Sweet Thing

by Nicola Marsh

  He chuckled, his hands spanning my waist. ‘We’re not eating first?’

  ‘We are,’ I murmured, nipping his earlobe to show him exactly what I’d be feasting on. Him. Every delectable inch.

  He groaned a little and, emboldened, I wondered how much more of him I could devour. While he’d gone down on me several delightful times the other night, I hadn’t ventured near him with my mouth beyond a tentative lick or two, considering how large he was in my hand.

  But tonight was about me taking what I wanted.

  I wanted him.

  I spun him around and pushed him up against the door. Tugged the hem of his T-shirt out of his jeans. Unsnapped them and lowered the zipper. Slid my way down so I knelt at his feet.

  ‘What are you doing?’ His voice was barely above a growl as he laid a hand on my head.

  ‘Having an entree.’ I flashed him my best cheeky smile, hoping to convey confidence when in fact I’d never given head before.

  Bardley had found oral sex distasteful, so we’d never done it. I was glad. Made it all the more special doing it to a guy I really liked.

  ‘Babe, you’re killing me,’ he said, his eyes round and slightly glazed as he watched me take him out of his jocks.

  He was big and hard in my hand as I stroked from the base towards the head. Leaned forward to lick the tip. Awed by his size up close. Feeling completely out of my depth.

  ‘Just so you know, I haven’t done this before.’

  His fingers tightened in my hair and I winced a little. ‘What the—’

  ‘So I may not be very good at it.’

  He swore. ‘Abby, whenever you touch me I combust, so whatever you do to me, sweetheart, is going to be frigging phenomenal.’

  Emboldened by his confidence in me, I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock and sucked slightly. He swore again. Easing my lips over him, I licked. Swirled my tongue around. Savouring the velvet-soft skin covering steel, the faint muskiness of him.

  I couldn’t take him all the way in, he was too big, but as I slid my mouth up and down, sucking as I went, I started to get the hang of it. If the sounds Tanner made were any indication, he was enjoying it too.

  ‘Babe, I need to be inside you. I need...ah fuck.’ His hand fisted tighter in my hair as I picked up tempo, sucking like I couldn’t get enough.

  He came on a low groan that made me feel like a wanton goddess and I’d never felt so sexy.

  I’d never understood the articles I’d read in magazines, where women raved about how much power they had over men in the bedroom. To me, kneeling in front of a guy getting him off with your mouth reeked of subservience. But giving pleasure to Tanner this way made me feel good in a way I hadn’t anticipated: like I was capable of bringing a guy to his knees, like I could do anything.

  When I stood, he stared at me like I’d given him the best gift ever.

  ‘Not bad for a novice, huh?’ I couldn’t keep the smug grin off my face.

  ‘Not bad?’ He reached for me and hauled me against his chest. ‘You are stupendous.’

  I had no idea how long we stood there, my face buried against him, breathing in the addictive scent of him, him squeezing the life out of me, but the longer he held me the harder I found it to delineate between us being a physical fling and something more.

  I didn’t have much experience with men. I didn’t know if this was normal or not. Bardley had never been a cuddler and Makayla said the guys she slept with were the same, though that had more to do with her kicking them out so they couldn’t spend the night than anything else.

  But the way Tanner hugged me now, like he never wanted to let go, made me feel...special.

  A very dangerous feeling to have around this man.

  I knew we were nothing beyond a mutual attraction. Two people thrown together at the right time, willing to slake a thirst.

  But for the moment, wrapped in his arms, I found it difficult not to wish for more.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Tanner

  ‘THIS IS CATEGORICALLY the best pasta I’ve ever tasted.’ I pushed away my empty plate with a contented sigh. ‘You’re an amazing cook.’

  Abby flushed, her cheeks glowing the same pretty pink they did after sex. ‘Bet you say that to all the girls.’

  ‘Only the ones who give me great head before serving up a meal like this.’

  She blushed harder but her eyes glittered with triumph, like I’d paid her the best compliment ever. ‘I’m glad you liked it,’ she said, her tone demure but those damn eyes, big and blue and defiant, alerting me to the fact she wasn’t just talking about the pasta.

  I liked this side of her. Bold and confident. Taunting and teasing. Allowing her inner flirt to come out and play when I had a feeling she’d rarely done that before.

  To think, I’d been the lucky bastard to be on the receiving end of her first blowjob. What kind of a putz had her ex been, a frigging eunuch? How had he not wanted to experience everything with this incredible woman?

  Me, I wanted it all. I’d have it all. Taking her on an erotic journey she’d never forget.

  I’d wanted to go down on her at the door, return the favour. But she’d sauntered off, citing the food was getting cold, and that we’d have plenty of time for that later.

  I’d agreed because it heightened anticipation. And I hadn’t been able to think straight with my mind reeling from the impact of coming in her mouth. I’d been hard throughout dinner and, while I hadn’t lied about this being the best damn pasta I’d ever eaten, I wanted to eat her.

  ‘Have you spoken with Remy today?’

  Just like that, she doused my libido like she’d dumped cold water over me.

  ‘Yeah, the docs are pleased with his progress, but he’s itching to get back here.’

  ‘Probably doesn’t trust us,’ she said, her lips curving in a mischievous smile. ‘Considering what we’ve been up to, I guess he’s right.’

  ‘I’m going to visit him tomorrow.’

  After what had happened in the storeroom, I’d already made up my mind to come clean. I couldn’t lie to Remy. Anyone but him.

  Then again, I’d been doing it to him for most of our lives. Before Mum had died, she’d been a buffer between Dad and me, so I’d only been exposed to his hatred a few times. But after she’d died and Dad’s guilt and anger had coalesced into a hard ball of rage against me, I’d had to lie to Remy on the rare times I saw him at home.

  I remembered those nights vividly, when he’d come home late after putting in extra hours at a bakery and have a mountain of homework to get through too. He’d ask how was my day, was I doing okay at school, then grab a snack and head into his room. He always bought my trite responses that everything was fine. If he’d picked up something was amiss, he probably put it down to me missing Mum.

  He never, ever suspected the awful truth and I kept it that way. Remy was a good guy and I didn’t want him feeling bad, even after the old bastard had curled up his toes and done us all a favour.

  Something in my tone must’ve alerted her to my thoughts, because her smile faded. ‘Are you going to tell him about us?’

  I bit back my first response, ‘there is no us’, because that would irrevocably hurt her. Besides, there was an ‘us’ of sorts, even if labelling our insatiable craving for sex with each other was ‘us’.

  I nodded. ‘He’ll know if he asks me about you, which he will, and takes one look at my face.’ I clasped my fingers in my lap to stop from fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kinda goofy when it comes to you.’

  Her smile softened the lines of concern bracketing her mouth. ‘You know we’re both consenting adults and what we do in our leisure time has nothing to do with him?’

  ‘I know, but I don’t like hiding something this important from him.’

 
Damn, it’d been the wrong thing to say, because she’d interpret me as saying our relationship was important when in fact I’d meant our involvement, being Remy’s brother and protégé, would be important to him. Yeah, that was what I’d meant. Right?

  Thankfully, Abby didn’t call me on it. ‘If you two are that close, how come you haven’t been around much the last year?’

  ‘I travel a lot for work. Acting as a consultant for new clubs around the world takes time.’

  It was a trite answer, a vague answer, and we both knew it.

  ‘If you need to tell him, tell him,’ she said, with a shrug. ‘As long as he doesn’t give you or me grief when it ends.’

  I knew we had an expiration date. I was counting on it. I would never have started anything unless Abby knew it too. So why did the pasta feel like it had wedged in my chest, giving me a bad case of heartburn?

  I pushed back from the table a little, clamping down on the urge to bolt while I still could. ‘None of his business and as you said we’re both consenting adults, so when this ends it won’t be messy.’

  I didn’t buy her bright, fake smile for a second.

  We were kidding ourselves.

  No matter how often we articulated this was just physical and we could walk away clean at the end, the more time we spent together, the bigger the potential for fallout.

  I should walk away now. Get the hell out before the sex morphed into something more.

  But she stood at that moment and held out her hand. ‘Ready for dessert?’

  ‘We talking about those lemon tartlets I spied on the counter or something else?’

  Her lips curved in naughtiness. ‘I thought those tartlets would taste fabulous later.’ She paused for effect as she leaned forward to murmur, ‘In bed.’

  I stood so fast my chair slammed against the wall. So much for making a run for it while I still could. Time to make a last-ditch stand so I could tell my conscience to shut the hell up later.

  ‘When we first met, I had you pegged as some prissy, society princess playing at baking.’

  An eyebrow quirked. ‘And I had you pegged as a selfish, arrogant playboy who didn’t give a crap about anyone but himself. Your point?’

  ‘You may be a princess playing at baking but you’re far from prissy.’ My gaze boldly raked her body. ‘And you’re sensational in the sack.’

  ‘Right back at you,’ she said, with a haughty tilt of her head, playing up to my initial assessment. ‘If you’d care to join me in the sack, maybe we can be sensational together?’

  I hadn’t put up much of a fight. Hell, it had been a token protest at best. But the time for backing out of this thing between us was long past. Whatever happened from here on in, I’d have to take full responsibility.

  Because this was my call.

  I knew it; she knew it.

  She’d been upfront from the start, labelling me as a way to purge her past. But I hadn’t returned the favour.

  Because Abby was far more than just sex for me.

  I was using her. In a way that would alienate her completely if she ever found out.

  ‘Don’t you back out on me now, Bad Boy.’ She sauntered towards me, hooked her finger into my waistband and tugged. ‘Whatever you’re thinking, forget it. We’re not invested in this emotionally, so stop second-guessing or feeling guilty or whatever it is you’re doing, and come show me more of that beautiful body.’

  I blew out a long breath, releasing some of the residual tension making my shoulders ache. ‘I’d never have thought you’d be into tats.’

  ‘They’re incredible,’ she said, tugging my T-shirt over my head and flinging it away. ‘I could spend hours studying them.’

  I didn’t move as her fingertips skated over my skin, exploring, lingering, just as she had that first time in my private room at the club.

  Now, like then, lust blinded me, pounding through my body in time with my heart.

  I didn’t get it. Abby was beautiful, but I’d dated stunning. She was inexperienced, where I’d dated sexpots who knew their way around a guy and then some. She blew hot and cold, whereas I’d been with women who were hot to trot any time of day or night.

  But there was something about her that got under my skin in a way no woman ever had.

  ‘What’s your favourite?’ My skin rippled with awareness as she paused over the four-leaf clover on my right shoulder blade.

  And licked it.

  ‘This one.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because every time I see it, I get lucky.’

  I laughed as she slid her arms around me from behind in an unexpected hug. ‘I like it when you lose the frown.’

  ‘I frown?’

  ‘Quite a bit of the time,’ she said, her breath fanning my back. ‘It makes you look formidable, when you’re really a pussycat.’

  ‘Says who?’

  ‘Me.’ She released me and stepped around me, her eyes glowing with wicked intent. ‘I think it’s time you made me purr.’

  I didn’t have to be asked twice. Catching her by surprise, I scooped her into my arms and she squealed. Looped her arms around my neck. Proceeded to nip at my shoulder. Pleasurable bites that bordered on painful, accentuating the fine line we trod.

  What we did now might feel good, but it had the potential to hurt like a bitch if it went pear-shaped.

  I nudged open the door to her bedroom and strode inside, depositing her on the bed gently. She wanted to purr? I’d make sure of it.

  ‘How did you know this was the bedroom?’

  ‘I stayed here once, sleeping off a bender.’ I undid my jeans, snagged a condom, and stepped out of them, along with my jocks.

  Once again, her lack of curiosity surprised me. I’d half expected her to ask why I’d stayed here and not at Remy’s house, why I’d turned up drunk at the patisserie in the first place. But she didn’t say a word. Instead, she crooked her finger at me, shimmying up the bed to rest against the pillows.

  ‘You are the most beautiful male I’ve ever seen.’ She lay back, hands behind her head, studying me with unabashed appreciation. ‘I could look at you all night.’

  The longer she stared at me with shameless adoration, the better I felt. Like I could slay dragons for her. Like I could be the kind of guy she deserved.

  But that was bullshit and the moment I thought it I knew I had to shatter this illusion. Because that was all it was. Something that appeared to be wonderful but could never be real.

  I wasn’t the guy for her. No matter how much I wished I was for this brief moment in time.

  ‘And I could fuck you all night.’

  If my crassness shocked her, she didn’t show it. She just lay there, a smile playing about her mouth as her inquisitive gaze drifted from my chest, to my belly, to my cock.

  ‘Then what are you waiting for?’

  I started at her feet. Massaging her insteps. Tugging her toes. Drifting up to her ankles. Soft strokes that had her sighing with contentment and wriggling like a cut snake.

  Holding onto her ankles, I tugged her down the bed a little. And spread her legs.

  She wasn’t wearing panties.

  ‘Hot damn.’ I crawled up the bed towards her, flipped the skirt of her dress up, baring her to me.

  Slick folds glistening with how much she wanted me.

  The feeling was entirely mutual.

  ‘I love when you look at me,’ she murmured, squirming a little when I slipped a finger inside her. ‘You make me feel beautiful.’

  ‘That’s because you are, sweetheart.’

  I slipped another finger in as my thumb found her clit, circling slowly as I watched her face. Shifting expressions of rapture and awe that made her eyes glow and her mouth go slack.

  Maintaining eye contact, I lowered my head so I could feast on her. She loved th
is. I’d discovered that first-hand the other night. And giving her pleasure, no matter how fleeting, had become my number one priority.

  I loved the sounds she made as I swept my tongue across her clit, through her folds, repeating the action over and over until she was panting and arching into me.

  ‘Now.’ She tempered her demand with a barely whispered ‘Please.’

  ‘Your wish is my command,’ I said, lapping at her like I could never get enough.

  She came hard, her hips lifting off the bed as she screamed my name.

  ‘Lucky the patisserie cleared out an hour ago, otherwise we’d have customers queuing up outside your door to have what you’re having.’ I slid up the bed to lie next to her and slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders. ‘Maybe you should name the next decadent pastry you create a Screaming Orgasm?’

  She mumbled something unintelligible as I peeled her dress off and flung it away, leaving her completely naked. Completely beautiful.

  ‘What was that? You want another already?’ I lazily circled a nipple before plucking it as it puckered. ‘If you say so—’

  ‘I want you inside me.’ She stilled my hand, her gaze trying to convey a message I had no hope of comprehending.

  It looked a lot like gratitude tinged with something else, something I dared not label in case it scared the crap out of me. More than I already was.

  ‘Done,’ I said, sheathing myself and rolling her onto her side so we were face-to-face. ‘I like a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it.’

  ‘And I like you,’ she murmured, hooking her leg over my hip and sliding closer. ‘Every inch of you.’

  Not breaking eye contact, I slid into her in one smooth thrust and she sighed, the green flecks in her eyes sparking with mutual passion.

  She felt so tight, so right, I knew I’d never forget this. Never forget her.

  I needed to break eye contact, needed to stop her seeing into my soul, but as we rocked together slowly, sensually, I couldn’t look away.

  We didn’t speak. No murmured dirty pleas. No naughty demands. Just the sound of our heavy breathing as we melded together.