“Why?”
He lifted one eyebrow, letting his impatient look answer the question. She lifted her arms, resting her hands in a position of surrender. It turned him on. A fact that wasn’t lost on Chloe as his cock twitched and grew even harder.
She sighed. “Liar.” The word wasn’t spoken with malice or accusation, but he was confused by the name. Then she added, “You are still a very bad boy.”
He grinned, pleased, then bent his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth. They hadn’t shed a damn piece of clothing besides their pants—something he would rectify the next time—so he added extra pressure, sucking harder, making sure she felt his touch through her blouse and bra.
Her back arched as she attempted to keep his mouth there. He added his teeth to the game, nipping lightly at first, then digging deeper.
She cried out, not in pain, but in true pleasure.
He lifted his head. “And you’re still trying to pretend you’re a good girl.”
She cupped his face with one of her hands, intent on pushing him back to her breast. Blake gripped her wrist firmly, pressing it against the couch cushion above her head. “Don’t move your hands or I’ll tie you up. I have my handcuffs with me.”
Her pussy clenched tightly against his cock. Blake fought to restrain a groan, stars forming behind his eyelids. Chloe had liked it rough; her sexual needs a mirror image of his. At nineteen, he’d chalked it up to her innocence, believing her desires were fueled by genuine curiosity. Now he knew it was more than that. Not all women were created equal.
Blake pushed off his elbows, grasping Chloe’s wrists in his hands, forcing them into the cushion. The power play, the show of strength had Chloe’s eyes drifting closed, her body shuddering with need.
“Please, Blake.” Her voice was soft. He knew what she was asking for.
He withdrew from her body until just the tip of his cock remained and then he shoved in hard, going as deep as their bodies would allow. Chloe didn’t shy away from his almost brutal thrusting. Instead, she added her own fuel to the flames, joining the rhythm, driving her hips up as he came down. The only sound in the room was that of their mingled cries and the slapping noise of skin on skin. Blake’s grip on her wrists slipped a bit as both of them started to perspire, the temperature in the studio rising to rival that of the sun.
Neither of them stopped for air or for rest. Instead they kept fighting for climax, two bodies slamming together in a selfish search for completion. Chloe came first…and second. Two orgasms, one right on the heels of the other. She groaned loudly, trembling, but when Blake refused to give way, to stop, she quickly recovered, rejoining the race.
When he finally approached his end, Blake released one of her wrists, letting his fingers drift along her body to her clit. He wanted to feel her coming around him again as he found his own pleasure.
Chloe jerked when he touched the swollen, sensitive nub. “I can’t,” she cried.
He stroked her clit faster. “Yes, you can. You’re going to come with me, Chloe. You and me. Together.”
She gasped and he felt the familiar fluttering of her pussy. She was almost there. Thank God. Blake was seconds away from falling over the cliff himself. Chloe pushed him off. Her inner muscles clenched, squeezing his cock almost painfully. He dropped to his elbows as he came, jet after jet of come filling the condom.
“God.” The word felt as if it was ripped from his chest. Every muscle in his body tensed in beautiful agony. How much time had passed since he’d been this affected by sex? He knew the answer to that.
Ten years ago.
Chloe lay beneath Blake, refusing to open her eyes. She’d told him she wouldn’t regret it.
But she’d lied. And not for the reasons he might think.
Chloe had done some serious introspection since the conversation with her mother. She’d comprehended the wisdom in her mama’s advice. Chloe needed closure where Blake was concerned.
She’d had her heart broken by him when she was young, inexperienced, foolish. As a result, she’d held on to that pain, harbored it, made it larger than it should have been. She was an adult now, a woman, and she was no stranger to love affairs or casual sex.
Chloe believed if she slept with him just once more, she’d realize she had built him up to some mythological proportions that were inaccurate. A brief, one-time fling with Blake would prove to her that he was a man just like any other and she’d be able to let go of her sex-god beliefs and move the hell on.
So much for that idea.
“Closing your eyes isn’t going to make me disappear.” Blake’s smug voice proved he knew she was trying to hide from the consequences of her actions.
She didn’t open her eyes. “Maybe you’ll think I fell asleep and leave peacefully.”
He kissed her cheek. She wished that friendly, platonic buss didn’t feel so freaking good. “I’m not leaving.”
He was still buried inside her, his body covering hers in such a warm shelter, she found it hard to remember why this was wrong.
Chloe released a long breath, then let her gaze find his. He was more handsome now than he’d been at nineteen. Though he’d never had a boyish look, not even when he was younger, some of the hard lines around his mouth and eyes had softened.
“You don’t look as pissed off at the world as you used to.”
Blake chuckled, unoffended by her remark. “People don’t annoy me as much these days.”
She needed to get away from him—put some distance between them before she said or did something else completely stupid. Chloe lightly pressed on his shoulders, surprised when he gave way easily. He sat, helping her up as well. He made no move to stop her when she rose and began to tug on her jeans. Mercifully, they’d limited the disrobing to just the waist down.
Blake stood as well, walking to her kitchenette to throw the condom away before tugging his own pants on. Because of the open floor plan of her apartment, the only area of the place closed off by walls was the bathroom. She had placed a large Chinese screen at the foot of her bed to give the illusion of a bedroom and to hide the fact she had a tendency to leave her dirty clothes lying in a heap on the floor.
She followed him to the kitchen, feeling some of her confidence return now that she was dressed again. Chloe opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of bottles of water. She tossed one to Blake, suddenly aware that he hadn’t bothered to button his jeans or shirt back up. They both hung open in a way that was far too sexy for her peace of mind.
She reached up to her hair. She’d started the day with a loose ponytail, but most of it had escaped the elastic band. She felt around, trying to find the band, intent on repairing the mess.
Blake took a long swig of water then crossed the room, taking her in his arms. He reached up and tugged her hands down. “Leave it. You look tousled and sexy.”
“Blake.” She needed distance.
“What do you say for the encore we take all our clothes off and try to make it to your bed?”
She scowled. Cocky, arrogant asshole. “Actually, you can take the rest of that water to go. I have work to do. Thanks for the trip down memory lane. It was fun.”
Chloe hoped she’d infused just the right amount of dismissal and hell-will-freeze-over-before-we-fuck-again into her tone.
Apparently she had because Blake’s brows furrowed. “You think that was a one-night stand?”
“It might be more accurate to say it was a one-afternoon stand.”
Blake shook his head. “Think again.”
He hadn’t released her. Instead, he’d tightened his grip, letting her feel just how much he wasn’t finished with her yet. How in the hell could he be hard again already? Then she considered the foolishness of her thought. This was Blake. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. He’d always been ready to roll when it came to sex.
She wanted to hate his alpha power plays, wanted to be pissed off by them. And in a lot of ways, she was. Unfortunately, they also triggered some latent desire to be completely dominated by him. Not in everyday life—that would drive her nuts and force her to cut his penis off.
But in the bedroom…sexually…God yes.
Before she could respond, the door to her apartment slid open. Justin and Ned walked in. Chloe tried to push Blake away, but he held fast.
“Let go of me,” she muttered when she caught her older brother’s dark look.
“You heard her,” Justin said, his fists clenched. Great. Nothing like adding embarrassment to mistake.
She’d been wrong to think she could open the door a crack for Blake and not expect him to push it wide and walk in.
Justin’s gaze took in her messy hair and Blake’s open shirt, his scowl growing. It was far too obvious what had taken place here.
Time for distraction. She shrugged out of Blake’s arms, flushing hotly when he reached down to zip up his jeans, not bothering to hide the action from her brother and his business partner. “What are you doing here, Justin?”
“You and Ned have an appointment to discuss the calendar, remember? We had a work meeting on this side of town, so I rode with him, figured I’d chill on your couch while the two of you worked out a plan for Ned’s pose.”
Ned grinned, obviously sensing her desire to diffuse the volatile situation. “He was planning to be a pain in the ass, making me regret volunteering to do this damn thing. If it had been anyone other than Mama Lewis asking, I would have said no.”