Freddy nodded. “When’s the gallery opening?”
“Just before Christmas. December 20th, I think.”
“Alright. I’ll be picking up my commissioned piece tomorrow at the gallery, so we’ll try to make sure you’re not there. It’s easier if we don’t interact with each other in front of the Russos. Sometimes people can pick up on familiarity without us realizing it.”
I nodded. Freddy pushed his chair back. I knew our meeting was almost over, and it would be a whole week before I saw him again.
Suddenly, I knew I didn’t want that. I’d spent the past two months seeing him like this—in snippets of professional conversation—and it felt like an itch that I just couldn’t scratch.
I wanted the real Freddy. I wanted the Freddy that showed up at Jayden’s apartment, wild-eyed and feral.
So, when he stood up and walked to the door, I stopped him. He turned back to me, one eyebrow arched in question.
“You want some stew?”
His head tilted, and I cringed.
Stew? Really?
But then, for the first time in weeks, Freddy’s lips curled into a smile and he nodded. “Sure. I’m starving.”
My heart jumped. His eyes drilled into mine and a fire burned deep in the pit of my stomach. I nodded, gesturing to the table as I walked on trembling legs to the kitchen.
Taking a moment to compose myself, I leaned against the counter and inhaled. He was here, in my apartment. I could sense him in the next room and it made my head spin.
“You okay?”
I jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to see him in the kitchen doorway. His eyes ran over me and my cheeks flushed.
I swallowed. “Yeah.” Heat settled between my legs as he took a step toward me. His gaze never left mine, and I never wanted it to. I wanted him to look at me like this until the end of time. Like I was the only woman who’d ever existed. Like he could tear me open in an instant.
Like he wanted to fuck me.
Every step that brought Freddy closer to me made my heart beat more wildly. He said nothing, but his look spoke a thousand words. I leaned against the kitchen counter and gripped it with both hands as he moved toward me. He placed his hands on either side of me, caging me against the cabinets.
My breath hitched. His t-shirt stretched over his chest and his jeans hung low on his hips. The waistband of his underwear peeked out between them and the sight of it made my cheeks burn. I dragged my eyes up to his, my whole body under his spell.
“Why did you ask me to stay?” Freddy asked, his voice low and deep. He dipped his head down, staring deeply into my eyes.
His smell did something magical to my insides. I melted and burned for him. My thighs squeezed together as my tongue darted out to moisten my lips. Finally, I shrugged. “I have extra stew,” I said with a trembling voice.
“You didn’t want me to stay for stew.” His thigh nestled between mine and my cheeks went hot. He could definitely feel the heat between my legs. His eyelids lowered and a growl rumbled somewhere deep in his chest.
My hands squeezed the countertop so tight that my fingertips went numb. Freddy took my hand and placed it between his legs.
“Feel it. Feel what you do to me every time I see you. Every fucking Tuesday I walk out of here like this.”
His hardness throbbed against his pants and I slid my hand up and down his length. My breath caught in my throat as I felt him. Hard.
For me.
I stroked him slowly as his gaze darkened. He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. I could feel the raw power coiling in his body—his strength and desire simmering just beneath the surface. He throbbed against my hand and I pressed harder.
His leg pushed harder between mine and even that slight movement made me gasp. He dipped his head down and brushed his lips ever so gently against mine, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“I know you want me,” he said quietly. His lips stayed too far away. I wanted them on mine, on me.
“We shouldn’t,” I heard myself say.
“I know,” he growled. His hand slipped to my waist, teasing the edge of my pants. “It’s too complicated. You hate me.” His hand slid down and he unfastened the button of my pants. “There’s too much history, and the future is too uncertain.”
“Exactly,” I sighed, barely able to get the word out. His hand slipped into my panties as heat rushed between my legs. He was telling me, word for word, what I’d been telling myself every time I saw him.
We shouldn’t. I can’t. I won’t.
But my hand kept stroking his cock, and his hand started teasing my bud. My body betrayed me, and I loved every second of it. Pleasure teased the edges of my womb as his hand stroked me, slowly at first. And then faster, harder. I stepped my feet out wider and his finger slipped inside me. His whole body curled toward mine and his breath teased my neck.
Arching my back, I sank down into his touch as the energy between us grew frantic. I grabbed at Freddy’s pants, tearing his shirt upward. I needed his clothes off. All of them. Now.
He growled and moved his fingers deeper inside me. He fucked me harder with his hand, pinning me against the countertop. I moaned, clinging onto Freddy’s muscular body. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. The only reason I was still standing was because Freddy was holding me up.
I squeezed my thighs around his hand and he made that growling noise again. Wild. Animalistic. Possessive.
Before I knew what he was doing, Freddy tore my jeans down to my ankles. I kicked them off, leaning against him to support myself. I didn’t trust my legs.
The stew bubbled on the stove, ignored.
He dropped to his knees in front of me, hooking my leg over his shoulder and burying his head between my thighs.
I gasped. His arm kept my leg pinned in place, spreading me wide as he devoured me. His other hand crawled up to my stomach and kept me still. I grabbed fistfuls of his hair as he moved his tongue from my bud all the way down to my opening.
“You taste so fucking good,” he said, lapping up my honey as he glanced up at me. I couldn’t answer. When his tongue found my opening, my head fell back and I curled my fingers deeper into his hair.
“Grind on my face,” he said, pulling me closer as he drove his tongue in and out of me. He made a guttural noise as his fingers sank into my flesh. I did what he said. I’d have done anything he said in that moment. I rolled my hips on his face as he pulled me closer, driving his tongue deeper inside me.
My whole body trembled, and he brought his lips up to my bud and sank his fingers inside me again.
I screamed. He moaned. I gushed, and he lapped up every drop.
The whole world was spinning around me, and the only thing that was anchoring me in place was Freddy. His hands on my body, his tongue between my legs, his voice, his gaze, his everything. I couldn’t think straight.
It didn’t matter. I was a doll in his hands. He turned me around to lean against the kitchen counter and he spread my legs again. When I felt his hands on my ass cheeks, I panted, gulping down air like it was my last breath.
Then, he spread me wide. When his tongue slid over my ass, I made a noise I’d never made before. I gripped the kitchen counter and leaned my forehead down as my back arched toward him.
“Dirty girl,” he growled, flicking his tongue again.
I moaned. “I’ve never… I’m…” Words just wouldn’t come.
“You’ve never had your ass tongued like this?” He spread me wider and did it again. Heat exploded through my body as my pleasure started to crest. My cheeks felt red. My breasts pressed against the kitchen counter. Everything below the waist was on fire, and he tongued my ass again.
I choked on my own breath. “No.”
“But you’re doing it with me.”
“Yes,” I panted.
“Only with me.” Freddy teased me again, and I felt so dirty. So fucking dirty and so fucking good. I heard what he was saying and I knew what he wanted.
“Only with you,” I gasped between breaths.
Then, he gave me what I’d been waiting for. He sank his fingers inside me and thumbed my clit as his tongue teased my ass, and I came.
I fucking came.
Shaking, screaming, convulsing against him as he did things to me that I hadn’t even known were possible. My walls clamped down around his fingers and I could feel my juices dripping down my legs. He groaned, not stopping until I finally quieted down.
I lay against the counter, panting. I turned my head to look at Freddy and saw his eyes shining. His fingers slipped out of me and he brought them to his lips, tasting my orgasm on them.
He groaned.
I started to peel myself off the counter, but he put his hand on my back. “Don’t move.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I watched him fish a condom out of his pants and unfasten his belt. My breath quickened. He flicked his eyes up at me as he slipped his pants down.
I bit my lip when I saw it. My body was still pulsing, but I could feel the ache of emptiness between my legs as I watched him slide his pants down.
I knew I was tight. I’d just had the orgasm of a lifetime and Freddy’s cock was most definitely not small. Yet as soon as he touched the tip of it against my slit, I knew I wanted it. I wanted him.
He was still holding the condom between his fingers as he slid his cock between my legs, nestling it against my velvety, wet folds.
My head spun. His heat and hardness were speaking to something primal inside me. He slid himself against me and we both moaned.
“Fu…” Freddy sounded like I’d felt a few minutes before. He slid his cock over me again and all I wanted was for him to drive it inside me. This was the sweetest torture, a blinding ache in the pit of my stomach that needed to be filled. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him looking down at us as he slid himself back and forth once more. His eyes were hooded, his cheeks a soft shade of pink, his lips still wet with my honey.
“Put it in,” I said. His gaze flicked up to mine and he made to tear the condom wrapper open. I stopped him with my hand.
I knew about safe sex. I was a grown woman. Responsible.
But I’d felt his bare cock against me, and I needed him inside me. I was on the pill, and in that moment, I didn’t care about anything else.
I. Just. Needed. Him.
And when he drove his cock inside me, I gasped. His fingers tangled into my hair and he pulled my head back before thrusting to the hilt once more. He filled me up so completely it made me see stars. He pierced me over and over again, pulling my hair back and fucking me into oblivion.
I came on his cock as he growled in my ear, wrapping his thick arms around my waist and holding me close to him. I was a rag doll, rocked back and forth with every powerful thrust as my orgasm crashed into me like a freight train.
I think I screamed, I don’t know.
Freddy still had his arms wrapped around me when he grabbed my breasts and came. I felt every single drop of it pumping into me, and I loved every second of it. He grunted once more, thrusting inside me as he held me close, his face buried in my neck with his arms wrapped around my body.
We stayed still for a moment before separating from each other. I turned around in his arms and he kissed me, his stubble scratching my chin as his fingers cupped the nape of my neck.
It felt so good being in his arms—too good. Our naked bottom halves pressed together as we kissed again, our lips swollen and bruised.
I sighed, leaning my forehead against his.
“I should go get cleaned up,” I said with a smile. “You made a mess down there.”
Freddy reached between my legs and I jumped, everything far too sensitive to touch. He grinned. “I like you messy,” he said in a deep, low voice. “I like thinking of my cum dripping down your legs and soaking into your panties.”
His eyes darkened and he brushed his lips over mine. My heart thumped.
I liked it, too. I liked his seed inside me and his arms around me. I liked a lot of things I never thought I’d like. He made me want to be dirty, and messy, and his.
…and that scared me more than anything else ever could.
22
Freddy
How many times had I dreamed of fucking Hailey? I couldn’t even count. Reality was so much better than my imagination.
I’d wanted to take my time—to make it last—but once we got started, it felt like I lost control. She tasted too good to go slow. She felt too good to try to stop. I had to have her again, but I needed a minute to recover. That, right there, was ten years of yearning in one fuck.
I kissed her once more and nodded to the pot on the stove. “Let’s have some of this stew. I’m starving.”
“Yes, sir,” she said with a grin.
“I like the sound of that.” I hooked my arm around her waist and nuzzled my face into her neck. “Call me ‘sir’ again.” She giggled and pulled away.
I never wanted this to end—the easiness between us. The walls we’d built had fallen away, but I knew it was just a matter of time before she brought hers back up.
We put our clothes back on and Hailey spooned some stew into a bowl for me. Instead of eating at the table, we sat on the couch. Hailey tucked her feet underneath me and smiled as she ate.
It was nice. Pleasant. Easy.
I never wanted it to end.
When we finished eating, I brought the bowls back to the kitchen and came back to find Hailey stretched out on the couch. I sat down and she laid her legs across my lap, staring at me curiously.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Just looking at you.”
“Like what you see?” I wiggled my eyebrows.
“You’re the same arrogant prick as when we were teenagers,” she laughed.
I massaged Hailey’s legs, looking first at her and then gazing around her apartment. Hailey had put up a few paintings and found some trinkets to decorate the shelves with. She had a new rug, too. She’d managed to make this cheap, empty-looking apartment into a home.
My heart squeezed. She’d lost her real home—with her parents—because of me. Because she took the fall for me, and I didn’t stick around to defend her.
Because I was gone.
“What?” Hailey asked, and I turned to her with my eyebrows up. She grinned. “You have that look on your face like you’re thinking about something serious.”
“What look?”
“Your eyes get all tight and your jaw goes slack. Your cheeks turn a bit red.”
“You know me that well, huh?”
“Like the back of my hand.” Hailey laughed, and then sadness flashed across her eyes. She took a deep breath. “Why did you leave?”
Those four words were like daggers in my chest. Why did you leave? It was a simple question, but I could tell it had been bothering her for a long time. A decade.
I inhaled. “Short answer? Or long?”
“Long,” she answered without hesitation.
I nodded. I chewed my words, not wanting to say anything wrong. I didn’t want to blame her father, because I was the one who left. He might have made me the offer, but I was the one who signed the contract. I took his money. I packed my bags and left.
Hailey wiggled her toes as a way of speeding up my thought process and I smiled. “Well,” I started. “I left because I was a coward.”
“That sounds like the short answer.”
“Yeah.” Memories that I’d buried very, very deep started coming back to me. That night—my eighteenth birthday—had been the best night of my life until it turned into the worst. “I remember what you were wearing when we went up to the roof of the abandoned building. You had this yellow sundress on, with little blue flowers on it. I remember thinking you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.”
Hailey was silent, looking at me. Her face was unreadable.
I took a deep breath. “I remember th
inking that I was going to marry you. I was so sure of it, when we were up there. You’d swiped that bottle of rum from your parent’s mini bar and I thought you were so cool and so completely out of my league.”
“I was,” she said, wiggling her toes.
I laughed. “Still are.”
“No arguments there.”
Sighing, I stared at the apartment wall and shook my head. “You know I’d never had a drink of alcohol before that? And I haven’t had any since.”
“No? The only alcohol you’ve ever tasted was shitty, warm rum?”
I chuckled, nodding. “Before, I was too scared of getting kicked out of prep school. If I lost my scholarship, I was dead. My family was counting on me. After, alcohol just reminded me of the accident. I’d thought I could handle the booze when we got back in the car. I…”
Hailey nodded. “I know. That’s why I said I was driving instead of you. That’s why I took the fall, Freddy. I knew you had a lot more at stake than I did—or I thought so, at least.”
“The first thing that flashed through my head when I hit that other car was you. I was just worried about you, above all else.”
“So why did you leave?” Hailey’s question needled me again. “If you cared about me so much—thought you were going to marry me—why did you leave when you could have stayed?”
I looked at her and that deep well of sadness opened up inside me again.
That night, Hailey had taken me up to the roof of an abandoned building on the edge of town. We’d looked at the city skyline and drank from a bottle of rum from her parent’s house. We’d made plans to go to college together, to get married, to get a house and a dog and live happily ever after. We’d made love.
And then I got into the driver’s seat of her car, more drunk than I realized, and I crashed into another vehicle. The other driver was a security guard—a single father—on his way to his night shift. He didn’t make it. Hailey was charged with manslaughter.
I squeezed my eyes shut at the memory and took a deep breath. It was hard to get the words out. Your father paid me. He forced me to do it, I wanted to tell her—but that felt like an excuse. It felt like I wasn’t taking responsibility. So, I just shook my head. “I left because I thought it was better for you if I was gone. You were in that mess because of me—every mess you got into was because of me. I was a bad influence. It was better.”
His Word: A CIA Military Romance Page 11
