Pursued by the Rogue (The Fairy Tales of New York Book 1) (6 page)

“Take your time,” she murmured. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He seriously thought about playing it her way. And then she put her forefinger to her mouth, the same one that brushed lightly over him, and that was the end of his compliance. He had her against the wall three seconds later as he plundered her mouth, hoping like hell that she wasn’t expecting restraint, because his was gone.

She did this to him. Stripped him of control the way she was stripping him of his clothes and he was fully on board.

Her clothes went too, this was equal opportunity urgency, and then her hands were on him and those gray eyes of hers were heavy-lidded and blown with arousal.

Full body-to-body skin-on-skin came with a gasp and the kind of fully honed hyperawareness he’d only ever experienced when performing. When she ran her nails across his nipples his skin turned to goosebumps and his forearm hit the wall behind her. “More.”

“Because practice makes perfect and all that. Got it,” she whispered and bent her head to his other nipple while she continued to scrape her fingernails over the other one.

Damn, but he loved where her head was at.

Somehow they made it to the shower, warm water coming at them from all over the place and adding yet another layer of sensation to the uncontrollable mix that was him and Dawn.

He wanted to tell her to slow down when she brought his fingers to her center and he found her already slick and swollen but instead he turned her so that her back was to his front, one hand steady on her hip while the other played her with fast strong fingers and his cock found solace against the swell of her ass.

“Lean forward,” he commanded gruffly and she obeyed, one hand braced against the tiles and the other clenched around that fancy spray bar.

He kept the fingers of one hand working as he slid his other hand over the sweet globe of her buttock and between her thighs. When he got to her pussy entrance he slid two fingers in and caught his breath when she cried out and clenched around him.

“Finn.” Her voice held an edge of panic. “I’m close.”

“Wait.” She was so tight and he wasn’t a small man by any means.

She let loose a sob and took her hand from the wall and covered his strumming fingers with hers, forcing them to a halt. “Hurry.”

“Condoms.” They were in his bag. He really hadn’t thought this through.

“Bathroom drawer,” she offered raggedly as he continued to stretch her. “Finn, I’m clean and won’t get pregnant. Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Implant.”

Sex without condoms was something he didn’t do, no matter what assurances a woman gave, but the need to bareback Dawn was overwhelming. “No one else gets this while I’m with you, you hear? Only me.” He withdrew his fingers and used her slick to lubricate his shaft and then set the tip to her entrance, finding his way slowly and inexorably inside. He stilled at the halfway point. “Promise.”

“Promise.”

He gave her the rest and she slapped her hand back to the tile and seconds later she was coming on his cock.

He wasn’t tender as he pulled back and set up a hard and fast rhythm guaranteed to get him joining her within a few strokes. He released his hand from her hip, she wasn’t going anywhere, and tangled it in her damp hair instead, turning her head and upper body to meet his kiss and that was how he came, eyes closed, mouth crushed against hers and his body straining as he spilled his seed as deep as he could get it.

She put her fingers back on her clit again and he took the hint and pushed them aside and started playing and damned if her breath didn’t stutter and hitch and spill into his mouth as she began to contract around him again.

By the time he’d regained his senses they were both leaning against the wall. Dawn had her eyes closed and her cheek to the tiles, her lips a crush of swollen pink and a flush of pink on her cheeks and on her chest.

He gathered her close and held her, just held her as she burrowed into his chest. When he could move he moved her into the spray and picked up the soap and began to wash her back. Urgency replaced by tenderness. A slow movement to follow the glorious rush that had gone before.

“You’re uh …
oh
.” He’d reached the base of her neck and she was soapy enough so he set the soap aside and started to massage her there. “A little more …
there
.” She melted against him, so he brought his other hand into play and ran both thumbs down her back, one either side of her spine. “You have
really
good hands.”

“They’re insured.”

“Good call.” She pushed against his chest, enough that she could raise her head and study him, with a half smile on her face and her eyes still thoroughly sex blown. “You’re a little more commanding than you used to be.”

“New repertoire. Do you like it?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

“I respond very well to positive reinforcement.”

“In that case, I like it a lot. Feel free to play that particular tune anytime.”

“I have other tunes.” He hoped. “Maybe until his fascination with Dawn faded there would be only one tune. Hotly possessive and eternally hungry for more of her. “I didn’t mean to mess with your dinner plans.”

“Dinner’s easy,” she said. “I cheated and bought lasagna and salad from the restaurant on the corner. I should let you wash in peace. That was the plan.”

“Hey, Dawn?” he said as she moved away, seemingly skittish now that dirty deeds had been done. But her eyes lingered and heat flared and he turned full frontal and let her look as he adjusted the spray to land fully on him. “Good shower.”

“I always thought it was a bit dark and austere.”

Not with her in it. The body of her youth had been slim and boyish. This one had more tone, more curves, a grace that she hadn’t had before and her skin glowed alabaster. She’d grown into that face of hers, as he’d always known she would.

She didn’t appear to have the faintest idea how stunning she was.

She reached for a towel and turned back towards him, her gaze catching and holding on the flow of water over his body. “I hadn’t quite appreciated its full potential. Until now.”

He smiled, slow and sure and helped himself to her soap again. “Always happy to help.”

She hummed thoughtfully as she toweled herself off and then tucked the towel around her body. “I should see what you can bring to the bedroom. It’s a minimalist design kind of space too.”

“Yes.” He was one hundred percent sure he could bring chaos and passion to that space as well. “You should.”

*

Twenty minutes later
Dawn found herself sitting on the floor in the living room, sharing a meal and a glass of wine with a man she’d dreamed of for years. They’d bypassed the formal dining table and the breakfast bar for somewhere even more relaxed – the low coffee table in the living room, soft carpet and the lounge at their backs.

She’d tried to stay true to her word when it came to elevator music, but he’d reached for the remote control on her entertainment system and scrolled through her music selection until he found some indie guitar music and set that to playing instead.

“Nice place,” he offered as he kicked back, barefoot and tousle-headed and reached for his food. “Good view.”

She did have a good view – an entire bank of south-facing floor to ceiling windows framed by elaborate iron latticework. She’d gone to some effort to make it cozy out here in the living room. Soft furnishings and rugs, muted woodland colors and textures and the enormous u-shaped lounge that acted as the centerpiece.

She kept a vase full of fresh flowers in this room, always, because in spite of what she’d implied to Finn, she loved bringing the outdoors into a home. This week’s flowers were Australian Waratahs, vivid red and framed against wide leaves of various shades of green. A cleverly directed downlight illuminated them further.

She liked this place. She’d bought it hadn’t she? But this was the only room she’d made much of an impact on. The rest of it stayed stubbornly intimidating. “It needs more stuff in it,” she said. Maybe that’d make it feel more hers.

“How long have you been here?”

“Six months.”

“And before that?”

“New Jersey. We still have research and development facilities there. But management now happens here in Manhattan. As the company grows, there’s bigger need to manage things like global market share and taking on other trading partners and they like to see a show of wealth. Makes them more comfortable when the time comes to do business.”

“You’re not getting any less impressive,” he said. “Are you still involved in the R&D?”

“I oversee, yes. But I don’t get down and dirty in the labs much these days. When I started the company I never imagined that the management elements would become my priority.” She set her half-finished meal aside and picked up her wine. “Live and learn.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I want to build this company as fast as I can in these next three years. I want to work hard and smart. Play hard and fast. And then on my thirtieth birthday I’m going to reassess. Decide whether I need to take some time out to travel, see everything I want to see, experience everything I want to experience.”

He shot her a puzzled glance. “Why at thirty?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she offered awkwardly. “Pick a milestone.” A woman’s biological clock had things to say at thirty. Huntington’s symptoms started to appear when affected people were in their thirties. Clumsiness, nervous tics, short term memory loss. “Where do you see yourself at thirty?”

“Performing still. I’m booked a couple of years in advance when it comes to concert halls and orchestras. When performance requests taper off, I’ll still teach and compose. One thing my profession does is reward maturity.”

“What if you’re forced to stop through illness or injury?”

“That’s end of the world talk.”

“Really?” Take enough function away from a person and so went the will to live. She’d seen it up close and personal. Every time she visited her father she wanted to weep. “You mean life ending?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He shrugged. “Just. I wouldn’t know how to begin to fill that hole in me. Could be I’m too singularly focused. Then again, for what I do I have to be.”

She leaned back against the sofa and studied the play of light through the wine in her glass. “Don’t get hurt or injured, I guess it’s as good an ambition as any. Maybe you need to be more careful where you put your hands.”

“I’m always careful in that regard. Wouldn’t put them anywhere I wouldn’t put my tongue, for example.”

Words that slid in low and hot to pull in places beneath her skin. “You haven’t had your cheesecake yet.”

“Maybe later. Can people see in through those windows?”

“No.”

He smiled and put his food on the table. He took her wine glass and put it on the table too, and then he lifted her up until she was sitting on the sofa and he was kneeling between her legs. He slid his hands beneath the skirt of her dress and urged her thighs wider apart.

“Again, so soon?” she murmured.

“Do you object?” His words whispered along her thighs.

“Not at all.” She liked a man with initiative. “Mind your hands.”

His lips curved on her skin. “Oh, I will.”

*

Finbar slid from
sleep slowly, reluctantly, as was his wont. No waking instantly to full alertness, you could drive a bus to within an inch of him as he slept and he wouldn’t wake up. You could play a tuba six inches from his nose and he’d merely stir. It had been proven. One of his old teachers had said that only in sleep could silence be found and Finn concurred. He needed silence just as much as he needed noise. Two sides of the same coin.

He stretched his back and finally rolled over, hoping to find Dawn still in bed but unsurprised when he didn’t. That last time, the one with him coming halfway down Dawn’s throat after ripping her to climax, had finished them both. She’d threatened to tie him down after that and swear to God his spent dick had twitched at the thought. She’d told him she had three hours left before she had to get up and go to work and she fully intended to spend them asleep.

Finn stretched, closed his eyes again, and listened for the sound of movement but heard nothing but his own breathing, not even the sound of the city outside. Double glazing on those showy windows. Triple glazing maybe. And he lifted his lashes and stared around at her bedroom in the daylight.