She pursed her lips together for a few seconds, shook her head then said, “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’d do well with piercings.”
“Except during the healing time,” she said.
“Maybe you’d need to have your hands bound for a couple of weeks.”
“Depends who’s doing the binding, Sir.”
He stroked her buttocks then pulled her back toward the edge of the bed. “I’ll keep one hand on you at all times,” he promised. “Skin-to-skin reassurance.”
“Do your worst, Sir.”
Unsure whether he’d been insulted or not, he responded, “I’m hoping you’ll find it to be my best.”
He aroused her pussy with slow, light touches until she began to writhe. Still touching her, he used his free thumb to depress the pump in the lube bottle, squirting the gel onto his fingertips.
She tightened her muscles, but he continued to play with her until she shifted.
“Good,” he said. “One finger. Smaller than the plug.”
Since she’d been stretched out, his finger went in easily enough. He rotated his finger to make sure she was properly lubricated before easing out. “Not so bad. Now two.”
He placed his forefinger and second finger together and entered her.
“That’s a little more difficult,” she said around a gasp.
He spread his fingers apart. “Bear down.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
He continued to play with her pussy. As she swayed, the nipple clamps moved, distracting her, he imagined.
“How’s that?”
“Not as bad as I feared.”
“Good.” He pulled out and surged forward again. “You’re doing great.”
Aiming to surprise her, he slid his cock in her pussy.
“Definitely nothing to worry about,” she said with a laugh.
He fucked her pussy with his cock, her ass with two fingers. He moved faster, and he inserted a third finger.
“I felt that,” she protested.
“Can’t trick you,” he said. He bent to kiss her buttock. “You’re doing fine.”
“I’m almost ready to come.”
“Hold on.”
“But…”
Tone harsh to cut through her building delirium, he instructed, “Wait, Sarah.” He pulled out his dick and fingers. Keeping his promise, he put his left hand on her back while he slathered gel on the condom.
“Good Lord!” she said when he inserted his cockhead in her ass. Her body went rigid.
“That’s the biggest part,” he reassured her.
“It doesn’t feel anything like the plug.”
“Press your chest to the mattress.”
While she moved, he took hold of her hips and readjusted her position. “Put one foot on the floor for balance.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this in yoga class.”
“Dolphin position?” he suggested.
“Modified. Very modified,” she said.
But she was reaching out to him, not freezing or panicking.
“Best looking dolphin I’ve ever seen,” he said. “Bear down.” Before she had time to protest, he pulled her back and simultaneously thrust deep in her.
She yelped and tried to pull away.
“You’re there.” He had her pinned beneath him. “You did it.”
“Good. So we’re done?”
He bit her near the ribs. “How are you doing?”
“It’s strange, a little uncomfortable, but I surprisingly like it.”
“You are a constant source of amazement.” He lifted some of his weight so she could move a little. He put a finger on her clit then began to pump his hips.
In less than a minute, she started to move with him.
“I think I could orgasm, Sir,” she said.
“You earned it. Take it.”
She reached back and began to finger her pussy. He moved his hand faster as her breaths came closer together.
“Come for me, Sarah.”
Gasping, she climaxed, and the force of her squirming and pushing her hips back made him ejaculate.
Under his force, she collapsed onto the bed. He had one hand trapped beneath her, and he tangled the other one in her hair, feeling the solidness of his choker around her neck.
He continued to hold her until his cock went flaccid. “Shower with me?”
“If I can stand.”
“I’ll help you.”
In the bathroom, he turned on the shower to warm the water then disposed of the condom before entering the stall with her. He soaped her and rinsed her and said nothing as she stood beneath the spray. “Thank you for that, Sarah.”
“It was…” She looked up at him. “I’d do it again.”
“Highest praise possible.”
She allowed him a miserly amount of water, but he didn’t complain.
“Stay the night with me?”
“Yes.”
They dried off, and he found her a T-shirt to sleep in. She was asleep before he’d turned off the light. He pulled her against him like he used to in the past and probably never would again.
* * * *
Coffee, fresh, hot, strong and wafting beneath her nose…?
Sarah opened one eye. Reece was sitting on the bed next to her, looking ridiculously handsome with damp hair, an unshaven face and dressed in a golf shirt with khaki pants. He’d left the top two buttons undone, showing a smattering of hair that she itched to run her hand through. But the most fabulous sight was the steaming coffee.
“If this is a dream, it’s a good one.” She opened her other eye and rose onto her elbows.
“How do you feel?”
Sensations bombarded her. A slight sting where he’d fucked her ass, a throbbing where he’d toyed with her pussy, a dull ache in her nipples, maybe a bruise on her right buttock. “Like we had a night of debauchery.”
“Good. Otherwise we’d need to start over.”
“Oh, in that case… What debauchery? I had a nice dinner, came home, drank some dreadful Scotch, but then fell asleep around eight o’clock and slept all night.”
He grinned.
She managed to wriggle into a sitting position and propped her shoulders against the headboard. “That coffee is for me, isn’t it? You’re not teasing me or using it as a bribe? Because if you are, name your terms and let’s get on with it.”
“All yours. You don’t have to share. I do know how that’s an issue for you.”
“You’re right. It’s up there with key lime pie.”
He handed it over.
“I was starting to worry that I might need to wrestle you for it.”
“I’ll settle for watching you participate in a wet T-shirt contest. Size extra small.”
“You’re starting to enjoy this too much.”
“Bare midriff. Like those cheerleaders.”
She took the first delicious sip. “Have you been up long?”
“An hour. Had breakfast with Julien.”
“How did I sleep through that?”
“I tried to wake you up. There’s a text message from me on your phone.”
“I didn’t know you had my number.” The statement was a vicious reminder of the distance between them. Despite everything they’d shared, he hadn’t given her his, either. “Wait. Julien gave it to you.”
“No. I’m much cleverer and resourceful than that. I sent myself a message from your phone.”
“And you got past my password, how?”
“Your birthday. Got it on the first try.”
“You remembered?” Then she added, “Don’t answer. I’m not responsible for ridiculous questions before I finish my first cup. Obviously, if you got the password, you remembered my birthday.” She knew she was babbling, trying to cover her upset about where they were in their relationship. “You did well on this, by the way. Thank you.”
“Easy.” He pointed at the cup. “Fill to here with cream. Then top off with coffee.”
“You’re a quick study.”
“When the subject matters.”
She drew her knees to her chest.
“Which ferry are you taking back?” he asked, another painful reminder that their time was almost over.
“I’d planned to take the first one—that way I don’t miss my plane. There’s only a couple of non-stops, and I don’t want to get back too late. It’s a four-hour flight. I still need to get groceries. You know, get ready for the week.”
“Reality calls.”
Sarah hated the sudden awkwardness after the weekend’s intimacy and honesty. It didn’t matter that they’d pretended to start over, the reality was—they hadn’t. Distrust and betrayal still lay between them.
His phone rang.
“Julien?”
He looked at the screen. “My parents. Excuse me.” He answered and wandered outside to the patio.
She sat there, unsure what to do. Lingering served no purpose. In fact, it might make her look desperate.
There were a dozen details she needed to handle, confirming her seating assignment, packing, checking out. And somehow she needed to keep control of her emotions before she said or did something stupid.
He hadn’t discussed a future, asked her to stay, even hinted that he’d like to do anything other than fuck her.
What the hell had she expected?
She’d come here hoping that a scene would help her to forget him. Instead, she was even more in love than she’d ever been.
When she’d left two years ago, she’d been sure that her heart was breaking, but that running and hiding was ultimately her only choice. Over the years they’d been apart, she’d told herself that her memory was faulty. There was no way what they’d shared had been that rich, complex, complete.
She’d been wrong. The time together had proven that their relationship had been everything she’d remembered.
Her new-found understanding of what her disappearance had done to him made this parting worse than the first. Back then, she’d been so focused on protecting herself that she hadn’t considered how her reactions would devastate him.
Convincing Julien to assist her and planning Reece’s seduction had been the biggest mistake of her life. Nothing, nothing had compared to this kind of heartbreak.
Selfishly, when she’d concocted this idea, she hadn’t thought through the implications for him. She’d decided what she wanted and had pursued it with the same single-minded determination that she applied to her business goals.
Looking back on the weekend, she realized he’d been kinder than she’d deserved.
If the situation had been reversed, she would have been furious.
In trying to protect his friend, Julien had tried to talk her out of it. If she’d have been smarter, she’d have listened.
Sarah’s hand shook, and she slid the cup onto the nightstand before she spilled coffee all over the bed.
He came back into the room, and closed the sliding glass door.
“I think I’ll take a shower in my own room since my stuff is there,” she said. No need to prolong the parting.
“I need to leave. My mom’s in the hospital.”
Stark lines were etched next to his blue eyes, and his voice, normally so rich and modulated, cracked. All the years she’d called him the Iceman, she’d been wrong. He was capable of caring deeply.
She swallowed the knot lodged in her throat, aching that she hadn’t appreciated him when she’d had the opportunity. “Is there… What can I do to help?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Dad called an ambulance. Said she’s stable and it’s probably nothing. But he figured, rightly, I’d be pissed if he didn’t call.”
At one time, she’d had the right to be there for him, and part of her wished that was still true.
“Julien’s arranged for Svetlana to fly me to Houston.”
“I’m glad.” She climbed out of the bed. Suddenly she felt self-conscious standing in front of him wearing only one of his T-shirts. She tugged on the hem, more for something to do than really thinking it would help to cover her. “I know you’ll feel better once you’re on the way.”
“Sarah…”
“You need to go.” It seemed wrong to strip in front of him, so she grabbed up her dress from the night before and went into the bathroom.
When she came out, wearing a dress that now seemed scandalous, he was standing near the bed, the duffel bag on top of the mattress and a small suitcase sitting next to it.
“We should talk.”
She gave a brave smile. “I want…” How could she express everything she felt in only a few words? Taking a breath, she tried again. “This weekend… I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”
“No. I’m glad you came.”
He crossed to her and put his hands on her shoulders. Last night, when he’d done that, his grip had reassured. Now she detested it. It implied an intimacy that didn’t exist and hadn’t for two years.
“I need to give you back your choker.”
“Keep it.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head. “It was too expensive.”
“I want you to have it.”
“Maybe you can sell it online, or maybe return it?”
“Sarah,” he warned. “Stop.”
“Donate it to charity. Do something good with it.”
“Keep it. It looks stunning with that dress.” He traced a fingertip along her collarbone.
The idea that he didn’t care if she wore it for another man sucked the air from her lungs. His words chilled her all the way to her soul.
While he was capable of expressing love, he reserved his compassion for those who’d proved their loyalty.
“Thank you,” she said, simply to end the argument. When she arrived home, she’d take it off, put it in her jewelry box and never look at it again.
Numb, she pulled away from him.
He didn’t try to hold on.
“I hope your mom is okay.” With tears burning her eyes, she fled without looking back.
Chapter Eight
“I finished a third consultation with your Sarah,” Kennedy said.
Reece pushed away from his desk and stood.
He’d been stuck on the same proposal for over an hour. That never happened.
In a recent business magazine profile, he’d been labeled as a master strategist. That was an exaggeration, but he did have a talent for looking at businesses as a whole, from financials to marketing plans, and knowing what steps they should take next, from pursuing an acquisition, to proposing a merger, to selling, liquidating, or even going public.
The fact that he’d closed his office door and set his desk phone to ‘do not disturb’ and that he’d been staring at the same fucking file for twenty minutes told him his mind was elsewhere.
“Did you hear me?” Kennedy asked.
“She’s not my Sarah.”
“Then why am I giving her free business advice?”