by Tessa Bailey
“Daniel?” Her voice sounded husky, unfamiliar. “What do you need?”
For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t respond. Then slowly, his hands sank into her hair, gripping the back of her head. “Again,” he said.
She took his one-word command as permission to kiss his chest again, loving the way it rose and fell faster and faster beneath her lips, encouraging her. She used her tongue to bathe his hot skin, then scraped her teeth over the damp flesh she left behind. Daniel’s shuddering groan told her he liked that. His hands guided her lower, toward his belly, but stopped her before she could reach the part of him obscured by the sheet. Her mouth hovered just over his rigid abdomen.
“Lick. I want to see your tongue on my stomach.”
Story was forced to press her thighs together to assuage the fierce throbbing his demand created, but she did as he asked. Her mouth moved over him, nipping and licking his stomach like she couldn’t get enough. And she couldn’t. He tasted like spicy hot male. After one taste, she craved it like a drug. Her tongue began tracing a path down, past his navel, but he stilled her progress and guided her upward instead. She made a sound of complaint.
“What’s wrong, gorgeous? You need a taste?”
“Yes,” she whispered shakily.
Daniel groaned, his hips tilting upward. “No. I can’t allow it yet. I haven’t worked hard enough for the privilege of your lips sliding down my cock.” With renewed determination, his hands urged her head higher until her quick exhales of breath landed on his chest once more. Heat pounding through her in waves, Story leaned close to kiss him again, when an imperfection on his otherwise flawless chest caught her attention. Raised, puckered flesh the size and shape of a quarter just above his right pectoral. A bullet wound?
As Story’s questioning eyes shot to his, Daniel froze beneath her. His expression grew shuttered, guarded. When he spoke, his voice sounded like it could cut glass. “Looks like you got stuck with damaged goods. Disappointed?”
She flinched, knowing he didn’t refer solely to his wound. That he’d been damaged in a different way, too. Had he been shot in the line of duty?
No, she instinctively knew there had to be more to the story. He wouldn’t be reacting this way otherwise. Mere seconds before, he’d lain before her so exposed. How quickly he’d built a wall between them. Too bad she was just as determined to tear it down.
“I’m relieved, actually. Perfect is boring.”
Daniel’s eyes widened, nostrils flaring. His hands flexed at the back of her head. Story finally gave in to her earlier urge and straddled his hips, a shaky sigh escaping her when the damp material of her panties slid over his straining erection. Beneath her, his chest heaved in anticipation, eyes crackling with heat as they devoured the sight of her naked breasts. Having a man like Daniel beneath her daunted and thrilled her at once. A sinfully beautiful male, aroused and ready, just waiting for her to make a move. It filled her with power. Heady, intoxicating power. She leaned down until her lips were a mere inch from his. Her hips swiveled against him once, twice, their groans mingling between them. “Do your worst.”
Before the words fully left her lips, Daniel sprang from his prone position, throwing her down on the mattress and bringing his weight down on top of hers. A string of chaotic thoughts raced through Story’s conscience before her panties were ripped from her body and his mouth opened over hers, tongue licking inside to kiss her greedily.
This is how he hides. The women. The sex. He’s hiding.
Seconds later, she’d been completely robbed of her senses, oblivious to anything but the feel of his hips wedged between her thighs, the only barrier a pair of cotton boxer-briefs he wore.
When Daniel pulled away, Story sucked air into her lungs, trying to regain some semblance of thought, but his mouth descended on her breasts and thwarted her efforts. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, then sucked the peak into his mouth, the vibration of his moan resonating through her. Looking down, she marveled at the ferocity in his expression. Until she saw him shirtless, his sheer size and strength hadn’t fully registered, but atop her smaller, more delicate frame, it occurred to her how much control he had of the situation. She’d put herself completely at his mercy. It thrilled and excited her.
His mouth trailed across her heated skin to her other breast, where he gently bit the underside, then blew against her nipple, watching hungrily as it puckered for his attention. He rewarded her by flicking his tongue against it in short little stabs until she dug her hands into his hair, demanding he cease his torture. Daniel complied by drawing the sensitive bud into his mouth, hands skimming down over her belly to cup her in his palm. She let her thighs fall open in wordless invitation. Anticipating her movement, he’d sunk two fingers inside her before her knees even reached the mattress.
Arching her hips, she moaned. She knew he’d found her wet, could feel the liquid warmth coating her core. Desperate to have Daniel inside her, she rolled her body, pushing her breasts closer to entice him.
He reached onto the nightstand and pulled a foil packet from a paper bag she hadn’t noticed before, and ripped it open with his teeth. “The first time I made you come in this room, I asked you how you wanted to be fucked. Do you remember that?”
His voice had deepened drastically since the last time he spoke, resonating with lust. After he rolled on the condom with one hand, he crooked the fingers of the other, still lodged inside of her, and rotated, finding a spot she hadn’t known existed and stroking it with his middle finger. Story’s hips came off the bed and she cried out, muscles tightening deep within her. A few more seconds of his expert touch and she would orgasm. But he stopped stroking the spot just before she peaked, laughing under his breath.
“We were interrupted before I got my answer. I’d like it now. How would you like me to fuck you?”
“Any way. Every way,” she breathed, her body’s demands leaving little room for thought.
His hand stilled completely and she made a sound of protest. “Be specific. I can make you cry and shake in any position, but I want you to choose.”
“Behind me. I wanted you behind me,” she heard herself say.
With a growl, Daniel flipped her onto her stomach and yanked her hips up into the air, so she rested on all fours facing the headboard. The foreign position increased her feeling of power despite its submissiveness. Imagining Daniel seeing her like this, naked and bent over for him, made a tremor of excitement race across her skin.
She felt his breath against her neck, his massive erection slipping through the dampness between her legs, gliding over her clitoris, teasing it. Starting at the base of her neck and ending just below her ear, his tongue licked her flesh, a hum of approval deep in his throat.
Then he spoke directly against her ear. “Are you ready to scream, gorgeous?”
With a single thrust of his hips, he buried himself deep inside her. She screamed his name, her hoarse cry mingling with Daniel’s shouted expletive. He didn’t stop to savor the moment, however, his hips angling upward and pounding into her in a demanding rhythm, sliding against her exactly where she needed it.
Daniel’s long fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, squeezing, kneading her without a hint of gentleness. “Push your hot ass up against me and take it deeper.” She arched her back to comply, whimpering when she felt herself stretching to accommodate his size. “What’s the matter, Story? Don’t you want me as deep as I can go?”
“Yes!”
“Say it, then, baby. Say ‘Daniel, please fuck me deep.’”
“Daniel…” She trailed off on a moan, wanting to say the words, but hesitating. She’d never spoken like that before. It would be wrong. It would be wonderful.
“Oh no. You wanted to be turned around and fucked like a bad girl. Now you’ll say the bad words that go along with it. Tell me what you want.”
“Fuck me deep,” she cried.
He drove into her with deeply satisfied growl. “Very good. Now you get more.”
His hand reached around to massage her swollen clitoris with perfect accuracy, building the pressure so quickly her mind could barely keep up with her body. Then he did something that made her mind drop out of the race completely. Gently, with the flat of all four fingers, he patted Story between her thighs, right over the bundle of nerves begging for satisfaction. It turned into a pattern. Thrust, pat, thrust, pat until her hips pumped wildly on his erection, racing toward release.
“You wouldn’t have fallen asleep if you knew what I had in store for you. Isn’t that right?”
Her answer ended in a whimper when he abruptly quit the pattern, circling his hips instead and holding the heel of his hand against her firmly, so that each thrust bombarded her from two sides. Her thighs began to shake as the orgasm closed in on her, turning her limbs into liquid. One arm she’d been using to support her body gave way beneath the force of Daniel driving into her.
He yanked her hips back up without pausing in his assault. “Hold on to the headboard if you can’t take it.”
His arrogant demand did nothing to decrease her need; it might have even wrenched it higher. Wrapping her fingers around the wrought iron bars, she pushed back against him, finding the right angle and keeping it, until finally the climax rolled through her, sending her body into concentrated spasms of pleasure.
“Christ, this is all there is. This is everything,” he grated before thrusting one final time into her. His teeth bit into her shoulder with a growl as he came.
It took a moment for her to recover, eventually returning to reality when his arms circled her, pulling her upright and back against his chest. Softly, he kissed her shoulder where his teeth had been moments before and pulled her closer. He exhaled on a shaky breath and reached over to turn off the lamp, then lay them down together side by side.
A multitude of thoughts raced through her mind, but she didn’t give voice to a single one of them. She wouldn’t have the faintest idea how to begin even if she wanted to. Tonight, she’d gone home with someone she thought was an expert player, but she’d woken up next to someone else entirely. Someone she hadn’t been anticipating. The connection she’d felt, the response he’d wrung from her…she hadn’t been prepared for the depth of it.
Comforted by Daniel’s surrounding heat, she’d already started drifting toward sleep when she heard him whisper against her damp neck.
“Belong to me, Story. Even if it’s just for a little while.”
Chapter Eleven
In a flash of panic, Story looked down to ascertain whether or not she’d remembered to dress herself this morning. Jean shorts, check. T-shirt, check. Ignoring the curious look sent her way from the nurse’s station, she turned down the hallway toward Jack’s room.
After walking the entire twelve blocks to Lenox Hill Hospital only to realize she didn’t remember one single detail about it, she counted herself lucky that she hadn’t been struck by a speeding cab or fallen down a manhole. She held a now-cold cup of coffee, of which she’d forgotten to take even one sip.
Scenes from the night before consumed her every thought, beginning with Daniel’s nightmare and ending with his whispered words in the darkness. And in between, a whole lot of “not safe for work” material that made her blush, even as a main participant. His mouth on her breasts, the forcefulness of his words, the panty ripping.
She knew that taking last night and filing it away, only to be thought of late at night, alone in a bubble bath, would be the smartest route to take. Maybe even confide in Hayden about her night with Daniel over a good bottle of wine. She should not, should not, want to do it again tonight and tomorrow and okay, now!
Somehow she’d ended up in bed with the man mothers warn their daughters to stay away from. The kind of man fathers go after with a shotgun, their sobbing daughters trailing behind them in a wedding dress. She should have stayed away, because now that she knew what all the fuss was about, she would never be satisfied with anything less. He’d blindsided her, ruined her, and addicted her in one single evening.
Unfortunately, after drawing her in with seductive touches and blunt promises, he’d revealed a completely different man underneath. One she couldn’t categorize quite so easily. Someone harboring secrets. Pain. But she needed to view her connection to Daniel for what it was. A healthy sexual attraction being indulged in by two consenting adults. She couldn’t mistake sexual attraction, albeit a powerful one, for anything beyond a physical craving.
Pausing in the hallway before she reached Jack’s door, Story pressed her hands to her cheeks, certain that thoughts of Daniel had stained them bright red. It didn’t help matters that every step she took reminded her where he’d been, where he’d touched. The jean shorts and T-shirt she’d apparently chosen to wear today felt too tight against her sensitized skin. Getting hold of her rampant thoughts needed to happen immediately, before she walked into her father’s hospital room and blurted, “I had the most mind-blowing sex of my life—of everyone’s life—with your protégé last night. Three cheers for me! Oh, and how are you feeling?”
So not the best way to greet your heart-attack-victim father.
This morning, she’d rolled over to find Daniel’s half of the bed empty, but full-blown panic mode was quickly averted when she’d looked on the bedside table to find a paper bag containing a box of condoms and a sleeve of peanut butter crackers, turning her insecure panic to laughter. Then, discovering a voice mail from him on her phone, she’d listened to it twice before even getting out of bed, his gravelly voice conjuring a delicious tug in her belly. And okay, maybe she’d listened to it three times instead of two.
Hey baby, I just left your place. I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked too pretty lying there… We have a training exercise all day in Jersey or else I’d still be in bed with you, gorgeous. You know that, right? I wouldn’t disappear like that without a reason. Not with you. I’ll talk to you soon… And the next time you fall asleep on me, you’ll wake up to find me licking those tan lines. That’s a promise, Story.
Despite the shiver of pleasure she got from Daniel’s gruff message, she’d felt a flicker of alarm over his words. He was already planning on a next time. God knows she wanted that, too, but where did it lead? Only days since her breakup, she’d barely gotten her head back on straight. For all she knew, her overwhelming craving for Daniel stemmed from the need for closure after Fisher kicked her to the curb.
God, the more she thought about this, the better a stiff drink sounded. At least her thoughts had made the blush flee her cheeks and she could now enter Jack’s room without worrying about last night showing on her face. She pushed off the wall and rounded the doorway into Jack’s room.
Seeing her enter, he turned off the miniature television suspended over the bed and tossed the remote onto the table. “Story.” He smiled broadly. “You look well today.”
“Uh, thanks!” Don’t vomit. “So do you. Although I’m told you’re still refusing to eat the hospital food. You know, there’s not always going to be a uniformed officer around to do your dirty work, bringing you corned beef sandwiches on the sly.”
“What? Who told you that?” He looked the picture of innocence.
She dropped into a chair and crossed her legs. “One of the nurses.”
“Which one? The cute one with the glasses?”
Story raised her eyebrows in response.
“I can’t believe she sold me out. I thought we had an understanding.”
“She understands you need to change your diet and get healthy or they won’t clear you to return to work.”
“I don’t need them to clear me.” Grumbling, he pushed himself up on the bed. “Hell, most of the time I’m talking into a headset, anyway. Not a lot of strenuous physical activity involved there.”
“Keywords being ‘most of the time.’ I seem to recall three years ago, you got close enough to a perpetrator that you dropped said headset and wrestled him to the ground. Jog any memories?”
Jack look
ed at her in silence for a moment. “Sure, I remember. Ex-Army Ranger suffering from PTSD barricaded himself inside a church in Staten Island. The question is, how do you know about it? I doubt it made the news in San Diego.”
Actually, she’d been following Jack’s career most of her life. In addition to writing a best-selling memoir about life as an NYPD hostage negotiator, which she’d read cover to cover, not a month went by that he wasn’t mentioned somewhere in the news. Oftentimes, it felt as though technology was the glue holding her relationship with her father together. No need to fill him in on that minor detail, however. She forced herself to nod. “I might have checked in on you once or twice. You know, we have this fancy new invention called the Internet. Makes it pretty easy.”
Jack snorted a laugh, looking down at his hands. “I might not have been around while you grew up, but I sure managed to pass on the smart-ass gene.” He turned serious then, somber eyes meeting hers across the room. “I’m sorry. About the way things worked out.”
Uncomfortable with his apology, she stood and paced to the window. She hadn’t intended to have this conversation, but now that it seemed unavoidable, she needed to give voice to the question that had always haunted her.
“Why did you stop coming to visit?”
Having been so young when her parents got divorced, she barely recalled the time they’d lived together in one house, as a family. When she’d grown slightly older, she could remember Jack flying to California once a year, usually around her birthday. He would take her to the beach, buy her something, ask about school. She’d looked forward to it with joyful anticipation. Then one year, he’d stopped coming. Lynette explained countless times how busy Jack was in New York and she’d tried to be happy with his phone calls on Christmas, but she always wondered if she’d caused his absence.
Jack blew out a breath. “Well, Story. I honestly don’t have a good enough answer for you. Not that I haven’t had ample time to prepare one.” He lifted a hand and let it fall. “You were so young. Every time I came and left, it confused you further. Once I missed one year, it just never felt right going back.”
