He rewarded her by sucking her nipples, flicking and rubbing them with his tongue until her hips began to shift in the air, seeking pressure she wouldn’t find. Knowing her sex trembled for satisfaction, but wouldn’t get it unless he allowed it to happen, made Reed groan around the beautifully formed nipple in his mouth. Made him draw on it harder. Blindly, he tore a condom from his pocket and rolled it on.
“Reed. Please t-touch me. I need you to touch me.”
His hands slid up the backs of her thighs to her ass, gripped the flesh hard. Her breathy whimper shot lust straight to his belly. “Every time you ask, I’ll make you wait longer.” The hands on his shoulders flexed as she nodded, expression pained. Taking his time, Reed trailed his hands down her legs and around to the juncture of her thighs. “I’m going to spank you, pixie. But not in the way you expect.” His grip on her thighs tightened punishingly. “These legs…the objects of my frustration.” One hand moved higher to palm her pussy. “I know they lead straight to here. That’s what fucks me up, baby. Now it’s going to feel the sting.”
Then he gently slapped her between the legs. Her gasp of shock turned into a moan as her knees buckled. With a growl, Reed quickly put her back in a standing position. And did it again. And again. The light slapping sounds of his hand connecting with her wet center drove him wild. If he allowed it to continue, he wouldn’t last five minutes. Indulging himself, he slapped her delicate heat once more, right over the spot begging for attention. Julie’s grip on his shoulders trembled; her legs began to shake. He moved on, slapping the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. The backs, the sides.
“Hiked your skirt up for me, is that right? Did you think you’d get away with that?”
“No.” Her chest shuddered. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
Julie leaned down and tried to kiss him, but he jerked back, wanting an explanation. She finally answered on a breath. “I didn’t want to get away with it.”
He groaned his pleasure. “That’s what I thought. Mine from the beginning.” Jerking the robe off her shoulders, Reed grasped her buttocks and sat her down on his erection, filling her to the hilt. He swooped down with his mouth to swallow her scream, loving the taste of her desperation on his tongue. Already she’d begun to tighten and shudder around him. The driving need for her to move mingled with delicious frustration. “Goddammit.” Flexing his hips, he groaned. “I knew that first night. From the way you walked. Moved. I knew you’d be tight as fuck, Julie.”
Her mouth opened on his neck, voice barely audible. “That’s the first time you’ve called me by my actual name.”
Reed ceased all movement, her words ringing in his ears. He shook his head, dislodging her mouth. “No. No, that can’t be right.”
Julie kissed his lips, leaning back to meet his eyes when he didn’t kiss her back. Before she could question him, he stood and carried her into the room, still planted firmly inside her. With each step, she caught her breath at the way she bounced on his hardness, legs circling his hips, clinging. Reed could barely think over the buzzing in his ears. The realization that he’d never called her by her name made him fucking crazy. It hit too close to home, a painful reminder of his past. He had to make it right, immediately. She deserved more.
Reed laid her down on the bed, pushing deep, deep, until she shook underneath him. “Julie,” he whispered in her ear. Savoring her moan, he took her knees in his hands and pushed them wide. He wanted to shout at the goddamn perfection of her. Jesus, she’d been formed just for him. Was such a thing even possible? Then he slid out of her, thrusting back in slowly, forcing himself to take his time. Go slow and let himself savor her. He worked his pelvis in a hot, deliberately slow bump-and-grind, delivering pressure and friction to her sweet spot. “Julie.” Reed took her hands in his and pinned them over her head, driving into her at an accelerating pace. He couldn’t help it with the way she continued to tighten around him. She arched her back and moaned, pink-tipped breasts jutting toward him, begging for a lick. He found an angle with his hips that made her fingernails dig into his restraining hands, felt her start to lose control. As she reached her peak, he drew on her nipples. The sounds of his sucking combined with her throaty cries of his name to push him over the edge.
When he came, he buried his face in her neck and chanted her name. Over and over in her ear.
Chapter Thirteen
Julie woke with a jolt when her cell phone buzzed on the table beside the bed. Realizing in shock that night had long-since fallen and she’d been out of contact for hours, she tried to sit up but couldn’t. An arm around her middle kept her pinned to the bed. It seemed the shocks were far from over. Reed lay beside her, illuminated by the muted television, flickering shadows lighting his broad, muscular chest and stubborn face. Even in sleep he looked obstinate, Julie mused, unable to stop her smile. It vanished almost immediately. What did she think she was doing?
Their afternoon-turned-evening together played through her mind in a series of blatantly erotic images. The things he’d done to her. Things she’d wanted him to do. Begged him to do. He’d brought something to life in her. Something that had perhaps always been there, but no one had ever made her want to embrace. Prior to meeting Reed, she would have scoffed at the very idea of being ordered around by a man in the bedroom. She would have thought it made a woman soft. Weak. Yet she’d felt the complete opposite of weak. She’d felt powerful. Desirable. Hadn’t wanted it to end.
This man has the ability to turn you inside out.
The harsh thought came unbidden to her mind, smacking of absolute truth. Reed could barely stand to be touched in a nonsexual way, didn’t have an affectionate bone in his body. He dominated. Wrung pleasure out of her ruthlessly. But that didn’t equate to caring for her. She needed to remember that. They were a temporary fling. They would both go back to Atlanta, to their very different lives, and possibly never cross paths again, being that they ran in such vastly different circles. To his credit, he’d told her he didn’t do romance. Not that it had been necessary for him to put into words what was already so obvious. She didn’t want romance from him, either. Right? Waking up next to him, however, seeing him in the vulnerable state of sleep, feeling his warm body wrapped protectively around hers…it didn’t exactly inspire her to keep a rational, level head about his intentions.
Like it or not, what they’d done together required a certain level of trust. Allowing him to dominate her, hold her down, punish her, had created a tenuous bond between them in her mind. A fact that terrified her, because it would inevitably be severed at some point. By him. Her. Their differences. She didn’t know. Only that it would happen.
Knowing she needed to get up, attend to her responsibilities, Julie took one last opportunity to look him over. Commit him to memory. After all, who knew how long this would continue? That first night, Regan had described him as tall, dark, and dangerous. The description certainly fit, but much more lurked under his rough, damaged exterior. He harbored pain and insecurities, same as everyone else. Only she suspected his wounds ran much deeper. They’d been inflicted by others he should have been able to trust, giving him ample reason to keep people at a distance. Sure, losing Serena had been a great tragedy in her life, but their childhood had been storybook perfect. A million miles away from bar fights and tattoos of naked mermaids.
“What are you thinking about?”
His sleep-roughened voice made her jump. She scrambled to recover her wits under his watchful gaze. A gaze that suggested Reed, too, was surprised to find himself asleep in her bed. “I was, uh…thinking maybe I’d get a tattoo. Something real bad, like a dragon eating a shark. Both of them on fire. And maybe the grim reaper standing in the background, for good measure. What do you think?”
“Anyone marks your skin, I put them in a world of hurt. That’s what I think.”
Julie tucked some stray hair behind her ear, trying to ignore the wave of fierce pleasure in her chest. His possessive attitude shou
ld bother her, confuse her. After all, why did he care what became of her once they parted ways? But she couldn’t deny liking it. Craving more. “It was a joke. You always wake up this cranky?”
“You call this cranky?”
“What would you call it?”
“Honest.”
Julie shook her head at him, still trying to gauge his mood. Taking a chance, she ran a finger along the scar at his hip, relieved when he didn’t flinch under the tender touch. “Another bar fight?”
“No.” He was silent a moment, tracking her movements closely. “Came by that one at home.”
Her finger stilled, but apart from that, she showed zero reaction, afraid an ounce of pity on her face would cause him to shut down. “Your daddy do this to you?”
“I never called him that, but yes. With a broken Budweiser bottle.”
She swallowed around the knot in her throat. “How old were you?”
“Twelve.”
Julie’s nature demanded she throw herself across his chest and wail to the heavens, but somehow she managed to keep her riotous emotions in check. While she’d been attending summer camp and hosting family barbecues, he’d been leading a pitiful existence. It made her sad. It horrified her. And it ticked her off good.
“How are you holding up down there, pixie? You look like you don’t know whether to scream or break something.”
“How would you feel about both?”
He shrugged his big shoulders. “It’s your room.”