Hook Up (15 page)

She dropped to her knees in front of him and reached for the button of his pants. His hands caught hers, but she batted them away and eased his zipper down. She reached through the opening of his boxers and found his cock. She watched his eyes, already losing some of the reserve he was working so hard to maintain.

His jaw clenched. She bent her head and took him in her mouth.

She stayed near the tip, licking salt from him. She wasn’t going to rush this. She was going to make him wait, and slowly drive him further and further away from his newfound restraint. She didn’t want control from him—she wanted him as desperate as she was. She flattened her tongue and laved the underside of his cock, rubbing hard, just under the head. She reached for his hands, lacing her fingers through his and keeping them where she wanted them, at his sides. Taking him deeper, she swirled her tongue, sucking, then bobbing up and down.

She hummed, enjoying his scent, his taste and the way he felt firm against her tongue and the inside of her mouth. Squeezing his wrists to let him know she expected them to stay flat on the couch, she shifted to cup his balls with one hand. The other she wrapped around the base of his cock. She slicked her palm up and down in a hard caress, making him groan, and moved her tongue in a circle, increasing the motion of her hand.

His back arched and she felt the exact moment he gave up. His control disintegrated. Raw need drew her to him and she welcomed it. His hands gripped her head and she gave him what he wanted, took him to the back of her throat and sucked hard. His hips thrust toward her, nearly choking her, and she tightened her grip on him, filled with relief and satisfaction. He stilled and she breathed, fluttering her tongue against him and drawing another long moan from his throat.

She had him now. Anytime she wanted him.

He gripped her shoulders. “Let me come inside,” he whispered roughly.

She raised her head. “You’re already inside. That’s what I keep telling you.”

His eyes blazed. “You say that and yet…” He shook his head and took a deep breath. She watched his expression tighten, then gasped as his emotions slipped out of reach again. “What do I have to do, Crystal? What is it going to take to convince you this is real?”

He tipped forward, taking her down to the floor. The carpet was soft against her back as he rocked against her, fitting his angles into her curves, teasing her until she was breathless. She clutched his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. She needed to fill the emptiness, she needed to feel him inside her…goddamn it, she needed
something
. “It doesn’t get any more real than this,” she whispered.

He pressed her hands to the floor on either side of her head and kissed her with an intensity that shook her to her core. Then he tugged her legs from around his waist, rolled to the side and stood. Her heart pounded as he unbuttoned his shirt and let it drop. He kicked off his shoes and socks and shed the rest of his clothes.

“I think it does,” he said. “Want to find out?”

She stared up at him, dry-mouthed. He never stopped pushing, never stopped trying to get inside her head. But wasn’t that what she wanted? Hadn’t she just been dying to have him inside her? He wasn’t running away. What if he wasn’t going to run at all?

A shudder ripped through her, and she moaned as hope broke free deep inside her, a fracture she could no longer control.

His grin was wicked. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

She nodded and took the hand he held out to her, following him down the hall to a large bedroom. This room matched what she’d seen of the rest of the house, gorgeous wood floors, bright fabrics and modern art on the white walls. She sucked in a breath as she noticed the low dresser was piled with very familiar bags. “I never saw you buy anything at the store.”

“Because you hid from me on your lunch hour.” He pulled items out of bags and tossed them onto the bed.

Pink fur-lined handcuffs. Silk rope. A blindfold. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the spreader bar. “I’m sensing a theme here.”

He shrugged. “A man has a lot of interesting fantasies when the woman he wants keeps running away from him.”

She had a fantasy too, but it didn’t require props. Just him. And her. And a terrifying amount of trust.

She reached up to touch his face, brushing her thumb over the lines that appeared at the corner of his eyes when he smiled at her. Aside from what had happened ten years ago, had he given her any reason not to trust him? He’d stayed in Norton and come to the store every day. He’d given her ibuprofen and made an effort to control his emotions. He’d carried her out of an orgy, for God’s sake.

Special. Rare. Real.

She stepped away from him, kicked off her shoes and crawled onto the king-size bed. When she reached the pillows, she turned over and made herself comfortable, folding her arms behind her head, hiding her nerves behind a teasing smile. “Do I look like I’m running away?”

He picked up the rope and moved to the head of the bed. “Forgive me for making absolutely certain of that.”

She watched him secure her wrists to the iron headboard. “Boy Scout?” she asked, bemused by his fast, tight knots.

“Sailor.”

Of course. He probably had a boat or several docked at home in sunny California. Doubt made her scramble to put distance between them, but there was no give in the ropes.

“Too tight?” he asked, checking her bonds.

She shook her head. Her circulation was fine. Her shield was another matter. It was riddled with cracks because he wasn’t even trying to block her now. His white-hot desire made answering heat surge through her in helpless waves. She closed her eyes, growing wetter as he drew her legs apart and wrapped her ankles with soft rope.

She heard a bag rustle and her eyes blinked open. He held up a SoloPlay Screamer, the exact model she preferred. She kicked against the ropes but found her ankles were bound as expertly as her wrists. “There is no way you picked that out by yourself.”

“Of course I did. According to the package, every woman needs to scream once in a while.” He dropped it back into the bag. “Maybe later. I want to be the one to make you scream right now.” He put the bag on the dresser, and when he turned around, she saw a box of condoms in his hand.

He ripped it open, separated one and tossed the rest of them onto the bedside table. “We’re going to need all of these. If I’ve only got you for a night, I’m going to make the most of it.”

She opened her mouth to protest but he bent to kiss her, sweeping inside, stroking his tongue against hers. At the same instant, he thrust two fingers inside her body in a hard caress. Desire consumed her. He added a third finger and did something with his thumb that felt so good she spread her legs impossibly wide. She panted against his lips, caught by the ropes, his hand and his blinding need for her. Thought became impossible. Speech was a memory. She screamed, fighting to get closer to him.

Every muscle in her body tensed as her climax hit. She arched off the bed, clenching. Excruciating pleasure rushed through her in hard spasms, and she whimpered when he took his hand away. She reached for him, but her hands were held fast by the ropes. “Please don’t leave me,” she begged, desperate for more of him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She felt the truth of his words down to her foundation. He sheathed himself with a condom and settled his weight on top of her, pinning her to the bed. She couldn’t move, yet she felt more free than she had in a decade. She gazed up at him, trembling with anticipation, and reached for him in the only way she could.

Mahogany eyes, warm, like bittersweet chocolate. He was braced over her, waiting, holding her gaze with infinite tenderness. Her soul opened, enveloped him. Her consciousness spun out around them as he slid inside.

She felt her cracks widen. Her shield shattered and her walls crumbled to the ground. There was nothing left to hide, no barriers between them and no way to escape. He filled her—body and mind, heart and soul. With a soft cry, she surrendered. She gave him everything and he gave it back to her, setting her on fire from the inside out, just as she had known he would. Her world exploded and he burned with her, holding her tight.

When the flames were gone, he reached up and tugged sharply at the knots around her wrists, freeing her hands. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, never wanting to let him go.

Chapter Eleven

The smell of coffee roused her from slumber. She rolled over and stretched. What a fabulous night. Holy God, Ryan had made love like a man possessed. Every inch of her skin felt touched, changed, as if she had sloughed off yet another incarnation of Crystal and become…what? Fearless? Invincible? For the first time in weeks, her head felt steady.

Another scent drifted down the hall. Was that bacon? Hell yes, she was staying for breakfast. She got out of bed and followed her nose.

She found him in the kitchen, fully dressed in a suit, with his laptop open on the table and coffee in front of him. “Good morning,” she said. “I didn’t realize we were dressing for this event.”

“Clothes are optional for you, but I booked an early flight to San Jose. I don’t want to get thrown out of the airport for public nudity.” His grin was too casual.

Automatically, she reached out and felt…nothing. Her heart felt lodged in her throat, blocking speech. The balance in her head vanished. After a night like last night, he was just going to leave? Instinctively, she slammed walls up to hide her dismay.

“I’ll get my clothes.” She reversed course for the bedroom and stood staring for several long minutes before she remembered her dress was in the living room on the floor. She stumbled in that direction, scooped up her dress, panties and shoes, and carried them into the bathroom. She wasn’t going to stay for breakfast, or spend the day with him, as she had hoped. He wouldn’t be here to bring her coffee at work tomorrow, and she wouldn’t be able to surprise him by accepting his invitation to lunch. Or dinner. She swallowed hard, fighting back nausea.

She had no idea what to do. Play it cool? Beg him to stay? There hadn’t been a shred of emotion on his surface to guide her. What would she tell one of her clients to do?

Be honest.
She shuddered.

She slipped into her clothes and shoes. Walking into the kitchen was harder this time, but at least he had poured her a cup of coffee. She took a sip and asked her first question. “Why didn’t you tell me you had an early flight?”

“Last-minute decision.”

He had woken up this morning and decided to go home? Okay, that hurt. “Are you going for good?”

He raked a hand through his hair, making the blond waves stick up. “Are you worried I’ll come back and knock you off balance again? You can rest easy. I have plenty to keep me busy back home. I won’t bother you anymore.”

Maybe she’d hurt
him
. The cold ball of fear inside her softened. She’d been so wrapped up in her own emotions she hadn’t thought about what the last two weeks had been like for him. Her constant rejection must have been hell. She took his hand and kissed it. “You aren’t bothering me anymore. Last night changed a lot of things for me. Are you sure you have to go?”

A wide grin spread across his face as he shook his head. “In that case, I don’t have to go anywhere. Let’s go back to bed.” He crushed his mouth to hers while he unknotted his tie. His kiss set her on fire again, and he was halfway out of his shirt by the time she thought to ask, “Don’t you need to cancel your flight?”

“Nope.” He grabbed her hand to pull her out of the kitchen, and she caught a flash of guilt.

“Wait.” She stared at him. “Why not?”

“Because I didn’t book one.” He winked. “Staying wasn’t working.”

She stared at him until his smile faltered. She caught it again.
Guilt. Hurt. Triumph
. She pulled her hand out of his grasp and took several quick breaths as her stomach dropped into her stilettos.

She had let him in. She had trusted him, had opened up with him more than she had with anyone—and he was playing games? “You didn’t really book a flight? You just said that to mess with my head? You lied to me?”

He reached for her hand again, but she took several scuttling steps back. “Is this a game to you?” He shook his head and opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him a chance to speak. “
Special, rare and real
, huh? You actually had me convinced. I believed you. I was ready. I wasn’t playing hard to get, Ryan. It really is this hard for me to let someone become a part of my life.” Or was it only hard because it was him? Because she loved him? Abruptly, the pain became ten times worse, not because she had admitted it to herself, but because he had stopped shielding her from his emotions.

“No!” Her voice was sharp and her anger was hot. “You keep all of that to yourself now. Your loneliness isn’t for me. I wish you hadn’t learned that little control trick from Johnny, or I would have known you were playing me last night.”

The emotion pouring out of him receded but the agony on his face still hurt her. She had to get out of here. She spotted his keys on the counter and picked them up, easily identifying the one for the Cayman. She separated it from the ring. “I’ll leave your car in the parking lot at Downtown and give Johnny the key. Go back to California, Ryan. You won your little game, but it’s over. I can’t be with someone who isn’t honest with me.” She dropped the rest of the keys on the counter with a crash. “I can’t believe I let you in.”