Muscling In (3 page)

Those words were Coben’s
undoing. Cum gushed from him into Edward. He withdrew, barged back in. More
release emptied from him.

Ropes of cum slicked between
them—Edward’s undoing. They fed off each other, swallowed each other’s moans
and grunts of ecstasy. Clung with more fervor to shoulders and faces, limbs
tangling with torsos.

Coben had never felt so happy.
He’d never felt so sad.

How could this be the end? How
could this sweet sin be so wrong they had to throw in the towel on their
relationship?

He shut his eyes and held back
a tear. This was it. By the time he’d caught his breath the bliss of being
inside Edward, the man he’d loved for the last year, would have come to an end.

They’d part.

Forever.

And forever was a long fucking
time.

Chapter One

Five Years Later

Sian

I took a sip of champagne and
looked at my husband across the crowded room. He was so damn handsome in the
new black suit he’d bought last week. It was different to his others, tapered
legs, which made him appear even taller than he was, and a smart, fashionable
single-breasted button-up.

He glanced at me. His gaze
held mine for a moment, letting me know he was thinking of me even though he
was schmoozing with customers. Then he gave the briefest of smiles and carried
on a serious-looking conversation.

I turned back to Mable Stern,
the wife of a man I knew could not only be good for business but was also very
chatty. She had lipstick on her teeth and I was struggling not to stare at it.
I’d also swept my tongue over my own teeth several times, hoping I didn’t have
the same problem. Why should I? I didn’t usually have that issue.

“So Rome was absolutely fabulous,
darling,” she said to me. “But of course you have to watch where you wander.
Can be pretty ropey in some of those backstreets. Wouldn’t want to come
face-to-face with an Italian mobster now, would you?”

“No, absolutely not.” Again I
glanced across the room. I didn’t worry about walking in dark alleys, not since
I’d been married. My husband was tough as nails and, despite the cultured
veneer, he could be rough when he needed to be.

A shiver went up my spine.
Damn he’d been hot and rough in bed last week, when we’d been in that London
hotel on our third anniversary. I’d asked him to tie me up, spank my ass, come
on my breasts. Sure we’d both had our fill of a very nice Malbec, but still,
I’d felt it all, been utterly thrilled by it all. He’d let a sexual beast out
to play that I feared he so often kept hidden and I couldn’t have been happier.

I glanced at him again.

He was deep in discussion. No
doubt chatting about a new contract he had in Saudi Arabia that was taking up a
lot of his time. He was hoping to recruit a couple of new assistants to do the
legwork and take some of the pressure off. That would also mean he could move
on to his next big project.

Who would have thought beneath
that polite smile was a man with so many layers? He had so much hunger, desire.
His passion for me blew me away sometimes; it was as if we were on a permanent
honeymoon, never getting our fill of each other—never fucking, coming,
devouring each other enough.

“I’m just going to powder my
nose,” Mable said, resting her fingers on my forearm.

“Yes, of course.” I bit my
bottom lip, preventing myself from adding, “look in the mirror, please.”

She wandered off, a little
wobbly. She’d had a sherry too many perhaps.

I spied the buffet and my
stomach gave a pang of longing. I’d been inking all day and only managed an
egg-and-bacon Subway at about eleven. I weaved my way through the room, pausing
briefly when a passing waiter offered to top up my flute. The bubbles popped
and fizzed over the rim, dampening my hand. I smiled my thanks.

Smoked salmon called to me and
I helped myself to a sliver on a thin slice of rye bread and let the flavors
spread on my tongue.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Thick arms wrapped around my
waist and a stubbled chin scratched against my temple.

“Hey,” I said, pressing my ass
into my husband’s groin. “Are you getting on okay with your…diplomacy?”

“It’s all good. Some great
guys here to connect with.”

“That’s what it’s all about.”
I reached for a chunk of cheese and popped it into my mouth.

“It is. But it’s work and I
can’t wait to be off duty.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, because then it’s
us
time.”

“I like the sound of that.”

He pressed a quick kiss to the
curve of my jawline, then released me, stepped back.

“Sian, how is the buffet, my
dear?”

Mable had returned, luckily
minus the lipstick on her teeth.

“It’s good, very good.” I
smiled.

She looked between me and my
husband with an expectant expression on her face.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said,
“please let me introduce you. This is my husband, Coben Wright. Coben, this is
Mable Stern.”

She tilted her chin and
nodded. “Of course, yes, very pleased to meet you, Mr. Wright.”

“Please, Coben is fine.” He
gave one of his most charming smiles and reached for her hand. He drew it to
his mouth and swept a light kiss on her knuckles.

Mable all but simpered. She
fluttered her eyelashes and jigged from one foot to the other.

“Oh,” she said. “Well…yes,
lovely.” She glanced to her right. “Please, I must introduce you to Harold. I
know he’s dying to meet you.” She withdrew her hand and clutched it to her
chest as though holding the sensation of Coben’s lips within her fist.

“That would be wonderful.”
Coben held out the crook of his arm, offering it to Mable.

She took it, still beaming.

Coben glanced briefly at me,
then led the way to Mable’s husband.

I watched them go, pleased.
Harold Stern was someone Coben had been hoping to get on familiar terms with.
Mr. Stern had a new branch of his business being set up in Abu Dhabi that would
no doubt need expert cyber security. A service Coben could offer.

I helped myself to another
piece of salmon, then spotted the wife of one of Coben’s employees. She was
tapping away on her iPhone but must have sensed me looking her way because she
glanced up, smiled. I headed over and we were soon lost in a conversation about
the best all-inclusive resorts in the Maldives—somewhere I was dying to go.

I didn’t notice the time
slipping away and before I knew it Coben and I were in the car heading home.

“How did it go with Harold
Stern?” I asked, resting my hand on Coben’s thigh the way I often did when he
was driving. I liked to be touching him whenever I could.

“Great,” he said, nodding.
“He’s very interested in what we can offer him.”

“He’s a smart guy.”

“Well, let’s just say he’s in
the know about what threats he’s up against. He’s also heard good things about
us, which is a big plus.”

“Yes, word of mouth is what
it’s all about. You’re not exactly advertising in
Metro
.”

“Seems the word is spreading.
These events might be a bit boring for you to attend with me but they’re
important for networking and getting the company out there.”

“It’s not boring.” I squeezed
his leg. “I enjoy seeing you in action.”

He glanced my way, threw a
sinful smile at me, then turned back to the road. “You’re going to witness some
very hot action when we get home.”

“I like the sound of that.”
Feeling a little emboldened by the champagne, I slid my hand up his leg and
cupped his cock through the folds of his suit trousers.

“Watch it,” he said, shifting
on the seat.

He was hardening beneath my
hand. I adored that I had that effect on him. One touch, one suggestive remark,
one lick of my lips and he was getting ready to go.

I squeezed his shaft and ran
my thumb over the outline of his cockhead.

“Babe,” he said, reaching for
my wrist and tugging me away.

“Spoil sport.” I huffed.

He chuckled. “Not that I don’t
adore your hands on me, but remember when we got carried away that time, coming
back from your mother’s?”

“How could I forget?” I licked
my lips, recalling how I’d gone down on him while he was driving. He’d been so
hard, and it had felt so naughty.

“I nearly killed us both.” He
drew my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “Worse ways to go but
hey…it’s not our time yet.”

I folded my arms and pressed
my fingers into my armpits. He was right. But I didn’t trust myself not to
touch him again if I kept my hand on his thigh. Thank goodness we were only a
few miles from home.

****

Coben opened the door and
flicked on the hall light.

I stepped in behind him and
kicked off my heels.

There was a sudden bang. A
slam. He’d pushed the door up, hard.

“Cobe—”

His lips were over mine, his
hands in my hair. The cool wall pressed against my shoulders as he backed me
up.

I swept my tongue into his
mouth, giving as good as he gave. Damn the taste of him, the urgency flowing
off him in waves. It was enough to make my knickers wet and my nipples peak
against the inside of my bra.

“Tease,” he said, kissing over
my cheek, then nibbling my earlobe.

“I’m not…” I gasped as I clung
to his biceps. Through his jacket I could feel they were tense, bulging. “I
didn’t touch you again in the car.”

“Just by being there, next to
me…” He paused as he cupped my right breast. “Just by wearing this sexy fucking
dress you’ve teased me all evening.”

“What this tatty old thing?” I
grinned, then groaned as he massaged my breast—not hard, but not gently either,
just the way he knew I liked.

“Well if it’s that old and
tatty it should come off.” He stooped, gripped the hem, then pulled it up.
Luckily there was no zip and the material slid easily over my head.

He tossed it over his shoulder
and it landed half on the floor, half draped over a potted plant that stood in
a large burgundy vase.

“Fuck…” he muttered, his
attention landing on the new cerise underwear I’d opted to wear beneath the
tight black dress. “That’s so fucking hot.”

He kissed me again, pushing
his erection against my belly. I had the feeling the underwear wouldn’t be
staying on for long.

His touch skimmed down my
sides, dipping into my waist, then over the slight flare of my hips. My skin
felt on fire, his palms leaving a trail of need and delicious sensation. I
wanted him to touch me, all over, and never stop.

I pushed at his jacket,
shoving it over his shoulders.

He released me, shrugged out
of it and let it land on the floor, instantly forgotten despite its price tag.

The next thing I knew I was in
his arms, pressed up against his chest, and he was marching up the staircase. I
stared at his face. He had a look of sheer determination. Like a predator who’d
captured his prey. A Neanderthal who’d snared his woman.

He kicked the door to the
bedroom open and dropped me on the bed. I bounced and let out a squeal.

“Strip,” he said, undoing his
belt and quickly skimming it free of the loops. “Now.”

I undid my bra and tossed it
aside. Rolled down the sinfully thin bit of fabric that was my thong and kicked
it to the floor. I scooted up the bed and rested my head on the pillow.
Anticipation was making my skin tingle and my breaths come fast.

He swept his tongue over his
bottom lip and stepped out of his trousers. “Spread your legs, woman.”

I raised my eyebrows. God, I
loved that demanding, sergeant major tone of his. It went straight to my core
and stimulated something very deep and primitive inside me. I couldn’t help but
obey.

I parted my legs, slowly, letting
my heels skim over the satin sheet and feeling cool air wash over my damp
pussy.

He kept his attention on the
juncture of my thighs as he calmly released the buttons on his dress shirt. His
pulse was pushing at the skin on his neck, beating to a fast tempo and giving
away the extent of his arousal despite his controlled appearance.

“Fuck, how did I get so
lucky?” he muttered, quietly, almost to himself.

“I feel the same.” I smiled
and cupped my breasts, trapped my nipples between my fingers and tugged them.

He discarded his shirt, then
shoved at his boxers. His cock sprang forward, erect and the flesh a few shades
darker than that on the rest of his body.

My mouth watered; it was like
a Pavlov reaction. I hoped he’d want oral. I adored having his cock in my
mouth.

“You want this?” he asked,
wrapping his hand around his shaft and moving to the end of the bed.

“Yes. All of it. All of you.”

He gave me a wicked smile.
“Good, ’cause you’re going to get it.” He crawled between my legs, his body
low, and settled his face over my pussy. He pulled in a deep breath, his eyes
fluttering shut for a moment. “Fuck, you smell so ready for it.”

“I am.” I reached for his head
and bucked my hips so my pussy met his mouth.

He set straight to work,
slipping his tongue through my folds and finding my clit. He spun a circle over
it with firm pressure.

“Ahh, yeah…” I gasped,
shutting my eyes. “That’s it.”

He searched out my entrance
and pushed one long finger into me.