A Kept Man (25 page)

Her smile deepened. Perfect.

She didn’t give him a chance to see what she’d retrieved.
She turned around and marched to the bed in two steps. Lifting his
legs with one hand, she swung them up onto the mattress. Before they
had landed, she joined them, throwing her left leg over his prone
form. He stared at her as she straddled him and planted a hand right
in the middle of his chest. “Up,” she ordered, giving him
a push for emphasis.

The wariness was still in his eyes, but he obeyed, using his elbows
to shove himself up the bed. Jess rode him as he moved, keeping her
hips low against his as they shifted. She was gratified with the
telltale stirring she could feel in his crotch. He grew harder with
each sway of her hips, until finally, she ground down against him,
pressing the full weight of her body against the length of him.

He growled low in his throat, never taking his eyes from hers. She
stared back, relishing his reaction, the dilating of his pupils, the
way his eyes glazed over. Finally, she had him where she wanted him.
His head hit the bedframe with a hollow thud. He didn’t even
flinch.

With a teasing smile, she pulled her hand from his chest and reached
forward. Her breasts hovered right above his head. She could feel the
heat of his stare and knew he was looking at her body. Most likely,
he’d give anything to touch her now. Even as she had the
thought, she felt him raise his left hand.

She didn’t give him the chance to touch her. Her hand caught
his mere inches from her breast and jerked his arm upward. He’d
been propped up on his elbows, and her motion knocked him
off-balance. He fell back against the mattress. Surprise radiated
from him, but she didn’t bother to look at his face. She was
only getting started.

“I’m in control here,” she purred. “You don’t
get to touch.”

“That doesn’t sound like much fun for either of us.”

“It does for me.”

As she said it, she opened her left hand, allowing him to see what
she held. The scarves fell from her fingers in a shimmering wave. She
draped one across his chest, then moved to fasten the hand she still
held against the headboard.

“Ouch,” he muttered when she tugged the loop tight
against his wrist. “That’s a little tight, isn’t
it? You’re going to cut off all feeling in my hands.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “I’d say there wasn’t any
blood in them anyway.” She pushed her groin down on his
erection to prove the point.

“No argument there,” he murmured as she made quick work
of his other hand.

When she was done, she leaned back to admire her handiwork. The
bindings were so tight there was no way he could free himself. He was
completely at her mercy. The question was, how merciful did she want
to be?

It was apparently one that occurred to him as well. She heard him
swallow audibly as she pushed herself off of him and stepped off of
the mattress. “Where are you going?”

She glanced back at him, enjoying the sight of him stretched out on
her bed, arms extended above him. The smile she bestowed upon him was
purposely mysterious. “Afraid I’m going to walk out and
leave you like this?”

“I’m not sure I would blame you.”

“I wouldn’t blame me either,” she said, moving back
to the dresser. “But leaving you in my apartment would
inconvenience me more than you. And it wouldn’t come close to
giving me what I want from you.”

“And what’s that?”

Jess finally found what she was looking for and turned back to him. A
dozen condom packets dangled from her left hand.

A pleased grin curved his supple mouth. “Then we’re in
agreement.”

She snorted, tearing the top square from the roll and tossing the
rest back in the drawer. “This should be plenty.”

He dropped his head back against the headboard and groaned. “You’re
a cruel woman.”

“You have no idea.”

She made short work of his shoes and socks, dropping them off the
side of the bed so he could retrieve them easily later. She had no
intention of this taking long. She was going to take what she wanted
so fast he wouldn’t have the chance to be fulfilled from the
encounter. And then she would throw him out on his ass before he knew
what was happening. Quick, easy and painless for her. That was the
order of the day.

Jumping back onto the bed, she straddled his legs again and reached
forward for the waistband of his pants. Her hand grazed over the
bulge of his crotch before she got there, eliciting a moan from deep
in his throat. He was so hard. She relished the reaction. A surge of
power rushed through her. She rubbed the palm of her hand over his
hardness, once, then twice, toying with him the way he’d done
with her so often. His cock pitched forward against the constraining
fabric, knocking at the gate to be let out.

She moved to comply, more for her benefit than for his. She wanted
him in her hands, wanted him inside her, just one last time. Her
fingers moved over his fly, unbuttoning his pants and sliding the
zipper down. His cock sprang free, long and big and completely hard.

Jess couldn’t help glancing up at his face. He watched her, his
eyes heavy-lidded and alert.

“No underwear? Someone was feeling overconfident.”

“I never wear underwear. That wasn’t part of the act.”

“I’m sure. They probably get in the way of you doing your
job.”

He opened his mouth to reply. She didn’t give him the chance,
grabbing hold of his cock with one hand and giving it one long
stroke. Her thumb rubbed around the mushroom-shaped head. He
shuddered at her touch, his eyes briefly drifting shut. They opened
again to pin her with his stare.

“You’re playing with fire there. I’ve got three
weeks worth of tension built up begging for release.”

“You’re not the only one.” Jess loosened her
fingers, letting his cock pop out of her hand. His groan was one of
frustration. She had to grin. “But if you don’t like
that, I’ll move on.”

“I like it just fine.”

“Too late,” she tossed off, leaning forward again. She
wasn’t going to remove his shirt. It would be too much trouble
to get it back on again and would only delay his departure. That
didn’t mean she didn’t want to feel him one last time.

She shoved her hands under the cloth and closed her eyes. Seeing him
was unnecessary. Feeling was all that mattered. He’d shown her
that. It was about time she turned it against him. She ran the whole
of her hands over his torso, as though reading him by memory. His
body was exactly as she remembered. The firm ridges and packed muscle
of his belly danced beneath her touch with every shuddery breath he
took. Her fingers found his pecs. His skin was so smooth, and
everything beneath it so hard. She delighted in the feel of it. When
she came across his nipples, she caught them between her thumbs and
forefingers and twisted hard. He sucked in a tight breath. She could
only smile.

She could have stayed there all day, just touching him. He felt that
good. It seemed impossible that the man in the flesh could live up to
the way she’d dreamed about him every night since she’d
left L.A. But here he was, not only just as good, but better. She
couldn’t get enough. She wanted to lean close. She wanted to
feel his arms around her—

Her hand stilled over his heart. The feel of it thudding away beneath
her fingers, the rhythm fast and unsteady, made hers twist painfully
in her chest.

Jess gave her head a quick shake to clear her thoughts. She was
entering dangerous territory. She had to get back on track.

She pulled away without warning, simply yanking her hands from
beneath his shirt and leaping off of him to the floor. He uttered a
soft protest.

“Where are you going?”

She reached for the condom she’d tossed onto the bedspread and
looked at him. “Who said I was going anywhere?”

He groaned and let his head fall back against the headboard. “You’re
killing me here.”

“Oooh. Bonus.” Popping the foil wrapper into her mouth,
she quickly slid off her jeans and underwear. He lifted his head
again to look at her. She caught his sudden intake of breath, the
hitch of his chest beneath his shirt. His eyes gleamed with open
desire.

Not bothering with her shirt either, Jess tore the condom packet open
with her teeth and moved back to the bed. She straddled him again,
right below his waist, and reached down to slowly roll the rubber
over his cock. It throbbed in her hand, pulsing so heavily she
thought he was about to come. She shot a glare at his face. “Don’t
you dare,” she told him.

“It’s been a long three weeks,” he murmured.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“Then hurry.”

Part of her wanted to go slower just to deny him, but she wasn’t
about to do that to herself. Pushing up on to her knees, she grabbed
his cock in one hand and positioned herself over it. His breaths came
out in short, fast pants, the ragged sounds filling the room. She bit
her lip to keep from doing the same, the tension nearly bursting
inside of her. Slowly swaying her hips lower, she rubbed the tip of
his cock to her damp folds, sliding it back and forth over the lips.
Her eyes never moved from his face. He was trying to hold on, trying
to wait until he was buried inside of her before he lost control. The
effort was written on every inch of his face. But it had been so
long. For her too. It was all she could do not to drop down and
impale herself on him.

Finally the pressure grew to an unbearable level. She needed it. She
needed him. Pushing her knees apart, she dropped down onto him,
guiding his cock into her in one long, smooth stroke.

They each breathed in unison, a single noise that resounded the air
between them. A gasp of relief, of rightness. A sigh of contentment.

It still wasn’t enough. She began to ride him, lifting off on
her knees and dropping back again. There was less room for him to
maneuver, but he couldn’t remain still. He pushed off the
mattress, raising his hips to meet her every downward thrust. She
came down harder every time, wanting more of him inside of her,
wanting every inch of him filling her. Her thighs slapped against his
legs, the sound loud in the room, mixing with the echoes of their
moans. It should have been painful, each of them thrusting harder and
harder, seeking release. But all they felt was the pleasure. His cock
stroked against her nub, bringing her closer and closer to release.
She felt herself being pushed closer to the edge with each downward
thrust, until she finally lost control, riding him, riding a wave of
pure sensation, as the sounds of his own release filled her ears.

She held on as long as she could, milking the moment for every last
drop of pleasure as wave after wave rocked through her. With one
final grunt of ecstasy, she fell forward, dropping her head onto his
chest, utterly spent.

His body jerked beneath her with the uneven rhythm of his breathing.
She lay there, breathless, knowing exactly what she should do next.
This was it. This was when she should pull away, untie the knots, and
shove him out of her life forever.

Except she didn’t want to.

That momentary burst of pleasure had been incredible. Amazing. But it
hadn’t been enough.

She wanted more.

She wanted him.

Her heart sank as the realization came over her. The sex wasn’t
enough. She was every bit the fool he’d thought she was. She’d
fallen for him. In spite of everything, she still didn’t want
to let him go.

“I really am an idiot,” she muttered.

“No, you’re not,” he whispered against her hair.

“You thought so when you lied to me about who you were.”

“No, I didn’t. I knew from the minute you walked in the
door of that house that you were too smart and I was going to have to
be more careful than I’d ever been before. And I didn’t
fool you. You knew there was something off about me from the start.”

“But I didn’t listen to my gut. I trusted you anyway.”

“That makes you smarter than me. I didn’t listen to mine.
I should have trusted you. Every instinct was telling me you were
innocent. I didn’t listen.”

In spite of herself, she lifted her head, curious. “Why didn’t
you?”

His eyes never wavered from hers. She could read the self-censure
there. “I was afraid of being wrong. I was afraid of being my
father, being that trusting.”

“You should have told me.”

“I know. If I could go back and do it all again differently, I
would. I wish I could. But all I can do is say I’m sorry.”

She tried to hold on to her anger. She tried to use her righteous
fury to ward off his words. It didn’t help. She felt her heart
crack just a little bit.

“I would be a fool to trust you.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, surprising her. “Or you could
be smart enough to trust your instincts. Smarter than me anyway. But
you should know that I’m not giving up. I’m going to do
whatever it takes to convince you to give us a chance. I let you walk
out of my life once and it almost killed me. I’m sure as hell
not doing that again.”

She couldn’t bring herself to respond. She didn’t want to
believe him. He didn’t deserve it.

She closed her eyes, bracing herself against the words even as she
felt a curious lightness in her chest. There was a sudden uptick in
the beating of her heart, and her breath was gone again.

“Don’t make me go.”

There was a rough edge to his voice, a huskiness beneath the
determination. Uncertainty. The sound sent another rush of emotion
pouring through her, and she finally identified the sensation. It was
joy. Complete, unadultered happiness. No matter how foolish it was,
no matter how illogical, she believed him.

She sensed him holding his breath and lifted her head up to meet his
eyes. She smiled.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

Then he was smiling too, that big beautiful smile she saw in her
dreams even when she’d tried not to. She felt his sigh of
relief to the tips of her toes. He was still inside her, still hard
and full as ever.