His eyes close briefly. “The discussion escalated. I was pissed and said shit I shouldn’t have said. I would never—”
“I know.” I rest my hands on his waist, savoring the heat of his skin.
“You’re not being a pain in the ass or making this complicated. Neither of us will ever blame you for the situation we put you in. And we won’t resent you for the actions and decisions you make. Any anger that arises will never be directed at you. This is between him and me.”
“Did he say that?”
“Yes. We discussed it.”
“I don’t want that negativity between the two of you.” My face falls. “I’ve ruined your friendship.”
“You didn’t do anything, and I’m done talking about him.” He nuzzles my neck. “I owe you an orgasm.”
My thighs clench together, and I sink my nails into his hips. “I don’t think—”
“This is happening, baby. My ego won’t have it any other way.”
“Fuck that—”
“Oh, we’re going to fuck, but right now, I just want to concentrate on you.”
Those are words every girl wants to hear. Add to that the determined look in his eyes, and I’m defenseless, debilitated, and too damn weak in the knees to stop him.
His hands glide down my body, and I whimper. He kicks my feet apart, and my heart skips. Then he sinks his fingers between my legs and devours my moan in a kiss.
“You’re still wearing one of my rings.” He flicks the piercing and growls against my mouth. “I bet it pissed him off every time he saw it.”
I’m tempted to tell him Trace sucked on my pussy ring every chance he got, but I won’t stoop to that level. “I thought we weren’t talking about him.”
“You’re right.” He grips the hair on the back of my head and plunders my mouth.
His minty, masculine taste sweeps over my tongue, and his hand delves through my folds. The roots of my hair spark with delicious pain as he pulls, angling my head and deepening the kiss.
The hard lines of his body pin me against the wall, our skin wet and slipping together, creating a diabolical friction that heats me up and revs my pulse.
His fingers tease my thrumming center, but it’s his primal kiss that gets my juices flowing. His tongue moves with expert strokes, licking the seam of my lips and curling deeper, flicking and rubbing and claiming.
I can come from just his kiss. The spinning, whirling, all-consuming sensation he creates with the movement of his mouth should be illegal. It makes me mindless, starving, horny as fuck, and my inner muscles clench to the point of pain.
“Cole, I need…I need you inside.”
“So impatient.” He bites my lips. “That’s the girl I remember.”
He bends his knees and ducks his head to latch onto a nipple. Then he plunges his fingers into my pussy. Two, three…I don’t know how many fingers, but holy fuck, they spark greedy flames straight to my core.
My hips start to move, and my hands rake through his hair as I hold on and ride his fingers. Pleasure surges through me, and I know I won’t last long. Hell, I was ready to come the instant he took my mouth.
“This is going to be fast.” I drop my head back against the wall, my legs shaking against the onslaught of stimulation.
His teeth sink into my breast. His fingers curl inside me, and his thumb circles my clit. I’m a goner. The orgasm detonates, knocking the air from my lungs and the strength from my legs.
He holds me up, banging me hard and fast with those strong fingers as he laves my nipples and stares up at me with so much love and devotion.
I melt against him, boneless and satiated, hugging his neck and peppering breathy kisses across his face. “I needed that. Thank you.”
It’s a sappy whisper of honesty, but the possessive glint in his eyes suggests my words have a greater meaning to him. I just admitted that I haven’t come in a while, that I didn’t orgasm during the two nights I spent with Trace.
He finishes washing me, lavishing extra attention on the parts that’ll soon be covered up. Then he dries us off and leads me into my bedroom.
I enter the closet and change into a soft pair of blue velour pants and a matching hoodie. When I step out, I find him sitting on the corner of my bed, with his elbows on his thighs and a towel around his waist.
His jaw works, and he rubs it, lifting his gaze to mine. “His penthouse only has one bedroom.”
I don’t know how he knows that, but I can guess where he’s going with it, and my stomach caves in.
We won’t resent you for the actions and decisions you make.
His words sink in, giving me strength as I lower to the bed beside him.
“You slept in his bed.” His hand clenches between his knees. “With him.”
It isn’t a question, so I remain silent, waiting for him to continue.
“I’ll be sleeping in here from now on.” He stands and strides toward the door.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t trust your self-restraint.”
“And I don’t trust his.”
We engage in a silent glaring stand-off before I sigh and lower my head. Arguing is futile. All I can do is give and love and listen, with the hope that I won’t lose my voice or be used in the process.
That night, I climb off the stage, stiff and sore and more exhausted than usual. My joints protest every little movement, and I dread the short walk to my car. It’s been a grueling night of dancing, and I need sleep in the worst way.
Trace meets me at the front of the restaurant, looking as chipper and sexy as always in his tailored suit. I stop beside him, shoulders sagging as he studies me with questions burning in his blue eyes. Are you staying with me tonight? Going home? Did you fuck him? Did you choose him?
“I’m staying.” For no other reason than my legs ache and my eyelids feel like sandpaper. “I’m really tired.”
Smiling an almost-smile, he takes my hand and leads me to the elevator.
I lean against him as we ascend to the 31st floor. “I don’t know why my ass is dragging like this.”
“Late night last night?” His tone is light-hearted, but jealousy clips the edges.
“We watched a movie.” I toss him a glare. “Nothing to get snippy about.”
“I’m not the one being snippy.” The elevator opens, and he lifts me off my feet, cradling my lolling body against his chest. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know.” I lean my head against his shoulder and take savoring breaths of his aftershave. “There’s nothing going on in my head, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m just drained.”
He carries me into the penthouse, down the hall, and through his bedroom. When he reaches the bathroom, he sets me on the vanity and starts the shower.
“I’ll get you something to sleep in.” He ambles toward the door, hands clasped behind him, like a policeman patrolling his territory. “Do you need anything else?”
“You and your arms. That’s what I want to sleep in.”
Steam from the shower curls around his tall frame as he pauses with his back to me and lowers his head. His shoulders rise and fall. Then he pivots and retraces his steps.
He has that look, the predatory flicker in his eyes. Like he wants to eat me. If I weren’t so damn drowsy, I’d give him a playful reaction. But all I can muster is a faint smile.
When he reaches me, he leans his brow against mine and strokes my hair. “Do you need help in the shower?”
There isn’t a hint of insinuation in his voice, but two showers with two different men on the same day… That’s a big no. I turn down his offer with a shake of my head.
I should contact Cole and let him know I won’t be home tonight. Except my phone is in the dressing room downstairs. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need a favor.” Other than the practical reason for asking this, I have a strong need to right some of the wrongs between the two people I love most in the world. “Will you let Cole know I’m not feeling well and that I’ll be staying here tonight?”