"Do you want me to undress you?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer. "Just so you know, that would be my preferred." I smiled, huffing out a snort of amusement despite myself. "But I gotta be honest too. If I undress you, there'll be kissing and fondling and licking and maybe biting, and well, the bath might get a little cold."
The smile widened as I began to slip out of my t-shirt and undo my jeans.
He growled, but just crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall, eyes half-lidded.
I hadn't actually thought about how easy it was to be with this man. How comfortable and natural. How undressing in front of him, while he hungrily watched and made no bones about wanting to touch and taste, was a simple thing to do. No embarrassment. No hesitation. Just a swelling of tingles inside my stomach, butterflies on the wing, electricity arcing out between us.
But he made no move to breach the gap, he just leaned back, breathed deeply, and enjoyed the show.
I slipped into the bath and let the warm water envelope me, the strawberry smelling bubbles floated around my breasts, kissing my skin, clinging where Ryan's eyes clung to.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," he murmured, moving to kneel beside the bath.
"Aren't you getting in?" Amazing how he could get me to live outside of myself, just by being him, just by being near, just by letting me be me. He didn't demand I snap out of it. He didn't tell me not to worry. He didn't try to make me do something I couldn't stomach right now. He never judged. He just watched and waited, waiting for me to come back to him where it was safe and he was my courage, my rudder, guiding me straight through the storm.
"In case you didn't realise this yet," he purred, picking up a sponge and coating it in liquid soap. "I like watching."
"Oh," I said, sinking down into the water, feeling light again, my body floating, my heart lifting off along side it. "I had noticed."
"Mmmm," he murmured. "But, maybe, just a little touch."
His hand snaked out and a hot palm wrapped around my breast, thumb and forefinger rubbing my nipple. One simple touch and I was on fire. All other thoughts but Ryan's hands fled from my mind.
"Look at that," he husked. "Begging for my teeth."
"You'll get wet," I pointed out.
"Ah, but are you?"
My thighs pressed together.
"Need a little incentive?" His head dipped over the edge of the bath and his lips latched onto my nipple, followed swiftly by his teeth. I arched my back, rising out of the water so he could breath. Bath foam hung off his nose, coated his beard, and all I could do was moan.
His hand slipped between my thighs and he said, voice rough, against my breast, "Tell me to stop, Tiger."
Tiger. Whether he knew it or not, 'Tiger' was my call to arms. The nickname made me feel brave, capable, in charge of my world and able to do whatever I pleased. And what pleased me was his fingers finding my folds and sweeping up and back down.
"I can't tell if you're wet or not," he groaned.
I spread my legs, giving him more access. His finger dipped inside.
"Ah, there it is. Wet. Fuck." One hard, thick digit thrust deep inside. "That could be my cock."
Another pump. I moaned, my eyes closed, my head rolled back on the edge of the bath. A second finger got added to the first. He slowly pressed them in, and then dragged them back out. I whimpered.
"You want my fingers to fuck you slow or fast?" he asked, his breath tickling the skin around my areola.
"Fast," I breathed, my hands coming up onto the edge of the bath to hold me steady.
His fingers pumped harder, picked up pace, started to thrust into me in a way I could imagine his cock thrusting into me. His teeth and tongue nibbled and licked one breast, while his free hand squeezed and pinched the other. It was almost too much. Too many points of stimulation. I'd started panting, writhing, the water slopping about inside the tub.
The moment stretched, the world outside the bathroom, - hell, outside this bath - forgotten, just his hands, his teeth, his tongue and the image of his cock. Impaling me, pumping me, stretching me. I realised he was scissoring his fingers, his thumb rubbing against my clit on each thrust forward. I felt full, even though I knew if his shaft was inside me this would not compare. But right now, right in this second, as he fucked me with his fingers and loved me with his mouth, it was pure bliss.
"Ryan," I moaned.
"That's it, babe. Show me how beautiful you are."
Oh God. Oh God. I may have said that out loud because Ryan groaned, his fingers pressed harder, stretched me wider, his thumb doing exactly what needed to be done to bring me home.
The water splashed over the sides of the tub, soaking him where he knelt. My head rolled over the unforgiving porcelain of the bath's rim, my body ached, my core clenched, my breaths rasped and heart pounded.
And then he bit me. Hard. Right on the side of my breast. It sent me flying and Ryan deftly caught me, his fingers bringing me back down, his thumb lengthening the exquisite moment, his lips murmuring soft and sexy encouragements against my bruised skin.
When I came back to reality he'd removed his hands and was kneeling back staring at the mark he'd left. I glanced down and winced. He frowned.
"Sorry. You seemed to need a little something to tip you over that edge." He looked contrite, if not a little mesmerised by his teeth marks on my pale skin.
I brushed a finger over the spot, a small smile lifting up the edges of my lips.
"Rough, huh?" I asked. He actually blushed.
"Maybe just a little." He held his thumb and forefinger up about a centimetre apart. "That fucking turned me on," he said, indicating his bite mark with a nod of his head.
"Stand up," I softly ordered, and watched him give me a smirk and rise up on his knees so I could see the bulge in his jeans. It must have been painful, all of that beautiful hardness contained in such a small place.
I pulled myself to the edge of the bath and with dripping wet fingers slowly undid his button, then lowered his zip. His chest rose and fell too quickly, his eyes devoured mine when I looked up. This man turned me on with a heated gaze. Set me free with his kisses and touch. Grounded me with his presence. Made me forget everything else but him, and now, and us.
I'd never thought I could have this again. Not just because finding someone who 'gets you' and falling in love is so damn hard. But because I'm a single mother with a five year old daughter and a haunted past.
But Ryan Pierce had made it all so very easy. He found me. We fell in love. He loves my daughter and wants to be her father. Easy.
My hand slipped into the opened flap of his jeans and in seconds soaked his trunks, the bulge of his erection jerked, and with careful hands I lowered his jeans and underwear down his hips, releasing his proud cock.
"Fuck," he whispered, looking down at my wet, naked form, right before his arousal.
He liked to talk dirty to me, so I licked my lips, watched as his eyes burned with fire, and said, "I'm going to suck you hard and fast." He swallowed. "How deep do you want me to go?"
He panted a bit before he got the words out.
"All the way." It was almost a plea.
"You wanna fuck my mouth fast and deep?" I added with a wicked grin, knowing that was exactly how Ryan liked it.
"Fuck, yes," he breathed above me, his hand coming up and cupping my cheek, tilting my head, the other already fisting in my hair.
"Me too," I said on a breath of expelled air as he guided his tip to my lips. I tasted pre-come. I tasted him. The broad ridge at the top slipped over my lips, the flesh like silken steel as he smoothed over my tongue.
Then with one guttural grunt, centred in the middle of his chest, he pushed forward, testing to see how far I'd take him on that first pump. I swallowed as he went deep, he swore again, his hands shaking. Then when he was certain I was ready for him, he started a rhythm, established a sensual glide in and soft, slow withdraw. His breaths came in short huffs, his lips parted on little m
oans mixed with sexy grunts, and his hips rocked hypnotically before me, as his cock fucked my mouth.
It was sublime. I was lost in his little noises, in the shaking of his limbs, in the rapid beat of his pulse in his wrist, in the hunger and love that shone in his eyes. The taste of him. The feel of him. The sight and sound of him. It was pure bliss. I couldn't get enough.
And although he went fast and deep, he constantly watched me with an intensity that bordered on manic. Every reaction I had, he catalogued. Every response I gave, he altered to accommodate my wants or likes. He never pushed too far, he paced himself to match my hunger, my need, my desire. All the while he lost himself in my mouth.
I felt him swell, I felt him falter. His breaths stuttered, the grunts became urgent, and just as his grip in my hair tightened and the look he gave me turned up the heat in the room by about five hundred degrees, his fucking cellphone went off.
He swore blue murder, started to pull back, and even though I knew who was on the other end of that call, and even though I knew what it would be about, I gripped his hips, pulled him back into me and scraped his length with my teeth, offering a small nip at the top on the way back out.
Fucking hell. He detonated. His cry of surprise segued into a raunchy grunt as he collapsed jerkily forward, somehow managing to slip from my lips instead of going deeper in my mouth. His hand was on the base of his cock already, so he stroked - once, twice - and in a mesmerizing erotic display came all over the side of the bath, and over me.
"Fuck," he breathed out above me, his finger dipping into his release on my upper chest. "Sorry," he muttered, I just raised my brow. "Not sorry?" he said on a laugh, reaching for his still ringing cellphone.
I held his eyes as he swiped the call open, one hand wrapped around his cock still, the other coated in his release from my chest and on the phone. He licked his lips, cleared his throat and said, "Pierce."
I held my breath, absently ran my hand over my chest, Ryan's eyes tracking the move with a decidedly masculine satisfied air, and then they came back up to mine.
"Well, that just turned a fucking fantastic day into a fucking stellar one," he declared, eyes still locked on mine.
"What?" I mouthed, but my lips barely moved. He leaned down, phone still to his ear and kissed me deeply. I was sure Dominic would have heard the sounds.
When he pulled back he was beaming. "I'll tell her. Thanks, Dom," he said, closing the call with another thumb swipe. He threw the phone onto the chair in the corner and then leaned over the bath, his jeans halfway down his legs, his semi-hard cock jutting out proudly between us, glistening with his release, matching my chest.
"You're free," he announced, kicking off his shoes, yanking off his socks, following that with a quick removal of his t-shirt, jeans and trunks. Then he stepped into the water between my legs, sank beneath the waves and wrapped his arms around my waist.
Chest to chest, face to face, he said, "Did you hear me? They've cleared you of any culpability, thanked you for your assistance, and they're sure the ledger alone will be enough."
"Enough?"
His hand came up and brushed my hair aside gently, then wrapped around the side of my neck with care.
"Enough to send Roan McLaren away for a very long time, and from the sounds of it, most of the upper echelon of New Zealand's criminal society. They're calling this the biggest coup for the legal system in NZ in one-hundred-and-fifty years. All because of you."
"Wow."
"Wow," he repeated. "You happy?"
I nodded.
"You OK?"
I smiled. Another nod.
"You realised you want it yet?"
For a second I just stared at him, then his lips tipped up in that wicked smirk.
"A man's gotta take his chances when he sees them," he whispered, hot breath against my lips. "I might have caught you at a weak, euphoric moment," he added.
"Then if that's your plan, you should have asked me when your fingers were still inside my pussy."
"Ah," he continued to whisper, shifting his hips to slide between my thighs. His returning erection made itself known. "Then I better get back to work."
I laughed beneath him as his lips began to slide across my shoulder towards my neck. My fingers threaded in his hair, my head tipped back, a smile on my face. And for once, since this all started, I felt completely and utterly at ease. No counting. No need to frantically clean. Nothing but free.
And then Ryan said, "So, the fact that you're giving helpful tips must mean you want me to succeed."
I snapped my head back down to look at him, delighted and mischievous brown stared back at me.
"Get a yes to my question," he clarified, but I didn't need it. I knew exactly what he was on about.
And a part of me wished him luck, as the other part of me said, "In your dreams."
He chuckled, his face nestling into my throat, his teeth starting to tease.
Chapter 29
A Hollowness Started To Expand Inside Me
I checked on Daisy, while Ryan did a circuit of the house. Knowing he took our safety so seriously gave me such an unusual thrill. You're not meant to get elated about something as mundane as checking locks and making sure sensor flood-lights work. But I did. A small smile playing on my lips as I heard the rattle of a locked door or the clunk of a window latch. Ryan made me feel safe.
There is something immeasurably wonderful about that.
By the time he made it back to the bedroom, I'd turned the lights down low and slipped between the sheets on the bed, leaning back against a pile of pillows. I was wearing a loose, worn Whitcomb & Associates Ltd t-shirt, one I'd had to don at the annual Round The Bays Run where my firm had a stand. There was absolutely nothing sexy about it at all. But Ryan stopped, just inside the door, and stared at me. A look of wonder and sheer delight on his handsome face.
I smiled back, held his gaze, then swallowed thickly as he stalked across the room towards his side of the bed. He was dressed in just his jeans, nothing else. And I think the look on my face said a hell of a lot more than his had.
"You're so perfect," he whispered, undoing the top button, then the zip on his jeans and slipping them off. New trunks in fire engine red greeted my eyes, making my lips twitch in amusement. "You like the red?" he asked, as he slid in beside me under the sheets.
"Love the red."
"Thought you might. Chose 'em just for you."
I laughed, rolling onto my side to face him. He was already on his side, waiting for my eyes to reach his. In his hand was his cellphone. The laughter died quietly on my lips.
"Who are you going to call?"
"Harvey and Nick."
"Can't it wait until tomorrow morning?" For some reason I didn't want anyone bursting the bubble that existed in this house. It was bad enough that Dominic had been in touch, but anyone else seemed an invasion, not just an imposition.
"Nick will need to organise his staff to accommodate us," Ryan pointed out levelly. "And Harvey is my partner. I need to check in and I trust him."
Of course. He was still a cop. Still under the employ of the New Zealand Police Force, assigned to protect a potential witness in a large scale case. If that wasn't a bucket of cold water over the head, I don't know what would be.
I nodded, but conversation was beyond me now. Every single step forward into the sunshine, seemed to come with a huge shadow of dread.
He sighed, turned onto his back, readjusting the pillows behind him and swiped his phone, placing the device to his ear. It didn't take long for the call to be answered.
"Nick. Pierce. Got anything for me?"
I sank down further under the covers, staring at the light from the beside lamp reflected on the ceiling.
"You still don't know where the leak occurred? Yeah. Yeah. I get it. But it leaves a hell of a wild-card out there, doesn't it?"
I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing evenly. There was no point getting all worked up over something I had no hope of
controlling. Tell that to my heartbeat though, which was currently sitting at ninety-seven beats per minute.
"OK," Ryan said, running a hand over his beard in a clear show of frustration. "Well, we're coming in tomorrow. Yeah, it's all sorted, Dom worked a miracle. Probably about eight in the morning. Good, that'll be good. Who will you use?"
I rolled onto my side and curled up in a ball. By eight o'clock tomorrow morning the bubble will have been burst. Nick will send an escort, a security detail to shadow us in. I was hoping it would be Ben and Abi. And then I would be facing the Crown Prosecutor with a hand-grenade shaped like a ledger in my palm.
Facing my past. Hopefully for the last time.
I closed my eyes tightly, blocked out the rest of Ryan's one sided conversation with Nick, and tried to still the panic that welled inside my mind. Legally we were safe. Here, in this house, hidden from the world with Ryan, we were still safe.
But I could not get the thought out of my head, that out there, in the real world, danger definitely lurked. McLaren's tattooed goon. That ex-cop who had turned up at the Birdcage. Coincidence or not?
I'm a pretty practical person. I knew there was nothing of chance to it, at all.
"Babe," Ryan whispered, his hand running down my arm and side. My back to his chest, his face resting on my shoulder, hot air coasting over my cheek. "Nick's all set."
I nodded, kept my eyes closed, my back rigid. Kept counting my heartbeat as it pounded through my head.
"OK," he whispered. "I'll just let Harvey know."
I expected him to move away, but he didn't. He wrapped his big frame around my body, his thighs bracketing the back of mine, his groin nestled into my butt, one hand encasing my nape, the other holding the phone to his ear, right by mine. I could hear the dial tone, as it sounded out through the speaker on his phone. I could hear him inhale a deep breath, his nose buried in the strands of my hair.
"Harvey, my man," he said, softly. As though not wanting to disturb me, but he would have known I was still awake. He was just getting himself settled. Despite the phone call, his body was relaxing, his mind quietening, his voice matching the tone.
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