Against The Wall (22 page)

He’d tried her cell phone five times on the way home, but she hadn’t answered, and he’d already been to her apartment and nearly gone out of his mind when she was nowhere to be found.

And she’d been here all along, waiting for him.

God, he felt sick. Sick and scared and fucking furious that he’d waited so long to have this conversation.

He couldn’t wait anymore.

He was going to explain a few things before screwing her senseless again. He’d start with the fact that he was in love with her, followed closely by the fact that he wanted to marry her. Considering they were two things he had sworn to never do again, he was nervous as hell about it.

No, he qualified with a hoarse groan, petrified was more like it, which had frustration surging through him all over again. Shit, she was tying him in knots without even trying. He felt like a flame springing to life in a room full of explosives. One wrong move and everything would be lost. And damn it, he’d already made enough wrong moves.

He’d screwed up, he knew it, by being such a jackass and not coming right out and telling her how he felt before now. He’d tried to play it cool and safe, just like some pitiful coward, hoping she’d open up and reveal her feelings first. He’d let fear and his dumb-ass pride control his actions, and it could’ve cost him big time.

If he waited any longer, he might lose her—and that was something he simply wasn’t willing to accept.

A part of him, the part that had locked up his emotions for so damn long, felt like he was setting himself up for a huge emotional letdown here, but he couldn’t backpedal fast enough to stop his heart from tumbling forward. Damn it, he couldn’t be wrong this time. Not about this. Not about them. No way in hell.

He was willing to bet his fucking life on it—on her.

And she looked so beautiful sitting there that he just wanted to fall all over her. She looked like a gypsy…a poet…an ancient siren luring him to his doom all too easily. Damn, she didn’t even have to try. One word, one look, and he’d be on his knees in front of her, drooling like a dog for a chance to push those silky thighs wide and feast on her sticky sweet little pussy until he was so full of her she was a part of him.

The air surrounding her was charmed with innocence, cloaking her in protection. Ryan gritted his teeth against the savage need to rip it down, shattering her resistance until she was wide open and vulnerable, reduced to the same gnawing need that ate at him from within. He wanted her wild and hungry and ready to fuck, and he wanted her now.

He wanted her forever.

But first he had to tell her how he felt, damn it—and he didn’t know how the hell to do it.

Shea looked up to see him towering in the doorway. He hadn’t bothered to knock, but then this was his home, and he’d obviously forgotten his umbrella, because his clothes dripped water onto the floor where he stood. His rain-soaked hair was plastered to his head, dripping water into his narrowed eyes. And his handsome face wore a thunderous look of equal parts outrage and what looked strangely like fear.

It was impossible to tell which storm was worse, the one raging outside the walls of his apartment or the one standing in the doorway. “Hello, Ryan,” she said lamely, not a clue what to do. Damn, he was so beautiful it knocked the air right out of her and she drew a complete blank. Then her plan came back to her in a spark of intensity, and she closed the book, set it beside her, stood up and headed for his bedroom.

He followed her, feeling like an explosive ready to blow, the seconds to detonation ticking by faster and faster. “What are you doing here, Shea? Do you know how worried I was when I couldn’t get you on your phone and you weren’t at your place? How the hell did you even get in here?”

She shrugged casually, toeing off her sneakers and tossing them out of the way. “My phone’s in my apartment, so I didn’t hear it. As for how I got in here, I’ve got a key to Hannah’s place, and Hannah’s got a key to yours. Do you mind that I let myself in?” she asked huskily, her graceful fingers slowly unzipping her jeans, showing him she wore nothing underneath.

Ryan swallowed the growing lump of lust in his throat and felt his damn body clench in need, wanting to devour her whole. But he was trying to talk to her, damn it, not screw her! At least not yet. “What’s this all about, Shea? You sound pissed.”

“That’s a stupid question, Ry. You said all you had to offer was sex, so I’m here to get it.”

Well, shit. He didn’t know what to make of her in this kind of mood, but his instincts were clueing in real quick to the fact that something here wasn’t right. He needed to concentrate or he’d have her heels behind her ears, her pussy spread open and penetrated beneath him, before he knew what hit him.

He opened his mouth to ask what the hell she was talking about, but the sight of her tiny T-shirt being tossed over her head temporarily distracted him. By the time her jeans were clearing her ankles and her beautiful, naked little body was moving sinuously toward him, he’d completely forgotten they were even having a conversation. Well, at least he’d been trying to have one. Shea’s only intent seemed to be getting into his pants, if the attention she was paying his fly was any indication.

Hell, it worked for him, and it definitely worked for his dick, which seemed to think it needed to set new records every time she was near. Her eyes were still dark, her cheeks flushed, the tasty flesh of her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she started ripping the buttons of his fly open. His hands quickly lowered to join her own, his cock eager to get out and play. The last metal button slipped free, his dick poking through the open seam in his cotton boxers, huge and hard, ready to fuck, the tip already wet and ready. He reached for her, only to find himself falling backwards against his bed.

She’d pushed him—and the look in her eyes told him she planned on doing a hell of a lot more than that. Wondering if the expression on his face looked as stupid as it felt, Ry watched as she wrenched his jeans just over the swell of his hips, and then he couldn’t see anything because his eyes rolled back in his head as she crawled over his legs and swallowed half his cock down her throat.

“Jesus Christ,” he heard himself shout, his jaw grinding as her wet little tongue stroked him, her mouth moving up and down, cheeks hollowing out as she sucked him strong and sure, her hand coming up to gently cradle his balls, rolling the sacs in her palm. “Shea—oh, shit—I’m gonna come!”

It was a little embarrassing to be losing control so quickly, but Ryan didn’t know how he was supposed to have any left when she sucked him as if she wanted to swallow him whole. His dick was pumping, warning him he didn’t have long, but then her hand was squeezing tightly around the root of his cock, cutting off the flow, and she pulled off of him with one long, sensuous lick, making him want to beg for the finish. “Shea, what the fuck are you doing?”

And where the hell had she learned this little trick with her fingers to keep him from coming?

As if she read the question in his eyes, she licked her lips and said, “I read about it in a book. And just in case you were wondering, I’m not ready for you to come yet.”

Then she crawled up him some more, planting her knees at his hips, and rubbed her warm, wet pussy across the tip of his cock, her hand still wrapped tight around its thick base. He made a rough, sharp choking sound, watching the way his head moved between the pussy-pink lips of her cunt, drenching him with cream, and she arched her back, tilting her hips forward to give him a better view.

“You like what you see, Ry?”

His eyes snapped to hers, hating the cold, calculating look he saw there. “Yeah,” he growled. “I like it. I’d like to fuck it even more.”

She smiled, looking like a cat, all feral and cool and distant. “Sorry, big guy, but it’s your turn to get fucked today.” Then she relaxed her thighs and dropped down on him, letting her weight impale her on him, her cunt opening hungrily to suck him in.

Shea threw back her head and cried out at the thick penetration, loving the way he filled her to the point of blackness, and she hadn’t even taken all of him. Intent on doing just that, she braced her hands on his hipbones and pushed, forcing the whole of his cock into her, and then she began to move. There was no gentle roll of her hips, no slow seduction. She simply braced herself and began to ride the hell out of him, fucking him in a pounding rhythm that had him shaking and swearing and arching beneath her, his eyes holding hers the entire time.

He didn’t try to take control, not yet anyway, but his big hands found her breasts, fingers gripping her nipples, twisting and pulling until she could feel each little manipulation in the core of her pussy, sucking him like a clamp.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he groaned, the rough sound rumbling up from his chest. One hand left her breast to dip between her legs, wetting his fingers with her cream, and then he lifted his fingers to her mouth, rubbing her juices into her lips. Before he could pull away, she gripped them in her teeth, sucking his fingers to the same rhythm with which she was riding his cock.

It was too much. Before she could fight him, he had his hands gripping her hips, pinning her to him as he rolled their bodies. She stared up at him in outrage, clearly not liking having her show overrun, but he just pulled her to the edge of the mattress, planted his feet on the floor, and rammed into her hard enough to jerk a startled cry from her throat.

His eyes were wild and full of emotion, confusing her with their desires when she knew he needed nothing more from her than this. The only thing he wanted was fucking, when she’d wanted to give him everything.

But why was he staring down at her, his beautiful blue eyes liquid and bright, suddenly looking as if he wanted so much more?

He pulled out, then crammed it all back in, every beautiful inch of that brutal cock that was quickly hammering her into submission. She panicked and closed her eyes, breaking the connection.

“Open your eyes.” The words were guttural and raw, as if torn from his throat.

She screwed them tighter, but his next thrust plowed so deep, it was as if he hit a switch inside her head, as if the head of his cock nudged against the back of her lids, and they popped open against her will. Ryan snared her gaze and this time, she couldn’t look away. She was trapped, and the bastard knew it, because he gave her a slow smile, his lips pulling back over his teeth.

“My turn,” he growled.

And he took it for everything it was worth. Whatever detachment she’d tried to use when on top, proving to herself and to him that she could settle for just fucking—at least for now—he shattered beneath the pounding strokes of his cock into her cunt. While one hand secured her hips, his other fisted in her hair, and then his mouth was devouring hers, his tongue teaching her all about possession and hunger and the things that could be found between them if only she’d open herself up and let him all the way in.

He’d breached her body, but now he wanted into her heart, all the way to her soul. She felt the need pour through his kiss—felt it pumping through his cock and in the desperate grip of his hands on her body. It broke her and she went flying over, dragging him with her. They writhed and groaned and broke together, drenching the other in cum, sealing their bodies together in physical ecstasy.

Knowing she couldn’t breathe beneath him, Ryan rolled to his side, ready to pull her into him, secure against him, but she scrambled off the bed, backing out of reach as his eyes followed her with a dark expression that was quickly turning from satisfied to furious.

He watched her quickly rummage up her discarded clothes, her fingers shaking as she slipped them back over her sex-flushed skin still rosy and wet with their sweat and fluids, wondering what the fuck was wrong with her. He could feel her pulling away, drawing into herself, and he hated it. And he wasn’t about to put up with it, not when he knew with every cell in his body that he wanted this woman for the rest of his life. Wanted to own and love and belong to her forever.

The second her jeans cleared her hips, he sat up on the edge of the bed and asked what in his opinion was a very sensible question, considering what he really wanted to do was toss her over his shoulder and handcuff her to the bed until he figured out what was going on in that bizarre little head of hers. “Where the fuck are you going?”

With uneasy fascination, she watched a small tic develop in his hard, unshaven jaw. Then he asked it again, his tone low and gravelly. “Where the fuck are you going, Shea?”

Her heart tried to fight its way out of her throat, then sank with a resounding thud back to the churning pit of her stomach. “Home,” she mumbled, pulling her hair from the collar of her T-shirt.

“You’re just going to fucking walk out on me? Thanks for the screw but now I gotta bail? What the hell’s going on?”

“Gee, Ry. I’m surprised you have to ask.” She tried to appear casual while looking around, wondering where her shoes had disappeared to. “Isn’t this your norm, your usual? Mindless fucking and then you’re on your way. Since this is your place, I figure the least I can do is bail so you can get on with your life. You didn’t invite me here—I invited myself.”

He stood up, six-foot-four-inches of beautiful, rippling muscle and bone, every delicious bulge and plane accentuated by the wet, clinging fabric of his rain-drenched clothes. Shea nearly swallowed her tongue as he wrenched his jeans back up over his hips, not even bothering to fasten more than the two bottom buttons. She kept watch on him out the corner of her eye while she spotted one shoe and kept looking for the other.

“So we’re just supposed to fuck when we want to fuck and that’s it? Nothing more? No promises? No commitments?”

“Uh, yeah.” Your usual.

Oops. Apparently she hadn’t kept as good a distance between them as she should have, because he reached her, grabbing her shoulders in an unbreakable hold before she’d known he was even moving. How in the hell did a guy his size move so friggin’ fast?

“Goddamn it, there isn’t a fucking normal thing about this! You are not my norm or my usual or whatever the hell I used to like and I wouldn’t want you to be! And for your information, I want a hell of a lot more from you than this!”