Secretly Craving You (6 page)

Prickly-hot moisture rushed through her pussy and toward his hand. She couldn't be near him without getting turned on. That's the way it had always been. But now that sensation was magnified a thousand times. She'd never felt anything like it.

His finger slid between her sex lips and across her clit. Gasping at the blinding flash of need, she felt paralyzed and unable to breathe, clearly some instinctive malfunction that held her enthralled while a prime alpha male could do his worst. Or best.

"Damn, you're drenched." He slid two fingers through her moisture. "Spread your legs a little," he whispered.

No, I don't want to!
Yes, she did. Who could resist the indulgence of being stroked by those gifted fingers? Not her. She lifted her top leg.

"Yeah." Two of his fingers slid along her swollen sex lips toward her opening, then dipped inside. "You feel so good, Emily," he growled.

Arousal pounded through her body like a loud, erotic, hard-rock song. Her back arched and her ass rubbed against his rigid cock. What would it feel like driving into her? She could just imagine how the flared head would stimulate her.

She squirmed, annoyed at the clothes and sheets between them. Moaning, she craved his bare, heated skin stroking over hers. He felt so sexy, with his rough, almost harsh masculinity, she wanted to attack him. She yearned to be pinned under him, at his mercy, while he drove his luscious, hard cock relentlessly into her. The pleasure would be overwhelming.

Though it had been years, she'd seen his erection and knew it was long and thick. She didn't know if she could handle him, but she wanted to try.

"Nick?"

"Yeah." He pulled one of her legs back over his, widening them further, then cupped a palm possessively over her mound. "You're so damned hot, Em," he whispered.

"Mmm." She found her hand entangled in his hair behind her head. She wanted to drag him closer. She wanted to climb on him and ride him.

His wet fingers circled her clit, round and round, hypnotizing and so stimulating all she could do was grind her ass against his cock. He drew forth erotic sensations so powerful she thought she might beg him for sex.

He slid one finger inside, then slowly drew it in and out.

She cried out at the amazing sensations. Oh, why couldn't that be his cock? "Please," she gasped.

He moaned in her ear. "You feel good, Em. Wet, hot, tight."

Her hips moved, thrusting and riding his finger.

"Mmm. More," she begged.

His finger inside her felt larger, then she realized he'd inserted two. He slid them in and out, her moisture making everything incredibly slick. That gentle stretching sensation made her imagine his cock. Sudden tingles spiraled through her, taunting her with orgasm. The feeling hovered as if waiting for him.

"Oh my god," she gasped, arching further.

"Yeah, that's good. Come for me," he urged, his breath burning against her ear.

His thrusting finger movements made her crave something much larger. His cock would feel divine right now. She moaned, widening her legs for him.

He circled her swollen clit again, then plunged his fingers deep to stroke and tease her G-spot. "Oh hell, yeah," he whispered, his insistent tone matching his relentless and erotic finger movements.

An orgasm smashed into her, the overwhelming pleasure engulfing her, sucking her under and drowning her in a sea of delicious sensations. Her body bucked against him but he held her tightly in place, forcing her to endure every last ounce of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. She had never experienced such a powerful orgasm. And to think, Nick had caused it so quickly with only his fingers. What kind of massive orgasm would his cock give her?

As the exhilaration ebbed, she craved more. It couldn't end so soon. Reaching a hand back, she encountered a sheet between her and his erection. He was hard as marble. Needing him now, she squeezed his cock.

"Hell," he muttered, along with a string of curses, and shoved himself from the bed. A moment later the bathroom door slammed.

A shock went through her, yanking her from the languid, orgasm-induced euphoria. What just happened? She hadn't even caught her breath from the best orgasm of her life, and he didn't want to follow the next logical step. What was going on with him?

Not that she thought it was the smartest thing to have a fling with her ex's brother. No, that would be stupid. He was a womanizer exactly like Jared. Probably worse. She should be grateful he'd left her lying in bed alone. But she wasn't.

She felt thoroughly rejected.

* * * *

Nick turned on the shower and stepped under the cold spray. The icy water chilled his overheated skin. Hell, he had to do something before he fucked Emily senseless. He'd thought he could control himself better than that, but he'd come close to yanking the sheet aside and sliding between her legs. Was he insane? He couldn't have his brother's ex-wife. What kind of ass would that make him?

Besides, he was supposed to be guarding and protecting her. If he got involved with her, he'd lose his edge and his objectivity, putting both their lives in danger.

Still, his erection didn't diminish. Apparently his libido didn't give a damn about danger or threats.

He took his rigid, yearning cock in his hand and squeezed.
Ahh.
Pleasure and longing ricocheted through him.

"Damn," he muttered. When had he ever been this hard? And when had he ever wanted a woman as badly as he wanted Emily?

Never.

He lathered his cock with soap and stroked it, imagining his hand was Emily's tight pussy. He needed her so bad he could hardly breathe right now. She'd been so turned on she might have agreed to sex, but he couldn't do it. It would be a betrayal of Jared. If his brother were alive, he wouldn't want Nick having sex with Emily. Brothers didn't betray each other like that.

His cock didn't care about things like honor and loyalty.

Remembering how he'd touched Emily minutes ago in bed and how she came so beautifully in his arms, Nick stifled a groan and stroked his cock. She was so snug, he'd barely been able to fit two fingers inside her. She'd felt amazing—slick, swollen, and so responsive she'd had an orgasm only a couple of minutes after he'd first touched her.

How he'd love it if she was here in the shower with him. He'd lift her, wrap her legs around his waist and take her against the tile wall. She was the only woman he'd wanted or fantasized about for the past three years. He didn't know what the hell was wrong with him, but he couldn't get her out of his head.

He stroked himself faster. Damn, she would feel so amazing, her sweet, tight pussy squeezing the head of his cock, just as it had clutched at his fingers moments ago. So wet and steamy. She'd moan his name and beg him to go faster. An orgasm rushed through him. The pleasure and intensity made him stagger back against the cold tile wall and sag there in the cool spray until his strength and breath returned.

What the hell was he going to do about her?

Pushing himself away from the wall and turning the water to warm, he washed himself all over, trying to figure out what he would say to her. He was never at a loss for words around a woman, so why was he now?

Before her, he'd never wanted a woman he couldn't have. Of course, he could have her, but what would that make him? What would he be doing to Jared's memory?

Nick couldn't be that much of a bastard.

He might bend the rules to get the job done, but he didn't like compromising his own principals. Brothers and friends had a code of honor—they didn't screw each other's women. At least, that's the way it used to be.

At any rate, if Jared were alive and knew how badly Nick wanted Emily, he'd probably never speak to him again, despite the divorce, despite everything. He had to honor the memory of his brother. He couldn't touch Emily again.

But how the hell could he resist her?

"Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?" Nick asked, steering the rental sedan into the left lane on Georgia's I-16 to pass a slow-moving truck. Pine trees passed in a blur on either side of the road.

Her heart leaping into her throat, Emily glanced aside at him. Did he have to bring that up? She wasn't proud that she'd melted at the touch of his hands that morning in the hotel bed. But at the time, she'd been unable to stop him…and unable to stop herself from enjoying how his hands had sensually stroked over her body, how his skilled fingers had teased and tormented her beyond bearing, playing into the erotic fantasies she'd had for three years.

"That's kind of an odd expression since we're in a car and there are no elephants for miles." Emily hoped to change the subject to anything else.

Nick held back a grin, but she saw it in his eyes. "You know what I mean."

His playful, mischievous expression made her heart race with excitement. Why did he have to be so gorgeous and tempting?

"I'd rather we didn't." She forced herself to stare out the car's side window at the passing pines, hoping he'd drop the subject. Talking about this morning's incident would only arouse her again. And she didn't want to be aroused, dammit. Besides, he'd rejected her. What was he trying to do now, rub it in?

All through breakfast back at the hotel earlier that morning, in between wolfing down his bacon, eggs and a stack of pancakes, he'd sent a few potent glances her way, as if he was still thinking about the erotic episode. Her stomach had knotted so badly she could hardly eat a bite. Obviously, he'd been trying not to look at her, so when he did it was like triple the intensity.

Her body still burned from his hands stroking her all over. Earlier, she'd taken a hot shower to try to erase the memory of his touch. But she couldn't. It was almost as if he was branded into her skin.

His fingers lightly gripping the steering wheel now as he drove caught her attention. He had big strong hands, and beautiful forearms with a light sprinkling of blondish-brown hair. And his muscular, tattooed biceps made her fingers itch with the need to stroke them. Why did she find his arms so sexy? Who was she kidding? Nick was a total sex package. Everything about him looked delectable.

"Don't worry about it, okay? It was no big deal." His tone was casual, relaxed.

"No big deal?" Of course, the most extraordinary orgasm of her life was no big deal to him. It was only a few strokes of his fingers, after all. He had no clue about the powerful sensations he'd propelled through her or how close she'd been to begging him to slide his gorgeous cock deep inside her. She almost moaned imagining how amazing that would feel.

"You want it to be a big deal?" he asked, lifting a brow and glancing at her curiously.

"No. No, of course not."
Wizen up, Emily, and stop sending him mixed signals. And most of all, stop thinking about his cock.

She couldn't get involved with him for many reasons. One, he likely went through women like he did boxes of condoms. Two, he was too much like Jared. She definitely didn't want a repeat of that disastrous relationship. Sullivans sucked at commitment.

Why was she thinking of commitment anyway? If she were to have anything with him it would only be a quick fling. Fierce sex against the wall or on a counter. He'd have forgotten her by the next day.

She could go for the fierce sex, but she didn't want to be forgotten.

"Okay," he said, glancing into the rearview. "I don't want you to worry about it. I won't tell anyone. And I won't do it again." He paused. "Hell, that's a lie. I'll try my damnedest not to do it again."

Heat rushed over her. Did he have to be so honest? Did that mean he wanted to do it again? Hope and renewed excitement surged through her. Her heart palpitated. Her crotch grew wet and tingly, craving the stroke of his indulgent fingers. Or his impressive cock.

Stupid! I'm just being stupid, eating up his bad boy charm.

That morning in bed, he'd gotten up and walked away from her, proving he could easily resist her. Clearly, she couldn't resist him. She'd exploded within seconds. Now, he probably thought she was slutty. But that wasn't the case at all. She hadn't had sex in so long she'd practically forgotten what it felt like. If anything, she was pathetically deprived. Sure, she had a vibrator, but that cold piece of plastic could never measure up to a hot, flesh-and-blood man like Nick, and she'd only used the toy once.

Nick had been so unbelievably hard this morning. Because of her? Or did he simply have morning-wood every day when he woke up? Probably the later; he was an oversexed horn-dog. At least he'd proved he could control himself, much to her embarrassment.

"You never told me how you ended up in bed with me," she said.

He shrugged and kept his eyes on the road. "I needed some sleep. The sofa was too short. I thought if I slept on the bed, I'd wake up before you and slip away without you even knowing it."

Was he being honest? She'd known he would need some sleep. And she'd even offered him the whole bed. He'd refused, then changed his mind later.

"It didn't quite work out that way," she said.

He smirked. "No. When I woke up, you were
right there
."

"Is that so? Well, for your information, you were the one who was
right there
, mister, on my side. You slid over next to me," she accused.

"Maybe I got cold. Or…" He grinned, flicking a wicked glance her way. "Maybe my subconscious mind knew what I wanted."

He wanted her? So, why did he abandon her in bed? A blush seared her skin, head to toe. She refused to ask that burning question. Really, it wouldn't have been to her benefit to have more than he gave her. Who knew if he even had a condom?

"Well, I don't know what came over me," she said. "I don't normally do things like that."

"I know."

"You do? How?"

He shrugged again. Clearly that action was a big part of his communication skills. "Going by what I know about you. You don't strike me as a nympho slut."

She smacked his arm. Okay, maybe it was simply an excuse to touch his muscular, tattooed biceps.

"I meant that as a compliment." He had a playful way of glaring and grinning at the same time that made her want to smile. But she didn't. Instead, she huffed and stared out the window again.

"You want to be a nympho slut?" he inquired.

"No! But I'm not a prude either." Like Jared had labeled her. He'd called her vanilla in bed, which was one reason she'd experimented with a sex toy after the divorce. "I'm a woman with a normal, healthy sexual appetite."

"Ah hell," he muttered and scrubbed a hand against his beard stubble.

"What?" She'd give a twenty-dollar bill to know what he was thinking right now.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

But clearly he was lying. Maybe he was mulling over her healthy sexual appetite.

"I've never thought you were a prude. You're a hell of a sexy woman." Nick's words and his husky tone sent a flush of arousal over her, making her remember her scorching response to him in bed.

"You wouldn't have said that before this morning."

"Yeah, I would have." He sent her a dark, smoldering glance, but it was the sincerity she saw there that stole her breath. "What can I say? You're hot as hell. And I've thought you were from the first moment I met you."

Oh my god.
How could he say such a thing? Her sweltering blush returned, intensified and her body flushed with arousal. "Oh. Well, thank you."

"You're welcome."

He was hot, too, but she couldn't tell him that. This couldn't turn into a mutual admiration society, or he might pull onto the shoulder and they'd get it on right there. She craved another kiss from him, yearned for the taste of him and the way his lips and tongue had taunted hers.

Her arousal escalated, making her body tingle and ache. She felt like using some of his frustrated curse words.

What he'd said about the first time they'd met brought back memories of the night she'd seen him nude, having sex with another woman. Emily would die of mortification if he ever learned she'd been watching like a naughty voyeur from behind the closet door. She hadn't been able to pull her gaze away from the delectable sight of him—his muscular chest and abs, when he'd stripped off his jacket and shirt. After he removed the kilt, his impressive cock had been jutting out while the bridesmaid licked it like an ice cream cone.

Naked, he'd been so primal and all-male she couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't look away. Definitely a human animal…one she craved with every instinctive urge inside her.

Emily's cell phone rang, the contemporary love song startling her out of her erotic memories. Her hands unsteady, she yanked the phone from her purse. The display told her it was Tia, her friend and business partner.

After tapping the screen, she placed it against her ear. "Hello, Tia."

"Where are you?"

"About halfway between Atlanta and Savannah." Emily went on to tell Tia about the nut-job who broke into her house and threatened her and how she went to Atlanta to ask for Nick's help. Her stomach ached as she remembered all the terrifying events.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" Tia asked.

"Yes. Nick's a cop and he's been a great help to me."

"I'm glad he's protecting you. I remember Nick from your wedding. The best man, right?"

"Yeah."

"Is he still edible?"

Emily glanced aside at Nick, taking in his broad shoulders stretching the white T-shirt. She wished she could lift it and check out his chiseled abs. Something else caught her attention—the package evident in the crotch of his jeans and his muscular thighs filling out the legs of his jeans nicely.
Oh yeah.
"Kinda."

"He's listening to you, isn't he?" Tia guessed.

Emily lifted her gaze to find him flicking a smoky-hot, yet enigmatic, glance at her. She quickly turned toward the window. "Yes."

"I'll drop by your house later this evening."

Why would Tia want to do that, to check out Nick? Not that Emily would be jealous or anything. She certainly didn't have her sights set on him.

So what if her conscience condemned her as a horrid liar?

"I want to bring you something," Tia went on.

"Okay. Hmm, I wonder what it could be?"

"It's a surprise. Something you like."

"Well, thanks for thinking of me. And please don't tell anyone what's been going on. I don't want them to worry, and we don't know who's responsible yet."

"I won't. And I'm glad Nick will be there to protect you," Tia said in a suggestive voice.

"So am I." But Emily also wondered what else he would do to her besides protect her.

* * * *

The killer had said he'd call back today, Emily remembered when she glanced at her kitchen phone. Chills covered her skin and nausea surged. Had he already tried to call while she was gone? She didn't know if she could eat the takeout from her favorite Italian restaurant that she and Nick had picked up on the way into Savannah.

As soon as they'd arrived, Nick had searched her house to make sure no one was inside. The board was still nailed over the broken window by the back door.

Her hands unsteady, she served up the salad and lasagna onto white china.