Follow Page 17

  “And you almost hid behind the doorframe when she was on the edge of her bed. It was kind of like we weren’t supposed to be there.”

  “Yeah,” she breathes. “Exactly.”

  “I could feel through the camera what you were thinking.” I shake my head. “Teresa, I’m not an expert, but I doubt there’s a lot of people who can accomplish that. You’re fucking good, baby. Really good.” She ducks her head, but I bring her chin back up. “I can remember every second of it. You did that.”

  There’s hope in her eyes when she looks up at me, and I never want to see her looking any other way. “This is the film I sent in with my application.”

  “Then you’re as good as accepted,” I respond, with total conviction. “You did mention they have a campus in New York, right?”

  We both smile, slowly gravitating toward one another. “I might have.”

  I growl, stealing a quick kiss from her mouth. “Go shower. I’m going to order.”

  “Second thoughts on the tie-dye ensemble?”

  Garnering my will, I climb off the bed and pick up the hotel phone. “Second thoughts about you being dressed at all.” Before I can dial, Teresa bounds off the bed and throws herself into my arms. I don’t even have to think. I just drop the phone and hold her against me, wondering if she can hear my heart hammering.

  “Thanks,” she whispers. “Thank you.”

  My raw throat won’t let me do anything but nod as she floats away, closing herself in the bathroom.

  *

  We eat dinner outside, Teresa sitting across from me, framed by the stars and swallowed up in a giant, white hotel towel. When we finish, I leave to take my own shower, and when I return, Teresa has moved inside. She hasn’t seen me yet where I stand in the hallway entrance, drying my hair with a towel. There’s one around my waist, too, but my thickening cock is about to dislodge it. I don’t just want Teresa again. I need her with a vengeance. One quickie in the woods with this woman and my definition of sex has changed, never to be reverted.

  We’re at such ease with each other since this afternoon, I’m having a hard time believing she could say no to us flying back to New York together. But I’m not taking any chances. I’ve bought myself some time. She’s not going anywhere tonight and I’m not going to push for answers right now when the mood between us is relaxed. Trusting.

  Yeah, she’s sprawled out in a shit-load of pillows on the living room floor, wearing nothing but the white hotel robe, her hair still a touch damp from a shower. She’s got a glass of wine in one hand, scratching Southpaw’s belly with the other while he rumbles with delight.

  This is what contentment feels like. I’m not giving it up.

  Haven’t I learned throughout my life that actions speak louder than words? I’m going to spend the rest of tonight showing her what we’d be like together. Show her what I do with the trust she gives me.

  Like that little fantasy of hers she confided.

  Anticipation sends blood rushing south to my dick…and as if she can hear my flesh stretching and growing swollen, Teresa looks at me over her shoulder. Just as quickly, her gaze falls to my towel and the full salute I’m giving her beneath.

  “Has dessert arrived?” She sips her wine. “I’m usually more of a chocolate girl.”

  Woman, you are locked down. I watch the way her robe gapes, teasing me with a sexy view of her right tit and lust begins to expand my lungs, my blood. I’d like to knock the wine out of her hand, flip her onto her stomach and take the razor’s edge off my need, but I’ve got a plan for tonight. One I hope will satisfy her and convince her she can trust me. She can. So I only allow a smile to play around my mouth as I join her in the living room, sitting on the edge of the couch. The position puts her eye level with my lap, and it doesn’t escape my notice how she squirms a little, wetting her lips.

  So I lean back and grip myself through the terry cloth. “I could take this down to the bar and have a drink. Wait for you to arrive.” Cataloguing her reaction, I slide my palm over the curve of my cock. “You could be the girl I ordered.”

  “Could I?” she whispers.

  “Only if you want to be.” Adjusting myself to one side, I lean forward and reach out to cup Teresa’s chin. “Teresa, you already know I’d rather everyone in the room—in any room—treat you with respect. I’d rather walk in with my hand on your back and hold out a chair for you. But acting like we’re something else in front of strangers we’ll never see again…in order to get you off good and hard? Woman, I’ll do what it takes and enjoy the fuck out of it.”

  A few beats pass and she drains her wine, which would make me laugh if my cock wasn’t throbbing like a bastard against my stomach.

  “What if I want to stop?”

  “Then you tell me to stop. I will.” My thumb traces her cheekbones, my heart booming when she leans into the touch. “And I’ll bring you upstairs for chocolate cake.”

  She blows out a breath. “With ice cream?”

  “A gallon of that shit.” Her mouth opens and I let my thumb tuck inside. “We don’t have to do this, Teresa. I could lay you down on that carpet and sink my tongue in so deep between those thighs, you’ll scream your throat raw.”

  “God, Will.” Her eyes glitter. “The way I let you speak to me.”

  “Let me?” I ease off the couch and drop to my knees, putting me a good foot above her. “If I stopped speaking to you how I do, you’d hate it.”

  “Maybe. Let’s not find out,” she murmurs, head tipping back to look up at me. “I always thought this would stay in my private thoughts. Playing it out in real life never occurred to me. Not until you.”

  “I’m telling you, baby. Chocolate cake and—”

  “Your tongue. Believe me, I remember.”

  “I was going to say ice cream, you pervert.”

  A laugh breaks free of her lips and hits me right in the stomach. “No, I’m not backing out. I…oh my God.” She slaps a hand over her eyes. “I think I’m excited.”

  I lean down and laze my tongue into her mouth, rubbing it against hers until she moans, her fingers climbing my bare abdomen, like she’s unconscious of the action. “How far do you want to take it, Teresa?”

  Thoughts zoom behind her eyes. “I trust you to know how far to take it.” A crease forms between her brows. “I…trust you.”

  My pulse goes fucking wild. Not throwing her down on the carpet is growing harder by the second, so I stand up, helping Teresa to her feet. “I’ll get dressed. After I leave, give me fifteen minutes before you follow.” I tip up her chin, waiting until she’s focused on me, our breaths matching. “You come straight to me. As far as you’re concerned, there are no other men in the room. That’s my only rule.”

  She goes up on her toes, her eyes steady on mine. “I think…you being the only man in any room where I’m standing is a given, Will. It’s just you.”

  I’m left with my heart lodged in my throat as she goes to change.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Teresa

  I stare back at my reflection in the full-length mirror, which, of course, has giant steer horns mounted on top. Might as well face it. In six-inch heels and a little red dress that ends just below my butt, I look like I’m hoping this story ends with Richard Gere scaling my fire escape. Or Will, rather.

  Definitely Will.

  The man won’t stop surprising me. Or turning me on. And I’m so turned on right now, I could hump another sink. When Will said he’d rather I be viewed with respect, I know he meant it. So this effort he’s making tonight is totally about me. Oh, he’s going to have a good time. I’ll make sure of it. But that kind of selflessness in a man is something I haven’t seen before…and it’s pulling me in deeper.

  I’ve fallen hard.

  There’s a vicious twist in my middle, but I force my chin up and ignore it. I’m not going to think negative thoughts tonight. Tomorrow will be soon enough. I’ve been a dutiful daughter and protective sister for a long time. Maybe I can let t
onight just be about Will and me? Without letting anything else intrude? Whatever happens when the lid comes off the box, I’ll have this night to remember.

  Fighting back another wave of dread, I lean toward the mirror and apply the nude lipstick in my hand, flipping the tube over to add a glossy sheen. I can’t believe I’m getting ready to go downstairs and role play. To trust a man to be my partner in this scene created by my own imagination. I’ve always been a little embarrassed by this secret of mine. Not anymore.

  Since I met Will, I’ve won an arm-wrestling contest, saved a dog from drowning, and I’m about to fully embrace my wayward libido.

  When a flash of nerves hits me, I remember Will’s face after watching my film. I think I’ll replay that moment every day until forever. Maybe I am good. Maybe film school isn’t such a pipe dream after all. Saying those things to myself and remembering the awe in Will’s tone while he peppered me with questions give me the push I need. I got this.

  Taking one final look at myself in the mirror, I tug on my light, black, belted jacket and step back to survey the goods. I’m not a shy woman by any stretch, but then again, this isn’t my usual crowd downstairs. At the club, I’m surrounded by older men, but they’ve either fallen on hard times due to their gambling addiction. Or they’re low-grade criminals on the take. This hotel is bursting at the seams with money and influence—and I’m going to strut in wearing stripper heels, looking like I have nothing but my birthday suit beneath this jacket.

  When I said I trusted Will in this, though…I meant it.

  My palms start to sweat on the way to the elevators, so I blow on them, shake them out. I bypass the main bank and travel to the farthest ones on our floor, which I noticed earlier will take me down to the hotel’s side exit. Thankfully, I don’t pass anyone on the way out of the hotel. I circle around to the front and enter, ignoring inquisitive looks from the front desk and taking the first right hallway to the hotel bar. It’s noisy. Crowded. Before I step one heeled foot inside, I can tell that some sporting event is showing on the television, thanks to the cheers and groans.

  A lot of the patrons have their backs turned to the entrance, most of them facing a large projection screen on the far side of the room. Some of them do turn, though, eyeing me top to bottom beneath heavy eyelids—and their lack of any discernable expression almost makes me lose my nerve. There is one man off to the side wearing a white baseball cap and I stop breathing, but he turns with a laugh and it’s not him. Too old to be the man who was following us. Still…our tail could be here. Couldn’t he? Could be watching from the shadows and reporting back to Silas. I haven’t spotted him since the day he drove past us on the highway. I’ve been hoping he either didn’t make it past hotel security without a reservation and the cost for a room was too astronomical, but it’s impossible to be sure. And that damn baseball cap is all I remember. His features are a blur, so if he wasn’t wearing the hat, I’m not even sure I’d recognize him.

  When I see Will, everything fades into the background. My nerves, my fear. All of it. There’s only him.

  He’s sitting at the dark end of the bar, away from the crowd, turned sideways in his seat, a highball of whiskey resting on the bar beside him. He sits unmoving, while somehow crackling with animal energy, his eyes burning like twin brands. The sound around me fades. The heels on my feet stop feeling ridiculous and make my calves tingle instead. Or maybe it’s the way Will’s eyes slide up from my ankles to rest on my thighs, the hem of my jacket.

  There’s no one in the room but us, so moving toward him in the void of noise is the most natural thing in the world. Like being pulled slowly, sensually by a humming magnet. Except the magnet is hotter than sin and talks about giving me head like it’s an Olympic event.

  I stop when I reach Will, who is already calling to the bartender for a glass of white wine. Thankful for the extra seconds to collect myself, I turn to face the bar and set down my purse. “Mr. Caruso?”

  “That’s right.” While the bartender drops off my wine and glides away, Will takes a long drink of whiskey, letting his gaze travel over my bottom. “Very nice.”

  Heat climbs the insides of my thighs and sinks low in my belly, colliding right in the middle. “Thank you.”

  He sits forward, his hand opening wide to palm my hips, squeezing, testing. “Would you like to take off your jacket and show me the rest?”

  Dampness forms between my legs. This is it. It’s happening. I’m the merchandise, just like I’ve thought about in the dark so many times while touching myself. I’m already so hot, I could climb on his lap now and ride him into the sunset, but the thrill of the game is only beginning, isn’t it? Good Lord. By the time it’s over, it could kill me. “Sure, of course,” I breathe, unbuckling the belt and tugging it off my shoulders—

  Will’s hands find my hips, turning me toward him in a blur. I’m caught off guard and the loss of balance sends me into the V of his thighs. “The preview is just for me.” A muscle flexes in his jaw. “No one else.”

  “Right.” That reminder of Will lurking beneath the surface, possessive and steadfast, gives me a boost of confidence. Enough to let my jacket fall to the floor, leaving me in the tiny red dress. “Am I to your taste, Mr. Caruso?”

  “You inspire tastes I didn’t even know I had.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see his hand ball into a tight fist on the bar. A hungry sound leaves his mouth, but he tries to hide it by clearing his throat. Nonetheless, his voice sounds like ripping Velcro when he speaks. “I bet those pretty tits get you into a lot of trouble.” His eyes tick to mine. “Do you like being in trouble?”

  My bottom tingles where he slapped me yesterday, the memory sending a bead of sweat sliding down my back. “Yes. If that’s what you want,” I rush to add.

  “You’ll like what I like, won’t you?” He runs his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. “That’s the advantage of ordering only the best.”

  Oh God. I’m trying not to breathe like I just ran a marathon, but I’m slipping into the role of call girl, letting it become me, and it’s intoxicating. Just for tonight, my only job is to satisfy this man and I’m placing all my focus in that single basket; every other worry or insecurity rolls off me like lush, morning dew. “Yes, Mr. Caruso.”

  He stands and picks up his whiskey for a lazy sip. But for all his casual male grace, when he moves to my opposite side—partially blocking my view of the other patrons—I can see the sheen of sweat on his upper lip. “Turn in a circle. I want to see your ass in that dress before you spend the rest of the night naked.”

  My panties are soaked, clinging to my skin as I turn slowly, pivoting on the toe of my high heel. As I turn, I can see one of two loners at tables in the back section of the bar, watching the show we’re putting on, and it should make me want to shrug my jacket back on, right? Should make me want to vamoose out the side door. No, though. I’m not shying away from this experience I’ve apparently needed so badly without realizing. This chance to be bought. To be an object of such concentrated lust. And there’s no doubt that Will is lusting as his hand slides over my left bottom cheek and squeezes, grunting in satisfaction, the way he might while buying a sports car—and it makes my knees shake. Knowing he’s in on the act and would start a brawl over someone actually disrespecting me only heightens my enjoyment.

  “Let’s get this upstairs before someone tries to outbid me,” he growls, inspecting my other cheek with a rough, testing palm. “I wouldn’t let that happen, but nothing is going to hold me up from getting inside you.”

  I complete my turn and come face to face with Will once more, but I’m only given a second to appreciate his hooded eyes and concrete jaw, before my jacket is wrapped around me and I’m being escorted from the bar. I’ve been so absorbed by Will that I wasn’t aware exactly how much interest we’ve drawn, but there’s no ignoring it now. Several men are turned in our direction, some of them whispering to each other, all of them looking me over. Like bidding to take me home isn’t that
far outside the realm of reality. Once again, though, my trust for Will just turns it all to background noise. Part of the dream we’re weaving.

  Once in the hallway, Will punches the call button for the elevator, his focus straight ahead, his thumb brushing the small of my back. As soon as the doors roll open, however, and I’m dragged inside to the empty car, his façade cracks.

  Hard.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Will

  The last ten minutes used up so much of my self-control, I’m running on very little as the elevator doors smack shut behind Teresa and me. Very little. She knows I’m close to the edge, too—my jealousy coiled inside me like a snake—and it excites her, those hard nipples teasing me forward as she backs up toward the wall, like prey.

  One step. Two.

  And then I’m on her, one hand curved around her throat, guiding her the remaining distance until I have her pinned loosely against the wall, my other hand shoving up beneath the hem of her indecently short dress. Red. She shows up in fucking red, those stupid shoes putting her ass lap-level for every man in the room. I can’t breathe around the grip of possessiveness shackling my neck…but the jealousy loosens its grip when I take a handful of her pussy and find it hot, drenched beyond belief. She gasps, her eyes going blind, as if the single touch has her on the precipice of an orgasm. It’s the reminder I need that she was mine the whole time we were inside the bar. My Teresa. Who needed her man to rise to the occasion and feed her fantasy.

  “This wet pussy is for me. Because of me. Only.”

  “You know it is,” she rasps. “Oh God…I can’t…did we press the button for our floor?” She licks parched, swollen lips. “I’m actually hurting.”

  Since I did apparently press the button in the midst of my green haze, the elevator car slows to a stop on the top floor. Even with the doors opening, though, I can’t stop myself from massaging her through the soaked panties one more time. Again. Again. Christ, she has no idea how hot she got me in that damn bar. This night is for her, but a dutiful Teresa is the full moon to the hungry werewolf that is my dominance. “Not for long.”