The consequences could get fucked, and they’d need to get in line, because Violet was coming first.
15
Violet
Holy Shit. I’d always wondered what it felt like to be an NFL player getting tackled by a full-grown man. If I ignored the hard, throbbing bulge of Peter’s excitement pressing between my legs and the fact that I’d landed on a bed—okay, yeah, I still had no idea, but damn.
My head was spinning. Peter was on top of me while my knees were bent over the edge of the bed and my feet were still on the floor. He had propped himself up to look down at me. He was practically scowling at me in that sexy way of his, as if this was all my fault and he resented me for it. I could see an argument for how I’d played more than a small role in getting us here, but I also wasn’t the one who had tackled us onto the bed.
“Do you have a… uh,” I said awkwardly. I might be buying into the spontaneous sex thing. I might even be willing to commit the cardinal sin of sleeping with my boss, even though movies and books had tried their hardest to teach me that was a recipe for disaster. I wasn’t willing to get an STD or end up with another baby belonging to a father who’d rather not be part of his or her life.
Peter leaned over to the nightstand, yanked the drawer open, and held up a condom. “Complimentary,” he said. There was still a gruff edge to his voice. He seemed barely in control, like something inside him was raging to be free, and it was taking almost all of his mental energy to keep it at bay.
I swallowed hard and bit my lip. The idea that a man could want me so badly was hot. It was beyond hot.
Peter leaned down, and I knew he was going to kiss me, but I still wasn’t prepared for how my body reacted to his lips on mine.
Lying beneath him was the strangest feeling. I felt both present in the moment and completely elsewhere, like my perception of time had been short-circuited until every second took minutes, or maybe it was that my brain was on overdrive to such a degree that I was pumping minute's worth of thoughts into every second.
That first kiss with Peter told me I was a great liar. I'd lied to myself in high school when I said kissing Payton Daniels was "like magic". I'd lied to myself when I "knew Dawson was the one" because his kisses "felt like fireworks".
Kissing Peter was like being absorbed into his world. It was like gravity. Like falling and being pulled at the same time toward something unseen, feeling nothing but the rush of wind in my ears and the thrill of moving so fast in my chest. In that first moment, I knew I’d been kidding myself to think I could pretend to be a normal adult just this once—to have sex like it wasn’t some big deal, like it didn’t mean I was planning to marry the guy and make a life with him.
His lips against mine said more than he ever could about how he felt. There was a tenderness there, just like the tenderness he showed when he worried over my ankle or my allergic reaction. He'd gently tug at my lower lip—tease me with feathery kisses that sent chills and butterflies across my skin. But there was intensity too—the same kind of intensity he’d used to push me away so many times, but now it was sucking me in deeper. He’d take my lip between his teeth and pull just hard enough to send a thrill of warning through me before kissing away the sting. His hands were so strong. So strong. But he was only barely controlling their strength as they moved from my neck to my chest, cupping me unapologetically.
His body was rocking against me, slowly at first and then with more vigor. Even the friction of his cock through his pants and mine was doing wonderful things to me, especially when he pushed me farther on the bed and found a new angle.
I suddenly wanted it too bad to wait. I wanted all of him. I didn’t care about the emotional consequences. Tomorrow could be damned, I just wanted today.
I tugged blindly at his clothes. He took the hint and helped me, rapidly undoing buttons and mixing his attention between his own clothes and mine. First, his shirt fell to the ground, revealing that unbelievable body of his that I'd been fantasizing about since last night. God. It was all happening so fast.
I shimmied out of my pants, but they got stuck on my medical boot. Peter got distracted kissing my neck before he got my shirt all the way off, so I bent to try to get his pants free, but his belt was putting up a fight. For a few minutes, we were a confused tangle of half-clothed flesh and kisses. Even rolling around, giggling and kissing Peter as we fumbled with our clothes already felt like it had surpassed any sexual experience I’d had in my life—or maybe that was just going too long without sex clouding my memory.
I was overcome by a desire to impress Peter. I wanted to show him that I could be sexy and adventurous. I also wanted to be dirty with him, which was a bit of a shock to realize. I got him to roll onto his back and worked my way on top of him. I was moving a little awkwardly with my pants and panties still tangled around my medical boot, which felt like it now weighed as much as a small anchor.
I snuck a glance at Peter’s face, which was still contorted in that half-glare of intensity. I swallowed my fears and started kissing my way down his chest, which I’d intended as a seduction tactic, but I wasn’t sure it counted as seduction if I was probably enjoying it as much or more than he was. I’d lost track of how many times I heard men in books say a woman tasted good, and I’d always thought that was hyperbole or a complete thing of fiction. Kissing Peter made me understand. It wasn’t so much a taste as it was the full, sensory experience, just like eating an amazing meal is only partly about the taste. Good food is about texture, expectation, smell, sight, and even sound. Kissing my way down Peter’s sculpted chest and across each of his abs was like a nine-course meal in a five-star restaurant.
His skin had the most subtle, but alluring smell to it. It didn’t smell like flowers or cologne or soap. It was simultaneously beyond description and beyond resistance. It was just him. When I finally finished detouring and taking every scenic route I could as I kissed my slow path down his body, I reached his hips. His boxers were still on, and in a moment of ill-advised excitement, I decided to take them between my teeth to pull them down.
I’d been gradually scooting my body down as I kissed him, which meant the final act of trying to pull his underwear down pulled my weight just too far off the bed. Without my medical boot, I could’ve simply set my foot down on the floor to stop myself from sliding off the bed, but the next thing I knew, I felt the yank of the elastic on his underwear against my teeth and then the painful collision of my injured foot with the ground.
I was bottomless, pantiless, and wearing a bra when I crashed into the ground. I looked up to see Peter reaching for me with a poorly hidden smirk on his face.
“Ow,” I said sadly.
Peter stopped trying to hide his smile. He lifted me back up so I was on my knees between his legs, which dangled over the edge of the bed.
“I give you top marks for the idea, but a failing grade for the execution.”
“Well, maybe I can stay after class and get some hands-on help from the teacher. Or I could also just self-destruct so I never have to remember how embarrassing that moment was.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t. That sounds messy. And, you know, the paperwork would be a headache.”
I gave him a wry smile, even though it was hard to focus on anything except the shape of his hard arousal merely inches from my face. It was pressing against his boxers like a caged beast waiting to burst free. “I’m glad the only reason you don’t want me to explode and die is your fear of paperwork. Because if you were starting to have feelings for me, this could get complicated really fast.”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s a good thing.”
A tense silence passed between us where our eyes met. I think we both knew complicated had come and gone, but it was easier not to think about that.
“So,” he said. “As your teacher, I could offer you a retake of the test. But I don’t know if I’d advise it. Your teeth might not survive another jolt like that.”
The slight ache in my jaw was enough motiva
tion to drop the sexy act, at least for now. I pulled his underwear and watched his cock spring free. It stood up straight in front of me like a towering monument to all things holy, like a proud sculpture representing the cock all men wished they had but knew was out of reach. I wrapped my fingers around the base of it and looked up to see how Peter was reacting. His eyes were narrowed, but he was watching me with a desperate kind of hunger.
I felt the power that gave me. Peter was at my mercy. I’d watched his entire staff flinch in fear at his presence and I’d watched hundreds of women lust after him two weeks ago when he passed through the conference center. I’d seen all of that, and yet here I knelt with my hands on his cock, watching that same man wait with bated breath to see what I would do.
I put my lips against the base of his shaft and kissed him there, never taking my eyes from his. He groaned in response to my touch, sending a shockwave of exhilaration through me. I was already in uncharted territory with this blowjob. My past experience had been exclusively a get in, get the job done, and get out as soon as possible kind of mission. This was the first time I’d gone down on a guy and had to clench my thighs together to suppress my own burning, uncontrollable lust.
I showed him my tongue, dragging a slow, sensual path up his considerable length. I didn’t do it for the theatrics or because I thought he’d think it was hot, either. I did it because I was turned on out of my mind, and the highly evolved parts of my brain were shutting down section by section until my entire body was driven by the most basic, primal drives.
I took the top of his cock into my mouth and gripped him with both hands. I let instinct take over and tried to listen to his body. When he shivered or tensed at the swirling of my tongue, I gave him more. When he clenched his fist in my hair at my increased pace, I went faster. And when he groaned in satisfaction when my muffled moans vibrated through his cock, I stopped trying to hold them back.
It felt like it hadn’t even been two minutes when he pulled me off with a whispered exclamation of fuck. His tone said it all. He wished he’d been able to let me continue, but he didn’t want to come—not yet.
I didn’t have long enough to wonder whether he wanted me to make the next move, because he flipped me over to my back and climbed on top of me. “I feel like I should return the favor, but I know one taste of your pussy would make me come at this point. So it’s going to have to be a raincheck, because I can’t let this end without getting inside you.”
“Okay,” I breathed. I honestly didn’t care. I just wanted him. Whatever part of himself he’d give me, I wanted it, and I didn’t want to wait. I pulled him down for a kiss, then paused. “Wait, is it weird to make you kiss me after I…”
He smirked. “You try to pull my boxers down with your teeth, but you’re too shy to say it? Say it,” there was a bite of command in those last two words that made me shiver with anticipation.
“After I sucked your cock,” I said, cheeks burning.
His grin faded and was replaced by that familiar, hungry scowl. “Good girl. And I don’t give a shit if it’s weird. I just want you.” He cupped my chin and kissed me. Hard.
That settles that, I thought.
I was painfully aware of his cock, which was still slick from my mouth as it laid across the sensitive skin above my pussy. I involuntarily arched my body upward, seeking him.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered into my ear.
God, he was dirty when he was turned on. Then again, I wasn’t exactly feeling like a good girl at the moment, so I wasn’t complaining. “I want you.”
“More,” he growled.
“Inside me.” I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling his heartbeat against my chest as he lay on top of me. He was taunting me to the brink of insanity by being so close without giving me what we both knew we wanted. “I want your cock inside me. I want you inside me.”
“Tame,” he said appraisingly. “But you’re lucky I want this too badly to make you give me more than that.”
He quickly unwrapped the condom and slid it on himself. Then he guided himself to my entrance. I was so embarrassingly wet that he slid in easily. I gasped a little, digging my fingers into his back. I could feel myself stretching to accommodate his size, but not painfully so.
I felt oddly restrained by my ankle, almost like being tied to the bed. It was both constricting and exciting at the same time. All the pent up sexual energy raging to come out made me want to hop on top of him and go wild, but I couldn’t easily change positions or use my feet for leverage. I had to lay where I was and let him do the work, which was thrilling in its own way.
Peter kissed my neck while he rocked into me again and again. “You feel so good,” he whispered.
I had no experience with talking during sex or trying to sound sexy in general, so I took the conservative approach and gave him a little moan in response. I knew if I tried to talk back to him, I’d end up saying something stupid and embarrassing.
I figured a guy like Peter would take ages to come. Even letting my thoughts skim over the past sexual experiences someone as gorgeous as Peter probably had was dizzying. By comparison, I wondered how underwhelming I must be. But it was like he could read my insecurity, because he suddenly grew more tense.
“Fuck. I’m not going to last much longer.”
I quietly smiled, biting my lip. Maybe I’m not so bad, after all.
My smug thoughts were wiped away when his intensity literally took my breath away. I felt my chest grow tight and my body start to heat up. White shards of pleasure spread through me, making my entire body tingle until even my fingertips were warm and fuzzy.
I clung to Peter’s back and wondered how much longer I could take this before I’d burst. My eyes squeezed tightly shut and I couldn’t seem to stop gasping with every powerful thrust.
He groaned into my ear through gritted teeth. His already hard body went rigid as his cock pulsed inside me. My body clenched, and I felt my own orgasm rip through me until I knew I had to be digging my nails painfully into his back, but I couldn’t make myself relax.
When Peter finally rolled off, reality came crashing back down on me. I was naked, wet, and covered in a light sheen of sweat.
I’d just slept with my boss, a man I’d barely known two weeks. Just this morning, I hadn’t even been sure I liked him, and now I felt warm, giddy jolts of excitement when I looked over at his sweaty and satisfied expression. I was losing my mind. No, I'd already lost it. Clearly, I had, because Peter didn't even know about Zoey.
I’d made a futile attempt to tell him the truth before he took me to bed, but I couldn’t lie to myself and say I’d really tried. I felt like such a shitty person, especially when I saw the way he was looking at me. “What?” I asked.
“As much as I’d like to show you all the other things I’ve wanted to do to you, I should get back to the convention before I completely miss my window. Oh, and your rash looks like it cleared up. Want to come with me?”
I laughed. “Believe it or not, I feel wide awake now. Besides, I don’t want Kristen to think we were intimidated into staying away, and I kind of want a chance to at least glare at her one more time.”
Peter smirked. “Careful. Keep talking like that and I might start to get attached to you”
I smiled, even though his comment had quietly unnerved me. “So you’re saying the whole blowjob and sex thing didn’t do the trick?”
Peter looked back to the ceiling. “All I know is that I can’t trust the way I feel right now.”
I started gathering my clothes to get dressed while I tried to unpack that. To add to my confusion, I still didn’t completely trust the idea that I should want Peter to have feelings for me in the first place. Even if he didn’t know I was a mom, I had to consider what kind of father figure he would be if we became serious—assuming any potential relationship survived the big reveal, that was.
I wondered if my thoughts would’ve scared him. To some guys, sex was no big deal. I knew that. I�
�d tried to let what just happened be no big deal to me, either. I’d wanted to be very “adult” about the whole thing. The truth was that I was a mom, and I couldn’t afford to think of any potential man I’d be bringing into my daughter’s life as “no big deal”. So I gave myself a pass for agonizing about every possible outcome.
I paused when I saw the note beneath my shoe. I scanned the words and glared at Peter. "Seriously?"
16
Peter
I'd been scheduled to host a table at the convention from one to seven that night, but it was four by the time I came back with Violet in tow. I could tell she felt as strange as I did, like we were two kids who had snuck to the janitor's closet and had a quickie before study hall.
Even the way she leaned into me as I helped her keep weight off her ankle felt different. She let her head rest against my arm when we had to stop and wait to move through a crowded area, and her fingers had a tendency toward slowly massaging or rubbing where she touched me. There was a surreal quality to what had just happened, and had it not been for the subtle differences in how she felt beside me, I might’ve almost been able to believe it hadn’t happened at all.
“I can’t quite believe we did that,” I said as we rode an escalator up to the second floor, where my table was supposed to be set up.
Violet searched my face. I could see the vulnerability there. “Are you sorry we did?”
“Are you?”
“I asked first.”
I chuckled. “No. I’m not sorry. I’m just—” I sighed. “Part of me thought it would get you out of my system.”
“Wow, Peter. That’s so flattering. Kind of like one of those detox teas? Thought you could just shit me out?”
I laughed and cringed at the same time. “No. I think I was secretly hoping I wouldn’t feel anything.” I lowered my voice a little. It didn’t seem like anyone nearby was listening in, but I didn’t want to invite curious ears, either. “I was hoping I wouldn’t still feel like I do afterwards.”
Her Secret Page 13
