“Fine. Whatever. You done?” She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t face Pierce right now. It hurt too badly. She hated knowing she’d disappointed him and probably lost him in the process.
“What other friend did you lose?”
She gave him the most exasperated look she could manage. “You. Now, are you done?” She headed for the door, intent on getting him to leave.
He didn’t follow her. “Why me?”
“Because I knew you would eventually barge in here all disappointed in me and lecture me about my bad choices. I’m not interested in being constantly judged. I don’t have time for that from anyone in my life anymore.” She opened the door and held it, sweeping one hand toward the hallway. “So. Off you go.”
He didn’t budge. Instead, his gaze trailed to the bandage on her biceps. “What happened to your arm?”
“I got a tattoo.”
His lips curved upward again. “Of course you did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t get all offended. I’m just not surprised, is all.” He stared at her a moment and then slowly sauntered toward her, his gaze locked on hers, his expression strange and unreadable. When he reached her side, he pushed the door closed and kept advancing, forcing her back against it.
Before she could wrap her mind around his actions, he set his palm on her neck and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “But back to your earlier statement, I didn’t really want to be your friend anyway. I’ve known you for two months. At no point did I really think of you as a friend. I just pretended because I knew you needed time and space before I asked you out on a real date. I’m done waiting now.” His gaze shifted to her lips.
She gasped. Was he going to kiss her? It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. He was the kind of man any woman would swoon over. Military. Police officer. Tall, dark, handsome. The works. This was the first time he’d gotten this close to her. It was also the first time she’d been certain he was interested in her in this way.
Kissing him was a bad idea, but she had no interest in stopping him. It had been so many years since anyone looked at her with the smoldering gaze he was currently using.
He seemed to gauge her reaction and found it agreeable because a moment later, his lips were on hers. Soft. Gentle. Smooth. And then rough and demanding as he tipped his head to one side and moaned into her mouth.
She grabbed his biceps to keep from collapsing to the floor as her knees threatened to buckle. All her bravado fled in an instant.
Her senses went on overload. Maybe someone in high school had kissed her like this, but she couldn’t remember it if it had happened. She tasted mint from gum or something, and he had the clean scent of a recent shower combined with his personal pheromones that worked as an aphrodisiac.
He used his thumb to angle her head the way he wanted it and then stepped closer until his body pressed fully against hers.
Her heart pounded as her nipples came to life. That certainly hadn’t happened in the last five years.
Pierce was like a drug. And she wanted more. She felt alive. On fire. Desperate. She slid her hands down his arms and then moved them to his hips and under his shirt.
He moaned into her mouth as she flattened her palms on his back and then dipped her fingertips into his jeans.
If he was still mad at her or thought she needed more lecturing, it would have to wait because right now she wanted him to fuck her so hard that she couldn’t remember what he’d been admonishing her for.
When he broke the kiss and leaned his head back a few inches, she licked her swollen lips. “What’s wrong?” Why the hell did he stop? Adrenaline pumped through her system. The kind of rush that came from an unexpected gift. This one wasn’t wrapped in paper, but it was just as powerful.
“I don’t want to be friends,” he repeated. “I’m done being friends.”
“Okay,” she whispered. She had no idea what he was trying to say, but she didn’t care. “Can we be the sort of not friends who have sex in the next two minutes?”
He gave her a slow gorgeous smile. “We can be the sort of not friends who have sex, but I hope it lasts more than two minutes.”
Now she smiled. “Good.” And then she pulled his lips down to hers again. It had also been a long time since she’d had sex that lasted longer than two minutes. However, that had been a relief while she’d been married to Louis the asshole. By the end of her five years of hell, she’d shuddered at the very idea of being in the same room with him, let alone having his dick inside her.
She shivered, shaking images of her fucking ex from her mind. Tonight, right now, she was going to replace those memories with one of an amazing hot man tenderly sliding into her. One who set her body on fire.
She was already beyond ready, her pussy wet and pleading for more. She needed this. She needed to feel alive the way she was certain Pierce could accomplish.
He released her lips again, breathing heavily. While he held her gaze, his hands lowered to the hem of her white T-shirt, and he whipped it over her head in an instant.
She felt self-conscious about her plain white bra for a moment. After all, she hadn’t expected to get naked with the man who’d come over to admonish her for letting Hope spend the night. She hadn’t considered sleeping with any man yet since she’d left her jackhole of a husband.
Pierce’s gaze landed on her chest. He was breathing heavily. So was she. Her breasts felt heavier, and they rose and fell with every inhale. Emboldened and anxious. She tugged his navy police T-shirt over his head, dropped it on the floor, and then reached behind her back to unclasp her bra.
Pierce’s hands came to her chest and cupped her breasts as soon as she shrugged out of the white cotton. His thumbs swiped over her nipples, sending a spark of electricity to her pussy.
The feeling was invigorating. She wanted more. She wanted him inside her. Now. She kicked off her shoes at the same time he did, then her hands went to the button of his jeans while his went to hers. They both fumbled, bumping foreheads and struggling.
Finally, Pierce released her zipper, shoved her hands out of the way, and finished removing his jeans without her help. “Off,” he said, nodding at her waist.
She mimicked him, shrugging out of the denim, taking off her panties at the same time. Her gaze focused on his cock. Thick, bobbing. Blue veins stood out up and down his erection. Come leaked from the tip. She reached for him, wrapping her hand around his length and stroking up and down.
He grabbed her ass with both hands and hauled her closer. “Jesus. I feel like a teenager,” he muttered. “I don’t want to fuck you against the door.”
She pulled her trapped hand from between them, hitched one leg up along his thigh, and lifted her face. “No one has ever fucked me against a door, Pierce. It sounds like a good idea. You should do it. Now.”
He might have given her a small smile, but a second later his lips were on hers again, devouring her with a new desperation. With a groan, he released her lips, bent down, grabbed his jeans, and pulled a condom from his pocket. Two seconds later, he rolled it down his erection, and his hands went back to her ass. He lifted her, sliding her up the doorway.
She gasped as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock pressed into her belly.
He held her steady with one palm still on her butt, but his other hand slid between her legs from behind. The next thing she knew, the blood was rushing from her head as he stroked his fingers through her folds. Her pussy was dripping wet in anticipation.
He broke their kiss again, heaving for oxygen, his eyes on hers. “Jesus, London. You’re soaking wet.”
She bit her lip. Hard. The pain grounded her. It might have kept her from coming instantly too. She shouldn’t be embarrassed. He had to realize it had been a fucking long time since she’d had sex of any kind, let alone good sex.
When she squirmed, he removed his hand and reached for his cock to line it up with her pussy. The moment he lowered her over his length, her eyes rol
led back. She hit her head on the door, but she didn’t give a damn.
My God, that feels good.
She tried to remember if she’d ever had sex this good, and the answer was no. How had this not been her number one priority for the past two months? In all the stuff she’d been experiencing since she’d gained freedom from her abusive ex, she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten to include sex. She’d been missing out.
Maybe it was the circumstances, or the fact that it had been so long. Or the door. Or the sexy detective. Or the fight they’d had. Or the time of the month. Who the hell knew? But nothing had ever felt this good.
He lifted her waist until only the tip of his cock remained and then slammed her back down.
She cried out, her legs tightening around him. The base of his cock hit her clit. She was going to come. Crazier? She’d never come during sex in her life.
She felt light-headed as his lips landed on her neck, kissing her everywhere, up to her ear and then around to the other one. Meanwhile, he slid in and out of her several times, short thrusts that rubbed against her clit over and over.
He grabbed one of her breasts with his free hand, squeezing, molding, pinching the tip. The next moment, he released the swollen globe and slid his hand down between them. When his fingers hit her clit, she moaned. Her head lolled back and forth against the door. “God, yes.”
He rubbed harder, driving her to new heights. She sucked in a sharp breath and held it, so close. My God. So close.
“Come, baby.”
At those words, she shattered, her body convulsing around him, milking him, throbbing against his fingers as he continued to rub her rapidly.
When the vibrations subsided, the desperation increased. She lowered her head to face him. She didn’t need to beg, though, because he released her clit to lift his hand and cup the back of her head. Holding her tight, his lips came to hers. “Hold on, baby.”
She gripped his shoulders and rode him. Hard and fast. He did the work, but it still felt empowering from above. Every slide of his cock made her aware of more and more nerve endings as she unexpectedly climbed back to the edge of nirvana once again. Finally, she realized she was going to come a second time. And she did, gasping or perhaps crying. She wasn’t sure.
His eyes slid shut as he pumped into her, faster, harder, deeper. Finally, he gripped her ass tight and held steady. His body pulsed out his orgasm on a long groan that penetrated the only sound in the room—heavy breathing.
When they were both spent, they remained right there for long seconds, him holding her pressed against the door, her gripping his waist with her legs. He smiled as he kissed her lips gently. Then he stared at her forever. Finally, he licked his lips and said, “I wish I could carry you to your bed and ease you onto the mattress, but my knees would give out, so you’re going to have to walk on your own.”
She smiled in return. “I think I can walk.”
He lifted her off his cock and lowered her to her feet. “Can you stand?” he asked, still gripping her waist.
“Yeah.” She wasn’t sure. She was shaking. So many things had left her unsteady. Emotionally and physically. She was wrung out. Exhausted.
He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers with hers. “Show me your bedroom.”
“Okay.” Were things going to get awkward now? What the hell happened now that they’d fucked? In her apartment. Against the door. Friends. Or not friends. Or whatever they were. Acquaintances with benefits? Was that what this was? Would they do it again? When? Tonight? Another night?
So many questions. Not one part of her felt like having that conversation either. She just wanted to curl into him and fall asleep. To hell with the unanswered questions. They could wait.
She led him to her bedroom. It was a mess. Clothes were on the floor. Drawers were hanging open. Laundry was in the basket. Some clean. Some dirty. She’d been living like this for weeks, in defiance of the dead asshole who’d expected her to keep every damn thing perfect in his home for five years.
Pierce didn’t say a word. He might not have even noticed. His eyes were on her—hungry eyes—when she turned around at the edge of the unmade bed. He lifted her by the waist and set her on the mattress. Without losing her gaze for more than a second at a time, he grabbed a few tissues from her bedside table, disposed of his condom, and dropped it in the trash. Only then did he finally climb up over her.
She found herself inconceivably still aroused. As she lowered on her back, her head on one of her many pillows, he lowered alongside her, one leg over hers, one hand on her belly, his head on his other palm. He stared down at her.
She felt a deeper sense of nudity, like he could see inside her.
His hand drew circles on her belly and then wandered up to trace around her nipple, spiraling around her breast.
She shuddered, making him grin.
“You’re still aroused.”
She didn’t respond.
“That’s so damn hot.”
He pinched her nipple, making her arch into him and moan. Her hand flew to his biceps. It should embarrass her that she was still so needy, but she didn’t give a fuck. If they were going to start sleeping together, then she would take full advantage of every second.
Were they? Going to do start having sex regularly? She shook that thought away again.
He released her nipple and smoothed his hand down between her legs. He nudged them wider with his knee and then pressed his thigh between hers.
She moaned. “Pierce…” Her gaze went bleary, though she knew he still stared into her eyes.
He eased a finger into her still-wet channel and then slowly began to fuck her with first one and then two fingers. His thumb landed on her clit, pressing. When her breath hitched, he curled his fingers toward the front of her channel and dragged them over her G-spot.
She dug her nails into his arm, unable to stop herself. “Pierce,” she cried out.
He might have smiled, but he certainly didn’t stop. Nor did he say a word. But he expertly played her body until she was squirming. He had her trapped with his thigh, however, and he continued undaunted to finger her, hitting her G-spot over and over while his thumb rubbed her clit.
And then, almost without warning, she came. Hard. A third orgasm. She screamed, arching her chest and pressing her pussy into his palm. Her tired body pulsed. She couldn’t catch her breath.
Finally, when she was spent, he eased his fingers out of her, brought them to his lips, and sucked them clean.
Jesus, that was hot. Everything he’d done was hot. Melt-her-panties hot.
Her body shivered.
He reached down, grabbed the covers, and pulled them over their bodies. Next, he leaned over to the bedside table and turned off the light.
For several minutes, they lay there in silence. She knew he wasn’t sleeping because he continued to stroke her arm. And then he spoke. “So, you don’t want to be friends anymore?”
She gave a soft chuckle. “If you promise not to shout at me again, we can be friends.”
“I wasn’t shouting. We were having a heated discussion.”
“I don’t like heated discussions, so don’t do it again.”
“Okay. I’ll try.” He stroked up and down her arm again. “Maybe we could be more than friends?”
She stiffened. “More than friends?”
He stopped moving. “Yeah… You know, like dating?”
She wiggled out from under him and sat up. Apparently they were going to have this conversation whether she wanted to or not. She reached across and turned the light back on. “I don’t want to get into a relationship, Pierce. I just got out of one. An ugly one. A very long ugly one that ended in my husband trying to kill me and then getting shot himself.”
Pierce’s brows drew together. “I know that,” he said softly. “I was there. And, I’m not him.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t say you were. And I like you. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me in the past few mon
ths. Really. I do. But I’m not even close to being ready to enter another commitment.”
He nodded slowly. “What are you ready for?”
She wasn’t sure. She had no idea. She said the first thing that came to mind. “Friends? With, uh, benefits?”
He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “Will you be having other friends who also have benefits?”
She hadn’t thought that through. She hadn’t thought any of this through. She hadn’t planned to have sex with Pierce tonight. She’d envisioned him stomping into her apartment, reading her the riot act, and then leaving just as quickly because he was so disappointed in her.
This twist of events where he instead fucked the daylights out of her hadn’t entered the short list of possibilities.
She ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “I don’t know,” she defiantly stammered. “This was rather unexpected.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t really expecting to do this tonight either. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been thinking about it nonstop for the past month, but thinking and acting are two different things.”
She met his gaze. “Well, if I’m being honest, it was the best sex ever. But you can’t expect me to be your girlfriend or something now. I’m not interested in anything like that. I don’t know if I ever will be.”
She was free for the first time in years. Free to do whatever she wanted. She didn’t want to answer to anyone for any reason. Not even a man who might be able to give her fantastic sex regularly. But, hell, she certainly wanted the fantastic sex.
“Okay.” He lifted both hands, palms out. “You tell me what you want.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. Finally, she blew out a breath. “Okay, then. I wouldn’t mind a friend with benefits. As long as we keep it casual. You can’t start calling me every day or texting me all the time. I don’t want to feel trapped.”
He seemed to search her gaze, or perhaps he was thinking. Maybe both. “Okay. For now. But”—he narrowed his gaze—“I don’t like the thought of you sleeping with other men. Can you at least grant me that concession?”
“Yes. However…” She lifted a brow. “You better not come over in a week and say you’ve changed your mind and want some sort of commitment. I’m not going to change mine. Take it or leave it.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her one way or the other. It mattered. She wasn’t sure how much, but it mattered. If for no other reason than the heat level of that amazing sex and the three fucking fantastic orgasms he’d given her. Those factors counted for something.
Claiming London Page 2
