“Trapezoid.”
She felt him smile against the curve of her neck. “That isn’t a color.”
“That’s how much I care about the sky right now.”
“Mmm. Be careful.” His grip on her tightened, the edge is his voice sharpening. “The doors to this floor are locked, and I have Lane standing guard. He won’t come in no matter what he hears.”
She could feel him growing hard against her, sending hot desire racing up her spine.
“I’m feeling pretty crazed for you right now. You could be putting yourself in a lot of danger, Rush.”
Everything had gone liquid inside her, and her heart had decided to set up camp in her throat. But there was no fear. Only pounding, urgent need. “Playing it safe is overrated.”
Donovan spun her around at that, his blue gaze colliding with hers and breaking her open inside. God, she’d missed him. More than she’d wanted to admit to herself. So much so it almost hurt to look at him. He brushed his lips over hers in a slow, reverent glide. “Yes. It is.”
And she knew then he wasn’t talking about sex games or role-plays in that moment. She heard it in his voice and saw it in the naked expression on his face. She’d spent her whole life playing it safe, but so had he. No more. Neither of them knew what the future would hold. They all had ghosts and demons and challenges. Everyone did. But there’d be no more running. They’d take each other’s hand and plunge into the unknown together. That’s what life was. That was living.
That was love.
He cupped her face, tracing her cheekbones with her thumbs. “Guess it’s time for us to be amazing.”
She smiled, the slow, sweet rush almost too much to hold all at once. “I think we already are. Always have been.”
He lowered his head, putting his mouth to hers, and poured all the longing from the time apart into the kiss. Lips clashing, tongues twining, breath mingling. Their hands moved everywhere, mapping each other like they’d worried they’d forgotten each peak and valley. Like they were afraid one of them would dissolve into an apparition. Like they would wake up. How many times over the last few weeks had she dreamed of this and woken up? But none of that happened. Just hungry, breathless kissing and whispered, desperate words. He was back. They were good. They were amazing.
And they couldn’t wait any longer.
When Donovan couldn’t get his hand successfully up her shirt, he grabbed the collar of her blouse and yanked. Buttons went flying and plinked onto the wood floors. All of her breath whooshed out of her, the glimmer of violence like a heat flare to her system. He cupped her breast with a hot hand, panting his words as he kissed her neck. “Don’t think I can be gentle.”
She tilted her head back and moaned as he bit her shoulder. “Good.”
Whatever he wanted he could take. She wanted him to take it. Donovan growled and divested her of her bra, making her nipples go taut in the cool air, and then his mouth was on her, sucking and nipping and making shocks of electricity move straight downward. She gripped his hair in her hands, tugging hard and losing her own hold on control.
“Fuck yes,” he said against her skin. “Hurt me, Rush. Show me how much you need this right now.”
He guided her against the wall and kissed down her stomach, making her belly jump and flutter. She didn’t let go of his hair. It’d been so long since she’d been touched and the adrenaline was making everything weak. She could dissolve into a puddle any second. “Please. Please.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He fumbled with the button on her shorts and then yanked them, along with her underwear, down and off. His thumbs grazed her over her crease, and they both groaned at how obviously turned on she was. “Every night that I stroked myself, I thought about you like this. So hot and sweet and open for me.”
The back of her head tapped against the wall, the need to come like a hammer pounding at every one of her senses. She was burning up from the inside out.
Then his mouth was on her and fingers plunged deep and streaks of light moved behind her eyelids, everything going multihued and blurry. Oh, God. She held on to his hair like it was her only rope over a ravine. His tongue lashed her, teeth grazing her, everything imprecise and messy. Ravenous. He was off leash and devouring her, like he couldn’t help but glut himself on her. He grabbed her thigh and lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, spreading her open even wider and his tongue moved at her entrance. Licking her around his fingers, the sound of her arousal and his wet mouth the lewdest, sexiest soundtrack she’d ever heard.
“You’re gushing, baby,” he said in between kisses and licks. “I could eat you all night like fucking candy.”
She dug her heel into his back, shameless now, riding his face and putting him where she needed him. She gasped out her response. “As long as there’s cock involved somewhere on the menu.”
He laughed, a surprised bark of a thing, and he stroked his fingers against her swollen flesh. “I fucking love that about you, Rush. You blush so pretty, but you’re so goddamned dirty beneath that.” He tucked two fingers inside her. “And I promise. Cock will be heavily involved in tonight’s activities.”
“Excellent.”
“But right now you’re going to come for me. You’re going to come hard on my face and then I’m going to fuck you over that desk. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen you bent over for me.”
She didn’t have time to respond because then his mouth was on her again and his fingers were pumping and any thought she’d ever had in her life drained out of her brain. All that was left was sensation and need and the pulse, pulse, pulse of her clit beneath his lips and her pussy around his fingers.
Her gaze locked on the bookcase across from her. All her textbooks, her bound research studies, all her academic awards. It was the bookcase of a studious, diligent woman. A woman who had stayed on the smart, safe path. But reflected in one plaque she could see herself and Donovan, her leg thrown wantonly over his shoulder, that dark head between her thighs like she was the most decadent meal of his life. And the two things seemed to merge into one. The respected doctor. The sensual woman. She could be both. She would be.
Her eyes fell shut as Donovan hit her sweet spot and everything fell away. His hair turned to hot silk between her fingers and every nerve ending on her body lit up. She came with a loud cry and rocked her hips against him, unashamed to take. And he gave her every bit she needed, sending her flying, and holding her up when she started to coast down.
But he didn’t give her long to stop spinning. Before she’d caught her breath, he stood and lifted her into his arms. He hadn’t taken off his button-down or even unfastened his pants and she was a naked, wet mess in his arms. She couldn’t find it in herself to worry about it. She reached up and touched his stubbled jaw. “You’re good at that.”
He smiled, his lips still shiny from the pleasure he’d given her. “You look drunk. You going to fall asleep on me, Rush?”
She dragged her nails along the edge of his jaw. “No, you promised me something, doctor. I expect to get it. I’ve been waiting a long time.”
Possessiveness flared in his eyes. “I’ve been waiting my whole life.”
Warmth spread through her, and Donovan set her on her feet and gave her a soft kiss. Then he turned her around. The desk loomed in her view. It was a new one. Eli had replaced the other as promised. But all of her mundane office things were on it. Files. Papers. Supplies.
Donovan shoved it all to the far end and then stepped behind her. The sound of his belt being undone sent a hard shiver through her. He grabbed her hands and drew her arms behind her back. The belt wrapped around her wrists as he secured her arms. The feel of the leather against her, the snugness of the restraint sent her blood fizzing.
He brushed the tip of his nose along that sensitive spot behind her ear. “Every time you sit at this desk from now on, you’re going to think about what I’m about to do to you. You’re going to get warm and wet while trying to do your work. You’re goin
g to want to touch yourself. It’s going to be torture. And I’m going to love it.”
He pressed a hand to her back and guided her down. Her naked skin pressed to the cool surface and everything went extra sensitive. She closed her eyes, a fresh wave of arousal going through her. He checked the tightness of the belt and then went over to the cabinet.
“What are you doing?” Her breaths were coming sharp and fast by the time he returned.
“I think I left you with an unfinished list.” She jolted when he gripped her thighs, spreading her stance wide. “Easy now.”
One careful finger brushed over her back opening. Her entire body tried to clench. “Oh. Oh.”
He teased her oh-so-gently, activating sensations that made her toes curl in her sandals. “I seem to remember a particular fantasy I wrote for the study that you left copious notes on once upon a time. The handwriting was so messy on a certain part that I knew your hands hand been shaking. And the ink had been smudged. Like wet fingers had touched it.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on not making a sound, on not letting him know how he was affecting her.
Donovan’s blunt nails raked over her ass cheek. “Oh, how many times did I stroke my cock with thoughts of that? The quiet girl down the hall had taken my fantasy about a woman getting held down for anal sex and had touched herself over it? Do you know what that did to me? Thinking about what you might have done to yourself?” He pushed his erection against the seam of her ass, the denim of his jeans coarse against her and making everything even more sensitive. “Did you try a finger here? To see what it might feel like?”
Marin bit her lip so hard she worried she’d cut it. She knew exactly which scenario he was talking about. She’d been shocked and appalled and ridiculously turned on by it. At eighteen, she hadn’t even realized women did that. But God, it’d put ideas in her head. And she had touched herself, had learned how sensitive that part of her could be. She would’ve never admitted that out loud.
Until now. “Yes.”
The sound Donovan made in the back of his throat—like pain and pleasure and everything sexy and wonderful rolled into one—made her admission worth it. “Shameless. Who could’ve imagined?”
“You made me that way.”
He shifted and something nudged against her sex. Something smooth and cool. “Tell me again the color of the sky.”
His voice sounded strained now, tense. He was riding an edge.
“It’s green, Donovan. It’s always green with you.”
He let out a breath and then pushed whatever he’d been teasing her sex with forward. It was small, slid in easily, and partially curved around the outside to press against her clit. She groaned when the vibration started.
She screwed her eyes shut, breathing hard. She felt too keyed up already and a vibrator was going to send her over again quickly, but then cool liquid slid along the crack of her ass. The unusual sensation had her brain honing in on that one spot, forgetting the pleasure the vibrator was stirring.
She shifted restlessly against the desk, the ticklish feeling both sensual and maddening. The overwhelming ache to be penetrated everywhere at once was new but desperate. Her senses had been dialed to eleven and now they wanted to be at fifteen. She wanted Donovan to have everything she had to offer. She’d given him her virginity. Now she wanted to give him another of her firsts. She wanted him to be all her firsts.
His fingers coasted down the backs of her thighs and he spread her open. She’d thought she’d been vulnerable to him that first time over a desk, but this was so much more. Every secret place of hers was there for the taking.
He smoothed the lubricant over her, massaging her, and making everything crave touch as the vibrator did its work against her clit. The need for release beat at her like crashing waves but she would need more. This wouldn’t be enough. She needed the edge. Her teeth clenched. “Donovan. Please.”
“You don’t want me to rush this, gorgeous. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He pushed a finger inside and she moaned, the pressure and sensation making her ears ring. But she rocked back against him. He thought she knew all her secrets but he didn’t. He didn’t know that she’d made good use of that toy cabinet. He wouldn’t hurt her. She’d felt what her body could accommodate already.
“Fuck me, Donovan,” she panted, her hands flexing in the bindings. “I can handle you.”
He gripped her hip, and she could sense how hard it was for him to be acting with restraint. She didn’t want that restraint. She wanted the chains cut. She wanted to go into that sexy, dark place together.
“I read that fantasy. I know what happens next,” she said, the words coming hot and fast now. “I’m not scared of you. Take me like that. I crave it, too.”
She thought he would balk again. But then his fingers were gone and the sound of a condom packet being ripped open filled the room. She could feel his heat behind her as he stripped out of his clothes.
And then he was spreading her open and the head of his cock pushed against her opening. It felt impossibly big, too much. But she trusted her body and she trusted him, breathing and forcing her muscles to relax.
He thrust forward, slow but unyielding and after one fierce show of resistance, her body gave, opening to him and lighting her up from the inside out. They both made desperate sounds. Hers sharp, his belly-deep and gravel-laced.
“That’s what you crave, Rush. To be fucked hard in the ass? To be forced?” The words were like bullets. His thrusts sliding long and deep.
“I crave you.”
He grabbed her hips with hard fingers and dragged her back onto him, seating himself to the hilt. Her eyes wanted to roll back in her head. But everything felt aware, alive, amazing.
She let out a long groan. “Fuck.”
That’s all he needed. The green light. He went for it then. Like the fantasy. Hard and rough and so goddamned wonderful she didn’t even recognize the sounds she was making. She didn’t know what to focus on, everything felt so lit up. But it was all good. So very good. Her skin went slick and slid along the desk, the vibrator humming, and his cock filling her.
The girl who had once turned red even thinking about these things now was begging for it, feeling every bit of it, loving it.
And when they each came a few minutes later, their sounds echoing off the walls of her office, she knew then why she’d waited all those years. Somehow her subconscious had known all along. She hadn’t waited because she was too shy or too busy or too innocent. She’d waited because a regular guy wouldn’t have been able to keep up with her. She’d waited for this. For him.
She’d waited for the real thing.
And now she had it.
They didn’t talk much as they got themselves and the office back together or while they walked back to his place. But they didn’t need to. She felt content and calm and right.
And when they curled up in bed later that night, the photo of San Francisco gone from the wall, Donovan put his lips to her ear, his arm wrapping around her. “I hear her in the hall. I don’t know who she is or where she’s from. I didn’t know she was listening. I didn’t know she could hear my secrets. But I see how she’s looking at me. I know she sees how turned on I am. And she thinks it’s from my work. She thinks it’s from what she heard. She thinks it’s for something else. And maybe it was at first. But it’s not now.” He gathered her against his chest, his words soft against her senses. “Because I’ve never seen a more beautiful girl. And I’ve never been looked at the way she’s looking at me. Like she sees who I really am. And when I talk to her night after night, it’s over. I’m done. I know in that moment that even though I don’t know how it can ever be, how I could ever be right for her, I want her to be mine. I want to believe in fate and fairy tales and happy endings.”
Tears gathered behind Marin’s lids.
“I want to believe in The One.” He kissed her hair and breathed her in. “I believe.”
The bigness of
feeling moved through her like tremors. She turned in his arms and looked into those blue eyes and felt that love resonate in her bones. And she knew then that whatever life threw their way, they had it. They would be okay.
No.
They would be amazing.
EPILOGUE
Four months later
Parrain’s Po-Boys was empty tonight except for the raucous table in the middle of the restaurant. Marin’s colleagues had reserved the place for the evening and were in high spirits as they ordered everything on the menu—fried things landing on their table like delicious flavor bombs and drinks flowing freely.
Marin hadn’t wanted any big thing made over her probation turning into an official position, but Ori had looked at her like she’d said she wanted to wear black to her wedding. So Marin had been made passenger on the party ship, and Ori had sent the word out. But now that Marin was surrounded by the group, she was glad Ori had gone through the trouble.
Though Oriana had made one gaffe on the guest list. Not knowing the history, Ori had invited Elle McCray to the festivities. Marin had been shocked to see her walk in. They’d managed to forge a professional relationship at work, but they were never going to be friends. However, McCray had shown up and had even brought a little congratulations gift of expensive wine. Maybe she was trying to build bridges. Because, God knows, she didn’t look comfortable being there.
Marin actually had a pang of sympathy for her, realizing for the first time that maybe Elle wasn’t lonely by choice. Maybe she didn’t know how to be with other people like this. So before the party got going, Marin pulled Lane aside and asked if he’d try to put McCray at ease.
Lane’s brows had gone high. “You want me to hang out with Dr. Ice? She hates me. I once overheard her call me a hooker to someone.”