by Quinn, Cari
Mia was…Mia.
She struggled to get the temperature right, and I leaned over to help her. That put me in direct proximity with the side of her breast, which I paid no mind to. All right, little mind. Indestructo erection was still knocking on heaven’s door in my pants. Her ass jiggling as she squirted bubble bath into the water didn’t help.
She capped the bottle after using the recommended amount of suds and handed it back, but I wasn’t about to let her skimp. I hoisted the bottle high and squeezed.
When she was with me, I’d give her everything I had. My jacket, orgasms, extra bubbles.
“I think you’re using too much.”
“Says who?” I tossed the empty bottle over my shoulder and motioned for her to get into the warm, frothy water. It was starting to get a little sudsy, but that was good, right?
“I hope you have a nice super,” she muttered.
I wouldn’t call him nice, but I wasn’t real afraid I’d get kicked out for bathroom mishaps. Being related to the owner of the building was a handy perk.
Mia sank into the bubbles and moaned, so loud I had to press my wrist against my zipper. Luckily, she didn’t notice. She dropped down into the thickening suds until they covered her chin, then let her head fall back until her hair slipped into the water. Her lids lowered, her dark lashes fanning over her cheeks.
She didn’t say anything, just floated while bubbles accumulated at an alarming rate and the jets stirred them up. Her cheeks flushed and she actually smiled, her lips curving like a rainbow hesitantly arching across the sky after a rainstorm.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. “Aren’t you going to join me?”
No. I wasn’t. I wanted to, God knew, but she needed all the room in the tub. And I needed to be outside it, with enough distance that I couldn’t feel every inch of her skin against mine. I would never smell grape again without thinking of her like this and knowing I’d been the one to give her that small pleasure.
Now I would give her more.
“Think I can wash you better like this.” I knelt at her side and dragged my hand through the water. My eyes widened. “Shit, that’s hot.”
“I know.” Her dreamy smile spread. “I like it that way.”
Her smile faltered as I picked up the soap and rubbed it between my hands. “You’ll like this too.” I hoped.
She scrambled upward, her heels sliding on the bottom of the tub. “It’s okay, I can wash myself.”
More than anything, I hated the fear that flashed through her expression. I could handle fury or indifference or anything else she tossed my way. But not that.
“If you want me to stop, I will. I promise. It’s all up to you.” I kept my gaze on her face until she looked at me, the shadows in her eyes engulfing the momentary light. “Trust me, Mia.”
Sixteen
I gripped the side of the tub and hoped I looked less panicked than I felt. If he’d been undressed, if I’d been on my knees instead, I wouldn’t have been as nervous. But the intent gleam in his sea-blue eyes scared the hell out of me.
He’d take things from me, things I couldn’t get back. I wanted him to.
Wordlessly, I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to answer.
His hand disappeared under the bubbles—they seemed to be multiplying really fast—and re-emerged on my foot. He rubbed the bar of soap along the top and the arch, using his other hand to raise my ankle. His fingers looked dark against my calf and the calluses on his fingers rubbed like sandpaper over my warmed skin. I couldn’t hold back a moan.
He glanced over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth lifting. He didn’t speak, just kept scrubbing my feet and legs.
The water rose right along with the amount of bubbles. He still didn’t stop. Several times, I opened my mouth to warn him that we were going to flood, then he’d hit some new spot and I’d forget everything but his caresses.
No one had ever touched me like he did. His hands were huge and capable of brutality. Truly lethal weapons. Yet he stroked me like I was so delicate he couldn’t exert more than the most minute amount of pressure or I would vanish.
For the first time in too many years to count, I felt…feminine. Even sexy.
Then he parted my thighs and the warmth inside me evaporated.
“Shh,” he whispered, reading me though I hadn’t said a word. His soapy hand crept higher, traveling over my torso and around my side. Avoiding entirely the area he’d nearly touched.
Gratitude surged through me as he rubbed the bar of soap between my shoulder blades and leaned in to kiss my shoulder. I relaxed from the softness of his mouth despite the sharp teeth ripping through my stomach.
This close, he could see too much of me. Not just my body, but into my eyes. Into what was left of my soul. The amount of light in the bathroom made me feel exposed. I didn’t want him to know I was broken beyond repair. That he was wasting his time.
He massaged my back, just as he’d promised. His agile fingers dug into muscles that had been sore so long I couldn’t remember ever being pain-free. He splashed water all over his jeans as he crawled around me, but he laughed instead of getting irritated.
Eventually, I laughed too.
Then he would stop and stare at me, and I’d shift away like a coward because I wanted to kiss his smile and I didn’t have enough courage.
The next time he parted my thighs, I was long past stopping him. He’d just finished soaping my breasts and he’d looked at them like I was the hottest woman he’d ever seen. I was a fighter, not one of the curvaceous babes he was used to seeing naked. But when his eyes glazed with blatant desire, I couldn’t fight my body’s reaction.
I wanted him. Even more than I had before. Now that I knew the thrill of having him inside me, I craved the sensation. Except this time, I wanted it even harder. He’d been holding back before, and he didn’t need to with me. I found freedom in pain.
Somehow I found freedom in him.
His wet fingers slid over the flesh between my legs, drawing patterns that added to the growing tension in my lower belly. God, it felt good. Already I had a much better grasp of what awaited me than a few hours ago. Instead of shying away, I lurched toward what he could give.
He slipped inside me, his fingers sliding slowly in and out, his thumb circling my clit. I bit my lip as my hips lifted to meet him. Water sloshed over the side of the tub, bubbles flying, and neither of us moved to clean up. I couldn’t get enough of the heat he’d created inside me so I chased it, lost in its pursuit, totally forgetting that he made me nervous, that the way I was acting was so not like me, that I was too afraid to kiss him.
I wasn’t aware of wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and hauling him close, but I must’ve because his lips pressed hot and hard to mine. Our tongues tangled and I couldn’t breathe for how desperately I wanted more of him inside me. Any part I could get. His fingers surged deeper and he groaned, somehow giving me permission to surrender.
Discordant sensations crashed through my body. I was so hot that the water singed my skin. So chilly that goose bumps rose on my arms. Warmth unfurled deep in my core, increasing my urgency. Anticipation had me nipping his tongue, his mouth. I wasn’t careful, and he didn’t seem to care. Mindlessly, I ground myself into his palm, moving in a manic, instinctive rhythm.
“Tray,” I gasped, the only warning I could give him. Even that took all the air I had left.
I came hard, my nails raking his neck. My hips flailed for purchase while my thoughts scattered. Heat rolled over me, chasing away the last of my fear. My entire universe centered on his fingers, and his lips, and the erotic way he panted directly into my mouth as if he were feeding me oxygen.
My overtaxed lungs cramped, and I sobbed for breath. Still, I hungered for more. He didn’t move his hand away, and I couldn’t stop whatever the hell was happening to my system. My thighs were shaking so hard that water kept sloshing over the sides of the tub, but I wasn’t even close to satisfied.
This was my drug,
and he was my pusher. If I didn’t die from sheer bliss, we’d flood his bathroom and probably drown.
I could think of worse ways to go.
When I couldn’t take any more, I grabbed his wrist and whimpered, not capable of actual speech. He chuckled and kissed me, sucking on my sore lower lip until my eyes flicked open and met his.
“I’m addicted to watching you come. To giving you pleasure and watching you take it,” he whispered.
Barely, just barely, I resisted shrinking away and ducking my head.
He chuckled again, then glanced down at the floor. “Oh, shit.”
I dragged myself up from my half sitting, half reclining position and peered over the side of the tub. The mat under his knees was soaked. Water and bubbles everywhere.
Shock wound through my limp body. “Got a mop?”
Yet again he stunned me by laughing. Nodding, he got to his feet and turned off the water. We’d, ah, sort of forgotten about that.
“Yeah. I’ll be right back.” He looked down at me and caught his tongue between his teeth. “You really don’t need to get dressed.”
With that, he was gone.
I buried my head in my hands. And grinned. Like a dolt.
Like a girl who’d just had probably three orgasms back-to-back. I couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began.
I’d finished dressing by the time he returned. Thank God I’d set my clothes on the toilet. Since his shirt and hoodie hadn’t fared as well, he threw those in the washer while I mopped. He insisted on taking over a few minutes later, so I did what I could with paper towels and elbow grease.
In under half an hour, the bathroom was back to rights, and I was falling asleep standing up. My sex adrenaline rush had finally worn off. In another minute, I’d be ready to curl up on the damp floor.
“It’s late.” Fox brushed a hand down my hair as we stared at our work.
“How late?” I’d left my purse and phone near the front door.
He tugged his phone out of his jeans. “Three-eleven.”
“Are you shitting me?” I whirled on him and punched his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His lips twitched. “We were a little busy for me to be watching the clock.”
Whoops, I hadn’t fulfilled my part of the deal. I dropped my gaze to the front of his jeans. He wasn’t fully hard, but he wasn’t exactly soft.
Was he ever?
“Sorry, I forgot. Did you, um, want me to—”
“You forgot?” His grin crept into his voice. “Wow, kill a guy’s ego, why don’t you?”
I didn’t grin back, but I came awfully close. “I don’t think anything could kill your ego.”
“Oh, sweetheart, if anyone could, it would be you.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I stared down at my socks. Nice to see I hadn’t lost my inherent lack of social graces.
“Come on.” He turned me toward the door. “Let’s get you home. Unless you want to spend the night?”
Not wanting to ruin what had turned into a semi-decent evening—okay, I was lying to myself, so sue me—I mumbled something about not sleeping well anywhere but in my own bed. He nodded and led me to the door.
I’m sure he was thrilled with me right about now. First, I’d told him I didn’t want a boyfriend, then I’d helped flood his bathroom and forgot to get him off. Now I insisted on going home in the middle of the night when it was snowing and cold as fuck out. Most likely I wouldn’t be getting an invite to return anytime soon. Just as well.
My clit sent up a weak throb of protest. After tonight, the possibility of no sexual activity from here on out made me want to punch something. Hard. Maybe I’d need to invest in a toy after all. If I could get over my embarrassment, I’d ask Kizzy what she recommended. That girl could practically recite the Kama Sutra from memory.
Once Fox had grabbed another hoodie from the peg in the front hall, he pulled it on and we headed outside. To my utter relief, he flagged down a cab and waited for me to tell my address to the cabbie. I was about to suggest to Fox that he stay home when he nailed me with the look and I fell silent.
I stewed throughout the short ride to my building. We were already falling into uncomfortable patterns. He wasn’t responsible for my safety and therefore did not need to accompany me home. I’d been taking care of myself for years.
And I certainly didn’t need him to pay the cabbie or walk me to my door, though he insisted on doing both. By then the look was practically a death glare, so I chalked everything up to the overall craziness of the night.
We headed up the hall in silence, both deep in thought. Deep in something. At least the shit we’d stepped into smelled good.
Damn his stupid, sexy as hell cologne.
A sliver of light under my apartment door caught my eye. I stopped walking and stared, sure I had to be imagining things. I couldn’t face anything else tonight. My tank was so empty, I was operating on fumes.
Fox stopped walking too, his gaze following mine. “What is it?”
My throat went tight and hot, making it difficult for me to formulate words. “There’s a light on.” My voice quivered, much to my disgust. Had to be exhaustion. “See?”
“You didn’t leave one on?”
I gritted my teeth. God, did I really need to deal with him right now too? “Would I be panicking if I had?”
“You might’ve forgotten—” He fell silent at my death glare and nodded. “Okay. Let me handle this.”
“Excuse me?”
Without responding, he shuffled me behind him like the little woman he obviously thought I was. He was too busy moving stealthily toward my door to pay me any mind so I thumped him on the shoulder without checking my strength.
That got his attention. “What the fuck, Mia?” he demanded in a low voice.
“It’s my apartment. I’m not some wussy woman who can’t deal with her own stuff.”
I used his moment of surprise to dart in front of him and try the knob. The door was unlocked. Terror bubbled in my stomach as I shoved it open, only to be tossed aside at the last second by my charging hero. We burst through the doorway like a comedy duo from a fifties movie, coming up short at the fearsome sight that awaited us.
A petite woman in a fuzzy bathrobe and green face mask stood next to the couch, a spatula covered in what looked like brownie batter halfway to her lips. She blinked her big blue eyes then let out a whoop and launched herself in my direction. “Ame!”
“Ame?” Fox muttered. “Who the hell’s Ame?”
But I didn’t have time to worry about him right now. My sister was here.
Carly careened into me and nearly sent me sprawling to the floor. I clutched her waist and we dance-rocked back and forth, mumbling mostly incoherent babble. We hadn’t seen each other for a month, not since Christmas, and even then we’d only had a day together before I had to get back to the city for work. Tears sprang into my eyes and I sobbed into her neck, totally consumed with emotion.
Totally forgetting we had a witness.
“Shh,” Carly murmured into my hair.
It reminded me so much of what Fox had said earlier that I reared back and gazed at her with streaming eyes. Then I glanced at Fox, who was staring at me in stunned disbelief.
“Well, well. Who are we?” Carly pitched an eyebrow at me before she marched forward and stuck her hand out to Fox. He shook, limply.
I supposed I’d shocked him with my display. Served him right for making me come so much and trying to save my life.
“That’s Tray Knox,” I said when it became obvious he wasn’t going to answer. I rubbed the back of my hand under my nose and waved the other at him. “He’s just leaving.”
“Is he?” Carly’s eyebrow was going to get stuck near her hairline if she didn’t relax her features soon. “He doesn’t look like he’s in a hurry.”
“I’m not.” Finally recovering, he turned his typical Fox smile on Carly and dazzled her with about one-hundred-fifty watts o
f pure sex appeal.
I didn’t get wet again. Seriously, I didn’t.
“Now that you know who I am, you would be?” he asked Carly.
“I’m Ame’s sister. Carly.” Carly cocked her head and looked back and forth between Fox and me. After a full minute of checking us out, she grinned. “Holy shit, Ame has a boyfriend!” Before I could dispute that assertion—hotly—she poked a finger into Fox’s chest. “Dude, you really are real, right? I’m not dreaming this, am I?”
“I’m real.” His annoying grin never wavered. “Promise.”
What he didn’t say? That he was not my mothereffing boyfriend.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I turned and marched to the galley kitchen on the opposite side of the living room. Opposite side in this case meant a couple hundred feet. I did not have a fancy ass place like Fox, but it suited me fine. It was great.
Everything was so fabulous, I was practically aglow with joy.
“It’s almost four in the morning, Car,” I called as I turned on the faucet. “A little late for one of your bake-offs.”
“Late or early, depending,” Carly called back, not sounding the least bit apologetic.
Carly baked whenever she was stressed, a habit she’d started in childhood. Back then, she’d had our mother to help her whip up her manic feasts. I didn’t know what she was worried about now, but I figured it had to be fairly big if she’d shown up without warning and let herself into my apartment. She’d never done that before. If something was wrong with our aunt, she would’ve told me right away, which meant it must be emotional crap I had absolutely no hope of being able to handle.
How many times in one day did I need to be reminded of my own inadequacies?
I banged pots and pans on the kitchen counter while I cleaned up Carly’s mess. Not only were brownies baking, she’d also made what looked like biscuits. I had to be at the gym in a few hours and had work after that. With Fox, since he couldn’t even leave me alone at my job.
Now my stomach was growling.
Snatches of conversation drifted over to me but I ignored them while I tidied up. Whatever they said to each other didn’t matter. I would find out why Carly was here on a school night as soon as Fox left, then I would send her home in the morning. After that, I would deal with Fox for a few more weeks until I could kick his ass and get my money.
