Addy And The Smart Guy (Big Girl Panties #3) (6 page)

"I'm not," she replied, going for assertive but not quite pulling it off.

"You're brand new. Someone who just finished being a kid, now playing at being a grown woman. You're composed, Addison, but be honest. There's a little bit of rebellion going on here, isn't there?" He moved toward her so that her breasts were touching his chest through the crisp, white shirt he had on.
 

"I have no authority to rebel against," she answered, as she slid her hands flat up his abs and chest. "I'm an adult."

"Mm. If you're not rebelling, then you're playing a game. That's what this is, isn't it? You saw some soap opera about a student running off with her professor, and now you're re-enacting the drama?"

She frowned, meeting his eyes, now. He was smiling as though this was all a joke, but she caught the insecurity, just around the edges of his expression. "Are you afraid?" she asked.

A laugh. "Afraid of what?"

There was no answer to this that she could think of. She took a step back and answered his other question, instead. "I'm not playing a game, Grey. But I am having a first time. My first time with a man. My first time with you. This is my first time wearing something sexy for a man." She looked down and fingered the lace edge of her baby doll gown. When she managed to glance back up, she saw that she had his attention, or rather her legs had his attention. Suppressing a grin, she said, "Don't you like it?" She spun, slowly, glancing over her shoulder at him. This was a thrilling element of their relationship. It hadn't occurred to her what a feeling of power she'd get from his lust.
 

"I like it."

Heat coursed through her. Grey's eyes were wide and hungry, his jaw tight. Whatever insecurity had prompted him to ask those ridiculous questions was gone, now. Now that he was under her spell, her confidence soared. She closed the distance between them, grabbed Grey's tie, and gave it a yank. "Don't you wanna touch me, Grey?"

He started to grin. "You'd better be careful, Addison."

She stepped back again, stretched up, and braced herself against the hallway walls on either side of her. She slid her bare foot up the inside of Grey's leg. "Why? Am I playing with fire? Are you gonna ravage me, Grey? You gonna make a woman out of me?"

He grinned all out, then. In a flash, he grabbed her ankle and moved into her, hooking her knee over his hip and hugging her tightly to his chest. He stared down into her eyes as he gripped one of her breasts, massaging and teasing it. "You aren't fooling me, kiddo, talking big, acting like you know what you're doing. I can feel you shaking in my arms."

"That's lust."

"Yeah. And fear. You got no idea what's coming next."

She felt her own smile falter, because he was right. She really didn't know what was next. But she did have absolute faith that Grey wouldn't hurt her. There just happened to be a whole, gray area of non-dangerous experiences that she still found frightening. "Y-you're a gentleman," she said. "I'm c-confident you'll temper your passion with good sense."

His smile was all-out wicked, and Addy felt the power shift. Surprisingly, she found it was no less thrilling being at his mercy than having him at hers. He spun her around and pressed her palms to the wall, high over her head. "A gentleman, huh?" he muttered, as he yanked down her thong, leaving it down at her ankles. "If a gentleman is someone who fucks you while still wearing a tie, then I guess that's what I am."

Addy's heart thundered in her ears. She'd thought they would go back to the bedroom, undress, and lie down together. She'd thought they would be facing each other, moving slowly, and kissing. "Grey?" she gasped, uncertain of what was happening.

She heard his pants unzip, but when she started to turn and look at him, he stopped her. "Face the wall, Addison."

He gripped her hips and pressed down on her upper back so that her ass was arched out toward him. "Oh," she gasped.

"I think about this in the office sometimes," he said. Addy heard the sounds of a condom being ripped open and rolled on. "I try not to. I try to think of you in a respectful way. But sometimes I just can't help it, and I think about you, like this, against a wall. I think about hiking up those tight skirts of yours, ripping off your panties and…"

He thrust his length inside of her, jolting her forward. Addy screamed in shock.
 

"And doing this to you," he said, his voice tight through his teeth. He gripped her hips and pulled her back toward him. He pulled out and slammed in again. Addy braced herself against the wall to keep from being shoved through it by the force of his thrusts. "Is it insulting?" he asked. "Knowing I'm thinking of you like this?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He was unhooking the halter behind her neck, freeing her breasts. He took one in his hand and squeezed.

"I wouldn't want to make you feel disrespected," he said, still thrusting and kneading. How was he still talking?

"No," she gasped, trying to answer him. But she was overwhelmed. She dropped her head and closed her eyes. The need was concentrating hard between her legs, and she knew she needed to be touched there. It felt amazing with him inside of her, but she needed to be touched on the outside, too.
 

"Makes a man feel conflicted," he growled. "Liking a girl so much for her company and conversation, yet still wanting to rip her clothes off and fuck her standing up like an animal."

She sobbed in frustration.
 

"What do you think, Ms. Hart?"

She reared her head back and cried out, pushing her ass back against him. His thrusts came harder, pounding into her. She could barely hear his breathing over her own breathing. The ache was driving her insane. She couldn't take it anymore and reached for herself, but Grey caught her hand, slapping it back against the wall, pinning it there with his own.

"Please!" she cried.

"Addison, my God!" he moaned. Suddenly, his arms were wrapped around her, one over her chest, the other over her hips, pressing her against him as he climaxed inside of her.
 

As she stood there, shaking with need in his arms, she felt herself smile. The two of them must be a sight. Her with a negligée bunched up at her waist and a thong around her ankles, him still fully clothed, holding her like a lifeline, his face buried in her neck. Addy dropped her head back onto his shoulder. "I liked that," she whispered.

He murmured something inaudible into her neck.

"You seemed to like it a lot," she said.

Grey separated from her and turned her in his arms. He lifted her hands and placed a kiss on each wrist. Addy thought it was sweet. It did nothing for the unrelenting, nearly painful throbbing between her legs, but she was embarrassed to say so. Maybe he thought she'd already gotten off. Maybe he'd forgotten. Either way, she would just have to wait until next time.

Except that after Grey kissed her wrists, he slowly lifted them over her head, even as his grin widened. He pinned her wrists to the wall in one hand and pressed himself against her, wedging his thigh between her legs. "W-what are you doing?" she asked.

He ignored her as he kneaded one breast and lapped at the other with his tongue. His thigh nudged up, tight against her, and almost of their own volition, her hips began riding, grinding against him. His tongue on her nipple was driving her crazy. Addy lowered her head to kiss the top of his. "Let my hands free," she whispered. "I want to touch you."

He didn't release her, but he did lift his head to smile into her eyes. "Did you ever have any fantasies?" he asked. "About you and I?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus, though most of her body's energy was concentrated on the searing tension between her legs. "A kiss," she said.

His eyebrows lifted in amusement. "That's all?"

"Is that all? A kiss would have been everything to me." She dropped her head back and closed her eyes. "I used to imagine what it would be like if you made some grand gesture…just walked up to me in the crowded hallway and then touched my jaw with your fingertips. Then everything would go away, and it would just be you, lifting my chin and lowering your lips to mine. Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh!" As she climaxed, he released her wrists, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. And as she came down off the high, with a soft hum of pleasure, she realized he was embracing her…just hugging her and kissing her hair.
 

"That was so sweet, Addison."

"Mmm," she moaned, nuzzling against his shoulder.

"I mean it." He pushed back, caging her with his hands against the wall on either side of her.
 

She fumbled at her nightgown, trying to cover her breasts with the halter because she felt exposed without his body pressed against her.
 

He touched her chin to get her attention. "Addison, that was really, really nice. A really sweet fantasy."

She smiled, uncertainly, and blushed. "It wasn't as good as yours."

"It was better. You're better. I don't deserve you, Addison."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, not sure what this was about. "I think we're fairly equally matched, Grey." Not wanting to go any further down the weird path that that conversation had taken, she grabbed him by the tie and led him back to his bedroom.

CHAPTER SIX

Addison didn't surprise him. He'd made a study of her for so long that he knew her well, though only in an academic sense. His was the pleasure of a scientist who'd found that all his hypotheses were true. This hands-on experience had even surpassed his hopes.
 

They'd made the most of their first night together. Now here she was the morning after, barely awake and already reaching for him. He'd known all along that beneath her demure, even prudish exterior, there was a passionate woman. Yet he was overjoyed, all the same, to feel the truth of his knowledge.

He rolled on top of her and made love to her, barely conscious. Afterward, they lay smiling like fools in each other's arms.
 

The massive affection and possessiveness he was feeling for her surprised him. Beyond that, it terrified him. He'd never felt this way during an affair. He told himself it was because she was so pure, and he was so jaded. Her youth and innocence, no matter her confidence and maturity, only fed his primal need to protect and provide. It was nothing to concern himself over, except that it would make their parting more painful.

Still, for now, he felt he could hold her forever; stroke her hair and back forever; inhale her scent into his soul like his life depended on it…forever.
 

She nuzzled her head beneath his chin and sighed. "What kind of man are you, Grey? I mean…with women?"

The only thing he knew was that he wanted to live this week with her in the moment. Only in the moment. Questions like that were not conducive to achieving his goal. "I've not had any complaints."

"Really? None?"

He thought back. Nope. He couldn't think of ever having a woman get angry at him or heart broken. "I suppose I've kept my relationships fairly casual. The women I date feel the same way I do. So…no. No problems."

"No bad breakups?"

"I wouldn't even call what I do breaking up. We just go until the thing fizzles and then move on."

"Is that what you're doing with your girlfriend?"

He hoped she didn't hear the hitch in his breath. "Yes. That's exactly how it is with Caroline."

She was quiet, and there was no way to interpret her silence. Even so, her questions came to him, without her asking. Would it be the same for Addison and him? Would they just go home, go back to the way things were?
 

"I've never been in love," she said. "But I've been watching my best friends falling in love. I think I want that someday."

He started to answer, but she sat up and looked down at him. "Not with you, of course," she said.
 

He laughed in relief. "I think that's wise. I'm not a 'love' kind of person."

She smiled, but there was sadness behind it. "You don't want the package? Wife, kids, house in the suburbs?"

"Absolutely not. Sounds like my worst nightmare."

She nodded. Then sighed. Then closed her eyes, drew herself up, and nodded again. "All right then. This week is gonna be my wild oats story. I'll tell my kids someday, 'Your momma wasn't always a good girl. She had a wild streak. She once ran off for a week with her professor.' And they'll be suitably impressed with my street cred."
 

He laughed. "You have to have street cred with your own kids?"

"Eventually. When they're teenagers, and you're trying to relate to them on their own level, yet they think you're completely lame. You were a teenager, once. You remember what it was like."

A cool breeze blew in the open French doors, whipping her hair into her face, making her shiver. He pushed her hair aside. "So didn't you rebel when you were a teenager?"

She sat up and brought the sheet over her chest. "I went to a party once. I did little things like drink with my friends. That party got me grounded for the rest of my high school days, though. I didn't see an entertaining social situation until after I moved out and went to college."

He shifted, feeling something else for her. Not sympathy, no. Empathy maybe. A connection. Because she was describing his own childhood. "You're an only child?" he asked.

She nodded and smiled. "Like you."

"Yeah. We were both model young people, too, weren't we."

"Did you never rebel?"

"No, but I left. Joined the Peace Corps. Then came back and got some education, a nursing degree, started working for the UN. Continued with school. I guess it's not rebellion, but I definitely left home. Definitely took my destiny into my own hands."

He'd enjoyed the UN work, but then he'd caught a bullet that shattered his shin. The physical therapy had taken nearly a year and, in that time, he'd acquired the teaching job. He liked it, too, and after all those years away, he'd been ready to settle in for a while.

 
Addison was watching him, already knowing most of his life story. He traced his fingertips down her neck and hovered around her pulse. He'd never noticed the frailty of woman, before. Never thought of them as fragile and in need of his protection. He was a feminist and didn't believe any of that. Yet somehow, he felt an urge he didn't recognize, a primal need, to protect this one. The beat of his heart seemed to have taken up a rhythm and a voice. It was saying,
Mine. Mine. Mine.