Chapter Two #2
“Are you interested in getting a tattoo?” That searching gaze scanned me, head to toe, leaving me breathless. “I don’t see any, unless they’re hidden under those clothes.”
My face heated. “I’ve never had one.” I paused. “Yet.” I circled the table, and his expression darkened.
“Is that why you came here? To suss me out about getting ink?”
“No.” I crossed my arms, fixing him with what I hoped was a fierce scowl. “I didn’t like your assumptions. That I’m snobby and rich and a WASP. Which I’m not. I’m Jewish.”
“So what?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What does that mean, so what? You made this assumption that because my name is Bailey, I’m a rich, snooty WASP. I’m telling you I’m not.”
He shrugged. “Okay. You’re not. Why does it matter what I thought?”
Damn. Keston should’ve been a lawyer—the way he twisted arguments into knots. “It doesn’t, but I didn’t like your insinuations. You don’t know me at all.”
His lips kicked up in a smile that rendered me speechless.
Something that never happened. “I think I do. You come from a nice, middle-class home. Mommy and Daddy love you. You’ve always had a house, and your own room, and you’ve never had to worry where your next meal is coming from or how to pay your bills. ”
I didn’t bother to dispute his assumptions because it wouldn’t matter what I said. “And you didn’t have any of that.”
Without answering and with a face filled with fury and pain, Keston strode off and into the room from which he’d first appeared.
Grady had spoken frankly and often about his youth, how he and Keston hadn’t known of each other’s existence and that their mother had put them into foster care.
Until they’d become emancipated, neither had led an easy life, but where Grady freely opened up about his experiences, it looked like Keston had no such desire.
I had two choices: either walk away and forget about the sexiest, most intriguing man I’d ever met, or follow him and push his buttons to see what would happen next.
I found him standing in the darkened office, staring into space. He whipped around, his expression a dangerous storm of emotions.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” he asked, but his hands were already reaching for my face, and I melted into his touch.
“Damned if I know,” I murmured. His hot mouth slammed on mine, and I sucked his velvety tongue.
I fisted his shirt and rubbed up on him.
Our tongues teased and danced, and he bit my lips.
Desperate, I shivered with desire. “Oh, God.” I clutched his heavily muscled shoulders and buried my face in his neck, sucking at the rapidly pumping vein. “Fucking hell.”
“Which is it, God or hell?” His wicked smile sent me reeling. “Opposite sides of the spectrum.”
“Are we getting it on or having a philosophy lesson?” I panted. “Who cares?”
My hands slid under his waistband and shimmied those sweats and briefs past his hips until they puddled at his ankles.
Perfect washboard abs. That delicious V leading to the most beautiful dick I’d ever seen greeting my hungry eyes.
Where only moments ago his eyes glinted black with anger, they now turned hazy with lust as he tugged my joggers down.
I dug my fingers into those powerful biceps and pulled him closer.
He dipped his head and took my mouth, bruising my lips with his hard, demanding kisses.
I wrapped my fingers around his cock, which pulsed beneath my touch.
“Fuck, your mouth is fire,” he grunted, hips thrusting, his leaking cock sliding in and out of my hand. He yanked down my briefs and tugged my shaft. “Give me your dick.”
That bossy tone turned me on, and I rutted into his fist, moaning his name.
“Keston, fuck me, Keston.” I nipped his shoulder, and he stiffened and came hot and heavy, coating my hand.
He increased the pressure along my throbbing length while sucking my tongue, and my vision blurred as I broke apart in the most intense climax of my life.
He held me tight, fingers stroking my naked skin while I regained my equilibrium.
We stayed locked to each other, our hearts pounding. I was sleepy and content and laid my head on his shoulder. His teeth scraped against my jaw before taking my earlobe and sucking it. My swirling brain came together, and I wondered if he was going to kick me out or fuck me.
“I’m just around the corner,” he whispered.
“Are you inviting me home with you?”
“Unless you want me to do you here,” he growled, and I could have sworn my dick twitched.
“Mmm, I’m not sure. Could be sexy, me bent over the table.” His breath hitched, and I licked his collarbone. “What do you say?”
He reached for me, and I heard a noise from the front of the shop.
“Keston? Are you here? Keston?”
He pushed me off him and jumped away, eyes wild with shock. I stumbled several steps, my feet tangled in my clothes. Keston pulled up his sweats and wiped his hands on some paper towels.
“Stay here.”
I nodded and reached for my briefs and pants while he slipped out of the office and shut me in.
With my clothing straightened and my hands clean, I carefully opened the door a crack, and peered out.
A lanky man stood near the front of the shop.
Their quiet voices didn’t reach far enough for me to hear what they were saying, and I grew more frustrated by the minute as they continued to talk, Keston laughing as if I wasn’t standing and waiting for him.
Why the hell was Keston hiding me in here?