• Eighteen •
“Do you think about having that pretty pink cunt licked?”
Capri
Drying my hair with a towel after a long, hot shower, I stared at the door leading into the rest of the suite from the room I was sleeping in. Thoughts of Thatcher seemed to be all I could dwell on. Even when I tried to focus on my race today, my head always went right back to him. It was hard not to. He made me feel like a teenage girl with a crush. The kind that you fantasized about, but knew there was no chance it would ever become reality.
I was a grown woman, and it was just sad that I couldn’t seem to get my head straight with that man. I should start dating. I wouldn’t race again for the Shephard Ranch until November. They wouldn’t require me there often. Miller hadn’t even mentioned me coming over to ride Zephyr at all. I’d hoped that Thatcher would bring it up tonight, but he hadn’t. Maybe on the flight home tomorrow, he would.
Dropping the towel on the bed, I grabbed a brush and ran it through my hair until the tangles were gone. I needed a glass of water before finally climbing into bed. I’d drunk more lemon drops than anything this evening, and my mouth felt parched. I hadn’t drunk nearly enough water today.
I went to open the door and glanced around to see the lights were off, and the area was illuminated by the city that never slept outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Walking quietly over to the bar, I took a glass and opened the ice maker to fill it before adding water. It was going to be hard to go back to my house after being spoiled, staying here. This was a level of luxury I’d never had a taste of, and I had to admit, I liked it. I knew that it wouldn’t always be like this when I rode for others, and I shouldn’t get used to it.
I took a drink from the glass, then turned around and almost dropped it. Instead of the glass shattering on the floor at my feet, Thatcher’s hand wrapped around it as I stared up at him with my heart now racing in my chest. I hadn’t heard him walk out of his room, much less move in so close behind me.
“You scared me,” I gasped.
“Good.”
He smelled amazing. I inhaled the clean scent of his soap, and then my eyes dropped to his bare chest. The sight of the small barbell in his nipple up close had me sucking in my next breath. Dear Lord, his chest was the kind of chiseled perfection that sculptures were made of. Unable to stop myself, I continued greedily taking him in as my eyes moved lower until the towel that was wrapped around his waist left me frozen. He’d come out here in only a towel. I couldn’t breathe.
“I, uh, um, I …” The words came out in a breathless stammer as my face grew hot.
I’d never been this close to an almost-naked man before and most assuredly not one who looked like Thatcher Shephard.
He lifted his arm, and I watched him take a drink from my glass of ice water he’d saved from crashing to the marble floor. In the shadows, his eyes reminded me of black velvet, and I was mesmerized. I should be moving. Getting some distance. Rushing back to the safety of my room. Yet here I was, fighting the urge to bury my face in his chest and soak it all in.
“Thirsty, little doll?” His voice was deep and raspy, causing me to visibly shiver.
Now, I was covered in goose bumps. I hoped he couldn’t see it in the dark. I had already embarrassed myself enough.
I nodded, not sure I trusted my voice.
He stepped closer, and my entire body tingled with excitement as he placed the glass on the bar behind me. I wanted to touch him so badly that my hands were fisted at my sides to keep from doing it. He was so warm … and hard … and broad. The cedar and spice scent of his skin felt as if it were wrapping around me. My eyes fluttered as I inhaled. God, that was good.
Strong hands grabbed my waist, and my eyes snapped open as I was lifted from the ground and placed on the smooth granite of the countertop behind me. I still had to tilt back my head a fraction to meet his gaze, but I was closer to eye level now. I could feel the warmth from his breath on my cheek.
“You shouldn’t walk around with so little covering your body.”
The threat in his tone didn’t frighten me, or perhaps it did, but that emotion paled to the crazed fever that was surging just beneath my skin. His hands moved to my bare thighs as he dropped his gaze to where my sleep shorts had ridden up.
My lips parted as I began to pant while watching his fingers slide up the inside of my legs. I had experienced the ache between my legs before. I knew how to give myself an orgasm. But, holy crap, I hadn’t known it could feel this intense.
“Will you go back to bed and play with your pussy?” he asked me, his gaze flicking up to meet mine.
I swallowed, then continued to breathe hard.
“Do you slide one of your dainty fingers inside, or is rubbing your clit enough?”
I managed to blink as I stared at him, unable to speak. Trying to make words come out of my mouth wasn’t my biggest concern here. There was a good chance I was going to combust on the spot with just the sound of his gravelly voice and unrestrained carnal gleam in his eyes. Everything I’d ever been taught about sin, Satan, and hell all seemed less threatening in this moment.
He lowered his head until his breath was hot on my ear. “Tell me, little doll, how do you like to touch your pussy?”
A tremor ran through my body as my eyes fluttered closed. At any moment, the tight coil was going to snap, and I’d climax. If he kept talking, breathing, just simply standing here, I’d get there. How did he do that? I had never known a man could bring you this close to an orgasm without even doing anything between your legs. Maybe I was more naive than I’d realized. Not that I cared at the moment.
“Do you think about having that pretty pink cunt licked? Is that what gets you off? Or do you want it fucked?” He pressed a kiss to my ear.
I moaned, leaning into him. Ready to beg him to do something. If he just brushed a finger against me, I was sure I’d explode.
“Whose dick is it? Hmm? Tell me, little doll. When you spread your legs and play, who are you fantasizing about? Who is taking this cunt? Slamming his cock inside your tight hole over and over while you scream?”
The jolt startled me even though I had known I was close. A cry tore from my chest, and I grabbed on to his arms, burying my nails into his biceps as my body shuddered through the delicious shiver that raced through me. I fought to catch my breath as I held on to him.
His sudden movement snapped my eyes open, and as my vision cleared, I let out a whimper at the sight of Thatcher’s bare back as he walked away. My eyes stung with disappointment. Had I done something wrong? I didn’t even know how to ask that. It had been him saying those naughty things. I hadn’t made him do that.
The slamming of his door as he disappeared inside the room was the slap in the face I needed to break the orgasm haze that had been lingering over me. Now, I was just left with humiliation as it weaved its way into every pore of my body.
Sleep should have come for me easy last night. It normally did after a race day. However, I’d lain in bed for hours before finally falling asleep. Replaying everything that had happened with Thatcher. Trying to understand why he’d walked away. If I had done something to anger him.
As I stood in the suite with the handle of my rolling suitcase clutched firmly in my hand, my eyes slowly scanned the empty space. Thatcher’s bedroom door was open, but the lights were off. I knew without looking that he wasn’t in there. I was alone. When had he left? Last night? This morning? Would he be waiting in the plane? Maybe he had stepped out to get coffee … or he was checking out downstairs.
A knock at the door broke the silence surrounding me, and I swung my gaze to stare at the double doors. Was that him? No. He had a key. He wouldn’t knock. Letting go of the handle on my suitcase, I walked over and opened the right door. The familiar face of our driver stared back at me.
“Miss Jewel,” he said with a nod of his head. “Are you ready?”
Thatcher had left. The heavy disappointment settled over my chest. I gave him a nod and forced a smile. Perhaps he’d be on the plane, but that was hard to truly hang on to. Why would he leave early to just go sit on a plane?
“Let me get my suitcase,” I told him.
“I can get it,” he said, stepping inside, and I moved out of his way so he could go retrieve it. “Is this everything?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
He gave me a kind smile, then headed back to the door that I was still holding open. He waved a hand at me to go first. Leaving the place where I’d made memories, however small they were, with Thatcher made my throat tighten. This might have been the only time I would get with him.
His leaving without a word meant something, and it wasn’t good. He might have started whatever we had done last night, but I shouldn’t have allowed it. That did not give him a right to be mad at me, and maybe he wasn’t. Perhaps it was just him worried I would think it meant something more. I wasn’t stupid. I was aware that he had many different females in his bed. What he’d done to me was nothing compared to what he did with them.
Was it that he thought I would get clingy? He had run so he didn’t have to deal with me? I was so inexperienced that I’d orgasmed without him even touching me, so clearly, I must have believed we were now headed down the aisle.
Clenching my teeth, I stepped into the elevator. Even if he thought I would misunderstand what he’d said to me last night, I didn’t deserve him running off without even telling me his plans had changed.
The next time I saw him, I would act as if last night had never happened. It would be business as usual. Then, I’d keep my distance from him. That was what I should have done to begin with.