Playing With Her Heart (27 page)

“I like it when you
do that,” I whisper.

“I know.”

He presses against me,
and the feel of him is extraordinary. Even while standing, I love the
pressure and weight of him. He runs his hands from my neck down to my
breasts, then he turns me around and I’m looking at the mirror. He
kneels behind me, so I can’t see him. I tremble with anticipation,
then I feel his breath along my calf, and he’s kissing his way up
my leg, stopping to trace his tongue along the back of my knee in
such a delicious way that sparks of heat shoot across my body. Now,
he’s bunching up the fabric of my dress at my waist and he kisses
my thigh. He reaches my ass, and I cry out because everything he does
feels so incredible, especially as he runs the tip of his tongue
along one cheek, then flicks his tongue against my lace panties. I
bow my back, giving him better access for anything and everything.

“Whatever you’re
doing feels amazing,” I say in between broken breaths.

“Good. That’s how
it should feel.” Then he stands, moves his hands to my hips, and
yanks me against him. I start to circle my hips without even being
aware of it. I want him so badly, and he knows it. He knows what he
does to me, and he enjoys it as he hooks his arm between my legs, his
fingers touching me through my panties. I shudder, and desire spreads
through my whole body, as if every cell is comprised solely of the
dark craving to be touched by him.

“Look at yourself,”
he says, grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head. I look at
my reflection. My face is flush, and my hair is wild, and my lips
have that just-been-kissed look.

“I look like I’ve
just been fucked,” I say.

“No. That’s how
you’ll look later tonight when this damn event is over, and I can
take you out of here and finally have you the way I want,” he says,
and an image of later, of him inside me flashes by, making me hotter.
Then he lowers his voice, “and the way you want too.”

“I do. I do want
that,” I say, breathless with my need for him.

“Now press your hands
against the mirror because I want us both to watch you as you come,”
he tells me, and I do. Then, I hear him unzip his pants, and soon I
can feel him press his erection against my backside. God, he feels
amazing, and reflexively I push back, trying desperately to lure him
in for more contact. “Please,” I whimper.

“Jill,” he says,
tsk, tsking me. “I promise you, there will be plenty of time for
that. But I’ll give you an idea.”

Then, maybe just to
tease me, he slides his cock between my legs, and I nearly scream. It
feels so good to have him against me, even for one brief moment, and
I am absolutely aching to filled up by him. But all he gives me is
that—a taste, before he returns to that tantalizing way of holding
me tight, his hard length against me, taunting me with what I want.

“Oh, Jill. The things
I’m going to do to you,” he says, as if he’s simply musing on
the topic.

“What are you going
to do to me?”

Holding my wrists
firmly in place, he dips his other hand inside my panties, and rubs
his finger in dizzying circles against me.

“I’m going to
spread you out on my bed and trail my tongue between your legs, and
just when you reach down to grab my hair, I’ll flip you over on
your front, and then bring your ass up in the air, and I’m going to
go down on you in that position.”

No one has ever gone
down on me like that. No one has ever talked to me this way. Hell, no
one has touched me this way. But I want so badly to do all these
things with him. Only with him. I want to feel his talented tongue
swirling against me. I want to take him in my mouth and taste him
when he comes. I want to wrap my hands around him again and feel how
hard he is. My mind is racing with images of all we will do, and when
he rubs his finger against me, it’s sweet agony. I am burning all
over him, my entire body a delicious ache.

“And you’re going
to squirm and raise your ass for me, as I run my tongue across all
this fucking fantastic wetness,” he says and takes his time tracing
lazy circles across my clit, until all of a sudden, he slides his
finger hard inside me, crooking it, and reaching that spot where he
starts to send me over the edge. “And you’ll grab the pillows
hard in your hands, and push yourself back into me.”

“Oh God. I can’t
wait much longer.”

“It won’t be much
longer,” he says. “Now open your eyes, and watch in the mirror as
I make you come.”

I do as he says and my
hair is a wanton tumble, my shoulders are rising and falling, and
Davis looks like he wants to consume me.

“Do you know what
else I want to do to you?”

“What else do you
want to do?” I ask him in the mirror, his reflection wild as he
stares at me.

“I want to be
underneath you and pull you on top of me so I can taste you that way.
Would you like that? Would you like to be on top of me, fucking my
face?”

I can’t form words
any more. All I can manage is a loud moan. He strokes me harder,
pushing me closer to the release, and all the while, he keeps
whispering, a low, dirty growl that sends new shivers pulsating
through me, as I race to the edge. “The next time you come, I’m
going to be inside you,” he breathes, his strong arm locking me in
place, his steel length pressed hard against my back. “Filling you
up, over and over, until you can’t take any more. I’m going to
fuck you so deep and slow, that all of New York City will hear you
call my name when you come undone.”

That’s all it takes.
Those words. Those dirty, sexy words he whispers to me, for me, about
me, and I am lost in this haze of desire he’s unleashed in my body,
as an orgasm careens through me, and I shudder violently against his
hand. I’m about to scream, when he clasps his hand over my mouth to
muffle my sounds.

“You feel that?” He
demands as the waves of pleasure slowly start to fade away. I manage
a weak nod, because I am awash in the fog.

“This is only the
beginning, Jill.”

Then he lets go of my
wrists and I fall into his arms. He catches me, spins me so I’m
facing him, then kisses me softly on the forehead. “Do you have any
idea how much I love making you come?”

“I think I have a
clue,” I say, with a happy, woozy smile.

“It is my favorite
thing in the world. I love how fearless you are. I love how much you
want it. I love the way you let go when I touch you,” he says,
returning to a tender voice, his lover’s voice that melts me even
more for him.

“You should know by
now I love everything about the way you touch me,” I say, as I loop
my arms around him.

“I love the sounds
you make, how you smell, the way your body responds to me, and, most
of all, how you give yourself over to me. But the reason I love all
that is because I’m so fucking crazy about you.” Then he stops,
takes a beat, and becomes more serious. “Jill, what am I going to
do with you?”

“I thought you just
told me what you were going to do with me,” I tease as I lay my
head against his strong chest, and adjust my dress.

He cups my chin, so I
have to look up at him.

“No. Not that. What
am I going to do about the fact that I’m not just falling for you,”
he says and his eyes never stray from mine. They hold me tight, and I
can’t look away, nor do I want to. “I am so completely in love
with you that I can’t imagine ever being without you.”

Time stops in a second,
and then it unwinds in a flash. Six years unspool behind me, and my
blood goes cold. It’s as if the floor is falling out from under me,
and I’m tumbling into the past, the past I’ve tried to break free
of. Those same words Aaron said to me. His last words. I’m barely
even here anymore. I’ve been kicked back in time to the moment when
I stopped feeling.

Davis presses a finger
to my lips. “I have to go back out there. Wait for me. I’ll have
the car meet us at the front in ten minutes and you’ll come home
with me, okay?”

I nod, mutely, unable
to speak, to move.

Because I don’t want
to be loved like that. I don’t want to be loved madly, deeply, and
most of all, I don’t want to be loved without reason.

Because I know the
outcome.

I know the end, and I’m
starting to shut down already.

He presses another kiss
against my forehead but I’m numb, blindsided by his words. The
exact same things Aaron said before he killed himself.

Over me.

Davis

She is nowhere to be
seen. She’s not waiting in the hallway. She’s not in the Terrace
Room, and I don’t see her in the Palm Court. I bump into Shelby as
she’s heading back inside.

“Shelby, have you
seen Jill?”

“She ran out of here
five minutes ago. She said she had a horrible headache and had to go.
And she asked me to let you know for some reason,” Shelby says,
then shrugs as if she’s not entirely sure why Jill would want to
pass that message onto me.

“Thanks for letting
me know,” I say, wishing my heart weren’t beating fast with
worry. But I already know Jill’s done it. The thing she said she
wouldn’t do.
Run.

Shelby returns to the
Terrace Room, and I’m alone in the hall briefly and I clench my
fists then push my hand roughly through my hair.

“Fuck,” I say under
my breath, and turn toward the wall, wishing it were a punching bag
and I could slam it several times. I should have known better. I
should have known it would be too soon for her. That she’d need to
take it slow. But hell, I thought she was right there with me. I
could have sworn she was feeling the same things. She nearly said as
much when we danced. I grab my phone from my pocket, but as I’m
about to call her, I spot my sister walking toward me, her head
cocked to the side in question. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I answer
gruffly. I don’t want to get it into with her, given how she tried
to stage her intervention earlier.

She tilts her head to
the side, her eyes demanding an answer.

“She left, okay?” I
admit because Michele would pry it out of me soon enough.

“She left?” Her
voice wavers.

“Yes. And would you
like to tell me why you told her to stay away?”

Now she’s steely
again as she places a hand on my arm. “You know why, and I don’t
regret it.”

I shrug off her hand,
and stare hard into her eyes. “What. Did. You. Tell. Her?”

Her lips are pressed
together, her jaw is set. She is the most determined person I’ve
ever met. “I told her not to play with your heart,” she says with
a fierce protectiveness.

“And what exactly
does that mean?” My entire body is tense, bracing for words I’m
sure I don’t want to hear. “You need to tell me exactly what you
said.”

She sighs heavily, as
if this pains her as much as it pains me. “I told her if she wasn’t
serious about you that she should leave. That if she was making some
kind of career move or using you that she should get out,” she
tells me, and it feels as if she reached her hands into my chest and
grabbed my heart, and is squeezing it. I can’t breathe. There’s a
vise around me.

I drop my face into my
hands, shaking my head over and over. “No. That’s not what you
said. Please tell me that’s not what you said.”

She wraps her arms
around me, and whispers in a soft, caring voice. “I’m so sorry.”

But she’s not sorry
for what she said. She’s sorry for me. And she should be, because
she was right. She was right when she warned me at our dinner.
Because this is Madeline all over again.

I knew better. I
fucking knew how this would end, and I did it anyway, against all my
better judgement. I took a chance and chucked all my rules for Jill.
And for what? To have her turn out to be like the last actress I fell
for. Damn all the fucking actresses in the world who love playing
pretend more than anything. Who put their careers first. Who move
onto the next job without even looking behind at the people they
discard.

I thought Jill was
different, but really that was a stupid hope, because she did exactly
what my sister asked her to do.

Leave if she didn’t
feel the same.

I hate that I’m
standing here in this hotel with my sister hugging me, while the
woman who doesn’t love me enough is gone. I hate everything about
this and I can’t stand to be here another second.

“I need to go.”

“I’m coming with
you,” Michele says.

And that seems fitting.
It’s been the two of us for the longest time, and we have to look
out for each other. Because no one else will.

I turn off my phone on
the way to car. She’s not going to call anyway, so there’s no
point in leaving it on. The driver holds open the door and Michele
slides in first. I follow, wishing my sister weren’t the woman
joining me as the driver pulls out into the late night traffic by the
hotel.

I groan and bang my
head several times against the back of the seat as I bite off a
string of curse words. “This wasn’t how this evening was supposed
to go,” I mutter, loosening my bow tie as we drive down Fifth
Avenue.

Michele rubs her hand
gently along my arm. “I know. But this is for the best. You know
that, right?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“It’s better that
it ended now than later,” she continues, and I’m reminded of why
she’s good at her job as a shrink, because she knows what to say.
She knows what people need.

“I know,” I say
with a heavy sigh.

“Why don’t we go
somewhere and get a drink?”

“I cannot think of a
better thing to do right now. I need a whole fucking bottle, in
fact.”

“Then a bottle it
is.” She leans forward and gives the driver the address of a bar a
few blocks away. Then to me, “Good thing I know all the best places
in Manhattan for drinking and eating. This is the perfect spot to
forget about a girl. Want me to call Clay to join us?”