Читать книгу Wound Up - Kelli Ireland - Страница 11
ОглавлениеNAVIGATING FIRST THE parking garage’s hairpin turns and then Seattle’s waterfront traffic, Justin’s mind wandered over the woman in the borrowed Camaro’s passenger seat. The fact that she had let him take the lead had been appealing at first. It only became an issue when she didn’t offer to drive or take him to her place. What was he going to do? He couldn’t take her to his apartment. A hotel he could afford would seem sleazy. A hotel he couldn’t afford was irresponsible. He could ask her if she was interested in taking this to her place, but that seemed overtly presumptuous, even in the face of their conversation. There was always the chance Levi would let Justin use his pad, but that felt worse than a cheap hotel. He supposed he might—
“What sounds appealing?”
He couldn’t stop the tightening of his hands on the steering wheel any more than he could change his immediate response. “You.”
Her sultry laugh nearly undid him. “I was thinking more along the lines of food, like drive-through versus restaurant.”
Heart pounding out a tribal rhythm in his brain, he chanced a glance at her. He nearly blew a vein. Her eyes were radiant in the streetlights, her skin nearly translucent. She nibbled her lower lip. Her palms were rubbing up and down her thighs, and he doubted she even realized it.
“I’m going to wreck this car if you don’t stop looking at me like that,” he murmured, returning his attention to the road.
“Like what?”
He grinned and shook his head. “Same way you used to look at me in class, making me forget what I was lecturing on.” Reaching across the console, he fished for her hand, found it and brought it to his lips. Her skin was soft and smelled of shea butter and vanilla. “You used to make me wonder how you’d taste if I said ‘to hell with it all’ and kissed you in class.”
Her hand tightened slightly around his. “Why didn’t you?”
“Mostly? I needed the job. But there was also the other part of me, the curious part that wondered what might happen if we ever crossed paths outside of the university, where we had a chance to let things play out without being worried about the rules.”
“I suppose now’s the time to satisfy your curiosity. And mine.”
He glanced at her, and all the blood in his brain dove south. “You’ve eaten dinner, but did you have dessert?”
“No.”
“There’s this great little dessert place in the market district. It might be crowded, but it’s worth the wait if you’re game.”
“Sounds wonderful.” She shifted toward him, resting on her hip. “How long have you danced at Beaux Hommes?”
He shrugged. “I started when I was twenty, so ten years.”
“Wow.”
“Why?” He chanced a quick glance at her as he wove through traffic.
“I just wondered how long I have to do penance for not realizing you danced there—and for not coming into the club and watching you sooner. Looks like I’ve got a decade to beat myself about the head and shoulders.”
A short bark of laughter escaped him. “Enjoyed it that much, did you?” Spindly fingers of unease skittered along his spine. He would have preferred to keep his dancing and the club out of whatever happened between them.
Shoving her hair off her forehead, she nodded. “I enjoyed it way more than is probably legal in most states.”
“Careful, Ms. Cooper. We can’t afford to have the club shut down.” He pulled into the café’s parking lot and lucked into a space at the very front as another car left. “Out of curiosity, what would the charge have been?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Unadulterated lust compounded by indecent thoughts in a public place.”
The grin that stole over Justin was absolute. “You’re quick.”
This time she was the one who shrugged. “I’ve been suffering long enough to know.”
Hand on the door handle, he paused. “Suffering?”
“Three years, Justin.” Soft words in the car’s semilit interior. “For three years I’ve watched you and laughed with you and wanted you. Remember when you had us get up, one at a time, to defend our theses? I bombed it because I couldn’t stop staring at you. You were kind, and didn’t call me out for my horrible delivery. I liked you even more for that, and I couldn’t stop wondering if you were half as compelled as I was to skip class and play doctor.” She smiled, the look somehow bittersweet. “I won’t pretend it wasn’t that way. Not now. Not anymore.”
His heart lurched. “No. No more pretending.” Drawing a deep breath, he pushed the door open. “Food first. Talk second.” He glanced back. “And we’ll discuss the specific terms of Monopoly.”
“Deal.” She slipped out of the car and met him at the door.
Taking her hand was entirely natural. He silently led her inside and snagged the first available table. A waitress was there in a heartbeat, and she immediately started to flirt with Justin, irritating him. The last thing he wanted was Grace to think he was an unconscionable jerk who had no respect for his date.
Date.
And that’s really what this was. It had started as something different and evolved into him sitting across a table from her, watching her, wanting her. That last hadn’t changed.
“Sir?” The waitress twirled her pen. “Does anything here sound...appetizing?”
Reaching across the table, he took Grace’s hand and met her eyes when he answered. “Yeah, something here is just about perfect, but she’s not on your menu.”
Grace blushed, charming him to the core.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll have a turkey club, no mayo, and fries. Grace?”
“I didn’t read the menu.”
“Do you like vanilla?”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust me?”
She watched him, searching his eyes before answering. “Yes.”
“My date and I will have the crème brûlée with fresh fruit. Just one spoon. Thanks.”
“Sure.” The waitress flounced away.
“She seems a bit disappointed you’re here with someone,” Grace said on a small smile.
“Yeah, well, she’s alone in her disappointment.”
“Kind of you to say.” Grace traced her thumb over the heel of Justin’s hand, then opened her mouth and closed it.
“Something wrong?”
“What’s going on here, Justin?”
“What do you mean?”
She tilted her head, gesturing to the café. “This.”
“Shockingly, people are eating.” He leaned forward. “And we’re going to join them.”
Huffing, she shook her head. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Justin didn’t let go of her hands. Instead, he waited to speak until she looked at him. “We’re finally sitting in a restaurant holding hands and sharing a meal, no ethics clauses clouding the view. We’re exploring what might happen when everything else is peeled away and it’s just us.”
Her breath caught and her fingers tightened around his. “And what might happen?”
“Whatever we both consent to. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“I’m not going to be in Seattle much longer, Justin. I don’t want serious. All I want is to...play.”
Grinning at her, he shook his head. “You have a thing for board games?”
“Not until about thirty minutes ago.”
Ignoring the disapproving glances, he leaned over the table and kissed her gently before settling back in his chair. “Which piece do you want to be?”
“All of them, and more than once.”
Her husky answer wound him up. Lust and longing and sexual hunger created a volatile cocktail of need that swam through him. “I promise you’ll pass ‘Go’ more than once.”
She grinned and shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re sitting here sexing up an eighty-year-old board game.”
“And I find it strangely attractive that you know how old the game is.”
“One of my useless pieces of trivia gleaned from years of...” She trailed off.
“Years of what?” he pressed.
She took a moment to meet his gaze. “Just a lot of lonely years.”
The waitress slid his sandwich on the table and refilled their drinks before leaving.
“Want a bite?” Justin asked, taking his hand away from hers to pick up the sandwich.
She shook her head as if to clear it. “No, thanks.”
“Ah. Holding out for dessert. I knew you were my kind of woman.”
“We’ll see about that.” She reached over and took a fry. “They’re hot.”
“Consider me forewarned,” he said softly.
Her eyes darkened. “How in the hell did you just make a single french fry sexy?”
“Sweetheart, I didn’t. You did.” He took a bite of the sandwich and chewed slowly, watching her.
“You’re killing me, Smalls.”
He paused, sandwich halfway to his mouth. “You’re a fan of The Sandlot?”
“You just earned major points for actually recognizing where that quote comes from.”
“What about you?”
She shrugged, pushing her hair over her shoulder. “My mom wasn’t the most involved mother. I grew up believing Scooby-Doo was the evening news, and if I could find a book to lose myself in? Well, that was the best of all. You’ll be stunned to learn I’ve been a pirate, a mercenary, a vampire, a steampunk inventor and, on more than one occasion, a damsel in distress.”
He licked salt off his finger. “You don’t strike me as distressed.”
“No, I’m not.” She shrugged. “I’ve never been that woman.”
“Want to know my other favorite quote from that movie? ‘Anyone who wants to be a can’t-hack-it pantywaist who wears their mama’s bra, raise your hand.’”
She laughed. “I forgot about that one!”
The sound of her laughter slid through him like some kind of chemical reaction, pulverizing common sense until he was nothing but a mass of desire. “Grace,” he said, choked.
Watching him, she reached over and slid the plate away and flagged the waitress. “Can we get our dessert?”
“Was there something wrong with your sandwich?” the young girl asked.
“No,” Grace answered. “We’re just anxious to share dessert.”
“Very anxious,” Justin quietly added.
The waitress rolled her eyes but took the half-eaten sandwich away.
Lacing their fingers together, he was surprised at how small her hand seemed in his.
“Justin?”
He met her stare, letting everything he felt show in his eyes. “Every time you came into class, every time you stopped by my office with research notes or questions on theory or treatment options, every time we ran into each other on campus—I knew you were smarter and more driven than any of the other students. You were special. There were obstacles, boundaries I wasn’t willing to push. Those are gone. I want you.”
The waitress set the crème brûlée between them. “Enjoy.”
Justin didn’t let go of Grace’s hand. Instead, he picked up the spoon with his free hand and scooped up a small bit of the creamy dessert and held it out. “Bite.” A statement, not a question.
She complied without any hesitation, her lips closing over the spoon, her eyes fluttering shut in absolute bliss.
A rush of heat flooded his groin, and his cock kicked against his jeans.
“That’s delicious,” she murmured, licking her lips.
He leaned over and tasted the sweetness from her mouth.
Her eyes flared before closing again.
She tasted decadent, rich and smooth with a hint of crisp, caramelized sugar.
It was the best taste he’d ever had on his tongue.
Taking the spoon from him, she set it down and retrieved a strawberry. She presented the meatiest part of the fruit, tracing his lips with it, teasing, before she let him take a bite.
Justin realized he was going to cause a scene when he stood up and the world caught sight of the undeniable erection pounding against the waistband of his jeans.
“Jeez. Get a room,” someone nearby muttered.
Annoyed someone would disrespect Grace, he started to whip around and address the speaker.
Grace squeezed his fingers, stopping him.
“That’s a fabulous idea,” she said, so softly he thought he must have misunderstood.
“Sorry?”
She met his gaze without flinching. “I said, that’s a fabulous idea.”
“Getting a room?” he asked stupidly.
“Yes, Justin.” She leaned over and nipped his bottom lip before whispering, “And make it somewhere nearby.”
He let go of her hand to flip the check over as he dug out his wallet. He dropped enough to cover the bill and tip, grabbed Grace’s hand and hauled her out of the restaurant.
She laughed as she followed. “It doesn’t have to be a fifty-yard dash.”
Opening the car door for her, he muttered, “The first time, it probably will be. After that? Monopoly is all about strategy and longevity, baby.” He met her wide-eyed gaze. “This is what you’re getting into with me—all night. No compromises on pleasure given or received. No apologies tomorrow. We talk about what happens next after that.”
“Take me to breakfast and you’ve got a deal.”
“Done.”
Justin did his best to walk to the driver’s side calmly.
He was pretty sure he failed.
* * *
JUSTIN WAS ALREADY backing the car out of the parking space before Grace could buckle her seat belt.
He sped down the 519, his eyes scanning the buildings as they flashed by. “If you don’t have any objections, I thought the Best Western in Pioneer Square would be nice.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” she said, voice husky.
Justin’s grip tightened on the wheel as he sped up. “You’re making me crazy. The voice thing? It’s going to push me over the edge.”
“Can’t help it,” she murmured.
He glanced at her quickly. “Seriously?”
“Happens when I get turned on, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“It’s never happened before.”
“Why now?”
She laughed. “You seduced me, Justin. From the moment you stood in front of me at the club to the strawberry kiss, you...you... Yeah. You seduced me.”
His jaw tightened. “I haven’t talked you into anything you don’t want to do, have I?”
“Considering this is a mutual agreement, there’s been no ‘talking me into’ anything.”
He stepped on the brakes hard and whipped the car into a narrow space in front of the hotel. “Wait here. I’ll get a room.”
She reached for her purse. “Do you want me to pitch in half?”
“Hell, no. Just be here when I get back and we’ll call it even.”
“Justin?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to head in and wander around.”
“Why?”
Her grin was pure sex. “So you can find me.”
His mouth went drier than if he’d filled it with Pixy Stix candy. Nodding, he pushed off the car and jogged into the lobby only to end up waiting in line behind a pissy traveler. Nothing about the guy’s requests was possible, and Justin grew more and more agitated as he waited. She walked past him and his gaze locked on her.
Calm just wasn’t in his repertoire at this point. He had to get this first rush of Grace out of his system. Then he could slow down and enjoy the night. Until then, he was going to burn for the woman who was at this very moment peeling an orange from the breakfast area and waiting on the elevator to go who-knew-where.
Something about that challenge, to hunt her down, claim her as his prize, made him want to shove the stranger in front of him aside and demand the first available room with a king-size bed.
When the guy in front of him finally stormed off, Justin stepped up to the counter and pulled his wallet out. “I need a room for two, king bed.”
The sleepy-eyed clerk didn’t even glance up from the computer. “Smoking or nonsmoking?”
“Non.”
“Floor preference.”
“First available.”
“Front or rear of the building.”
“Look,” Justin said, leaning over the counter. “Give me a room with a king-size bed that’s clean and has room-darkening drapes in this zip code and I’m cool. Just get me the key before I rupture a nut, feel me?”
A lazy smile spread across the guy’s face. “Saw you two come in. She’s hot as hell.”
“Then have a little sympathy, man. A key.”
“Cash or credit?”
“Cash plus a tip if you’ll just give me the damn key,” Justin all but snarled.
A couple of taps of the keyboard and the clerk produced two key cards.
Justin paid him in ones and fives, not thinking about it until the guy arched a brow.
“You pick her up at a strip club?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. Where does she work?”
“Man, she’s not the stripper. I am.” He scooped up his wallet and glared at the guy. “Good night.”
“Not as good as yours is gonna be,” the guy muttered, shifting to stare at the computer again.
Justin didn’t comment, didn’t spare the guy another look. He went straight to the car and parked it near the first exterior entrance. The room number put them on the fourth floor. He’d start on the second floor and sweep every hallway until he found her. And when he did? He was passing Go and collecting his two hundred dollars.
Immediately.
* * *
GRACE WANDERED ALONG the third-floor hallway, slipping into every vending nook and laundry cranny as she waited for Justin. No telling what was taking so long. The thought that he’d changed his mind and bailed on her flitted through her mind before she dismissed it. He wasn’t the type to go back on his word. She knew that much about him.
A stairwell door closed heavily behind her.
Strong hands spun her around and yanked her into a hard body before she had a chance to react. “You don’t hide very well, Ms. Cooper.”
Her breath hitched. “Maybe I wanted to be found, Dr. Maxwell.”
“Did you now?” he murmured.
“I bit my lip when you pulled me around.” His mouth was so close to hers their lips brushed, featherlight, as she spoke.
“I apologize.”
“Don’t.” Her pulse thundered. “Kiss it and make it better.”
Tipping her chin up, he closed the distance between them. Their lips slid together like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, solid and secure. Tongues touched, tentative before growing bolder. Hands roamed, slow but desperate. And in no time at all, she was lost to the moment.
He treated her like a sensual feast, caressing her face, her neck, the upper swells of her breasts. His short breaths skated over her skin. When he slipped a hand under her shirt and found one nipple, she gasped his name and let her head fall against the wall he pinned her to.
Those magic fingers disappeared seconds before he pulled her close with one hand and cupped the nape of her neck with the other to direct the kiss.
Hunger. He made her hunger for him. Deprived of such sensual sensation for so long, she couldn’t do anything more than follow his lead in the moment. She knew she needed to get her feet underneath her, regain control, and she would. Grace might be a lot of things, but out of control wasn’t one of them.
As if he’d heard her, he broke the kiss. He stared down at her, his blue eyes darkened with lust, the pupils dilated. “C’mon.”
Justin ushered her into the dimly lit stairwell and jogged up the stairs, hauling her along. He emerged on the fourth floor, went to room 420 and, with a shaking hand, inserted the key card. The electronic lock clicked open and he pulled her into the dark room, this time letting the door shut quietly behind them. The moment they were inside, he had her pressed into the corner and slipped his hands up under her shirt to unhook her bra with deft fingers. When the clasp released, he moved to cup one bare breast. The nipple, beaded before he reached it, hardened even more as he pinched and tugged the tender flesh.
Grace slid her hands under his coat, around his waist and up his shirt. Skin to skin. Heat to heat. She reveled in his shudder when she raked her fingernails down his spine, grew empowered by his increasingly frenzied actions. Never in all her life had she felt so raw. When he bent, wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her against the wall, her legs automatically wrapped around him and her hips thrust forward.
Justin settled the seam of her sex against the hard ridge of his erection and ground into her.
She gasped and arched her back, exposing her throat.
A primal growl built in his chest. He pressed his lips to her neck, alternately licking and nipping her jugular.
Grace wound her arms around his neck and rode his cock with growing urgency. Soft mewls filled the cool air, and it took her a moment to realize the sounds were hers.
He lifted her off of him and, despite her protests, spun her to face the wall. The button on her jeans made a soft pop when he yanked it free. Zipper teeth chattered their way down. He shoved her pants to her ankles. “Step out.”
She did and, spreading her legs, arched into him. Her body came alive under his touch. Breasts heavy and core aching, she wanted him inside her. She craved him, needed him to stretch her and fill her and take her over the edge again and again.
The sound of a zipper was followed immediately by crinkling foil. Seconds later, the weighted heat of his cock settled against her ass even as unseen fingers slid over her hips and down.
“Sweet hell,” he whispered into her ear as he worked his way into her folds. “You’re so damn wet, baby.”
“Please.”
“I thought you wanted me to be the one to beg,” he teased, tracing his tongue along the shell of her ear.
A desperate, choked laugh escaped her as she slapped her hands on the walls. “No more playing. Finish me, Justin. Please.”
Her slick arousal coated his fingers as he dragged them forward to the small, firm knot of her clitoris. Several short, swift flicks and she came apart in his arms.
Her hips bucked wildly, her breath came hard. Her eyelids slid closed. A deep keening escaped her. She shuddered, pulling a hand off the wall to clutch his and hold him closer as she rode out the crest of adrenaline and raw lust pounding through her veins, thick and viral. He scraped his teeth along the nape of her neck, sending her careening over the edge into a second brutally hard orgasm.
Nothing made sense for several minutes—not the thundering of her heart, not the sound of blood rushing through her ears, not the way her legs had gone to rubber. She was lost in space and time, nothing more than a product of her various pieces.
She was full and heavy, yet vacant, wanting.
She wanted him buried inside her, wanted him to drive her to abandon, wanted him to use her body well.
The images those thoughts conjured took her even higher, as did the knowledge it would all come to pass. She wouldn’t have to fantasize about Justin Maxwell in the dark. Not tonight. Tonight the man was manifest, the fantasy a reality—and the reality was superseding anything her mind had dreamed up, whether in the light of day or the darkest reaches of night.
He calmed her, soothing her with words and fingertips and firm lips on sweaty skin. “That’s one and two. Now turn around.”
Her legs refused to cooperate. Hot hands closed on her bare hips and spun her, pressing her bare ass against the cold wall. “Justin,” she said on a breath.
“Hold on, baby.” His words were strained, heavy, full of his own sensual need. Grabbing her behind the thighs, he lifted her and pinned her to the wall with his weight.
The heat of his arousal branded her, left her gasping as she reached for him.
“Arms around my neck.”
She complied.
He lifted her higher, tilting her hips to receive him.
The broad head of his cock breached her outer folds and she whimpered. “More, damn it!”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Do it,” she pleaded.
With one hard thrust, he seated himself to the hilt. His mouth crushed hers, swallowing her shout.
She’d known he was large, but being impaled by him was a whole different thing. Stretched farther than she would have guessed possible, pain and pleasure hovered together, shining bright and dark on ecstasy’s horizon. Then he began to move with slow thrusts. Aching, heavy heat burned in her pelvis. Using his neck as a fulcrum, she pulled herself forward and nipped his ear. “Harder.”
His groan vibrated through his chest and into hers.
She shivered.
Fingers dug into her hips. “Hold on, sweetheart.”
He pistoned in and out of her with sheer strength, using his hands to draw her off his shaft before driving home over and over.
Sweat slicked her hold on him as she tried to pull herself onto him even harder. “Please,” she said on a moan. “I need...I need...”
His hand slipped between them and, as she rode him, found her clit. First contact nearly threw her off his length when she jerked, but he tightened his grip on her hip and set up a rapid thrumming in time with his thrusts.
In seconds, Grace felt the release roaring toward her. “Don’t stop!”
“I’m with you, baby,” he said on heavy breaths.
The spasm of orgasm started in her pelvis and spread. Then she came apart in his arms. Head thrown back, she took everything he had to give. Sensation overrode the last of her common sense and unintelligible sounds rose from her throat.
He sank his teeth into the soft spot between her shoulder and neck, and she reveled in the raw, animalistic behavior. Justin’s entire body tensed and he groaned loudly as his thrusts became erratic. The pulse of his orgasm rolled through her. She reveled in the power of it, the power she wielded to make this beautiful man lose his control here, now.
The breath sawed in and out of her lungs even as her muscles went limp.
He pulled her free and let her slide down the wall until her feet hit the floor.
When her knees buckled, he caught her with his whole body, pressing her into the wall.
“Sorry,” he murmured into her hair.
“You’re apologizing?” Her gasp was lost to laughter.
“For mashing you against the wall. Nothing seems to be working right at the moment.”
Fighting to regain her footing, she stood and wrapped her arms around him. His jacket smelled faintly of his cologne, and she took a moment to close her eyes and bury her face in that scent before sweeping up her pants.
“Drop the jeans, Ms. Cooper. I’m far from done with you. Far, far from done.”
Grace’s belly fluttered in anticipation. Sliding her arms around his waist, she gave in to the urge to snuggle in closer.
He held her tight, whispering against the crown of her head his intent to give her pleasure until the sun rose.
The raw power he wielded over her pushed her closer to the edge of falling for Justin Maxwell—far closer than was safe. But there was time enough to distance herself. Tomorrow she’d let him down easy. Tomorrow...
