Now and Then (7 page)

Ford was going to have to throw the suits a bone after all. Because stepping out of the club to find their limo at the ready when there was nothing on the planet he wanted more in that moment than to get Brynn alone, have more of her mouth and restless body moving against him, her breathy little noises there in his ear—yeah, that was big. Huge.

“This is for you?” Brynn asked when Ford led her by the hand to where the driver was opening the door.

He helped her inside and then folded himself in next to her.

“Yeah, the business thing. They pull out all the stops.”

She looked a little confused, but he’d explain about the games later. Tomorrow morning, or soon anyway. Once he figured out what had scared her off relationships so badly. Once he showed her she didn’t need to be scared with him. But right then, his entire focus was dedicated to making sure he waited until
after
he’d given the driver the address and the privacy shield was securely in place to pull Brynn into his lap.

She was quiet beside him, a tension building in the intimate space as the driver rounded the car.

He opened the door and Ford’s hand covered Brynn’s, needing the contact. Needing a hell of a lot more than just the contact, but knowing it was all he would take until they were on the road.

The driver slid inside and Brynn’s hand flipped, her fingers threading between his. And shit, if that slow slide of flesh against flesh didn’t have him half hard already. He wanted her. Wanted to be sliding between her legs, between her lips, deep in—

Focus.
Just a few more seconds.

There was a nod of understanding at Ford’s directions and then the partition was sliding up and up until, finally, they were alone. He turned to Brynn as she turned to him and, catching her by the back of the neck and the side of her hip, Ford pulled her into his lap.

She let out a gasp of surprise, but then her mouth was at the perfect height for the assault he couldn’t contain another damned second, and she was moaning against his lips and around his tongue. Softly, sweetly.

Fuck, then less sweetly, and more urgently as her one hand found its way back into his hair and the other wound in the fabric of his shirt. So good. He loved the way she clung to him when he kissed her, like she was afraid if she let go he’d stop. He wouldn’t, but the needy grip was like a firm stroke to his ego all right. And then her hips were shifting against him as she squirmed to get closer and—

“Oh God, Ford, I’m already going crazy from inside the club,” she panted, those dark curls shadowing her face where they hung in front of her eyes. “I can’t wait.”

—something in his brain shorted out.

In the next second, he had her straddling him. His hands were wrapped around the backs of her thighs, pushing upward until he had her skirt bunched around her hips. Until he could see the small triangle of her black panties. Until his hands were kneading the perfect curves of her ass as she moaned between one kiss and the next.

And then he was pulling her back down, bringing all that damp heat he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since his too brief encounter with it the week before against him. Jesus, that fast, and he was so hard it hurt.

“I need to feel you, baby,” he groaned against her ear as he slid into the back of her panties, reaching for where she was hot and wet for him—fully intent on making her wetter still. On making her scream.

Shit.
No screaming in the back of the limo, he mentally amended. But the wetter part? Hell yes.

He inched down in the seat, bringing Brynn with him, so she was leaning forward just that much more. The wide spread of her knees on the seat at either side of him keeping her flush against the hard ridge of his fly while he pressed a finger into her from behind.

“Ford,” she cried out, rocking back into him as he sank deeper still.

She was so tight. So wet. And the way her body clutched at him—he was never going to make it to Wicker Park.

But even as he thought it, he knew he would. Because the only thing he wanted more than to get off with Brynn was to get off with Brynn after he’d gotten her off half a dozen times first.

That was what he couldn’t wait for. What he needed more than his next fucking breath—to feel her coming apart around him.

Another slow, deep pump as she rocked over him again and the rippling spasm of her inner walls told him it would be soon.

“Do you want me to make you come, Brynn?” he asked, even though the tensing of her body and desperate clutching of her hands had already given him the answer. He wanted her to be looking into his eyes when she said yes. He wanted to see her come apart.

Her hips continued to rock as she blinked up at him, meeting him with those gorgeous Irish eyes, made even more beautiful by the sensual fog clouding them. “Oh God, yes.
Yes.
”

Adding a second finger to the first, he pushed deep again, pumping against the stroke of her sex over him. Sliding in and out as her body clenched and clung to him. She was so tight. So soft. So very, very wet. And so incredibly close, it had to be any second and—she was there.

Her body spasmed hard, her lips parting on the silent plea he read all too clearly in her eyes.
Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.

“Not a chance, baby,” he promised, continuing to stroke through the last tremor around his touch.

Brynn didn’t have any idea how long they’d been on the road or how long they had before arriving back at her place, but she figured it was probably at least a few minutes or Ford would have withdrawn the hand currently splayed warm and wide across her butt.
Beneath her panties.

Yeah, no signs of urgency there. Which was good, because she wasn’t certain she could pull it together enough to move if she had to.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, his free hand brushing through her hair where she’d rested her head against his chest.

She nodded, not trusting her voice just yet.

Maybe not quite ready to reveal how much that dirty little interlude was affecting her. Which was a lot.

“Brynn.” She loved the way he said her name, how different it sounded riding the low register. “You’re killing me, hiding your face right now. Come on and let me see you’re okay.”

She blinked, feeling moisture she hadn’t been aware of leaking from the corner of her eyes. Geez, like that was going to reassure him. So trying for inconspicuous, she sort of rubbed her face back and forth against the soft fabric of his shirt and then, planting her hands on his chest, pushed herself up. She was giving him her smile, but despite how incredible those last moments had been, it wobbled. Because this insane little part of her heart was aching with something that felt a lot like loss.

“Hey,” he said, pushing back upright in his seat and wiping his thumb across her cheekbone. “You’re crying, Brynn. I thought—”

“No,” she cut him off, shaking her head and wishing she could hide her face, but knowing he needed to see her. “It’s not what you think. That was amazing. It’s just that it’s been a while for me…and because this is you, I’m a little overwhelmed by my emotions right now.”

“Overwhelmed good or overwhelmed bad?”

She wanted to tell him “Good.” Just smile and kiss along his neck. Fake a normal response to the mind-blowing release she’d just experienced. But this was Ford and if anyone could understand what she was feeling, she thought it would be him.

“Maybe a little of both,” she admitted after a shaky breath. “It felt so good, Ford. Not just the physical act—which really, really was top-notch, I promise—but the
giving in.
It’s been a really long time and—and so yeah, it was overwhelmingly good.”

Catching the sides of her face in his palms, Ford brought her to him for a kiss. Soft and slow, and so completely different from the one that nearly set the limo on fire when they first got in.

“Jesus, Brynn,” he growled against her lips. “You make my heart hurt, but I swear, it’s in the best fucking way.”

The words were too much, signifying more than the
now
they’d just engaged in. But then he was kissing her again. Holding her so close she could feel his heart beating against hers, the need he hadn’t yet released. A knock sounded against the partition and she realized the car had stopped. Ford helped her back onto the seat as she righted her skirt before the glass lowered and he passed a few bills to the driver.

They stepped out of the car and holding Ford’s hand, Brynn backed up the walk, pulling him as she went. Their eyes were locked, the anticipation of what would come next building with every step. Inside, Ford stopped to kiss her against the security door, his hands smoothing up her sides and over her breasts, the heels of his palms rubbing against her aching nipples through her dress and thin bra.

She let out another moan as the contact triggered a domino effect of sensation deep within her, before Ford growled against her mouth and then pulled her toward the stairs.

Twice they stopped, taking advantage of the empty stairwell, getting caught in each other’s arms, in the hot, wet kisses that they’d somehow kept banked until at last they reached her door.

Three flights up, her key already in the lock—and that’s when she realized.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, no doubt feeling her body tense as he was pressed against the back of it, his arm banded around her waist.

She didn’t want to say it. Couldn’t believe she hadn’t considered it, and now they were here and—she was going to look like such a naïve fool. “Condoms,” she said hoarsely. “I—I—”

Oh God, she didn’t want to have to admit it, but there was no way she could forget. “I’m so sorry, Ford. I don’t—um—ever—” She could hardly hear her own voice, but whether that was because of the way her blood was thundering past her ears or because she could barely find the breath to speak, she didn’t know. “Because I haven’t in—er—I—”

Frustrated, she shook her head and met his eyes. “I don’t have any condoms. Because I don’t bring guys home with me. Like I said, it’s been a long time.”

Ford let out a low, warm laugh. “I know I ought to be ashamed of myself, but the caveman in me is kind of beating his chest right now.”

She thought she heard him mutter something about “Safety Sam to the rescue,” but it didn’t make any sense and then he was kissing her again. Kissing her until her shoulders were braced against the door and her leg was hooked around his thigh. Until finally she broke away long enough to ask, “So you have a condom?” Or he knew a store that delivered or something, because as incredible as her release in the car had been, she was already desperate for more.

“Yeah, but only three,” he said, looking sincerely sorry. “I’ll bring more next time, I promise.”

Nodding too fast, Brynn jammed the key in the lock and dragged him inside.

Within the apartment a single low light in the kitchen filtered out into the hall, casting the space around them in soft shadows. Brynn swung the door closed behind them and turned to throw the deadbolt and chain. Three condoms’ worth of fun ahead or not, she’d been living on her own too long to let security slide. Sure, Ford was big and strong, but the guy had better things to do with his night than fight off some jacked-up meth head.

Like burn through three condoms.

That’s what she’d been thinking as she fumbled the security chain once, twice, before getting lucky on the third try. And only then because Ford pressed up against her, his body hot and hard, and taking her hand in his, guided the knob into place.

“Nervous?” he asked against her ear, running his hands over her in a slow caress.

“Yes.” It had been so long and while she imagined the whole sexy good-times business was a lot like riding a bike, she hadn’t had that much practice to begin with. Ford had been her first and they’d done it a sum total of five times before she’d left. There had been others…but to say they were few and far between would be a gross understatement. Ten years later she wouldn’t have the excuse of being a virgin to justify her lack of sexual savvy, and Ford—God, he was so confident and assured. And the way he looked. The way he walked and talked and thought and laughed. The way the women looked at him.

Ford was not hurting for experience. Of this, she was certain.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he asked.

That she wouldn’t measure up? That he’d be disappointed? That she was scared of a dozen different things that may or may not happen to diminish something she desperately wanted to be good?

No way.

“That I don’t want to think at all.” Glancing over her shoulder, she asked, “Can you do that? Can you make it so, for now, tonight, all I do is feel?”

There would be plenty of time to think tomorrow and the day after that.

Ford leaned closer, his big body caging her against the door, his mouth meeting that dangerous spot at the base of her neck and brushing slowly, lightly, back and forth.

“Do you
feel
this?” he asked, continuing to tease the sensitive skin there.

“Yes.” It was crazy how good it felt, how that barest contact caused sensation, warm and thick, to spill through the deepest part of her. How when he opened his mouth, adding the slightest suction, she felt the pull of it at her breasts and between her legs.

“Can you
feel
how bad I want you, Brynn?”

A nod. Because yes, she could feel him pressed hard against her. But even if the steely evidence hadn’t been hot against the small of her back, she would have been able to feel it in the tightening of his arm around her and the possessive flex of his fingers at her hip. Hear it in the deepening of his voice. Sense it from the way every breath seemed to bring them impossibly closer.

“Tell me,” he urged at her ear, sending a thrill through her at the thought her words would mean something to him. “Say it.”

“I can feel you wanting me,” she whispered on a ragged breath.

“Yeah, but can you feel
how much
?” The hand at her hip began a slow roam, circling out from that initial point, fisting and flexing, roving over her ribs, across her belly, and down to her thigh—like he wanted to touch every part of her at once.

Like no single spot would be enough.

Or maybe that was just how she felt. Like she could have all of this man and it still wouldn’t be enough for how badly she wanted him.

Not in one night.

His hands were at either side of her now, running up and down the cut of her waist, flexing against her ass, and then riding up to take the weight of her breasts in his palms.

“Your body is so beautiful,” he growled against her ear. “It always was, but now, fuck, Brynn, the way you curve…perfect.”

The words should have had her tensing up—not because she didn’t like her body, but because she’d been working for years to keep the focus off of it. Only now, it was just Ford and instead of wanting to downplay her womanly shape, she was reveling in it.

Catching the bottom hem of her stretchy dress, he dragged the fabric up, leaving two fingers from each hand trailing behind.

So he could feel the bare skin he was uncovering.

He was brushing past the border of her panties—the plain black cotton bikinis that were the sexiest thing she owned—groaning as he cleared the narrow point at her hip. And then those four trailing fingers were skipping over the rise of her ribs, leaving a path of goose bumps in their wake. Not from the cool air she rationally knew was kissing the skin currently burning under his touch, but from pleasure and anticipation.

“All I’ve been able to think about since that first night was what it would be like to get my mouth on you.” He pulled her dress higher, past the swell of her breasts. Higher still.

Her breath hitched, but she was so caught up in Ford’s seduction, she raised her arms without prompting as he stripped the dress completely free.

“I want to taste all your peaks.” Tugging the cotton of her bra aside, he cupped her breasts and gave in to another one of those deep, rumbling groans when her hardened nipples pressed into his palms. “Lick through your valleys.”

He’d done it once. Kissed her between her legs until she’d cried his name and come so undone, she thought she’d never pull back together again. Even now, she felt herself unraveling at the thought alone. Felt the warm surge of desire flooding her, the needy ache between her legs. The swelling of her most sensitive tissues.

“Ford,” she gasped, when he spun her around and pressed her shoulders into the door behind her. Because,
God,
the way he was looking at her. The heat in his eyes as they raked down her nearly bare body.

She clenched in anticipation and she wondered if it was possible for her to come just from the way he was looking at her.

A sound that was something between pleasure and pain rumbled from deep in his chest, and then he was going to his knees in front of her.

“I can’t wait, Brynn.” His fingers were hooked into the sides of her panties and he was drawing them slowly, almost reverently, down her hips until the wet panel clinging to her sex pulled free. Ford’s gaze locked on her sex and the muscle in his jaw flexed. “Baby, take off your bra for me. I need to see you.”

Flipping the front clasp of her too practical bra, she brushed the straps free of her shoulders and discarded it along with the panties Ford helped her step out of. And then she was naked in front of him. The literal man of her dreams, on his knees, looking at her like he was a single breath away from—

Oh, oh, ooooooh.

One lick. One slow, long, sweet lick and Brynn’s knees buckled and her hands shot out wide in search of something to hold her up. Something to hold on to. Anything to ensure she didn’t fall on the floor before he had a chance to do that again. But Ford had a hold on her hips and she wasn’t going anywhere. Except straight to heaven, because oh, God.
Oh God, oh God, ohgooooood.

“You taste so sweet. Open for me, baby. Let me have some more of you.”

Brynn widened her stance. But it wasn’t what he wanted, because he glanced up at her, wearing another cocky smirk as he shook his head. And then he was taking her hand in his and placing it on his shoulder, while he slid the other behind her knee to hook it over his elbow.

“Like this, baby.”

A part of her wanted to protest. She was a two-feet-on-the-ground kind of girl, looking for stability in every part of her life. But with Ford, where the physical and emotional had irrevocably tangled together, she’d always been a little off balance.

She knew what it was to fall, how much it hurt, but—

Another deep kiss in the place where she was slick with need and desire for him, and her head fell back against the door.

The sweet stroke of his tongue was so good. So decadent. So crazy intense when he gave her the point, circling it around and then using it to thrust inside. He was making love to her with his mouth. Making everything inside of her coil and tighten with each wet velvet stroke. Making her breathless with his kiss until she was clutching at his hair, rocking into his mouth, and—

“Fuck—shoot.
Fudge
—I mean, fud—
oh fuuck.
Ford!” she cried, her entire body clenching in one deep, rhythmic pulse after another. “I can’t—I—I—”

Only whatever she was going to say was lost, as he thrust his firmed tongue inside her again and again and again. There was nothing but the overwhelming sensation of helpless bliss and wild release. The need to collapse and take Ford down with her.

He was suckling against her again, already rebuilding her need.

She wanted his mouth there forever, but even having come twice—both times individually harder than she could remember coming cumulatively in the last ten years—it still wasn’t enough.

“More,” she gasped, mindlessly pulling at him until he released her with a groan and one last languid lick. Then she was wriggling her way down his body, delving her fingers into his hair, so she could hold his head and take the kiss she was starved for.

“Inside me, Ford,” she begged, quivering from the shockingly sexy taste of herself on his lips and tongue. “Please, I need to feel you inside me. Now.”