by Claire, Ava
When I stepped back, I had to have him. Every part of me cried out for him; wanted to strip off layers of clothes and join our bodies together. But I had more to say. I needed him to understand because even if he was ready to forgive, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t put it all on the line.
“I talked to my mother and she helped me understand something.”
His eyebrow arched in surprise that I’d said ‘mother’ and ‘help’ in the same breath. “She did?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, nodding slowly. “I think I was trying to sabotage us.”
He massaged his neck, trying to understand. “Sabotage?”
“She reminded me of high school-” I chuckled, pausing as I was bombarded by memories. “And let me just say for the record, I thought I was over that awkwardness. In college, I threw myself into student government and clubs because I knew that was the only way I’d get where I needed to go. Failure wasn’t an option. But once upon a time, the very idea of failing was so crippling that I made sure I didn’t. How can you fail if you never really try?” I looked up at him. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me and I think a part of me just thought it was a matter of time before you left.”
“So you’re doing your damnedest to make sure I leave?” he asked. “Trying to force the other shoe to drop?”
“I wasn’t expecting to fall for you.” My cheeks warmed as I tried to explain. “I mean, I knew we had physical chemistry. I would have never signed the contract if there wasn’t sparks-”
“Just sparks?” he said, his deep voice crackling with mischief.
“It was the Fourth of July,” I amended with a smirk. “But the idea that a guy like you, drop dead gorgeous, rich, powerful, crazy successful, would want me? Love me? That was a hard pill to swallow. I think somewhere I believed it was only a matter of time before you decided you could do better. So I guess I made those stupid choices, testing you...” I cringed at that word. I expected his face to harden because you don’t play games with guys like Jacob and they had zero patience for people that did. But he was just listening to me. Rapt. “I don’t want to do it anymore, subconsciously or otherwise. I want to believe that you’re mine and I’m yours. That I deserve you.” I held my breath, waiting for him to respond.
“You know what I find remarkable?”
My uncanny ability to screw up the best thing in my life? “What’s that?”
“From here, I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve someone as amazing as you.” He moved back in, like he couldn’t bear to be apart from me. “I never thought I’d find someone like you. Feisty. Stubborn. So full of love and compassion. I never thought I deserved to find my soul mate. But I found you. And if you want to get rid of me, you’ll have to try harder.”
He was close enough that I saw the desire heating his cool gaze. Close enough that I knew every beautiful inch of him was hardened for me.
“So even if I did this-” I slid my hand inside the front of the cotton pants that hung low on his hips, dark hair making a delicious trail toward his erect cock. I gripped him tight, sliding my tongue over my lip. “You’d still keep me around? Even though it’s a blatant disregard of my training and your rules?”
He slowly rolled his hips, drawing his length in then out of the hole I created with my fist. He was already leaking desire from the tip, coating my palm.
“Get rid of you?” He let out a shuddering sigh. “Absolutely not. If anything, the dominant in me would realize that you need a refresher course.”
My lips trembled as my own desire wet the crotch of my panties, heat firing like pistons all over. “And if I decide I just want a taste-” I lowered myself to my knees, my eyes never leaving his as I brought his swell from behind the fabric. I ran a finger around the head of his him, watching the way his mouth twitched, the way his muscles tightened as he tried to restrain himself. When a moan—low and barely audible—fell from his lips, I broke eye contact and leaned forward, taking the tip in my mouth. Suckling his sticky sweet nectar.
My tongue ran around the mushroom head, over its contours, dancing into the slit then holding, sucking, anticipating the delicious lick of pain when he’d take the control back. Punish me.
God, I must have been a mad woman egging him on, not knowing what discipline was in store. But that was the fun part. The not knowing.
Just as I started taking more of him in, he gripped my hair, stopping me.
“You like being bad, don’t you?” he said huskily. “Making me punish you?”
“Yes sir,” I said breathlessly.
His touch slackened and something softer raced across his face. “It’s been too long since we’ve indulged, Leila. Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Absolutely.” I wanted to submit to him. I wanted to give him control. I wanted to give him all of me.
His eyes smoldered. “Strip. I want you naked then on your knees, hands behind your back.”
****
If I'd blushed standing just inside, with the doors open and the off chance that someone caught a glimpse after our tryst on the dining room table, every bared inch of me was red as I knelt before him now. Before, it could have been explained away. A trick of the light. But there was no mistaking the fact that I was butt naked on the balcony.
"How do you feel?"
"Naked," I quipped. My joke was lost on him, his eyes slivers of cobalt blue. "Exposed."
"I know you, Leila." He crossed his arms. "Exposed is lazy. I want you to tell me how being naked in plain view of the condominiums across the street makes you feel."
I let his request ripple over me as the same word remained on my tongue. I was exposed. The crisp breeze was a reminder of my nakedness, caressing my warm skin. I felt my arousal licking my inner thigh and I was very aware of my untamed, greasy locks spilling past my shoulders. The wind swept brown curls back and forth across the curve of my breasts.
It was the chance that I’d be seen that dominated my thoughts. I pictured someone having a cup of coffee on their balcony, looking over and spotting me. It made me hunch over, trying to make myself smaller. Invisible.
"I don't want them to see me like this," I murmured, my face on fire.
"To see you like what?" he probed.
I nibbled my lip, wincing a little as my knee cut through the woven rug to the concrete below. "To see me naked." Exposed, I thought rebelliously.
"And why is that?"
I glared up at him and his cool gaze drank it up. He really did miss the power play. Taking me out of my comfort zone. Showing me who was really in charge.
"Because I'm sure if they had their druthers, I'd be the last person on Earth they'd want to see naked."
The sparkle of mischief was snuffed out, replaced by disappointment. "I thought we were past this, Lay."
I gasped as my nickname flowed from his lips. It was never my favorite; just some offhand thing my mother called me until it stuck. But he turned a single syllable into something beautiful. Something erotic.
Looking up at him, seeing the way his eyes caressed my nudity, I tried to see what he saw. But I just felt naked.
“You want to know what I think?”
I nodded.
"I think you're the sexiest thing I've ever seen."
I brought my lids down, not wanting him to see my complete and utter disbelief. I didn't doubt that he was attracted to me, that he wanted me, but why was hard to accept or believe.
He came forward, hooking my chin then tipping it up.
"Everything about you is sexy," he said smoothly. "The way your curls bob in the wind before crashing around your delicious curves."
I hitched a breath, the moan trapped in my throat as he brought his hand from my chin, dragging a single finger down my chilled flesh and making a wide circle around my areola. Even though he was several inches away from my nipples, they hardened to rocks.
His hand spread over my abdomen. "You have a lover's body. The kind of body songs were written about. That wars were
waged over."
I held my breath, feeling how close he was to going deeper. To sinking his fingers inside me.
Instead, he rose up to his full height, the hand that should have indulged in my heat gesturing at the wicker chair. "I want you to have a seat-" He waited until I blinked up at him before he finished. “And then I want you to touch yourself."
My eyes bulged, his command drawing me from the haze of lust back into the uncomfortable arms of self-consciousness. "T-Touch...you want me to finger myself? Out here?"
His voice sharpened. "I know it's been awhile, but I can assure you I'm still no fan of repeating myself." When I continued to stare, hesitation gluing me to the rug, he came forward, yanking me to my feet.
He spun me around so my back was against his chest and his erection made itself known. We were in the clutches of summer in the city, the sun pounding down on us and the desire heating me sizzled. When his lips brushed my ear, my inner core pulsed in time with my heart.
"Do you need motivation?"
A spanking? The very thought of it nearly made me come. It really had been too long. I wanted to prolong this, hold onto the conflicting emotions of wanting more and wanting to stop. Of wanting to bend over, ass in the air, and wanting to run for cover.
I found my voice and it was almost unrecognizable. Sultry. Longing. "No sir."
I moved forward, lowering myself onto the cushion of the armchair, bringing my trembling legs up until I felt the ottoman beneath them. I was sitting in a pike position, hands on my thighs, my limbs locked and apprehensive. I made the mistake and looked out, the knots in my stomach multiplying as I saw the countless windows in the building across the street.
All those windows. All of those eyes on me. The rational part of me said they’d need a telescope, binoculars or an unhealthy curiosity to see anything remotely scandalous. Like my thighs spread and my fingers knuckle deep while a fully clothed man looked on. It was...I was...
I squeezed my thighs together and crossed my arms against my breasts. A new word came to mind: Humiliated.
“Jacob, maybe if we went inside-”
“No.” His voice darkened, blotting out any misconceptions of a choice in the matter. “You will do this, Leila because you’re beautiful, sexy, and desirable as hell.” He picked up his mug and brought it to his lips. When he was finished, his expression was strict and impassive. “You will do this because I commanded it and you are mine.”
There was something in his voice that unraveled my nerves, enslaving me to his will. It was more than the fact that he looked at me like I was the most delicious kind of sin; it was the fact that somehow, I started to feel different.
I looked down at my skin, the same skin I thought was getting too pale and starving for sun. It was golden and supple, the light dancing on it, making it shine. I ran my hand through my curls, the softness and bounce like heaven to touch. I leaned back, the slight recline of the chair built for the contours of my body. I was stark naked, wet as hell and I didn’t feel gangly or exposed. I felt like sex. And I wanted to touch myself.
I cut my eyes up to him as I spread my thighs, both hands at my knees. A smile didn’t dare approach his lips, but I saw it in the blue depths as I drew my fingertips down the V of my thighs. I went slow, taking my time because I knew it wouldn’t take much to release me. Not when I was in his aqua embrace. Not when I was listening to my true erotic nature.
I drew a sharp breath when my fingers brushed my moist entrance. I spread myself wide, feeling the caress of air against the cool desire that turned me molten. One hand opened my intimate folds and the other paused at the slit, waiting, watching the smile in his eyes become unbridled lust.
I pushed the finger deep and my heat fluttered around the digit. I forgot about eye-screwing Jacob because I was so wet. So hungry for this. Hungry for more.
I bucked my hips as my shallow thrusts stroked my inner walls, my rhythm building until I tossed my head back and forth from the overwhelming pleasure. I knew he was watching and it made me wild.
When I glanced over at him, I gasped when I saw he’d moved closer. He was close enough that I was eye level with his crotch and saw he was more than enjoying my submission.
Every bit of me was tingling, aching, begging as I continued my assault, not letting up because I knew how close I was. How close he was.
When he tilted my chin up, I flicked my thumb across my nub of erotic nerves and pleasure shouted all over me, building to a screeching frenzy. When his mouth claimed mine, his tongue sliding between my lips, I knew I was through.
I was coming.
His kiss deepened as I kept pumping. I was all senses and longing, the bliss too much and at the same time, nowhere near enough. When my lips went slack, he rounded out his kiss until he was just stroking my lips with his, like he couldn’t get his fill of the way I tasted. Like he wanted every last bit of me, letting nothing go to waste.
He pulled back, his gaze locked on me. “How do you feel?”
I shifted, but not to cover myself. I turned into the sun, closing my eyes as its warmth caressed my naked skin.
“I feel sexy.”
****
I stepped inside the corner coffee shop, getting high off espresso just walking through the door. Even though the decor was the picture of sophistication—dark hardwood floors and modern furniture that was nice to look at—it didn’t inspire comfort. They charged three times as much for a latte because the shop was flanked by swanky apartment buildings and condominiums. One came to this place for coffee with a side of arrogance. Case in point was the poor soul in front of me that dared to ask for extra chocolate in his mocha and the barista who glared at him like he was lost.
The only reason I picked the corner shop instead of flagging a cab and heading down to my favorite haunt was because I just wanted to grab a couple of muffins and a green tea latte and head back to the apartment. All I wanted was to curl up in a chair on the balcony and steal looks at Jacob until I could convince him that I needed more ‘discipline’.
I shivered with longing, biting my lip. Nothing compared to the way he made me feel. It was frightening to come to terms with the fact that I was so close to losing the only man that loved the real me. The me I hid away from everyone. The me he’d seen that day in the lobby, feisty and sexy and curious. I could never show him how much it meant to me that he loved me despite my flaws.
I sniffled, blinking back the emotion. All this lovey doveyness was turning me into a bundle of mushy gushy. When I saw the impatient set of the barista’s jaw, it helped steady me. I still couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I ordered a breve for myself and a green tea latte for Jacob. When she all but snatched my debit card then looked right through me to the next customer I barely noticed, turning, almost whistling until I saw him—and choked on my happiness.
It was hard to believe that once upon a time the sight of him made sparks ripple across my skin. Back then I couldn’t get rid of my grin. I held it until I stepped out of the dark, so tempted to rush back to the ticket booth so I could experience it all over again. But something changed—and the very sight of Cade Wallace made me sick to my stomach.
He was in his best Regular Joe, wearing a charcoal V-neck shirt and jeans, his golden cropped hair beneath a ball cap. His green eyes glued me in place but as soon as his lips spread, I wrenched free, inching slowly backward.
“Cade? What are you-” You don’t care. I turned my back to him without another word. Ignore him. Maybe he’ll just go away.
I moved to the drink pick-up station, willing them to go faster so I could get the hell out of there. It was obvious Cade was determined to butt his way into my life whether I wanted it or not.
Even with my attention on the barista’s every movement, I knew Cade was beside me. He just had that kind of presence; the ability to make the air buzz. And even though I was ridden with goose bumps, on high alert, I didn’t acknowledge him.
Just go away, I begged silently. We don’t have any
thing to say to each other.
“I know I’m probably the last person on Earth you want to see-”
I refused to speak to him out loud, but my thoughts fired off like bullets. Damn right. Especially since I told you I was off of your case and have zero, zilch, nada reason to see you in person. Ever.
“-but I was in the neighborhood.”
In the neighborhood? Everything else became a muted drone, a whisper compared to the realization that he was lying. While Cade was here promoting the movie, he was staying at the Empire—clear on the other side of town. I turned the volume back on, needing to hear that I was wrong because if I was right...
“-and this place makes my favorite cup of coffee in the city.”
There was no way I was going to let that fly by unaddressed. “I thought the hole in the wall we met at for coffee was your favorite cup of coffee in the city.” Since I’d just nixed the whole ignoring thing, I turned my chin in his direction and pulled it upward until I met him dead on. “I’m going to ask you a question that I already know the answer to, so if you lie, I’ll know.” He claimed I made him want to be better, and I was going to find out if it was all just an act.
I was going to find out if my favorite actor was stalking me.
“You weren’t in the neighborhood, were you?”
“You’re asking if I’m lying about being in the area?” He had one hell of a poker face. The sharp lines of his face never wavered. There wasn’t even a twitch. But his question was clearly just stalling.
I didn’t blink. “Not area. Neighborhood.”
“You’re asking if I’m lying about being in the neighborhood?”
“I’m asking you to be honest.” I glanced back at the barista. She was slowly pouring steamed milk into the cups. I’d give him until she slid them across the counter to quit with the games.
Why are you even playing at all, Lay? Cade Wallace has proved time and again that he can’t be trusted farther than you can throw him. But this was a new life, a new Leila. And I could answer that question without guilt. The only reason I hadn’t said the hell with my drinks was because I wanted to be proven wrong. That I hadn’t spent time, money, and heart on a guy that was a complete asshole. I wasn’t holding auditions for my new BFF. I just wanted the bullshit to end.
