to get him inside her. The command in his voice, the lust in his entrancing dark eyes—God, she would’ve gleefully followed him into hell if he’d only asked.
“I am,” she said, never more grateful it was true.
He slid his tongue between her parted lips as he plunged. He didn’t bother with slow kisses or leisurely thrusts. This was full-out fucking, their bodies joining and separating with a wildness that sent the desk clattering against the wall. She dug her heels dug into his spine to bring him in deeper while her mouth savaged his. Getting more of him inside her—his tongue, his cock, his very breath—was the goal, and she went after it with single-minded purpose.
He shoved her up and down his dick with a ferocity that fueled her desire. The more he lost control, the further she dared him to go.
Take me. All of me.
Moans filled the room, coasting over the redolent scent of sex. He tore his lips free to unleash his punishing kisses on her needy breasts. She clutched at his hair, his shoulders, his back. Any part she could touch. She cried out when the next orgasm speared through her, blasting along her frayed nerve endings and leaving them smoking. Her hips pumped madly against his, her nails slicing at his arms as he pushed into her again and again.
“Fill me up,” she gasped. And she didn’t mean with his cock, because if she got any fuller she’d need medical attention.
He never responded well to direction and now was no exception. He continued to stroke into her, the sweetest invasion she’d ever known. Only when her pussy started to undulate once more did she feel the subtle expansion in his length and the pulse of pressure that warned he was about to come. A jagged exhale followed by the closest thing to an actual shout she’d heard from him rent the air, and then he was driving deeper, burying himself as far as he could go as she wrapped her arms around him and held on.
She’d heard of women saying a man emptied himself inside her, but she’d never actually felt or seen it. Not like this. When Spencer finally pulled back, his features looked drawn, as if every ounce of his energy had drained right through his balls and out through his cock. She wanted to laugh at the absolutely wasted look on his face, but the desolation in his eyes curbed the urge.
“Let’s play hooky,” she said, framing his cheeks in her hands. She was afraid to let go even for a second. “We’ll stay in bed all day. Spencer, please.”
She knew he’d say no. He always did. Was that why she couldn’t get enough? Because he never gave her anything substantial to hang on to?
“I can’t.” Already he was closing off, his eyes shuttering. “But you can. You need your sleep.”
He pulled out of her and she wanted to yell, wanted to kick something. Wanted to kick him. Why did he make this so damn hard? Why was she fighting so much for something she’d never have?
Kelly jumped off the desk when he reached for his pants. “If you’re going, I’m going,” she said instead of the pleas quivering on her tongue. “I’m grabbing a shower,” she added, hurrying toward the door before he could see her eyes.
She w
asn’t crying. Not even close. But she knew what she felt would be right there, burning for anyone to see. Unlike him, she didn’t know how to keep her feelings locked away. They kept bursting out of her, demanding to be heard. And she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to keep them from ruining everything.
“Kelly. Wait.”
She turned, gripping the doorframe. The rawness of his voice made her ache but she didn’t go to him.
“Take your shower. Then come back to bed.” The tired smile he gave her made her heart rejoice. “We have another hour. Maybe we can both get a little more sleep.”
She wanted to skip the shower and hurtle into his arms. Every little morsel he tossed her way made her so utterly grateful, as if he’d just presented her with a bow-wrapped sports car. A smile, a touch, her name on his lips—she craved it all.
“Okay,” she whispered over the lump in her throat.
This time there was a tear, just one that snuck by her defenses before she shored them up again. She hurried away before he could see it, ashamed she could be so easily broken.
Even so, she knew she’d take the risk of the fall over walking away. Anything was better than that.
* * * * *
Spencer was at his desk by seven a.m. He’d dropped Kelly off at the club to get her car early enough for her to get to the store on time, which left him up freakishly early. But he hadn’t headed to work right away.
First he’d gone to the gym and driven himself through a punishing routine on the machines. Even when his muscles screamed, he hadn’t stopped. If he hadn’t been such a textbook case of a man severely in over his head, he might’ve laughed at his own actions.
Rather than laugh, he worked.
He wandered out to check the floor around ten. Kelly was back in the romance section, organizing and rearranging. The woman was a perfectionist in the extreme. She shot him one of her teasing smiles as he walked through and there wasn’t a force on earth strong enough to keep him from stopping to see her.
“Keeping busy?” he asked, lifting his voice loud enough for anyone who passed by to hear.
