Chapter 7
Kate
Our moans echoed off the white tile walls and filled the room. I felt him growl into my kiss. It was like we were fueled and lost in nature as we pulled and tugged at one another’s clothes like primitive sex-crazed Neanderthals.
His hands were tight around my waist as he slammed me into the sink. I squealed as he lifted me up to sit on it. I couldn’t believe how crazy this was. It was like we were both out for one thing, and one thing only.
I shuddered as the tips of his fingers ran over my neck. Then I growled like a lioness when those same fingers entangled in my hair. He pulled. He tugged. All I could do was gasp and moan in response. The heat was rising — and it was rising fast — up into the core of my belly.
I couldn’t believe it.
I couldn’t believe what I was doing, and I couldn’t believe what he was doing to me.
And more than anything, I couldn’t believe where it was all happening…
We were standing smack dab in the middle of the Starbuck’s restroom.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I breathed, pulling away from the deep kiss he had entangled me in. The whole thing was almost amusing. Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be one of those girls.
“I’ve never done anything like this before, either.” His words were shaky, and he spoke almost breathlessly. “Are you sure this is okay?”
My head snapped up to look at him. What? He was the one asking if we should be doing what we were doing? Since when had I been more okay with public sex than a man? And not just any man, but a man clearly as experienced as this one.
“I’m not sure.” But damn it all it felt good. “But I’m going to, anyways.”
My body screamed to be closer to him. I needed him pressed even tighter against me. The feel of his hard body rubbing against mine was something that I craved, something that I needed.
I pulled at his belt and yanked him closer before wrapping my legs around him.
“Fuck, Kate,” he rasped.
The heat of our bodies meshing together was so intoxicating that I felt like I was drunk.
With his chest heaving, he stared at me. It was a stare so intense, and so lustful that I felt a tingle roll up my spine and cause me to shudder. Then, just as quickly as that chilling tingle came, I felt myself fill back up with warmth again as the heat from his eyes danced over my skin.
Were things really about to go further?
In the coffee shop’s bathroom, no less?
His mouth fell open, and his eyes were black and narrowed in on me. His breath was heavy and ragged. He leaned forward and pressed up against me. His hardness was heavy against my thigh—he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.
It was like pure instinct ran through me again, as I found my body moving by itself. I found myself grinding into him as he leaned further into me. And all of a sudden, I could feel that any walls that I still might have had up were surely falling down around me.
I was losing the battle, and I was losing it quick.
I felt confident all of a sudden. More confident than I had ever felt before.
The lust inside me had started off as a small flame in the pit of my stomach, but it had wound up exploding, erupting like a fucking volcano — right there as I sat on top of that sink with the most gorgeous man that I had ever seen. Our thighs brushing together, our lips pressed and wet and kissing.
My heart pounded in my ears, and my body squirmed as I felt my arousal build and pool between my thighs. I was beyond crazed. I reached out and latched onto his face once again and pulled him into an assaulting kiss.
He groaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping in like heated silk to massage my own.
I couldn't help but wonder if someone was going to catch us. It kept going through my mind, over and over, that someone was sure to have seen us come in together, and we weren't exactly being quiet either. I was sure that someone had to have at least heard something.
It was exciting — but it was nerve-racking at the same time. Will someone find us, or won’t they?
I smiled as I leaned into the kiss. I guessed it was the risk that made me feel so damn alive. The fact that someone could come in at any second was hot, I had to admit. And every time I thought about it, I felt even more aroused.
My hand grasped at his thick blond hair and pulled on it as my tongue explored him even deeper.
With gasping breaths, we pulled away. He looked down, right at my heaving breasts. It was all just so heated, all so intense, and all I wanted in the entire world was to get my damn coat off. It felt like the temperature had risen fifteen degrees in just the last few seconds. With a hurried motion, I yanked my coat off of my arms and let it fall behind me against the sink’s mirror.
So much better.
As soon as it was off, though, I felt him maul me once again. My back hit the mirror, and I felt his hand squeeze my face roughly as he nipped and bit at my lips.
There was no sweetness at first — no tenderness— and for some strange reason, I was fine with that. There were no caresses, no gentle pecks against my forehead, and somehow, I didn’t even miss those things. There was just this strange, yet completely pure, carnal desire between the two of us.
His hands smoothed themselves down my sides and then around to my back. I shuddered at his touch and purred into his mouth as I felt his hands continue over my body. His hands weren’t gentle, but they weren’t rough, either. They were firm, massaging even. And they were the perfect contrast to the rough and desperate kiss, the raw nips of his teeth grazing my lips.
His hands continued to explore me until they found my clothed breasts. I gasped as he brushed them ever so slightly and moved his mouth to my neck. My nipple hardened at the smooth sensation against it, and he bit my neck, suckling, giving me the best of both worlds.
His hands moved down to my belly and under the hem of my shirt. It tickled, but in a good way. I giggled as I felt his smooth skin brush my own. His mouth moved back to my lips and greedily sucked and nipped at my mouth. I released a whimper that had crawled up my throat as he pressed himself even harder against me and the sink.
I still couldn’t believe what we were doing.
It was all so…wicked — but damn, it was delightfully wicked.
I tightened my grasp around the back of his neck and arched into him and mewled as he tore his mouth away from mine again.
My lust transformed to sheer panic when a noise came from just outside the door. Someone was obviously hanging around out there. Ian pulled away and laughed, and I could only do the same. We were about to be not only caught but super-caught. There was no hiding what we’d been doing.
His lips were smeared with lipstick, and obviously swollen, and mine probably were, too. Not to mention his hair was a mess, and again, mine was probably just as messy.
Plus, the fact that a man and a woman were in the restroom together. That didn’t exactly take a rocket scientist to figure out.
But even though it was embarrassing, it was also sort of invigorating.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me down off the sink.
“Shit!” I giggled, as we fell together against the door. If someone hadn’t had their suspicions before, they certainly would now, I thought with a sly smile. The bang of two bodies colliding with the door could have alerted a deaf person to the fact that people were tussling inside.
“You’re the dangerous type,” he said with a smirk. “Going to get me into all sorts of trouble.”
His hands were all over my body, grabbing my waist, clutching my hips, massaging my back, feeling my breasts, tearing at my clothes, fondling every inch of me.
“You’re the one getting me into trouble,” I whispered. I couldn’t help but smile and bite my lip as he slid one of his hands down the waistband of my pants, which had somehow come undone, and gripped my ass. All the while the other hand continued massaging soothing circles around the small of my back as he held me tightly.
I pressed my hands against his chest, feeling the large muscles beneath his shirt. I moaned into his mouth, enjoying every square inch of his body— especially when my hands reached his large, broad shoulders.
He deepened the kiss. I felt my knees grow weak, and I clutched onto his shoulders to steady myself. His hands, still inside my pants, traveled to the underside of my bare ass just before he teased the flesh there. I gasped loudly and dug my fingernails into his shoulders.
He slammed me against the door again, even harder and more desperate than before. His lips fell to my neck, and he sucked. Hard.
Pain and pleasure vibrated through my body, and I instantly tugged at his shirt. I wanted it off. I yanked his shirt out of his pants where it was still tucked in. And then, with a strength I didn’t realize I had, I tore it open. Buttons flew to the floor, and I slung the white oxford over his shoulders until his muscles were free.
Damn. Those muscles were fucking gorgeous.
“Holy shit,” I gasped, betraying myself. Now he knew how sexy he really was…or at least, how sexy he was to me.
I was sure he already knew exactly how sexy he was.
I ran my hands over his bare chest, and his muscles flexed beneath my touch. I wondered if he had done it on purpose.
I pressed my lips to his chest, just beside his nipple and grinned against his skin when I felt the tip harden at the corner of my mouth. He sucked in a ragged breath before grabbing my face and pulling my lips back to his.
I felt his hand at the hem of my own shirt. “Your turn,” he breathed, pulling away from the kiss just slightly. Before I could even protest, he yanked the fabric up and off my body.
“Holy fuck,” he gasped, one-upping my sentiment from before. I felt his eyes on me. I tensed, feeling exposed, but he touched my shoulder gently. “You are so sexy.”
I had never been insecure. In all actuality, I would have probably called myself the opposite. But there was a vulnerability about being naked in front of a man — especially a man who looked as good as Ian.
Hearing his admiration was enough to make me melt, and certainly enough to make every ounce of insecurity that I might have had disappear. His hands reached out and pulled me even closer to him, my flesh hit his and our mouths attacked one another.
He kneeled down and pressed kisses up my bare stomach. The gentle brush of his lips caused a tingle to roll up my spine. He slowly stood, pressing kisses up my body. His lips found every sensitive part on his way; from my navel; to the ticklish area just below my ribs; my breasts and then my neck once again.
I groaned out, “God!”
He reclaimed my mouth, and I tugged at his pants. My hands fingered at the button until it snapped open.
“Damn, you’re eager.” His breath was hot on my neck as he teased me with his words.
But how could I not be? We had been doing the coffee shop dance for what seemed like ages. Every day there was more and more attraction. Every day there was more arousal building. Every day there was him, looking at me with his piercing brown eyes. Every day I had wanted him. Of course, I was eager.
He nibbled at my shoulder.
I was so happy to actually finally be able to touch him. I only wished we had been on a proper date first.
I didn’t want to seem like a slut. But I wanted this. Honestly, at that moment, I ventured to even question if I might have even needed this.
I pressed my palms beneath his belly button and slid them just beneath the waistband of his pants. I wanted to tease him just as he had teased me. And it worked too, because as soon as my fingers inched their way just barely inside of his pants, he sucked in a deep, quick breath.
“Fuck, you can touch me all you want.” His voice was sexy, deep and full of seductiveness.
I smiled, feeling like a little devil as I slid my hand even further down his pants.
He hissed and grabbed me, halting me completely. I looked up, confused. My eyes held his for a minute. Why was he stopping me? Did he not just say that I could have touched him as much as I wanted?
He smiled, reassuringly as his fingers wrapped around my own. He lifted my hand to my shoulder. “Stay there.”
I opened my mouth to protest; to ask why in the blue hell I wanted to ‘stay there’ when my prize was much further south. But before I could get it out, his mouth captured hold of my nipples through the thin fabric of my bra.
It felt absolutely incredible.
I squealed out in pleasure, and immediately disobeyed his request to “stay.” But instead of going into his pants like I’d wanted, my hands instinctively went up and entangled in his hair.
I arched into him, pressing more of my hardened nub into his hot, silky mouth. He reached behind me and unfastened my bra. I felt his heated mouth pull away from me, and I missed it almost instantly. The bra fell to the floor.
"Ah!" I cried out as soon as his breath hit my now-bare breasts and his mouth entrapped and flicked at me once again. My hips surged and bucked against him as my body writhed out of control.
I watched and cooed as he trailed kisses all over me and I felt him make a move for my jeans. And as soon as he did, as soon as I felt his hardness press against my bare flesh, the air caught in my chest, and my lungs basically gave out. Was this really going to happen? Was I really about to go through with this? My pulse quickened at the possibility. We were in a disgusting bathroom — well, it was pretty clean comparatively speaking. But it was still a bathroom!
As his tongue flicked against my nipples, I honestly didn’t give a damn where we were. All that I really cared about was the fact that my heart was beating rapidly against my chest, and I felt a heat growing in my center.
His gaze told me that he felt the same. I felt his hand move to the button of my jeans just before he hesitated to look at me.
I blinked, not knowing why he’d stopped.
Just as I opened my mouth to ask, he began squealing out strange elevator music. Loud. Annoying. Elevator. Music.
He began to vibrate against me, the brunt of it falling against my head. Which was strange, because he wasn’t touching my head.
And then, my eyes fluttered open, and I found myself in my bed, with the covers pulled tightly over me.
I had been fucking dreaming!
The elevator music was coming from just beside my face. It was my phone, ringing.
“Hello?” I asked, my voice deep with grogginess.
The voice on the other end was familiar — too familiar for my own comfort, actually.
“Hello, Kathryn?” she said. “This is Manchester Prep. Claire’s ill.”
I closed my eyes and nodded sadly. “Thank you for letting me know.”
It was the principal of my little sister’s school. “She really would like for you to come and get her, and I’m going to recommend it, just this one time.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll be right there.”
“I should tell you,” the principal continued, “that it isn’t so much an illness. It’s more that her anxiety and depression are getting the best of her. That’s the main reason I’m recommending that you pick her up.”
I sighed. Yep. Usually, the calls were about that, about Claire’s several mental health issues. Occasionally the school called about her learning disabilities — but hell, a lot of the times it was about both.
“I tried to contact your father first, but he didn’t have time to schedule a meeting with me. He isn’t able to come and get her — but I really do recommend her going home today and maybe getting in to see her therapist as soon as she can…”
My dad. I growled inwardly. He was such an asshole sometimes. Isn’t able to come and get her—more like, he didn’t feel like it. He didn’t believe that Claire had any sort of mental disorders — and he definitely didn’t believe that she had any learning disabilities. He thought she just needed to try harder to be normal, like if she just worked hard enough, she could be happy all the time and have an easy time learning just like everyone else.
I remembered when I was a teenager, and Claire was just a kid. She’d been failing her English class because the teacher kept asking for persuasive essays. Claire was always the kind of person who just knew when she was right, and she basically seemed to think, fuck everyone else for their shitty opinions. But that sort of argument wasn’t going to fly in a persuasive essay.
One day, Dad had come home from what he’d called “another waste-of-my-time parent-teacher conference,” pissed off. He’d stormed into Claire’s room, where I was helping her with her math, and he’d dragged me out, his grip rough on my arm. Then he’d gone back in there and shouted at her. Shouted at her, and shamed her, like his gruff treatment would make all the difference.
When Claire had hidden in the bathroom later, he wouldn’t let me go in after her. “Use the other goddamn bathroom,” he’d barked.
I’d been able to hear Claire sobbing, and finally, after Dad had gone to bed, I jimmied the bathroom lock and went in to her. She was covered in tiny cuts she’d made with the sharp edge of the nail clippers.
Dad thought she was just “begging for attention.”
He thought she “lacked motivation.”
How could someone as brilliant and savvy as my dad be such an incredible dumbass?
He always had been, and I kept hoping he would change. In the meantime, I had to step up and make sure Claire got the help she needed.
“I’ll come and get her,” I said into the phone. “Thanks for calling me.”
“Certainly,” the woman said. “This can’t become a habit, though.” Her voice was sweet, but I understood what she was saying.
At least this school had people who cared. But hell, it hadn’t always been so easy. After the last school Claire got kicked out of, I had decided that we’d all been through enough. Because as hard as it was on the family—especially my dad—every time she was expelled, it was even harder on Claire.
I did my research and, eventually, discovered that Manchester Prep was the best match for her needs. I read review after review, spoke with parent after parent. The school came highly recommended. And after meeting with some of the faculty, I was impressed beyond belief. I honestly couldn’t believe how excellently trained their entire staff was — not just the teachers — in dealing with teenagers who had issues similar to Claire’s. I’d lobbied hard to get her there.
So far there hadn’t been any issues with the school. Sure, Claire still had her problems — but Manchester Prep wasn’t one of them.
I could only hope such a wonderful streak would continue. The school seemed like a good match, and it seemed like it was doing her some good. And maybe — just freaking maybe — Claire would thrive and show our dad that her mental health issues and learning disabilities weren’t all just make-believe.
I rolled out of bed, still thinking about the amazing encounter I had had with Ian. My legs trembled just a little, more from the shock of the phone, but I’d like to believe my dream was all that real. I threw on some clothes so I could go get Claire.
I struggled to put my coat on as I ran outside. I wasn’t sure why I was in such a hurry. It wasn’t like Claire was dying or anything. But there was something about the fact that she didn’t feel well and wanted me to come get her that made my sisterly instincts kick into overdrive. I wanted to come to her rescue; I always wanted to.
And that crazy dream I’d had, about having sex with Ian in the Starbucks bathroom? I had to put it in a whole other part of my brain and lock it up tight. Because that was all it had been—a dream.
My feet worked quickly as I made my way toward the subway steps, and I was happy for the fact that I had long legs. Because when I checked the time on my phone, I realized it had only been a couple of minutes since wrapping up the conversation with Claire’s principal. I was making great time.
As soon as I approached the subway’s steps, though, I was startled. In my peripheral vision, I could have sworn that I caught a glimpse of the tall and gorgeous man that had just been invading my dreams.
I gawked at him for a minute. He really did look a lot like Ian. But I knew better. I was getting into that ridiculous and dreaded infatuation stage — and sadly for me, that meant thinking about the guy so much that I literally saw him everywhere.
I groaned. I really did hate that stage.
I always felt like I was going crazy.
I wished I could go to Starbucks, though. And hell, if I was going to anyone other than my sister, I might have considered it. But Claire came first. She always did.
Maybe tomorrow, I thought with a slight grin as I began descending the stairs. Maybe tomorrow I could go to Starbucks and see him again. I knew he’d be there. He apparently always was.
But then as quickly as the thought came, I had to kick it square in the ass and knock it away. I sighed. Tomorrow I had a coffee date with my dad’s secretary, Melinda. I’d already postponed it a couple of times, and I couldn’t do that to her again. This was our tradition. We always saw each other when I could spare a little time. Besides, she’d said she wanted to congratulate me on my new job.
I wanted to see Ian just as much, though.
So much that I couldn’t help but sulk a little as I made my way toward the subway.
Dammit, Melinda.
Why do I love you so much?
I made my way down the steps and under the overpass, to the subway rails below. I hated the subway. It was the grossest place to be in NYC, and NYC was already pretty gross. But it was a mode of transportation, and the train running close to Claire’s school would be arriving any second. I didn’t want to waste time taking a cab.
I wanted to just get there. Not just because I was worried, but because it was too damned cold to be out for too long. I just wanted to go home, curl up on the couch and watch some TV.
Part of me wondered if she was really sick, or if she was just pretending to get out of school. She didn’t like to deal with things head on. Hell, she’d just gotten to school, and I knew for a fact she would have kicked and screamed if she was sick before she left.
I couldn’t help but wonder about it, all the way to my train stop, which was just a block away from her school.
As soon as I climbed the steps, I felt like I’d been punched. The cold hit me like a ton of bricks, and I felt breathless. The wind clawed at my cheeks and caused my teeth to chatter as I jogged the rest of the way up the stairs.
I was trying to ignore the cold the best way that I could, as I walked the extra little bit to the school. But with my face growing numb, my head pounding, and my breath growing ragged, it was a little hard to do.
I felt like I was climbing Everest. My lungs were faltering. And it made me wonder just how out of shape I was if I couldn’t even walk in New York winters. Those thoughts quickly left me, though, as I found myself climbing the steps to Claire’s school and pushing the door open.
The warmth enveloped me like a toasty blanket I’d just pulled out of the dryer, and I sighed with nothing but contentment before shifting my gaze to my right, where the principal’s office was located.
I could see in through the large window that scaled the wall. For security, I was assuming, so they could see everyone that entered the school. I liked that.
Claire must have seen me as I walked through the door, even before I turned my gaze to the office, because before I knew it, she was walking out of the office, toward me.
She looked wrecked.
Her rust-colored hair was pulled up in a bun, and her eyes were red, and face pale — paler than usual, even. Her head slumped down as she walked toward me. “Can we go?” she whispered faintly as she reached me.
I nodded, feeling my heart flutter sadly in my chest. I hated seeing her any less than happy. She leaned against my shoulder and as soon as she did, I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her close.
She really did look sick. I almost felt bad for wondering if she was faking it the whole way there. Almost.
She’d played me way too many times. And hell, for all I knew, she could still be playing me.
She needed to go to the therapist, though. That much was certain. Even if she was sick today, that didn’t make up for all the other times lately. She was having way too many sick days, and days where she clearly just didn’t feel “up to going to school,” and that wasn’t jiving with me.
I’d worked too damn hard to get her in a school as understanding as this one.
With my free arm, I reached out and pushed open the door, with an intensified strength. It was almost like I was in sheer Mother Bear mode. I wanted to get her home, and I wanted to get her home now.
Sick or not sick, she was breaking my heart.
The door hit the side of the building with a crash as I swung it open, and I couldn’t help but cringe at the sound.
“Let’s go home,” I said, maneuvering us away from the door that swung back at us.
My hand trailed to the small of her back as I led her toward the street and hailed a cab.
I needed to get her into bed.