Tess #2
“Tell me about it.” He sounded more relieved than I liked.
He didn’t get to be relieved. Not when I was still tied up in knots.
“Her showing up out of nowhere is fucked up—and no, I don’t agree you were as blindsided as I was, because I was the one completely in the dark—but also the whole thing is fucked up, Scott.
An arranged marriage? That’s the stuff of fiction, not real life. ”
“It’s my real life.”
Oh, no. There it was. The urge to feel sorry for him.
I threw my head back and covered my mouth with my hands, as if that could suffocate the feelings inside before they became anything.
But they were already there, alive and beating against my chest like the djembe drummers at the Times Square subway station.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” And what would have changed if he had? Would I have resisted the pull between us? Would I have said, hey, open relationship means open bed?
The look Scott gave me said he also saw the futility.
“What was I supposed to say? I’m really into you, and oh, by the way, I might be engaged to your boss except not really because if she ever shows up again, I’m going to tell her the deal’s off, and yeah, I must be fucking crazy because I’m throwing away my life’s ambitions for a girl I’ve only known for three weeks. ”
My breath stuttered as tiny fireworks went off in my chest.
Nope, nope, nope. I wasn’t special. I couldn’t be special. “There’s really nothing between you and Kendra?”
“Nothing.”
“You told me you’d fucked her.”
“Two years ago when we were both tipsy at a party. I’ve hardly spoken to her since.”
Whoa. There was something in the world that belonged more to me than to Kendra Montgomery. And it was Scott Sebastian. Her fiancé.
I sank down on the floor and leaned my back against the bed.
It would have been easier if he were simply a cheater. It would be easier to hate him. I’d feel played, and that would be heartbreaking, but that was a wound I was used to. I knew the steps to recovery.
Feeling wanted, now that was something I had very little experience with.
I peered up at him. He was devastating with his blue eyes and beardy face and pouty lips.
Beyond his ridiculously hot looks and his on-point charm, was there something there?
My gut said so. As annoying as his interruptions had been in my pitch meetings, he’d always had the most thoughtful comments, showing snippets of what must be a complicated and fascinating mind.
And the way he’d been with Teyana at the opera, saying and doing the right thing for her without smothering or domineering like so many other men had done.
And how he let me glimpse moments of vulnerability when he talked about his father and being stuck in his job.
I’d only seen the trailer for Scott Sebastian, but I was already sure I’d love the whole film.
“Are you really thinking about throwing it all away?” It came out tentative and wistful and also a bit incredulous. Because it was a stupid thing for him to consider for a girl he’d just met, and I was scared that he meant it.
But also, I wished that he did. And that scared me too.
He slid down the door until he was on the floor, the same way I had when I’d come to the room to cry, except instead of curling up in a ball, he bent one knee and stretched the other long leg out in front of him so that all I’d have to do was lean forward and I could touch the sole of his designer dress shoe.
“At least,” he said after thoughtful consideration, “put it on pause.”
Well, that was more reasonable. And vague. And still the only thing I wanted to know was, “Because of me?”
He nodded.
“We don’t even know what this is.” And what were we even talking about? He’d put off his engagement and we’d...what? We barely knew each other.
But he knew me better than Kendra.
“I know I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he said.
“And that might be all it is.”
“Or it could be more. I’ve never wanted to find out before.”
My stupid heart did a backflip. “And now you do.”
“Yes. I want to see. If you’ll let me.”
The enormity of his statement pushed my eyes to study the floor. Those weren’t player words. They were actually the opposite of player words. Most men I fell for were all, This isn’t serious. It’s all just fun. Don’t you dare try to wonder what else we could be.
I’d never once heard one of them say, Let’s see.
Immediately, I found ways to diminish what he was saying. He’d never wanted more than casual before because he hadn’t heard the ticking of the clock. This most likely had nothing to do with me. It would have been whomever he happened to bed next. This was about feeling trapped.
Though he did say the engagement discussion happened three months ago. Surely there had been other women between then and me.
I lifted my head again. As soon as our eyes caught, there it was—the blaze of desire, as instant and intense as a lit match meeting gas. His pupils darkened. A hum began low in my belly, ancient and primal in tone.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, his gaze penetrating.
“I’m an idiot.”
“For getting involved with me?”
“For that, and for still being...affected by you.” We both knew affected was code for turned-on. “When she’s down the hall. How fucked up is that?”
I didn’t think it was possible, but his eyes went even darker. “That doesn’t make you fucked up or an idiot. You feel that way because you’re a kinky goddess. One of the reasons I’m so affected by you.”
Yep, fire. He and I sharing space always ended up with us in flames.
I jumped to my feet. “You should go.”
He rose slowly, somehow managing to be closer to me than before when he was standing. “Okay. I said I would.”
“You did.” I couldn’t tell if he’d stepped forward or if I had.
“Do you want me to?”
I nodded. Emphatically. “No.”
Flame drawn to flame, his lips crashed into mine, eager and greedy and out of control.
There was very little foreplay. We’d already done that with our eyes and our words and our being in the same room.
It already felt too long since we’d touched.
Too long since I’d felt whole and perfect, his cock filling the parts of me that now felt achingly empty.
We weren’t wasting another minute before he was inside me again.
“Fuck, your ass,” he said, my dress around my waist, his hands wrapped around me and stuck down my panties to grab my cheeks. Whatever else he wanted to say about it was swallowed in a molten-hot kiss. The stiff rod grinding against my belly told me it was a fair guess that my ass made him hot.
I gave up on undoing his shirt buttons and moved to work on his belt.
As soon as he was unfastened enough to get down his pants, I stroked my hand inside his boxer briefs, desperate to feel the hot column of flesh.
Just touching the smooth skin with my palm made my pussy throb and weep and need, need, need.
Abruptly, Scott broke away. “Turn around.” He was already turning me.
When I was facing the bed, he reached both arms around and plumped my breasts through the dress.
My nipples turned into sharp darts as he pinched them between his fingertips.
(Hallelujah for tits that could handle going braless!) Then, he tugged the silky material down so that he could touch me skin-to-skin as he rutted against my backside.
I glanced down to watch as he roughly fondled my tits like they were melon-sized stress balls, designed to be squeezed and toyed with and handled. When I whimpered, he growled then pushed between my shoulder blades, bending me over until my forearms hit the mattress.
I next felt his hands at my hips where his fingers hooked into my panties. Wriggling, I helped him pull them down. A rustle of fabric afterward, and I was sure his own pants were down, his cock free. I lifted my ass and spread my legs, making room for him, inviting him into my aching pussy.
His fingers came first. Two solid digits sawing in and out of me. “You’re dripping, Tessa. All for me?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been wet like this for me? All night? Before you knew the truth or after?”
Oh, God. “Before. All night.” From the moment I saw him at another woman’s side. Didn’t matter if he was unavailable, as long as he was in the room, my body was tuned in and turned on.
“Me too, baby. As soon as I turned and saw you in this fuck-tight dress. Your tits pressing against that thin fabric like they wanted to be seen. Your bare neck... I wanted to decorate it white.”
If he kept talking dirty to me like this, I was going to be done before he even got in me. And I really needed him to be in me, and not just with his fingers.
“Give me what I really want,” I begged, contradicting my words by chasing his hand as it pulled away because hey, anything was better than being empty.
“What is that?”
“You.”
“Me, how? Another finger?” Two fingers became three, not nearly an adequate substitution for the thickness of his cock.
I wouldn’t get it until I asked for it. Those were the rules. I knew that about him. “I want your cock. I want you to fuck me.”
“Good girl. I want that too.”
The praise brought relief because I knew that what would follow would be reward.
His fingers pushed in again, then dragged out slowly until they were completely gone.
They reappeared in front of my face, a silent command to suck him clean, which I did eagerly, my body shuddering as he moaned.
Behind me, I could feel his shaft jerk against my upper thigh, teasing me with pleasure yet to come.