Relentless Liberation (7 page)

“Tyler!” she squealed. An actual honest-to-God squeal. If
she weren’t so furious at the moment, she would have been mortified by the
sound. “Put me down!”

He ignored her until they were out in the parking lot and
had reached his car. He opened the passenger door, then set her on her feet.

“Get in the car,” he rumbled as his big body crowded her
space. Instinctually, she went to back up but was too close to the car and
tripped. Right into the passenger seat. Bending down, he swung her legs out of
the way, slammed the door shut and was on his way around the car before she
could even process what happened. It was too out of the ordinary to be able to
process with any sort of immediate fluency.

As soon as he got in the car and started the engine, she
glared at him. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you do that?”

“What’s wrong with me? What the fuck’s wrong with you?” he
bit out, maintaining a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. “You ducked
out of the fight without so much as a hi-how-are-ya. I thought you were
supposed to be little Miss Shy and Introverted. But instead, when I finally
catch up to you, I find you at some skeezy club all but having sex on the dance
floor with some fucking prick. And don’t even get me started on what you’re
wearing.”

Shocked, she could only gape at him for a moment before
gathering her thoughts to respond. “Okay, first of all I was not having sex
with him. We were just dancing. You’re acting insane. I didn’t realize I owed
you a play-by-play of my night or that I answered to you. And what’s wrong with
what I’m wearing? I never see you complaining when you’re flirting with all
those skanks who come to the fights. What they wear isn’t much different.”

“Good to see you’re admitting you look like a skank. And no,
I don’t complain because they aren’t you.
This
isn’t you. Why the hell
are you dressed like that?”

An unnamed emotion swept over her in that moment. It had
been running parallel to her anger and it now threatened to eclipse her fury
altogether. Not only had he said she looked like a skank but apparently she
couldn’t pull the look off like those other women. Like it made them sexy but
she just looked like a fool.

Now that she thought about it, maybe the emotion did have a
name. Maybe even a few names.
Dejection, humiliation and unrequited torment
.
What was wrong with her? How had she become so ridiculously unappealing? Why
had she let Chloe talk her into this? And more importantly, after all this time
was she
still
that much of a doormat?

“Maybe I was feeling confined and unvaried,” she said,
softly answering his spoken question as much as she was answering her silent
ones. “Maybe I was tired of being invisible and undesired. I really don’t see
why you care one way or another that I went out tonight, regardless of how I’m
dressed.”

In the middle of her rant they had reached a red light and
when she finally got the courage, she risked a glance at him. It was his turn
to stare at her incredulously with an open-mouthed expression. It might have
been comical if he didn’t then snap his jaw shut and expel a harsh breath
through his nose, once again reminding her of an enraged bull. Was it
masochistic to think that he looked hot as hell when he was pissed off?

“You really feel like that? Invisible and undesired?”

“Yes, all the time,” she answered immediately, without even
having to think about it.

The turn signal that had been clicking to the right to go
toward her apartment suddenly shifted left to go who-knew-where.

Her eyes flicked to his face. “You’re not taking me home?”

“No,” came his clipped reply.

“Then where are we going?”

This time he didn’t even bother with a response, just
pressed on the accelerator and made the left turn when the light turned green.

Okay, so obviously he was still pissed off. But how was she
supposed to know he would react like this? Why he was even entitled to such a
violent reaction was still beyond her. She felt like a recalcitrant child about
to be scolded. Then something occurred to her.

“How’d you know where we were anyway? That I hadn’t just
gone home?”

“Brian.” Again with the one-word answers. But she supposed
in this instance he didn’t need to elaborate. That would explain why, when
Tyler was manhandling her out of the club, she saw Brian and Chloe verbally
going at it again. So much for his promise to keep their location on the down-low.

The rest of the car ride passed in tense silence. He was so
steadfastly ignoring her that she found it pointless to open her mouth again.
And if he clenched his jaw any tighter she was sure it would shatter.

Eventually they turned onto a quiet, well-lit street. About
halfway down the block, he pulled into a driveway, clicked a button inside the
car and the garage door opened. Into the garage they went, the sound of the
heavy door closing behind them ominous.

“Um, Tyler,” she bit her lip, nervous all of a sudden, “where
are we?” She’d been too hurt, angry and preoccupied to give much thought to
what they were going to do once they reached their mysterious destination. Now myriad
possibilities raced through her mind. None of them good.

But this was Tyler she was talking about here. He wouldn’t hurt
her, so why was she suddenly so apprehensive?

“My house.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, then barked, “Get out
of the car.”

So maybe his tone wasn’t helping at all with the
aforementioned apprehension.

He got out of the car and slammed the door behind him before
pacing over to the door to the house. Opening it, he flicked the hall light on,
then turned to wait for her, his muscular arms folded across his chest.

For one stubborn moment she debated the merits of defying
him by staying in the car. He was acting so strangely that
she
didn’t
know how to act. When he arched his eyebrow at her hesitancy, she figured that
if she sat there any longer he’d probably just stalk over to her and yank her
out of the car himself. So really, her ass was getting out of this car one way
or another and she preferred to do it on her own.

Tentatively, she got out and stood before him, raising her
own eyebrow. That slow, sensuous smile of his was all the warning she got
before he pulled her inside, slammed the door behind her, then pinned her
against its hard surface. He crowded into her, bracketing his arms on either
side of her against the door.

“Tyler, wha—”

“Shhh,” he whispered, shaking his head and pressing his hard
body into hers. “I don’t want you to talk anymore. Nothing you’ve said tonight
makes any goddamn sense. So I want you to just listen.” His hands landed on her
hips, then began to travel south until they hooked around her thighs.

Then he was lifting her up and, unbelievably, wrapping her
legs around his waist. She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d slapped her.

“I want you to just feel, baby.”

She whimpered at the term of endearment that just rolled off
his tongue, as though he addressed her that way all the time. He’d never called
her anything other than Mina and she wanted to bask in his husky voice throwing
out words like
baby
.

Wait though. Hadn’t there been that one time, outside of her
fantasies, that he’d called her that? The night of his birthday maybe? Memories
of that night were so fuzzy she couldn’t be sure that it hadn’t been a dream.
Just like this probably was. She fully expected to wake up in the break room at
work with drool on her mouth and an ache in her pussy from having had
that
dream again.

Those warm, strong hands on her thighs pushing her skirt up
felt very real and she had a moment of panic. What was he doing? Surely this
wasn’t how he’d treat his sister—if he had one—was it? No, she knew he didn’t
feel this way about her, so there had to be something else going on. Then a
horrible thought occurred to her and something akin to dread coursed through
her system.

“Are you drunk?” Never mind that he’d just driven the whole
way from the club to his house and he’d seemed perfectly sober. There had to be
something making him act this way and he’d admitted himself that alcohol
affected him differently than other people. He wouldn’t just
do
this.

He flashed her that beautiful smile. “No baby, I’m not
drunk.” Wow, there was that word again.

“High then? Temporarily insane?”

The smile slipped from his face and he growled, the sound
predatory. “What I am is hard.” Bending his knees, he pushed up until the rigid
length of his impressive erection was pressed tight up against her core.
Holy
shit
. He wasn’t lying. “Every fucking inch of my cock is so damn hard.”

He punctuated his statement by rocking into her, letting her
feel the truth of his words sliding against her now-drenched pussy.

“Do you feel it, Mina?” Oh God, she did. Even through the
thick layer of his jeans and the thin barrier of her panties she could feel how
hot he was.

Hooking her ankles behind his back to hold her still, he
freed one of his hands and brought it to her chin to meet her gaze. “I’ve been
like this since I stepped into the ring. I took one look at you and almost got
my ass handed to me. You’re so fucking sexy it’s distracting.”

Gasping, she tried to wrench her chin away from his hold.
That couldn’t be true. She couldn’t look at him.
How could I look at him?
He wouldn’t let her go so she lowered her eyes. “Don’t say things you don’t
mean, Tyler.”

“Does this feel, what was that word you liked? Ah yeah,
disingenuous.” He rocked his hips into her harder. “Look at me.” His tone
brooked no argument, so she forced her eyes to meet his. “I want you to feel
it, baby, because it’s all for you. All your fault I’m feeling like this.”

She had no response as his gaze continued to hold hers,
refusing to let go. Tyler had never lied to her before. Why would he lie now?
To what end? Surely he wouldn’t throw their friendship away just because he was
horny and she seemed like a willing outlet.

Cautiously, as though not to scare her, he dipped his head
until their lips touched softly, just a mere brush of flesh against flesh. Her
eyes remained open and trained on his. She was still unable to believe that
this was actually happening.

“Trust me, Mina,” he whispered before he pressed another
light kiss onto her lips. “I swear I won’t hurt you.”

This time his tongue swept across the seam of her lips,
begging entrance. On an unintelligible whimper, she opened for him and closed
her eyes, granting him the trust he’d asked for. The moment she capitulated, he
swept in and dominated her mouth. He ground his lower body into hers as their
tongues played a wicked game, causing her to squirm and moisture to run down
her crease.

Wondering and guessing what Tyler would taste like paled in
comparison to reality. He was like heaven in her mouth, all cinnamon and dark
spices, which played havoc with her senses and had her instantly addicted.

Freeing her arms from the prison he’d created, she lifted
her hands to run her fingers through his hair to pull him closer.

The hand that had been cupping her jaw trailed down her neck,
then lower as his fingers played with the neckline of her tank. Those devious
fingers continued downward, running light circles around her budding nipple,
arousing it into a hard peak before he took it between his thumb and forefinger
and pinched. The sting sent a hard jolt straight to her clit, leaving warm
tingles in its wake.

She gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the sound as that
hand moved lower to where his body was grinding deliciously into hers. The tips
of his fingers skated over her lower belly and up under her skirt to draw a
firm line down her slit through her panties.

“Damn, baby.” He broke the kiss and dragged his finger up to
center on her clit, rubbing in slow, intoxicating circles. “You’re already so
wet for me. But I’m gonna make it worse.” Moving the crotch of her drenched
panties out of the way, his seeking digit found and rimmed her entrance.

Slowly, that thick finger slid into her cunt, making her
groan and cling to him tighter. “I’m gonna make you come a couple of times, get
this tight little pussy wet and open enough to take my cock. Because, Mina,” he
caught her gaze with his, the intensity of the stare unbreakable, “I
am
going to fuck you.”

God, the words that came out of his mouth. Usually when he
spoke to her, the words he chose were cultured and sweet. So much so that she
knew he did it on purpose, to prove to her that he wasn’t that illiterate
Neanderthal she had first feared him to be. She never would have guessed how
explicit he could be, or that he would ever share this side of himself with
her.

The finger inside her began to move back out just as slowly
as he’d pushed it in. Adding a second, he slid them home and Mina cried out as
her body arched off the door. It had been so long for her that even this much
of him filling her up stretched and burned. But it was so good when he curled
his fingers and pumped steadily in and out, brushing her clit with his palm and
never once taking his gaze from hers.

She moaned and rocked her hips, meeting his digits thrust
for thrust. “That’s right,” he whispered, kissing and nipping at her lips.
“Work yourself on my fingers.” Thumb finding her clit, he rubbed in tight
circles in time to the frantic rhythm they had created. “Come for me.”

It was as if she had waited forever for this to happen,
never in a million years thinking that it actually would. She had brought
herself off so many times—more than she could count—just thinking about his
strength, the way she wished he would look at her, the way she longed to hear
him say her name.

The sound of his sinfully deep voice in her ear commanding
her to do something so illicit and naughty was enough. Let alone the fact that
it was really Tyler who was pressing her up against this door, touching her
like this. She had never stood a chance of denying him anything he wanted.