Chapter 10 #2
He’s keeping pace with me. Like he’s toying with his prey.
Every breath I take feels raw, torn from my chest, but I don’t slow down.
I can almost feel him behind me, close enough that the hairs on my neck rise.
The thrill of it floods through me, sharp and addictive.
He’s coming for me, and god help me, I want him to.
I can’t remember the last time I felt so stupidly alive. So achingly aware of every step I take. And when I hear him get closer, enough for his breath to mix with the pounding of my heart, something inside of me turns loose.
His fingers brush the top of my arm and I squeal. I know he’s got me but I keep running. Excitement tightens my stomach, like I’m on the edge of something I can’t come back from.
And then he grips me. Slowing me. Slamming me against his chest as his arms encircle my body. I let out a scream as he lifts me like I’m weightless, and his hand immediately covers my mouth.
He holds me so tightly I can feel the hard ridge of his desire press into my ass.
Oh God, he likes this too.
“Did you really think you could beat me?” he murmurs, like he knows his words turn me on. “Do you know what happens to women who don’t do as they’re told?”
My whole body tingles like it’s about to explode. I know he’s only playing a role. Saying what the book says. But dammit, it’s hot as hell.
His hand still covers my mouth as I try to regain control of my breaths.
“Do you feel how turned on I am?” he whispers. “I could take you now if I wanted to. Push you to your knees. Force you to swallow me.”
My legs start to tremble. There’s a steady pulse between them. The thought of him pushing me down makes me ache for it.
“Are you turned on?” he murmurs. His hand splays out on my stomach, then he moves it down, his fingers tracing the waistband of my shorts, where they cover my hips.
“You want me to touch you?” he whispers. “Like in the book?”
My heart clenches at how he’s still asking. Still checking. Getting permission. Like I’m more than just a fantasy being played out on the beach. I let out a breath and nod. I don’t want it. I need it. I think I might die if he doesn’t. My whole body is throbbing. Aching for him.
He slides his hand beneath the elastic, letting out a soft oath when he realizes I’m not wearing any panties. He’s so hard against me I wonder if he’s on the edge too. Then he reaches my core, groaning as he slides a finger against me.
“You’re so wet for me. You like this, don’t you?”
I nod against his hand. His other is cupping my sex, his finger circling my clit. My hips rock against him as he increases the pressure. Then he lowers his mouth against my neck, biting hard enough to make me yelp. He lets out a hum, then kisses the skin there, soothing it with his tongue.
“I’m going to let go of your mouth,” he whispers. “Do you promise to be quiet?”
I nod. Not trusting myself to speak. He slowly unfurls his fingers and I gasp in some air.
He circles my clit again, using his other hand to caress my breast. He pinches my nipple and it sends my nerves into overdrive.
“I…” I’m so on the edge it isn’t funny. A combination of desire and adrenaline rushes through me like the headiest drug I’ll ever experience.
“Let go,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”
A moment later my body explodes with pleasure, my orgasm crashing through me like a tidal wave. I let out a cry, despite his instructions, and he covers my mouth again, using his arm to keep me upright, against him.
I’m not sure how long I convulse. Long enough to feel completely exhausted and boneless in his grasp. He kisses my neck again, whispers what a good girl I am.
And I think that’s what sends me into a second orgasm. It’s harsher, almost painful and faster than the last. An aftershock with teeth.
When the final wave dies down, and I can stand again, he slowly lets me go. And I realize I haven’t seen his face. Not since I started running.
When I turn around, he’s looking at me. Or at least I think he is. I reach for his glasses, push them off his eyes. He blinks like the light is painful.
“You doing okay?” he asks me.
I open my mouth and for some reason I start to laugh. “I’ve no idea.”
His eyes crinkle as he studies me for a long moment, his chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths. Then he reaches up and slides his sunglasses back down over his eyes, shutting me out completely.
For a second, I wish he hadn’t. I want to see what’s in his eyes. Whether he’s proud, ashamed, or as shaken as I am.
Instead, he takes a slow step back, brushing the sand from his hands. The distance feels heavier than it should.
“Congratulations,” I whisper. “You won. Looks like you’re still on the committee.”
He almost smiles. Like he forgot what we were racing for. “Thanks, I think.”
My legs wobble like a baby deer’s as I try to take a step. “I’ll walk you home,” he murmurs.”
“No, it’s fine,” I manage to get out. “Thank you, but I’ve got this. And…”
“People talk,” he says, like he can read my mind.
“Exactly.” I hover for a moment. Should I thank him for the orgasm? I’m not sure. What are the rules here?
“Get home safe,” he says quietly. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I won’t. I’m fine.” I don’t want him to treat me like I’m breakable again. I feel strong. I feel powerful.
And I want him to know it. So I turn on my heel and start to walk away. I can feel the heat of his gaze on my back as I stride along the sand, my skin still overheating from the pleasure he gave me.
And the chase.
When I’m almost at the Salty Dog I realize I’m glad he’s not resigning from the committee.
I don’t want him to.
And it’s not because I need to see him again. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
Because this thing between us was a one time thing. It was about me taking my control back, showing him – and me – that I’m not something fragile or broken.
And it has nothing to do with the fact that every time I see him he makes me breathless.