Mine to Hold (15 page)

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Authors: Shayla Black

BOOK: Mine to Hold
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“Tyler?” she panted.

His fingers didn’t stop plucking her hard nipple, rubbing that delicious clit in a light, now teasing circle.

He kissed her neck again, nipping at her ear. “I’m here, angel.”

“I . . . Oh my God, I’m going to—”

“Come. Yeah.” The thought made him even harder.

“No.” But the word was a wail, a despondent cry of need.

Her body thrashed. More juice slicked his fingers, and she pushed into his hands, her breathing ragged.

“You’re going to let me give you an orgasm.” He didn’t ask; he knew from her body that he’d taken her past the point of no return. She’d be pissed afterward . . . but he’d always lived by the motto that it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

“Hurry.”

He backed off just a fraction. He didn’t want to rush her pleasure. It would grow bigger, feel better, if he kindled it slowly, letting it build and build and build.

“Soon.” He nipped the back of her shoulder and moaned against her skin.

Del fought back, rubbing her ass against his cock again, streaking fire through his veins. If she kept that up, he was going to come in his shorts, like some teenager with a wet dream. Hell, Del
was
a wet dream.

Pressing the flat of his hand against her belly, he shoved up, grinding against her. She gasped, spreading her legs wider. Tyler took the opportunity to shove two fingers into her cunt.

She gasped, clamped down, then trembled around his fingers. That was also going to get her off too fast.

He withdrew, and she mewled in distress. “Damn it, Tyler.”

“Soon, angel.”

“You’re a bastard. You said you wanted me to”—she gasped as his fingers found her clit again—“come.”

Then she wiggled her ass against him, slow and sexy, intentionally lighting him up. God, he was desperate to get inside her, feel her sweet little cunt all around him, know that it was Del taking him, clawing into his back and calling his name.

For a long moment, Tyler couldn’t breathe, so he just absorbed the pleasure mowing down every one of his better intentions.

They fell into a quick rhythm, Del gyrating back on his cock, then lifting into his fingers now circling her clit. Their breathing synced up, fast and shallow and loud.

“Tyler!” she all but begged.

And he could feel how distended her clit was, straining, jolting. She dug her nails into his thigh and cried out.

“Fuck, yes! Del . . .” He pushed against her, standing at the edge of a chasm of pleasure he couldn’t wait to tumble into. He was going to soil his shorts, and he didn’t give a shit.

Then it hit. Fire danced up his cock. The base of his spine tingled. His balls turned tight and heavy. He exploded. Under his hand, Del tensed and whimpered, her hips bucking, drawing out her own pleasure and his until it made his whole body seize. Until he gave himself over completely. Warm jets of semen shot between them, coating his belly and her back where the tank top had ridden up. It made him twelve kinds of primitive to be glad that if his seed couldn’t be inside her, at least it was on her.

Moments later, their heavy breathing stopped. Del stiffened and pulled away.

Now it was time to pay the piper.

“What the hell were you doing?” She wrenched away.

Tyler resisted the urge to point out that she’d been complaining thirty seconds ago that he was withholding her pleasure. Big guess, but it would only piss her off more.

“Getting close to you and making you feel good.”

“Why?”

Because I think I want you for longer than a road trip, and I need to give you a reason to feel the same
. Hmm. Maybe that explanation would have to wait.

He rose, flipped on the bathroom light, and grabbed a cheap washcloth from the towel rack and ran hot water over it. Wincing, he shucked his shorts and wiped himself clean, then rinsed the scrap of terrycloth and wrung it out. Stark naked, he crossed the room to Del, all wrapped up in the sheet and looking at him as if he’d lost his mind.

She judiciously avoided looking south of his face. “I told you earlier not to touch me.”

I told you earlier not to hold your breath 
. . . “Who else is going to clean your back?”

Del hesitated, then scrambled out of bed. “I’ll take a shower. I have to clean my clothes anyway.”

When she would have walked off, he grabbed her arm. “Don’t. I made the mess. Let me clean it up.”

With one hand, he pushed her shorts down her legs until they hung around her thighs.

Fuck, she wasn’t wearing any panties, and her pert ass was totally bare.

Before that thought could roll through him and awaken his libido again, he yanked her tank over her head.

She shrieked. “I have to be naked for this?”

“It’ll work better if I can actually get to your skin.” He swept the damp cloth over her back, into the sexy hollow at the base of her spine, over the firm globes of her ass. He’d take any excuse to put his hands on the sweet flare of her hip and run a finger up the shadowy line bisecting her backside, where he was pretty sure no man had ever taken her . . .

“That’s enough.” She pulled away.

Prickly. Okay, he’d stepped over the line. He’d meant to comfort and release her. Instead, he’d almost molested her. If he wanted to ever touch her again, he was going to have to downshift, go slower. With her, that was so hard. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but it felt damn good to hold you. I’m not going to apologize for something I don’t regret.”

Del grunted as she stripped off the shorts and grabbed a towel from the bathroom. She tucked it around herself as she made her way to her duffel, picking through the garments. He rinsed out his shorts, throwing a little soap on them. The silence was tight and awkward.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He frowned at the thought.

“Of course not.”

“So you’re mad because I touched you without permission or because you got off?”

“Because we don’t need this complication now. Someone is trying to kill me, and—”

“Not right this second. The only person in the world who knows exactly where we are is Alyssa. You’re safe.” He walked toward her, as naked as the day he’d been born. “So tell me what this is really about?”

“This—us—isn’t a good idea.”

“Why? When did I ever hurt you?”

Guilt crossed her face. “You didn’t. I probably hurt you by shutting you out. And I know it’s not fair of me to paint you with Eric’s brush, but you were best friends. I’m just not ready to be . . . involved again.”

“So no one has been taking care of your needs, Del?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah? Who’s going to hold you, make you feel desirable, protected, and adored?”

“I’m too busy to worry about any of that. Divorce and parenting by yourself sort of kills the sex drive.”

“Yours seems to be working fine now.”

“Bastard!” She yanked a pair of panties and a T-shirt from the heap of her duffel. “I can’t believe you want to talk about my sex drive before you ask about the birth of your son. But it’s you, so I should.”

“Oh, we’re going to talk about Seth, too. I want to know everything I missed in his life. But let’s finish one conversation before we start another.”

“That’s easy. This conversation is over.”

“And you’re pissed off at me, why? Because I made you feel something for me that you’re afraid of?”

“No,” she insisted.

Tyler knew he’d hit a nerve but shrugged. “If you say so. Let’s see if you’d be less angry if I got you off with my tongue.”

Del gasped. When he reached for her, she hustled into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face. By the time she emerged again a few minutes later, all covered up, she looked composed and pristine. He supposed now wasn’t the right time to mention the love bite he’d accidentally left on her neck. He smiled.

“Are we going back to sleep or are we driving?” Her tense face and posture warned him to back off.

That wasn’t his style. “We’re talking. I told you that we’re doing things my way this time. I think you needed to be held. I damn sure needed to be closer to you. The thought of you with some killer makes my blood run cold. The way you’ve been stressed is not good for you. Sue me for caring.”

“There’s a difference between caring and feeling me up.”

“Maybe I don’t know the difference. It’s not like I have a lot of experience with wanting more from a woman than a simple fuck.”

“You don’t feel that way about me. We were friends. You’re confused because of Seth.”

He curled a hand around her neck, breathing onto her soft lips. “Don’t tell me what I feel. How the fuck would you even know? I put myself out for Eric that night, not just because he asked but because we both wanted it. For days, I waited for you to call me afterward. You never did. I was his best man at your wedding. I was your friend. No one saw fit to tell me that you were pregnant or getting divorced. It slipped your mind to find me before you went into labor? Or you just didn’t give a shit about me?”

“Oh God.” Guilt tightened her face. “Is that what you think? Of course I cared. Because of that night, Eric realized that the feelings I’d been having for you weren’t totally platonic.”

Tyler froze. She’d wanted him before they’d made love?

“Oh, don’t look surprised.” Del frowned, and he wanted to kiss her. “For the next week, I tried everything I could think of to calm him down, to convince him to reach out to you and discuss it. He forbade me to call. Normally, I’d tell him to go to hell, but I was trying to make the marriage work . . .”

And his partner in crime fighting and best friend had cut him off cold—all over the wife Eric hadn’t lifted a finger to love or cherish. That motherfucker.

“But I always meant to call you.”

He wanted to believe it, and something in his chest jolted at the thought that she might want him, too. “I tried to text you about a week later.”

Regret flitted across her face. “While I was out one day, Eric bummed a ride and went to the wireless store. He traded in my phone and got me a new number. When I flipped through it, all your contact information had been deleted, along with every picture I had stored of you.”

So Eric had been a jealous bastard and done everything possible to come between them. Because he’d wanted to repair things with Del, or just because another man had challenged him for a place in her heart? And Tyler bet that once he’d gone to Lafayette, Eric had directed all the anger about his inadequacy at Del, making her feel guilty and miserable.

At the time, Tyler assumed leaving L.A. to wrap up his case in Lafayette would give them the space they needed. When Del hadn’t returned his messages, and Eric had answered him in monosyllables, Tyler had stayed in Louisiana and tried to convince himself that he was in love with someone else while drowning his hurt in sex. That had been his worst move of all. How much different would everything be now if he’d admitted then that he wanted Del and had pursued her?

He sank onto the edge of the bed. “What happened next?”

“We both tried to make it work for a while, but we never really talked about . . . that night. With every day that passed, he just sank deeper into anger, then depression. It was like the first few weeks after the shooting, but worse. He began to drink. A lot. The positive pregnancy test was just the final nail in the coffin.”

“You left then?”

She pressed her lips together, hesitating. “Eric asked me to leave.”

Tyler jumped to his feet. “The son of a bitch threw you out when you were pregnant? He knew you had no family, nowhere to go.”

“I found a place after a week in a motel.” She shrugged. “It was for the best.”

Fury boiled inside Tyler, hot and insidious. The guy hadn’t always been a true and faithful husband, but Tyler had thought that Eric would at least ensure her well-being. What a prick.

So, all alone, Del had gone through, what? Morning sickness, her body changing. He’d been around Kimber and Alyssa through their pregnancies. They’d complained about peeing all the time, backaches, swelling ankles, food cravings and aversions. Deke and Luc had catered to their every whim, taken over responsibilities so they could rest. Who’d taken care of Del through all of that? When she’d gone into labor? When she’d come home with a newborn?

“I’m going to beat the fucking hell out of him.”

Tyler realized that he hadn’t been much better, hanging out in Lafayette, up to his eyeballs in Jack Daniel’s and pussy. Guilt serrated him.

What else had he expected? He could hear his mother’s voice,
Like father, like son
 . . .

“Don’t.” Del sounded tired. “It won’t solve anything. If it helps, I didn’t go through everything alone. Eric and I were together, signing the papers so he could buy my half of the house, when I went into labor. He took me to the hospital. He actually stayed through the delivery. He’s not a terrible person, just insecure. At times, he took it out on me. You know the shooting totally changed him.”

Eric had seen
his
son brought into the world. Tyler wondered what he’d been doing that night. Cracking skulls and fucking some stripper?

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