Riptide Affair, page 10
“Of course not.” Her eyes narrow, and although there's still a playful lightness to her words, her face tells me I'm in trouble.
“Seriously. I love women.” I cringe, fighting the urge to stab myself in the ear with my damn fork. This isn't coming out right. At. All. “I mean I respect women. All women.”
She takes a drink. “I'll bet you do, Piggy.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Jesus. Either she has the driest, most outrageous sense of humor I've ever seen, or this night is tanking fast.
“Jared?”
I freeze, scared of setting another toe out of line. The last place I want to end up tonight is next to my brother watching a bunch of old guys whack at a ball while the woman of my dreams deletes my number from her phone.
“Yeah?”
She leans back in her chair, a smirk painted on those beautiful lips I've been aching to kiss.
“Relax. I'm fucking with you.”
I slump over in relief. “Oh thank God.”
Thank God...because I'd rather kick off my shoes and walk a mile across broken beer bottles than fuck this up.
CHAPTER TEN
Merrin
After dinner, Jared helps me clear the table and load our plates into the dishwasher. It's a little strange since I've been living alone for so long and have a certain way I like things done, but just having another presence in the house is calming. Or maybe that calm is courtesy of Jared. There's something about a guy humming an old country song as he rinses dishes at a woman's sink, and that something is about to thoroughly break through all my defenses and shatter any hope I had of taking this budding relationship at a safe, steady pace.
I've done safe before and where has that delivered me?
Nowhereville, USA.
I'm thirty-one-years old. It's time to shake shit up. I'm done taking the easy way out. I'm done hiding behind walls that put Alcatraz security to shame. Because what's the point? Life's too short for hesitancy and cowardice. Jared is here right now, standing at my side, so close our bare arms brush together every time we shift, and that simple, innocent touch is doing wicked things to my body.
“Thanks for dinner.” Jared smiles politely as he dries his hands on my favorite Pioneer Woman dishtowel.
“You're welcome.”
I swallow down the words that want to come out so badly. Words like, “Why don't we move this to the couch?” Or, “How about I give you the grand tour? We can start in my bedroom.” Or easier, point-blank and direct words, like, “Kiss me,” and “Stay.”
It's that last one that forces me to take a beat and reassess what's happening between us. Asking Jared to slip into darkness with me and wrap me in arms I'm certain could keep me safe and content forever is maddeningly dangerous. This is only a second date. Leaping into bed with him is one thing, but hoping he becomes a permanent fixture in my life is entirely different. Forming a relationship takes time and hard work. It takes loyalty and dedication and honesty and those are all things that are impossible to unearth within a matter of hours...right?
“What's going on up there?” Jared asks, playfully tapping a finger to my temple. “You look like you're trying to solve world hunger.”
Not world hunger.
Just mine.
I'm selfish like that.
And it's about damn time. I serve people every day. I tend to other people's needs. I help Laura with her taxes because she doesn't understand deductions, and I clean Kate's house when she gets stuck working three doubles in a row, and I water Harper's voodoo lily when she goes out of town. When was the last time I did something for me, just because I wanted to? Not because it needed to be done, but for my own selfish pleasure?
I can't recall...and that is downright pathetic. My entire adult life has been pathetic, and that ends right now.
Without overthinking it, without analyzing everything that could possibly go wrong and making a list of all the pros and cons, I do something I've wanted to do ever since I opened my front door and laid eyes on Jared Sullivan.
I reach for him.
He must be in the same reckless, needy head space I am, because before my hand finishes clamping around the back of his neck, he reaches for me too. Our bodies press together the same time our lips meet and he bows over me, his tall frame leaving me in a shadow that does nothing to tame the heat spreading across my skin as he cradles my head like I'm something precious.
Jared's lips taste of tart lemonade, herbs from my garden, and a heat that spells trouble with a capital T.
Trouble.
I am in so, so much trouble.
Shutting out the rest of the world and all its problems, I blindly smooth hands across wide shoulders, dipping fingers beneath the collar of a cotton shirt, exploring skin that's just as feverish as my own.
Fires blaze everywhere we touch, and soon he's digging rough, calloused fingers into my hips, stepping in close, trapping me between my beloved marble counter tops and his firm arousal. All the while, he kisses me like a man starved for physical connection, brutal and hungry, so different from the playfully reserved man I just had dinner with. When I gasp in a much-needed breath, he takes it as the opening it's meant to be by sliding his tongue into my mouth and everything escalates. Everything heats. Everything tingles.
Rough hands hoist me up onto the counter by my waist, and I yelp in surprise. Not only from his seemingly effortless manhandling, but also because of the super yummy vibration of the dishwasher under my bottom, which instantly amps up the extreme desire I'm drowning in and makes it almost unbearable to be in my own skin.
“Jared.” His name is a ragged moan as he begins kissing his way down the column of my throat, trailing his tongue over all my most sensitive spots. He knows exactly how to push my buttons so my lungs won't cooperate and my brain misfires. “I want you.”
“I'm all yours.” He stops his sweet assault on my neck and pulls away. I'm on the verge of begging when he looks down at me and I see his pupils are so dilated they look like twin planets floating through the cosmos. “Lift,” he commands.
Planting my hands on the cool counter, I do as he says without question, and in two swift moves, he has my dress shoved up to my waist and my panties wadded up on the floor. It's the most exposed I've ever been, and still...I don't want him to stop. I forbid it. Even when I sit back and cold granite shocks my bared parts, the sensation only takes me higher.
He lays a reverent kiss on my shoulder as his hooded eyes rake over me. “Beautiful,” he whispers. “Fucking beautiful.”
Yes. Fucking. When are we getting to that?
My fingers fumble with his belt buckle, beyond ready to feel him, ready to guide him into me like I've done this before, when the truth is I don't have the faintest clue as to what I'm doing, but Jared captures my wrists and tugs them up high, pressing them against his shoulders.
“Hands here.”
I don't want to be turned on by the subtle order—because what does that say about me as an intelligent, independent woman?—but I am. Wildly so. No doubt about it.
Lips smash to mine and the next thing I know Jared's sliding a finger into my wet heat and—holy shit—I'm wound so tight I almost come on the spot. His middle finger pushes in hard, massaging my inner walls, before pulling out slowly. Another pump of his finger and a twist of his wrist and my entire body tenses against the building pressure. Again and again he does this, pulling incoherent mewls from my mouth, wringing sparks of pleasure from me with every torturous curl of his finger.
“That—that feels really good.”
It's a stupid, nonsensical, Thank-You-Captain-Obvious thing to say, but it brings a devious smile to Jared's lips and he pulls back to look me in the eyes.
“Yeah?” he breathes against my mouth.
I nod like a moron. “Yeah.”
“How about this?”
Jared sinks to his knees, positioning himself between my spread thighs, and even though I know what he's about to do and it's not something I've ever experienced, I'm not embarrassed. He opens his mouth and a warm exhale fans out across my thighs. It feels so erotic, I roll my head back and close my eyes, lightheaded and so turned on it's a surprise I'm still upright.
“No,” Jared says softly, causing my eyes to whip back to his face. One side of his mouth is curled into a smirk as he shakes his head from side to side. “Eyes open.”
“Oh—okay.”
His darkened gaze never leaves mine as he leans in, pushes his tongue inside me, and moans.
“Holy—fucking hell—ohmygod!”
The heat of the intimate act, paired with the vibration coming at me from two different angles, short-circuits my brain completely. I tremble so violently, my butt scoots closer to the edge of the counter, so near toppling over the edge that I tense, bracing for a fall, but Jared is right there, gripping my thigh with a firm hand, still working me over with a tongue that should be outlawed.
He pauses to kiss the inside of my thigh. “You like that?”
I nod, staring down at his wicked grin, unable to form words.
His dark eyes disappear again and the rough heat of his tongue flicks against my clit so fast I can't catch my breath. Breathing is a thing of the past as I search the counter for traction, nails scraping against cool granite as my hips buck against the immense pleasure of Jared licking and sucking and moaning into me like I'm the most exquisite thing he's ever tasted.
“Jared...”
He moans in reply, loud and long, his deep voice shaking through me like an earthquake, and I lose a piece of myself. The last scrap of rational thought leaves me and I bolt upright, rip my dress over my head, and let it drop. It was too hot. Too constricting. I need him everywhere. Across every surface of my skin. Lips and hands and chest pressed against me until we're just a tangle of desire.
Jared guides both trembling thighs over his shoulders, wedging his head between my legs as he draws quick circles around my clit. The subtle shift does wonders for our connection and I can't help but squeeze my legs shut, trapping him right there where I need him most.
“Yes,” I hiss, grabbing a fistful of hair and bucking against his mouth. “God, yes.”
I don't know who this woman is right now, but she's not me. Every inhibition I've ever had is gone. Hell, I'm gone. Especially when his hands travel up my body to cradle my breasts, squeezing and kneading hard as his thumbs flick over tightened nipples.
It's more than I can handle.
“Jared, please.”
My knees open, releasing his head, and he stares up the length of my body, arousal glistening on his chin—my arousal. Dragging in a well-earned breath, he speaks. “Please what, Merrin?”
He knows exactly what I'm asking. He just wants to hear me say it.
“Take me...to bed...” I pant, weaving a hand through his hair, tugging hard enough he knows I mean business. “Now.”
He stands to his full height, but when I move to join him, he stills me with hands on my waist and lips peppering kisses to my collarbone. “And what if I don't want to take you to bed?” he asks. “What if I'm happy right here? What if this is all I want?”
He may be speaking English, but that doesn't mean I understand what he's saying. This is great, but I need more. I need it all. Fireworks. Detonation. The explosion everyone talks about. I deserve my own grand finale, dammit!
“You don't want more?” I ask dumbly. “Because I—I'm ready.”
His chuckle ruffles my already disheveled hair. “I know you are.” He bows down to suck at my neck, making my eyes cross, then moves higher to whisper in my ear. “And I want more, too. A hell of a lot more.”
Fighting for breath, I pull back to look him in the eyes. “Then take it,” I all but beg. “Right now.”
Shimmying closer, I'm just about to rip his shirt down the center when he plunges two thick fingers inside me, stealing my breath.
“I want more than a fling,” he growls, mouth pressed against the side of my head. His words come out rough, strained from exertion. He's pumping in and out so fast, I can't keep up. All I can do is sit back and let pleasure reign supreme. “More than this,” he continues. “More than a quick fuck with a stranger I met in an elevator.”
Before I can wrap my brain around what he's saying, Jared drops his head and pulls one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, lighting me up with a bolt of pure, undiluted ecstasy, making every jumbled thought in my head sound nonsensical—like I'm stark raving mad, driven crazy by the talent of one man's mouth.
“You want...you want more?” I pant, trying to catch up.
“More,” he says, flicking my nipple with his tongue as large hands singe their prints into my naked back. “More of all of you. More than just meaningless sex.”
My eyes fly open wide and I freeze, staring down at Jared's shock of dark hair.
I'm sorry...what?
Meaningless what now?
Now I really can't breathe.
I wasn't aware that's what we were doing here, and furthermore, I'm pissed he thought that's what I was after. Yes, I was the one that came on to him in the elevator. And yes, I was the one who urged him to take action and all but rubbed up against him like a cat in heat, but in all the time we've spent together outside that godforsaken elevator, I have never, not once, given him any sign that this is just physical desire on my part.
Grabbing a fistful of hair, I tug him upward, making damn sure his eyes are on mine when I speak. “This isn't just sex for me, Jared, and it sure as hell isn't meaningless.”
He nods severely, just as starved for oxygen as I am. “Good. Because I'm not just here to get my dick wet.”
“I never said you were,” I fire back.
“Good.”
“Good,” I mimic.
He quirks a single brow. “So we're on the same page?”
I slip my fingers into the waistband of his jeans, toying with the ridge of muscle on either side of his dick. “Meaningful sex...yes. Same page.”
His lips flatten into a hard line as he shakes his head, causing my heart to plummet. “Mer...I'm not taking you to bed.”
Ouch.
No meaningless sex. No meaningful sex.
No sex at all.
Guess I really am that resistible.
My rampant libido is climbing the walls right now when what she really wants is to climb Jared. No matter who you are or what you've done, rejection sucks, but rejection in the heat of the moment? Laid bare on a counter top with a potential partner nuzzled between your thighs? That's a whole new level of suck, even for me.
“Okay...” I force myself to remain calm. “May I ask why?”
Jared hauls me off the counter into his arms and I squeal but hang on tight. A second later my butt meets a smooth, wooden surface.
“Because there's a perfectly good table right here.”
A warm hand presses between my naked breasts, and Jared pushes just the slightest bit until I lie all the way back. Sprawled out across the space where we just shared an innocent dinner, I'm twelve different kinds of turned on as I watch Jared pull his shirt off, revealing a set of abs that make me bite my lip. He's more chiseled than I realized, and I try not to let the sight of all that Adonis-like perfection make me and my soft cushioning feel less than.
The sound of his zipper being pulled down splits through the air, and I know—I fucking know—there's something I need to say. Right now. A confession. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but they get shoved aside the moment Jared pushes his jeans down over his hips and takes his hard dick in hand.
Have mercy...
Everything about this man is big—from his smile to his muscles to his character—so I shouldn't be surprised, and yet here I am...staring at his long, thick appendage like it's the Holy Grail of penises.
Light glints off the foil packet in Jared's hand and I move my attention to his teeth as they rip the square in half. I'm pleased he had the forethought to bring protection, but at the same time, presumptuous much?
When his eyes meet mine again, I quirk a brow. “Thought you were getting lucky tonight?”
“No, ma'am.” His eyes heat even as his grin turns playful. “I'm always prepared. Like a damn boy scout.”
Bullshit. There's nothing boyish about Jared.
My hips roll forward in want as he rolls on the condom and I watch in rapt suspense as he steps between my legs, pausing to slide a hand up my inner thigh in a gentle caress.
“You're beautiful,” he whispers, eyes set at half mass.
Tell him.
Jared is just so damn perfect...he's doing everything right.
Speak, woman!
The way his eyes rove over my exposed body, appreciating all my slight imperfections, steals my voice completely. I don't want to ruin this moment.
“Hold on.”
Those two words have my hands flying out to grip the edge of the table, because if I've learned anything from my time with Jared, it's to listen. Listen and trust. Exactly the way I did in the elevator.
He grips the base of his shaft confidently, sliding the tip along my center, up and down, until he pushes just the head through my lips. Eyes squeezed shut, I revel in the way he eases inside, hot and hard, stretching me, redirecting the fire in my cells until they're all congregated at my core. When I feel the resistance my body puts up, I stop breathing.
And so does Jared.
His previously greedy hands jerk away from my body so fast you'd think my skin was electrified and I just singed his fingerprints right the hell off. My eyes pop open and there he is above me, hands plunged deep into his already disheveled hair, eyes closed.
“Merrin,” he whispers, shaking his head. “Quick question...”
He starts to pull away, but I don't let him. I cross my ankles behind his ass and lock those suckers in place.
“Don't,” I snap, not recognizing the needy, breathless way the word comes out. “Don't stop.”
Blue eyes bore into mine, shining with an emotion I can't place, but whatever he's thinking right now...he's wrong. I haven't been saving myself. And I'm not trying to discard something precious.
