CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Teresa
Just you and me right now, Teresa. No games.
Will has no idea how much I needed to hear those words. They’re like a double shot of absinthe to my system, loosening my muscles and inhibitions, making me feel like I’ve just been made boneless inside a sauna. Now I’m walking out on shaky legs, skin slick and hot…and there’s a man waiting to loosen that one. Final. Knot. The one tight as a bow in my loins. Yes, loins. I’ve never been more aware of that sinful southern region since meeting Will, and I’m throbbing there.
When I give my permission, his eyes flash and then I’m being turned, turned just as I hoped I would be, to face the sink. We’re just Will and Teresa right now. Not boss and call girl. Not a hedge fund manager and the liar luring him back to New York. We only exist inside this garish, overdone bathroom, and I’m letting myself believe that for the next little while.
Will’s fingers are still threaded through the hair at the back of my skull. He holds me there for long seconds, like an intermission to let me know the second half of the play has begun and he’s taking control. Slowly, so slowly, he tilts my head to the left, letting his mouth hover over that sensitive flesh, while his hips dip and press to mine, wedging me hard against the sink.
A whimper falls from my mouth, my hands slapping down on the marble. And that’s when he begins to assault my neck. There’s no leaning into his lips or pulling away when the raking of his teeth and tongue becomes too much. No, I can’t move because my hair is held prisoner in his grip. There’s simply no coming up for air, so I gasp and shift between two immovable objects, his mouth relentless, marauding from the curve of my shoulder to my ear over and over, until I’m sobbing.
“Will…”
His voice is pure cigarettes and sex against my ear. “If we were going to fuck, I’d wait until you said my name just like that, like you can’t believe how wet I’m making your pussy…” His hand disentangles from my hair to drag down my spine, sending my head pitching forward on a moan. “Then I’d lift your skirt to see if I’m satisfied with the damage.”
I arch my back, giving him permission with my eyes in the mirror. He takes it with a growl, gathering my hem in his fists and leaving the material bunched at my waist. Now, when he presses in against my nearly bare backside, there’s no mistaking the oversized bulge. It parts my cheeks and makes itself at home, like a king settling into his throne.
“If I have you bent over the bathroom counter, it’s because you don’t want to wait. Not even for my tongue to give your pussy the same treatment I just gave your neck. So I’d give you exactly what you wanted.” I can barely hear him, my voice is rasping in and out so loud, so I try to hold it in, but it bursts out of me almost immediately. Because I need—need—to hear what he’s going to say next. Will angles his upper half away and I hear the sounds of metal ticking and tinkling together.
His belt.
He reassures me with a kiss to my shoulder that he remembers the boundary I set, but that breezy balm of comfort only lasts a split second, before leather slaps the surface of the sink—whap—and slides, flat side up, in front of me. There isn’t a hint of warning before it pulls taut. So taut, it bites into the lowest section of my belly and hips, which should hurt, right? But no. Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the Angel Gabriel, no. It’s the pressure I didn’t even know I needed. The move jerks my bottom tighter into Will’s lap and my gasp is still hanging in the air when he bends me forward, over the sink—the belt positioned between me and the marble.
My expression is one of such naked, desperate lust, I duck my face to hide it, but the sight of Will’s fists wrapped around the ends of the belt, like reins, drains any self-consciousness from my body. If he has the balls to truss me up like a horse, I can summon the nerve to enjoy it.
Enjoy it?
My breasts have almost completely fallen out of my dress, I’m so winded from the intensity of the man behind me. With his shadowed face, curled upper lip and corded biceps, he’s every movie villain I’ve ever secretly been attracted to. My panties are uncomfortably wet and I can’t do anything about it, except shift around on my toes and suck wind, waiting to see what he’ll do next.
“This is the part where we would both remember the condom,” Will says in that scorched earth voice. I’m so hypnotized by the dark rhythm of his tone, I’m taken off guard once again when he thrusts his hips hard, yanking back on the belt at the same time.
Oh my God. Oh my God. My breasts finally give up the battle and fall out of my dress, the rush of metallic bitterness in my mouth telling me I’ve broken the skin of my lower lip by biting down too hard. None of it matters, though, because Will is talking again and I’m dangling on the end of a string he’s holding.
“Yeah, we’d remember protection at the last second, wouldn’t we, baby? I’d have my cock in one hand, your throat in the other. I’d be pressed right up against that wet hole, ready to finally pump myself into it. To lose myself while you hold on to the counter for dear life.” Another harder drive of his hips shocks a moan from deep inside me. “There would be a few seconds where we’d look at each other in the mirror, trying to decide if stopping to suit up was worth waiting to fuck. Tell me I’m wrong, Teresa.”
I shake my head and it loosens my thoughts, my inhibitions even more. Did I really just say no to that question? Yeah, I did. There’s nothing but total honesty and…exposure happening in this bathroom and I’m all in. I couldn’t lie or be anything but the barest version of myself right now if I tried.
“We’d think of what would happen if we left the rubber off. That moment where I empty inside you and there’s no turning back.” His hands twist in the ends of the belt, his hips tilting and rolling, his mouth falling open on a guttural groan. “Would that moment excite you?”
“Yes,” I whimper, moving my backside in circles. “I can’t help it.”
“Good. I’m inside you bare, then. Right. Fucking. Now.” His open mouth lands on the curve of my neck, giving it that purposeful treatment from before, which I didn’t even realize I was craving like a drug until his teeth abrade my sensitive skin and my clit begins to throb like it’s sore and ticklish at the same time. “I’m not going to last as long without that layer between my cock and your tight little pussy, so my fingers are going to help get you there. And that won’t be very hard, will it? Nope.” He shakes his head, raking me with lust. “Look at your stiff nipples. A strong wind would make you come.” His tongue licks up the side of my neck, those teeth catching my earlobe. “Someone is a very horny girl.”
“Look who’s talking,” I manage, my voice shaking along with my thighs. “You’re just as bad.”
“I’m worse, baby. A million times worse.” Will drops the belt but keeps me flush to his front with strong, desperate hands, sliding them up to cup and squeeze my breasts, back down to clutch my hips. “I’m so damn deep inside you right now,” he rasps into my ear, beginning tight, measured thrusts against my bottom. “I go slow at first, dragging my cock in and out of you, trying to find a way to fuck you without coming. But you make it so hard, don’t you? Your sexy porn star tits are bouncing around and you’re pouting at me in the mirror, begging to get it rough.”
I am. I am. I want nothing more than to be bent over this sink and treated without mercy. I’m not sure where I’m storing that final, remaining ounce of my earlier resolve, but I call on it now, searching for a way to completion without giving in to what my body craves. “Touch me,” I sob, writhing my backside on that thick part of him. “Please, Will.”
Before the words are out of my mouth, his hand wedges in between me and the sink, no-nonsense fingers tucking into my panties. Two fleshy pads trap my clit and gently squeeze, sucking the air out of my lungs, blinding my eyes. My body jerks like I’ve been slapped with medical paddles. Lord oh lord oh lord. I’m…can I even call this an orgasm? I’ve had those. They didn’t make me feel like I was dying and being resurrected at the same time. Or like every nerve in my body was spinning in mad circles, vibrating and colliding in a frenzied dance.
“…Will. Will. Will…”
How many times have I said his name? He’s growling louder into my neck with every recitation, his two incredible fingers now beginning to thrum my clit, teasing my blood back to a fever pitch. And all the while, he rocks into the separation of my bottom, fucking me through his jeans and my thong, up against the sink. “I’m starting to get desperate now. Slamming harder and harder into your little body. Getting pissed when I hit the end. You don’t like not taking all of me, either, so you try to spread wider. Don’t you?”
As if my muscles have decided Will is the master they must obey, my stance inches wider and I arch my back, moaning at the ceiling when his drives turn into grunting, hunger-driven grinds into my bottom. Will is using that forbidden curve to get off, and just when I think nothing about that could be hotter, he dips down and comes back up, that humongous bulge pinning the underside of my wet, feminine flesh to the sink, pumping, pumping against it, those fingers continuing to worry my clit up and down.
“Take a good look in the mirror, Teresa. Look at us. Look what I’m doing to you.” When I don’t move fast enough, he threads powerful fingers into my hair and tilts my head back, forcing me to acknowledge my pink, dewy skin, my slack mouth, my breasts that shake every time his hips punch up and forward, dragging denim over the twisted, cotton thong covering my drenched, sensitive flesh. “You’re giving yourself up to me and I’m taking it—keeping it—like a greedy motherfucker. Do you understand?”
Another orgasm is swelling south of my belly, constricting muscles that are still sore from the first time. What he’s saying is important and I shouldn’t make decisions that involve my brain right now, but Will seems to own that, too, at present. I think I want him to own everything when we’re together like this, bodies straining, hands grasping for purchase. “Yes. Yes, I understand.”
“Good.” His fingers move faster on my clit, so fast, so fast that I scream when the climax strikes, like bowling pins at the end of an alley, my senses scattering in every direction. I try to slump over the sink and squeeze my thighs together to combat the intensity of what’s overtaking me, but Will doesn’t allow it. His fingers in my hair keep me facing the mirror so I can watch the bliss crash down on me. “You’re the most beautiful woman on the planet,” he rasps, staring at me from beneath heavy lids. “Jesus Christ.”
The pain in those two words snaps me out of my post-orgasm stupor and turns me into a scrambling servant. There’s no other way to describe the way I disentangle myself, turn around and drop to my knees, whimpers falling from my mouth as I unfasten his jeans with clumsy fingers. “Y-you can have my mouth.”
“Had it today, baby, and I’ll damn well have it again.” He reaches behind me and grabs a folded towel off the sink, unfurling it and tossing it to the floor. “But I’ve been watching your tits jiggle around longer than my cock can handle it, so I’ve got a taste for those. You going to let me fuck them?”
Being that I’ve never done what he’s asking, it actually takes me a moment for my brain to project the logistics. But as soon as the haze clears, I’m lying down on top of the towel, pushing my dress down farther, leaving the bodice around my waist and my breasts on display for his pleasure. In my haste to get on the floor, I neglected to free Will’s erection entirely from his jeans, so he does it now, in the most erotic display of masculinity I’ve ever witnessed.
There aren’t enough religious figures or saints in the world to invoke here. The girthy root of his manhood is visible in the unzipped V of his fly…and he smirks, as if knowing how the sight of it affects me. But he leaves that teasing peek of flesh right where it is while reaching back to grip the rear of his shirt collar, dragging it off in one, seriously hot, practiced move.
As he kneels, his pecs and abdomen tighten beneath a sheen of sweat, making my nipples pucker even more. He bares his teeth, nostrils flaring at the sight of my body’s reaction. And I don’t have to wait any longer to see what’s inside his jeans. He reaches in and draws out his swollen arousal, pumping it with his fist while walking toward me on his knees.
“I might take you to fancy hotels, baby. Might walk you through those elegant lobbies and demand you be treated like a queen.” He drops forward, bending down to lick a path between my breasts, up and down. Again and again, before lifting his head. “But I will always be the man who fucks you nasty on the floor once we’re upstairs, with your thong twisted around your dripping cunt. We clear?”
Oh hell. I’m screwed, aren’t I? My back arches on a gasp, hands flying to my breasts to push them together. Tempt him. I’m a mess of heat and need, heels sliding on the tile. Can’t stop moving until he’s satisfied as I am. “We’re clear,” I breathe, tossing my head back. “Come closer, please. Have me.”
His hand supports his erection until it’s just above me, then he lets it go, dropping the substantial weight into the slick cradle between my breasts. An animal groan splits the air between us, the volume of it increasing as I push my breasts in around his engorged flesh. He begins to tunnel through the wet passage we’ve created, his sack slapping the underside with every drive.
“Fuck,” he grits out, pumping faster. “Stop looking at it like that.”
My lips are dry, so I lick them, seeing his expression darken. “L-like what?”
“Like you’re just dying for me to slip and land in your mouth.” His head pitches forward, neck and shoulder muscles straining. “No. Can’t stop, even for a suck. I’m going to put a claim on every part of you.”
Claim. There’s a part of my brain that knows such a thing is impossible, but right now, with this gorgeous, compelling man needing relief from me—desperate for it—I can’t think of something I’ve ever wanted more. To be claimed by Will.
Once again, I arch up and squeeze my breasts in around his fat, tunneling inches, watching the head turn purple, hearing his groans grow more and more strangled. “I want you all over me, hot and sticky,” I whisper, giving in to the out-of-body experience. “Get it all over my nipples. My neck. Please, Will?”
He goes from man on the verge to man in the throes almost immediately. His thrusts become more thorough but less skilled, his breath bursting out of him in a staccato beat. “Horny girl,” he barks, neck veins standing out. “Bad, horny girl. You stick your tongue out for a taste, too. Do it now or I’ll pry your jaw apart.”
Oh God. I’ve never opened my mouth so fast. Not even for cheesecake. I’m rewarded with salty spurts of wet liquid landing on my tongue, lips, throat, breasts. Will continues to thrust his hips, all while moaning down at me, his eyes alternately blazing and blanking with lust. That large body shudders and quakes and it’s amazing, watching him drain, feeling it happen. Because of me.
When Will is spent, I think he’s either going to fall down on top of me, clean me off, or ask me if I want Chinese food. Instead, he does something unexpected. He scoops me up and rises to his feet, setting me on the bathroom sink.
And he steps between my dangling legs and kisses me. Not like a man who has just finished titty-fucking a woman on the bathroom floor and wants to gloat. Or remind me who dominated the round. No, it’s a grateful kiss. His fingers comb through my hair, caress my face, gently tug down my chin so his tongue can invade. I’m a hot mess, my dress askew, makeup probably all over my face…not to mention his come is sliding down my chest. Lest we forget. But somehow he makes me a goddess with that kiss. A certified deity that he lives to serve.
“We good, Teresa?”
Too good. While I was pretending there isn’t a single man alive who could get under my skin or make me want to trust again…that’s exactly what Will did. I’ve been denying my feelings, but with that denial bandage ripped clean off, the full scope of them robs me of breath. He’s not even asking about us—if we’re good—he’s asking if I’m still angry about the palatial hotel room he surprised me with. Right? So why am I suddenly contemplating his possible reactions to the truth of why I’m really here? Am I crazy to consider coming clean about my deal with Silas? It’s too soon to trust him, isn’t it? It’s too soon to trust anyone.
Right?
When I don’t answer right away, a worry line appears between Will’s brows. “Something serious happens in my gut when I look at you, baby. I need us to be good. If we’re not, I’ll get us there.”
My own gut does a somersault. Along with one, all-powerful, severely reckless organ in my chest. “Will…” I can’t. I can’t risk him turning on me and putting my brother in jeopardy. “We’re good. So good, actually.” I give him a saucy smile. He doesn’t return it, the wheels behind his eyes only turning faster. “But I really do need to make that phone call.”
He holds my stare for a beat. “Yeah. I need to make a phone call, too.” The way he says it sends my heart up into my throat, but I focus on keeping my expression neutral. Before I’m ready to lose his warmth, he drops his hands from my face and turns toward the door. Facing the bedroom, he pauses with a forearm propped on the frame. “You can tell me anything, you know. I’ve been told a lot of shitty things lately. I can handle it.”
What shitty things? Southpaw’s diagnosis? Or is he talking about the missing puzzle piece, also known as what exactly happened between him and Silas?
I want to slide off the sink and throw my arms around Will, to kiss him and beg him to confide in me. But the lies hanging over my head render me immobile. I don’t deserve his secrets. Even though a voice is shouting coward in the back of my head, I stay quiet, holding my breath until he finally leaves the room, taking all the air with him.
And sitting quietly in the dark, I can’t help but wonder who he’s calling across the hallway. Is the jig going to be up any second now?
Heart pounding, I take out my cell to check the time, then call Nicky.