Real Men Will
Page 19
When she pulled up, Eric got out of his truck, and the sight of him left her feeling strange and shivery inside. She’d never been hit with lust like that before. She’d read that women were just as susceptible to visual stimuli as men, but she hadn’t believed it. After all, she’d never asked a guy to dress up in tight red underwear and leather and pose for her. But now she could see it. She could feel it. That the sight of him was enough to turn her on.
He stood aside when she approached, then followed her up the stairs. They didn’t even look at each other, as if that would somehow hide their intentions from anyone watching.
Her apartment was beginning to feel like a cheap motel room, but she didn’t care. She’d waited her whole life to feel this sort of easy lust, and she wasn’t going to bother with shame about it now. She unlocked her door and led him in, and this time she walked straight to the bedroom. Eric followed without a word.
It was all fantastically dirty.
They were here in the middle of the day for only one reason. This wasn’t a date. It was sex. So Beth undid her top button and moved on to the next one. When Eric saw what she was doing, he raised an eyebrow and pulled his polo shirt off.
She couldn’t resist him. She was worse than a teenage boy ogling a naked woman. His chest was perfect. Mouthwatering. She had to reach out and spread her fingers over the muscles. She had to drag her mouth along his collarbone and taste his skin.
How could it be that he affected her more every time she saw him? How could she want him more after each night they spent together? Now it was as if all their chemistry got mixed up with the things they’d already done, and the things she’d fantasized about doing. It all twisted up together until she felt as if she’d explode.
Eric cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth to his, and the taste of his mouth was even better than his skin. When he turned her toward the bed, she went willingly, letting herself fall across the mattress as he covered her with his body. His back was gorgeous hot skin beneath her hands. His spine the perfect concave path to follow all the way to his ass. The rough fabric of his cargo pants stopped her, but she loved the reminder of his preppy clothes, too. The way he looked so upstanding in public and got wild and rough in bed.
When his hand shoved up her skirt, he lifted up a little, and Beth smiled. She knew he’d love what she was wearing. The black garter belt. The stockings. The—
“Christ, you are so hot, Beth. A fantasy.” His hand spread over her bare thigh, and he watched himself touch her. His thumb eased up, just brushing the thin fabric of her panties. He did it again and she gasped.
“I like you like this,” he whispered. “Completely dressed. Totally turned on. Like you have a secret.”
Beth watched his face as he reached for the bows at the sides of her panties and eased them off. He looked angry again, the way he always did in the midst of sex, and that turned her on, too.
This time, when his fingers slid over her, there was no fabric in the way, and Beth arched into him with a small cry.
“You’re so wet for me,” he whispered. His eyes stayed on his hand as he touched her with only the faintest pressure. Then his gaze finally rose to hers. “I read your column.”
Beth shook her head, thoroughly distracted by the torturous brush of his fingertips. “What?”
“Your column. I want you to do that. For me.”
Beth blinked, trying hard to think past what he was doing to her body. The column. “Oh,” she said. “The column!” It had been about… Her gaze shifted to the table next to her bed as he finally stopped teasing her to distraction.
Cairo had written that particular column. Beth had never played with her toys in front of anyone, and the thought was…
“Will you?” he asked.
Would she? She could just tell him the truth. That she wrote only a few of the columns and hers usually leaned toward the scholarly end of the spectrum. That she’d never done this or half the things her coworkers described in their writings. She could tell the truth and let him see the real her.
Or she could just go with it, and do what he’d asked her to do. He looked so stern and demanding as he waited for her answer. And Beth knew exactly what she’d say. “Yes.”
Eric rose up, his gaze traveling down her body from her half-buttoned blouse to her pushed-up skirt. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her exposed sex and pale thighs framed by the stockings. Beth eased her knees a little farther apart.
“Stay right there,” he growled.
Still looking at her, he tugged open the drawer of her bedside table, but when he glanced inside, a little jerk of shock went through his body. He actually stepped back, his eyes widening.
Beth fought the urge to cover her eyes.
“Wow,” Eric said.
“We, um, get a lot of free samples.”
“I guess so. I don’t…” He leaned closer. “Are these all for…?” He frowned down at the drawer. “Maybe you should pick one.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or hide her face, but what the hell. She was a sexual fantasy, wasn’t she? So instead of grabbing the closest toy and slamming the drawer shut, Beth edged her knees just the tiniest bit wider. “But you told me not to move.”
Eric looked from the drawer to her, and his dark frown transformed almost instantly into a wicked smile that made her stomach twist. He didn’t smile like that very often, which was a good thing. That smile was more than charming; it promised things. Filthy things. And sure enough, he reached into the drawer with no trepidation at all.
“You’re right. You should definitely stay just like that.”
Beth breathed a sigh of relief when she saw what he’d chosen. Nothing monstrously big or festooned with pulsing appendages. Just a simple white vibrator with textured ridges along the underside. She could handle that. Even with an audience.
Beth pretended complete confidence when she took it from him, but a few moments without Eric’s touch and her brain had kicked back to working life. What if she got performance anxiety? What if she couldn’t make it happen? It wasn’t like she had a hundred percent success rate.
But she had him to look at this time. And the hard light was back in his eyes as she turned the dial and nervously licked her lips. And as soon as she touched herself with the toy, she knew she needn’t have worried. She was already turned on. For him. Her body already tight with arousal.
Beth put one hand behind her on the mattress to brace herself as she arched her back. She dragged the cool shaft over her hot sex and whimpered as the vibration pushed brutally through her nerves.
“That’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Eric growled.
Instead of closing her eyes and trying to pretend he wasn’t there, Beth watched him through her lashes as she worked the toy against her slick flesh.
His jaw tightened, his eyes on fire, and her body responded, wanting to please him, wanting to do anything for his approval. And when he reached for the buckle of his belt, every nerve in her body tightened. Her nipples drew to hard buds, her clit swelled against the pleasure pulsing through it.
The belt buckle clinked, then there was the delicious sound of sliding leather shivering through her, nearly as effective as the vibrator itself.
Beth wanted to whimper like a needy animal when he pulled down his zipper. Though she managed to clench her teeth against the sound, there was no stopping her moan when he drew his cock free. He was huge. The skin tight over his swollen flesh. The head already slick with need.
The sight pushed her too close to the edge. She had to shift the vibrator lower or she’d come within seconds. And she didn’t want to come yet, because Eric had fisted that gorgeous cock in one hand, but he used the other to guide her off the bed and onto her knees.
“Don’t stop,” he ordered when her hand faltered and she braced herself against his leg.
So she didn’t stop. Instead, she slid the vibrator over her clit one last time, then down. Down, until she could push it deep in
side and fuck herself while Eric wrapped her hair around his fist. She opened her mouth for him, and there was hot approval in his eyes as he rubbed himself against her open lips.
Groaning again, she slid her tongue under him, trying to draw him in. He pushed in a little, but slowly pulled back, leaving her whimpering for more. Instead of giving her more, Eric held her still and stroked himself, only the head of his cock pressed to her tongue.
She loved it. The tightness of his fist in her hair, the fullness of her sex as she pushed the vibrator deeper, the knowledge that he was using her just the way he wanted. This shouldn’t be her fantasy: on her knees in front of him, mouth eager and open. But at that moment, it felt like everything she’d ever wanted.
All those years of need and desire were building to a heavy weight between her thighs. A shaking, pulsing weight that pressed harder and harder against her clit. Every breath she exhaled was a small moan that kept the same rhythm as Eric’s stroking hand. Her thighs shook. Her hips jerked against her own hand.
When she felt Eric’s fist tighten to a brutal hold, Beth sighed and pressed her tongue tighter to him. Grunting, he held her still as he came, and when she pictured what she must look like for him, it was too much. She cried out as the climax took over her body and turned her inside out. It went on and on until she was so sensitive she could only shake and sob.
When Beth came to her senses, she was crouched on her knees, her forehead pressed to the rough fabric that covered Eric’s thigh. Eyes open, she panted and stared at his shoes. Had she really just done that? Had that been her?
The sound of him zipping up his pants rang in her ears, and she had the disconcerting thought that he was about to throw money on the table and leave. Disconcerting, because the idea sent a thrill through her spent body.
But he didn’t, of course. He lifted her up and slid her onto the bed, then waited for her to edge over before he collapsed, one arm slung over his eyes.
“Jesus Christ, Beth.”
She sighed. “I know.”
He lifted his head for a moment before letting it collapse to the pillow again. “And you’re still dressed.”
“Am I? I’m too numb to tell.”
“That was…”
“Crazy,” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
This was getting a little scary. Not because the sex was rough and wild, but because it got more intense every time. That night in the hotel room, that night that had changed her life—it seemed so mild now. Just another round of good sex. But the more time she spent with Eric, the more she needed from him.
“What did you say on the phone?” she asked softly. “Just before we hung up?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Because I thought you said something about not being Eric Donovan.”
His chest rose on a sharp breath. Beth turned onto her side to watch him, but his face was still mostly covered by his arm. His muscles were tight beneath his skin.
“Michael Donovan wasn’t my father,” he finally said. “He adopted me when I was eight. My real dad was never around. He didn’t give a shit.”
She didn’t feel any shock at the words. He didn’t look anything like Jamie. She might have suspected, if she hadn’t been so distracted by their lies. “But if he adopted you, your name is Donovan, right?”
A tight smile flashed over his face. “Yeah. I didn’t lie about that part. But it feels like a lie, sometimes. It always has.”
She laid her head on her arm and wrapped her fingers over his biceps. “He treated you differently?”
“No. Never. But I knew. And I made damn sure to be the son he wanted. Not because he demanded perfection, but because I wanted to give him that. He deserved it.”
Beth didn’t say anything. She understood. She’d wanted to be perfect for her dad, too.
“But then he died, and I had to be more than a perfect son. I had to be a dad and a brother and a business owner. I had to be the disciplinarian, and the breadwinner, and Christ, I had to be Tessa’s mom, too. When she needed to see the doctor or buy a prom dress. I just…”
Beth realized she was pressing her nails into his skin and made her hand relax.
“That night, when I said I didn’t know why I lied, that’s only partly true. I know why I didn’t bother correcting you. Honestly, it hardly felt like it mattered. My real name or not my real name, I don’t know who I am lately. My siblings are grown up. They don’t need me anymore. I’m a Donovan brother who’s not even a Donovan. And that night felt like the first real thing I’d done in years.”
She took a deep breath and blinked back tears at his words, because she knew exactly what he meant. Hadn’t she been faking her way through life for a while now?
When she’d first started working at the White Orchid, she’d loved every single day. The idea of sexual freedom had been a revelation. That there were people in the world who thought sex was good and right and something everyone should enjoy.
She’d left high school so ashamed, so beaten down by what she’d done. And Christopher… He’d recovered within a week, his guilt seemingly wiped clean by awkward apologies to her family and with no price to pay among their peers. He’d been a stud, while Beth had been a slut of the highest order.
Leaving for college had been a relief, but it had been terrifying all the same. Boys, in particular, had terrified her. It had seemed they were predators lying in wait, constantly on the alert for any sign of weakness. Any hint that a girl might be interested in sex or that she might drink too much or just…just like him. As if she had to control their needs as well as her own, because God knew she’d be punished for giving in to either one.
Sex had felt like a trick and men like con artists, and her body…her own body was a Judas of the worst sort.
She shuddered to think what her life would’ve been like if she hadn’t stumbled onto a human sexuality class. It had been disguised as part of her major: anthropology. But it had really been an exploration of different societies’ attitudes toward sex, and how it affected their gender stereotypes.
Beth had been hooked. The next class had been all about women’s sexuality through history. Then another on gender roles and power. Finally, she’d learned enough that she’d asked to see a counselor in the student services center, and just talking about what had happened to her had freed her.
When she’d finally taken a two-week-long internship at the White Orchid, Beth had felt like she’d found a place where she almost belonged. Almost. If she just tried hard enough. She’d been working toward completely belonging for years. She’d dated the men her friends had expected her to date, not the men she really wanted. But now…
Beth eased Eric’s arm down until he finally let it fall. His eyes were wary and tired when they met hers. “I felt the same way that night,” she admitted. “I feel that way now. Like it’s just us here. Like I’m not who everyone expects Beth Cantrell to be.” Ironic, maybe, considering she was sexual with him, but true all the same.
He wasn’t part of her circle of friends. He wasn’t real life. And that was why she liked the secret of this, she realized. Not only would he not tell anybody, but even if he did, they wouldn’t be people she knew. They couldn’t smile to her face and then discuss her when she left the room.
All these years and those last months of high school were still eating at her like acid. How pitiful was that?
“But you’re just who you are,” he said. “Aren’t you?”
Beth rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. “No. Not really. I…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I…”
Seconds ticked by, and Beth could hear her own heart thumping a sad beat in her ears. Eric touched her then, his hand spreading over hers, their fingers sliding together. She held on tight.
She couldn’t trust this man, could she?
She tried one more time. “I…wasn’t always this person. I used to be someone different.”
“Who?” he asked.
“Bastard,” he murmured, and Beth smiled.
“I thought I’d never trust anyone again.”
“And you haven’t.”
“No,” she said, realizing the truth even as she spoke the words. “No, but I’m starting to trust myself.”
She felt him turn toward her, but Beth didn’t look at him. She felt raw and naked in a way she hadn’t felt even when she was on her knees for him.
“Only now?” he asked.
“Only now. But maybe my timing is good.”
He squeezed her hand. “Does that mean you’ll tell me what was stressing you out earlier?”
She shrugged. “The owner of the White Orchid is thinking of selling the store.”
“I’m sorry. That’s some shitty uncertainty. What will you do?”
“I don’t know.” She deliberately misunderstood him, but her answer was still the same. “We’re like a family there. I can’t imagine leaving.”
“Do you think you’d have to?”
“I think I might.” She was beginning to realize that that was the choice she faced. Because if she decided not to buy the White Orchid, then she knew she was telling herself she couldn’t stay there forever. Either the store was her future, or her future lay somewhere else. But where? She couldn’t imagine.
“What would you do?” he asked, his thumb feathering along the edge of her hand.
Beth closed her eyes and lost herself in that feeling. She’d never been offered physical comfort by a man, because she’d never been able to get past the initial stages of awkward intimacy. This was…nice. If only it was midnight instead of 2:00 p.m. She could just lie like this all night, her hand cradled in his, his shoulder pressed to hers.
“I don’t know what I’d do,” she finally admitted. “I like helping people. I like that some people come in lost and embarrassed and I make them feel better. And I like that women want to be happy and fulfilled and we can help them find that.”