About That Night
Page 65
Three of them, actually. But he wasn’t ready for that yet. His gaze fell to her panties. “Take those off and straddle me.”
“Somebody’s getting bossy again.”
Yes, somebody was. Because somebody was determined to break her no-hands ban before it killed him. When she was straddling him once again, he propped up on his elbows and crooked his finger, beckoning her. “I need one of those br**sts in my mouth.”
“Very bossy,” she said. But she did it anyway, gasping when he circled his tongue around her nipple, teasing it into a stiff, hard peak. Instinctively, she began sliding against him, his c**k nestled right across her warm, wet core. He was so close to being inside her, but he wanted control—wanted all of her. She moaned again as he rolled her other nipple in his mouth and thrust against her.
“I want you inside me,” she said breathlessly.
“Ask me to touch you.”
He would’ve smiled when she groaned in frustration if he hadn’t been so near to the edge himself. He used his legs to spread her open as he rocked his hips against her.
Her body trembled as she finally caved. “Touch me, Kyle. Now,” she begged.
Thank f**king God.
Kyle slid his hands over the silky skin of her back, tangling them in her long hair as his mouth took hers possessively. “Flip over. On your stomach.”
Her eyes flashed at his words, and she slid off him and lay on the bed, watching as he reached around on the floor and found his pants. He took a condom out of his wallet, tore open the wrapper, and rolled it on. “You should probably start keeping these here,” he told her. “I plan to be inside you a lot when we’re in this apartment.”
Then he climbed between her legs and gently lifted her hips. “Up on your knees,” he said huskily. He nudged his c**k into the wet entrance between her legs, sliding in and out while her tight, slick passage stretched to fit him, squeezing him every inch along the way. “I want to take you hard,” he said in a thick voice.
“Yes,” she groaned, her hands clutching the blanket.
He gripped her hips and began to move, first in smooth, steady strokes, and then taking her faster, deeper, wanting to claim her and make her his. When he was inside her like this, there were no rules, no complications; neither her job nor his past existed, there was nothing else except the two of them; and this moment, when everything felt so right and so f**king good.
“Kyle,” she said urgently.
“I’ve got you.” He reached down between her legs and began to tease her. She braced herself on her forearms and thrust back against him, crying out when her orgasm hit her. Wave after wave gripped his c**k as he gripped her hips and thrust deep into her, again and again, until he exploded, the force of his orgasm so strong he had to slow down and hold her tightly to him, his jaw clenched as he groaned and finally shuddered to a stop.
Panting, they collapsed on the bed, a thin sheen of sweat covering their bodies.
“Better than…not bad?” he asked, out of breath.
Her voice was muffled, her face buried in the blanket as she lay motionless and seemingly utterly spent. “Hell, yes.”
With a grin, he rested his forehead against her back.
About time.
Twenty-six
THREE DAYS LATER, Rylann met Rae at the Starbucks across the street from the Federal Building for a midafternoon break. She was on a supersecret stealth mission—Operation Setup—and, deriving inspiration from the FBI agents with whom she often worked, she’d crafted the perfect cover story: she’d claimed that she wanted to get Rae’s advice about the situation with Kyle. In truth, however, she had a whole sneak attack worked out—which was necessary, because if Rae caught one whiff of Operation Setup, she’d be out the door in two seconds flat.
The beauty of this situation was that even if Rylann’s mission failed, no one would ever be the wiser. Having worked with Cade for a month and a half, she knew his routine: barring a court appearance or meetings, he went to Starbucks at three o’clock sharp every day. Which meant—as Rylann checked her watch—that he would be arriving in approximately eleven minutes.
She and Rae sat at a table within view of the counter, where Cade would see them. Naturally, he would come over to say hi, at which point she would “casually” introduce him to Rae. The rest was up to them.
While they enjoyed their drinks, Rylann caught Rae up on the latest developments with Kyle—being careful, of course, to keep her voice low whenever saying his name.
“So Tuesday was the last time you saw him?” Rae asked.
“Well, technically it was Wednesday morning,” Rylann noted with a smile. Since then, Kyle had been out of town, meeting in Silicon Valley with a young executive at a software company whom he wanted to recruit for his security consulting business.
Rae studied her. “You’re doing the glowing thing again.”
Rylann pointed to her latte. “It’s the caffeine. Stimulates blood circulation.”
“You like him.”
Rylann shrugged. “We have fun together. I’m not ready to call it anything more than that yet.” She saw Rae’s look. “What?”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”
Rylann scoffed as she picked up her latte. “Why don’t people ever say that to men when they want to keep things casual? Women can’t have fun, too?”
“Of course they can. But here’s a general rule of thumb: if you’re still grinning like the friggin’ Cheshire Cat three days after seeing the guy, things have moved a hair beyond fun.”
“Somebody’s getting bossy again.”
Yes, somebody was. Because somebody was determined to break her no-hands ban before it killed him. When she was straddling him once again, he propped up on his elbows and crooked his finger, beckoning her. “I need one of those br**sts in my mouth.”
“Very bossy,” she said. But she did it anyway, gasping when he circled his tongue around her nipple, teasing it into a stiff, hard peak. Instinctively, she began sliding against him, his c**k nestled right across her warm, wet core. He was so close to being inside her, but he wanted control—wanted all of her. She moaned again as he rolled her other nipple in his mouth and thrust against her.
“I want you inside me,” she said breathlessly.
“Ask me to touch you.”
He would’ve smiled when she groaned in frustration if he hadn’t been so near to the edge himself. He used his legs to spread her open as he rocked his hips against her.
Her body trembled as she finally caved. “Touch me, Kyle. Now,” she begged.
Thank f**king God.
Kyle slid his hands over the silky skin of her back, tangling them in her long hair as his mouth took hers possessively. “Flip over. On your stomach.”
Her eyes flashed at his words, and she slid off him and lay on the bed, watching as he reached around on the floor and found his pants. He took a condom out of his wallet, tore open the wrapper, and rolled it on. “You should probably start keeping these here,” he told her. “I plan to be inside you a lot when we’re in this apartment.”
Then he climbed between her legs and gently lifted her hips. “Up on your knees,” he said huskily. He nudged his c**k into the wet entrance between her legs, sliding in and out while her tight, slick passage stretched to fit him, squeezing him every inch along the way. “I want to take you hard,” he said in a thick voice.
“Yes,” she groaned, her hands clutching the blanket.
He gripped her hips and began to move, first in smooth, steady strokes, and then taking her faster, deeper, wanting to claim her and make her his. When he was inside her like this, there were no rules, no complications; neither her job nor his past existed, there was nothing else except the two of them; and this moment, when everything felt so right and so f**king good.
“Kyle,” she said urgently.
“I’ve got you.” He reached down between her legs and began to tease her. She braced herself on her forearms and thrust back against him, crying out when her orgasm hit her. Wave after wave gripped his c**k as he gripped her hips and thrust deep into her, again and again, until he exploded, the force of his orgasm so strong he had to slow down and hold her tightly to him, his jaw clenched as he groaned and finally shuddered to a stop.
Panting, they collapsed on the bed, a thin sheen of sweat covering their bodies.
“Better than…not bad?” he asked, out of breath.
Her voice was muffled, her face buried in the blanket as she lay motionless and seemingly utterly spent. “Hell, yes.”
With a grin, he rested his forehead against her back.
About time.
Twenty-six
THREE DAYS LATER, Rylann met Rae at the Starbucks across the street from the Federal Building for a midafternoon break. She was on a supersecret stealth mission—Operation Setup—and, deriving inspiration from the FBI agents with whom she often worked, she’d crafted the perfect cover story: she’d claimed that she wanted to get Rae’s advice about the situation with Kyle. In truth, however, she had a whole sneak attack worked out—which was necessary, because if Rae caught one whiff of Operation Setup, she’d be out the door in two seconds flat.
The beauty of this situation was that even if Rylann’s mission failed, no one would ever be the wiser. Having worked with Cade for a month and a half, she knew his routine: barring a court appearance or meetings, he went to Starbucks at three o’clock sharp every day. Which meant—as Rylann checked her watch—that he would be arriving in approximately eleven minutes.
She and Rae sat at a table within view of the counter, where Cade would see them. Naturally, he would come over to say hi, at which point she would “casually” introduce him to Rae. The rest was up to them.
While they enjoyed their drinks, Rylann caught Rae up on the latest developments with Kyle—being careful, of course, to keep her voice low whenever saying his name.
“So Tuesday was the last time you saw him?” Rae asked.
“Well, technically it was Wednesday morning,” Rylann noted with a smile. Since then, Kyle had been out of town, meeting in Silicon Valley with a young executive at a software company whom he wanted to recruit for his security consulting business.
Rae studied her. “You’re doing the glowing thing again.”
Rylann pointed to her latte. “It’s the caffeine. Stimulates blood circulation.”
“You like him.”
Rylann shrugged. “We have fun together. I’m not ready to call it anything more than that yet.” She saw Rae’s look. “What?”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”
Rylann scoffed as she picked up her latte. “Why don’t people ever say that to men when they want to keep things casual? Women can’t have fun, too?”
“Of course they can. But here’s a general rule of thumb: if you’re still grinning like the friggin’ Cheshire Cat three days after seeing the guy, things have moved a hair beyond fun.”
