Deep Surrendering (Episode Three)
Page 6
We made it to the elevator before he pushed me up against the wall and hoisted me up. I wrapped my legs around him and held on for dear life.
His mouth attacked mine, as if I’d taken something of his, he wanted it back, and he was going to kiss torture it out of me. I could barely catch my breath in between the assault of his mouth and the way he gripped my ass and ground his hips against me.
His hard-on thrust right where I needed, and I gasped into his mouth. My eyes flew open and found him looking down at me.
“I want to do it face-to-face,” I blurted out. His eyes flew open and he froze as if I’d said something shocking.
He carefully set me down and looked deep into my eyes. The elevator arrived at his floor and the doors opened, but he didn’t move.
“I want to see you when you’re inside me. You can keep your clothes on if you want. How about that? Compromise?” That was reasonable, right?
He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. I waited for the verdict.
“I can try. No promises. I can try.”
“I have faith in you. And you don’t have to tell me a secret if you don’t want to. Since you’re already compromising.” I reached up and stroked the side of his face, enjoying the slightly prickly feel. His facial hair grew fast.
“No, a deal is a deal. But you get to choose. Secret now or secret later?” That was an easy choice to make.
“Secret later,” I said, holding on to his shirt and dragging him out of the elevator with me.
For the first time in our short sexual history, I was the one to take the lead. Fin was reluctant and almost shy. As if it was his first time.
“I won’t bite. You’re acting like I’m going to hurt you,” I said as he closed and locked the door.
“This is … this is not easy for me. To change something like this.” He fiddled with his keys and wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“I’m not asking you to marry me, or make babies, or even see a chick flick with me. All I want is to see you above me. We’ll be doing everything we already do. Just face-to-face.” He couldn’t say no when I put it that way.
“You’re right. I know you’re right.” He tossed the keys into a little dish by the door. “But that’s the thing. My fears and worries and anxieties don’t make rational sense. When it comes to sex, I’m not rational.”
He took a step toward me. “I’m sure that most people aren’t, when you come down to it. You’re not the only one with sexual peculiarities. I think everyone has them.”
He let out a soft laugh. “Not you.”
“How do you know that? You never asked me,” I said, crossing my arms. “And I told you that I needed a little kinky fuckery in my life. I wasn’t lying. I’ve experienced more with you, sexually, than I ever have before. I love being with you, but sex is like ice cream. I can love one flavor, but that’s not going to stop me from trying others.” Talking about ice cream made me remember him going down on me with the ice cubes. God, that had been intense.
“I want to try face-to-face flavor. If you don’t like it, you can tell me. Or pick a safeword. I have one, so you should have one too.”
My safeword was lilac. So far, I hadn’t had to use it.
“You want me to pick a safeword?”
“Why not?” It wasn’t a terrible idea.
“Okay, now I have to pick one,” he said, walking slowly toward the bedroom.
“Hurry up,” I said, playing with the hem of my shirt.
“You’re distracting me.” He backed further toward the bedroom door. “You make it hard to think.”
“Time’s ticking,” I said, raising my shirt a little higher. My skin was charged with the anticipation of what was going to happen.
“Red,” he said, his voice decisive.
“Red, as in stop?” Simple, to the point.
“Yes.” His stance shifted again from somewhat nervous and playful to commanding. It was hard keeping up with him, but I would. I walked until I was close enough to count his eyelashes.
“Okay then,” I said.
“Okay then.” He opened the door and I followed him in.
And now a bonus scene from Fin’s POV…
She was always sexy, but the outfit she’d donned for the club was one of the sexiest I’d seen her in. Instead of the cheap glittery shirts that made girls look like walking disco balls, her top was silky and liquid.
Like moonlight on a rippling pond. It coated her body and clung to her curves. The skirt hugged her hips, and it would be so easy to slip my hand under it in the chaos of the club. No one would know but her.
This woman would be the death of me. It already felt that way. When I saw her, my heart contracted, and I found it hard to breathe.
Putting into words the way I felt about her was almost impossible, but I knew it wasn’t love. Couldn’t be love. It was too soon, she was too sweet, I was too bad for her.
We didn’t live in the same worlds. I couldn’t…
But then she looked at me and smiled and it seemed possible. She asked for my secrets, and I was giving them to her, one by one. Drop by drop, I would drain myself and give everything to her. What would I be left with? I didn’t know.
I couldn’t stay with her. I would leave and then what? Away from her influence, would my feelings change? Would I go back to the clubs? Would she be enough?
We hadn’t talked about what would happen when I left. She was thinking about it. I was thinking about it, but neither of us wanted to taint the moments we had with worries of the future.
The days and hours and minutes with her were slipping through my fingers, and there was nothing I could do about it, short of quitting my job, but my father and grandfather would never allow that to happen. I’d mentioned maybe changing my lifestyle or doing something else before I’d come back to Boston. It hadn’t gone over well, and I would have to do a lot of work to get back in their good graces. That might also include taking Rory out again, not that I would mind. She was a lovely girl, and I had fun with her. She was easy to be around, but she wasn’t Marisol.
When I left, I would leave part of me with her. I didn’t know if I would ever get that part back, or how I would function without it.
I didn’t want her to come to the airport with me. I didn’t want a scene where she stood at the entrance to security and waved to me as I took my shoes off and went through the metal detector. If she came with me, I probably wouldn’t leave, consequences be damned. I’d throw away everything for this girl I’d known less than a month.
I couldn’t let that happen.
And coming June 19
Deep Surrendering
Episode 3
Once again, I’m gonna keep it short and sweet. Thanks go to family, friends, author friends (especially the people of WDDR), bloggers, my editor, my beta reader, my formatter, my publicist and YOU for sticking with this series. Things are about to get a WHOLE lot more interesting.
The Noctalis Chronicles
Nocturnal (Book One)
Nightmare (Book Two)
Neither (Book Three)
Neverend (Book Four)
The Whisper Trilogy
Whisper (Book One)
Fall and Rise
Deeper We Fall (Book One)
Faster We Burn (Book Two)
My Favorite Mistake
My Sweetest Escape
(Available from Harlequin)
Surrendering
Sweet Surrendering
Surrendering to Us
Dark Surrendering
For Real
UnWritten
Chelsea M. Cameron is a YA/NA New York Times/USA Today Best Selling author from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car and tweeting. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly aba
ndoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.
Find Chelsea online:
chelseamcameron.com
Twitter: @chel_c_cam
Facebook: Chelsea M. Cameron (Official Author Page)