Chapter 10
Emee
The firefighters finally confirm there is no fire, but apparently I can’t get back inside for an unknown period of time.
I stand there, feeling lost. Traffic speeds by, pigeons pecking at the sidewalk, all oblivious to my world falling apart.
Until warm fingers weave through mine.
“Come.” King’s lids are heavy as he nods down the street.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he pulls me along beside him, walking back toward the front of the building as the firefighters file back outside, clearing people from other floors to go back to work.
I need to figure out what’s next. My breathing picks up, my chest getting tight as panic has sweat breaking out on my forehead.
Everything is out of order. There are so many unknowns.
King is dragging me down the sidewalk toward an enormous blue truck.
“You’re coming with me. I’m not leaving you here like this.”
“But, no. I have my car, I need to go home, change clothes at least, try to—”
“You have car keys? Apartment keys?” He looks down at me, raising his eyebrows on a smug look as my shoulders fall, realizing how much this fire-non-fire situation is going to upend my orderly life. “That’s what I thought.”
I skip a few steps, trying to keep up as my eyes take in the way his t-shirt clings to his back, showing off the definition of each muscle and the width of his shoulders. The morning has taken such a bizarre turn, but somehow I feel like I’m riding an exciting, forbidden wave.
“Up you go.” He swings open the door to his truck as I reach for the handle to pull myself up. His hands steady around my hips, heaving me into the seat like I’m a powder puff, the same way he flipped me over on the bed.
Like I’m weightless—and helpless—in his hands.
“You look good sitting in my truck.” He winks before closing the door, and I both love and hate how much those little comments affect me.
I gulp as he jogs around the front of the truck, pushing his wet hair back as he goes.
Once inside, he pushes the ignition, but instead of putting the vehicle into drive, he reaches over, resting his hand on my shoulder with a hot stare.
His eyes drift to my chest, my nipples clearly hard and visible through the wet fabric layers as the thrumming below my belly button turns into a focused drumbeat, centered on my clit.
“What do you know about me?” he asks in a low, rumbling tone.
“Just the information I received from Dr. Hoffman. You are a hockey player with the Blades, you’ve had some issues with your temper, and the team needs you back on the ice.” I shrug, unsure where this is going.
“You didn’t look me up or do any research on your own?”
“No. I want to know each client for who they are with me. I don’t need third party information or speculation. It messes with the energy flow.”
“I’m just a client?”
“Well.” I tip my head as his hand on my shoulder radiates heat onto my chilled skin. “No one is just a client, and from what’s happened this morning both in my office and with the fire, I’d say you are a teensy bit more than a just a client at this point. Sort of trauma bonding.”
I tug back my smile as he nods, sucking air through his teeth.
“I agree with the bonding part. But, I don’t think what we did up there traumatized you. Or maybe I do.” He flashes a playful smile with a wink. “You ever been to a hockey game?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I’ve even watched one on purpose before. I just know there’s lots of fights, ice and a puck that goes in a net.”
He considers that for a second, before his hand lowers to cover where my heart is racing. I realize he’s mimicking the way I touched him and asked him questions upstairs.
“Have you always been in control?”
I draw my knees together to stem the growing tension as his lips curl into that cocky smile.
“I guess.” I do a quick assessment of my youth. “Yes, I had to be.”
“How so?”
His questions are hitting the same sort of buttons I aim for with my clients, but I don’t feel manipulated. I feel seen and heard. Like I haven’t in a long time.
“Oh, you know. Parents that didn’t do a lot of parenting. I was in charge of my brother, pretty much from the time I could make a bowl of cereal and help him with his homework.”
And he made sure when my father needed to take his anger out on one of us, it was always him, so I for sure got the better end of the deal.
“You have one sibling? Younger, I assume.”
I shake my head as heat blooms in my chest under his hand, while the other rests on the steering wheel. His long, dangling fingers, crisscrossed with veins, are as sexy as that chipped tooth.
“Yes, just one. Benjamin. Older. Two years, actually.”
“Interesting.” He shifts in his seat and I can’t help myself. I let my eyes drift to his lap and see that outline again, an erection that has to be Guinness World Records worthy. “You like to please, too.”
It’s a statement this time, not a question, but I nod anyway.
Because I want to please him.
“You’re going to please me often.” His voice turns into a thick drawl. “You’ll like that, won’t you? Pleasing me.”
I curl my toes in my squishy tennis shoes as his blue eyes center on mine. It feels like he is getting bigger, or the space inside the truck is getting smaller.
I swallow hard, silently chastising my body for its reaction to him. My cheeks are hot. My panties wet, and not from the sprinklers. My nipples are hard, and my brain is short-circuiting.
“You can answer that without saying anything, firecracker.” His hand wanders down my chest, turning the backs of his fingers toward me, brushing them over my tingling nipple. I clench from teeth to toes as they dance over my stomach without hesitation, then finally come to rest under the hem of my t-shirt, on the waistband of my drenched sweats. “Lean back.”
His other hand darts out, grabbing my leg behind the knee and tugging me forward.
I shoot a look out the windows at the firemen and a few lingering onlookers. “Wait, there’s people—”
“Tinted windows, baby. I’ll never let anyone see what’s mine. I’m greedy that way.”
“You’re a client…” I whimper in disbelief that I’m once again being helplessly swept under King’s lust tide. I drop my head back against the seat cushion as he takes control of my left leg, pulling it forward as the fingers hooked in the elastic of my pants and tug.
“You keep saying that, but I can be a client and something else. I don’t like labels. I’m just going to touch you, baby. You’ll answer my question with my fingers.”
I feel like I’m suffocating in the thick tension. He’s so…entitled. But with him, it’s sexy, not creepy. I feel safe in a way I can’t remember feeling before.
Exposed, but secure.
The look he gives me is shameless as he pulls my pants and my clinging underwear down. The fabric peeling from my damp flesh, goosebumps prickling everywhere as the cool air from the vent in the dash blows over my bare flesh.
He takes a deep breath and holds it as I press my knees tight.
“My answer is between your legs, baby.” Danger dances in his blue eyes. “Spread your legs.”
Good Lord, what is happening to me? Without protest, my knees inch apart as his gaze roves over me, leaving heat wherever it touches.
My thighs tremble, the primal parts of me responding to this primitive, chaotic monster of a man. I want this. I want him to take control, pin me down and satisfy me with a rough claiming that will leave no doubt I belong to him now.
I don’t want to be in charge. I want to know what it’s like to let go. Really let go.
“You’re going to destroy me,” I whisper as his hands spread me wide for his eyes to devour.
“You’ve already done that to me, baby,” he rasps, dragging the knuckles of one hand up the damp flesh of my inner thigh. “When you creamed for me, calling my name, I was done for.”
My heart is beating as fast as hummingbird wings as sweat breaks out on my forehead.
He smiles, his fingers meeting the soft curls on my outer lips.
“God, I love that you’re all natural for me.” Satisfaction softens his eyes as his fingers brush back and forth on my pubic hair, making me hiss and grab onto the tense muscle of his forearms. Scorching, forbidden heat reaches up and grabs me by the throat as he eases the backs of two fingers between my folds.
His touch is excruciatingly slow, as his handsome features tense, the column of his neck lengthening along with the column of hard flesh under his sweats.
“Oh, God,” I stutter, my fingers digging hard into his flesh as I press my head back into the door.
“King, baby, not God.” He angles his hip between my spread legs, his long torso coming forward as his mouth crushes against mine. His fingers ease into my opening, prodding, pushing, until I feel them inside me as his tongue lashes with mine.
A deep moan rumbles out of him and into our kiss as his fingers slide inside me, my body welcoming the intrusion with wet heat and soft moans.
He explores there for a thrust, two, three, then glides upward, our mouths moving against each other in warm urgent breaths until he finds that demanding nub.
“So tight.” He growls. “Anyone ever touched you like this before, firecracker?”
I shake my head, and I swear his chest fills with victory. Dating was not on my agenda when I was younger. Taking care of my brother and getting my degrees left little time or energy for the wild west of sex and relationships.
“I’m going to be the only one. First and last, baby. I’ll take good care of this little kitty.” He pulls back, leaving me breathless, mouth open, his jaw flexing as he grinds his knuckles on my clit. “You want that, don’t you? For this cherry to be mine to take.” His voice seeps down into the marrow of my bones and my voice is gone.
My brain is mush.
“Your pussy is giving me a resounding yes.” He focuses his stare between my legs. “That’s the most beautiful shade of pink in the world.”
His words light a fire inside me, the aching in my core incessantly demanding its needs be fulfilled.
“Mine now,” he rumbles without looking up. “Your pussy pleases me. Just like you will in so many ways, doc.”
My eyes roll back as he circles that sensitive spot until I see stars. The air feels thin as his face hovers over mine.
“So close. Please…” The inner drive for relief releases my grip on my last thread of control.
“Ah, see, you are pleasing me already. Good girls always say please.”
Heat licks at my belly, spreading over my flesh until I’m teetering on the edge.
“Lose control, firecracker. Right here in the front seat of my truck. With people right outside. Fill my hand.”
My mind and heart struggle against the tide when he moves his lips to my ear. “No one will ever touch you the way I do. From now on, baby, this pussy belongs to me.”
His words crack like a whip down low, and I’m in free fall, his lips burrowing into the hollow of my neck, exploding the nerve endings into fractured prickles of heat.
He’s a client, and we are in a truck with people just outside the window, but my body doesn’t care.
It wants to please this man, and as many times as I tell myself I should not be turned on, I am.
So. Turned. On.
This is crazy. Maybe the craziest thing I’ve done in my life.
But, there’s a voice inside me saying, let go.
And I do.
As I fall into the light, my muscles spasm and his fingers move to cup my sex, the base of his palm taking point on the exploding center of my pleasure while my orgasm crests. Heat and wetness spill out of me in waves as I turn into a sightless, boneless, brainless, out of control mess.
“That’s my girl. You just filled my hand. I’ve got all the answers I need.”
His eyes are feasting on me as he brings his soaking hand to his mouth, slowly licking his palm and every finger.
“That’s how a good girl tastes. My good girl.”