26

Marin kept her hand linked with Donovan’s for long, quiet minutes—both of them lost in their own thoughts. She stared out the open window, hair whipping in the humid breeze. The scenery had shifted from civilization to the eerie beauty of the bayous—towering shadows of cypress with low-hanging moss that seemed to grow out of the water, the occasional crane perched on the side of the road, and the dark smell of wet earth drifting in on the air. Another world, really.

It seemed fitting. Since setting foot on the grounds at The Grove, her world had morphed, too. Her feet weren’t steady under her yet. Like running on that slippery bayou silt at full speed, she could tumble at any moment. Fall. Get dragged under.

Donovan could drag her under.

They were only playing a game tonight, acting out a fantasy, but her mind was having trouble keeping the lines straight between that and reality. She needed to remember that this was a script, that they were in roles. It felt intense because it was set up to be that way. But the words he’d said, the ones she’d sensed he hadn’t meant to let slip out, wound through her head like a drug.

You wake me up.

Four simple words. But they’d crashed into her like a semi-truck, bending and twisting everything inside her.

Why did he have to say things like that? Why do that when he knew this setup had an expiration date? Why try to make her feel something she couldn’t risk feeling? Like she was special to him in some way.

How idiotic a thought was that? Donovan was a good guy. She knew he was. But he was also a guy who’d outright told her he was skilled at getting women into his bed and then leaving it. Maybe that’s why McCray had been so pissed. He’d made her feel special, too. McCray had thought she was different, that she’d be the one he couldn’t walk away from.

But Donovan would walk. That’s what he did. That’s what he was good at.

Marin needed to keep that at the forefront of her mind. She could give herself over to this affair but not like that. She couldn’t plant false hope and let it grow into something that would only die from lack of light when the sun set on this relationship.

“What time is your brother supposed to be home tonight?” Donovan asked, glancing her way.

“He should get in around four.”

“Okay.” He looked back to the road.

“Why?”

His lips quirked like an afterthought. “Just making my devious plans and I like to know the schedule.”

She sniffed. “Is that going to be enough time for all your depravity? I could text him and tell him that he shouldn’t expect me until morning.” She winced slightly when she realized how presumptuous that sounded. “I mean, not that you’d want me to— Never mind.”

His jaw tightened along with his grip on her hand. “I’d love for you to stay the night.”

The words sounded genuine, but it cost him something to make the offer. She could tell by the lines that appeared around his mouth, almost like he’d wanted to keep the words in. “You sure? You don’t have to feel obligated or whatever.”

He looked over at her. When she sent him a no-big-deal shrug, his expression softened around the edges. “Obligated to do unspeakable things to you all night and then sleep in on a Sunday morning with a beautiful, naked you next to me? Yes, sounds horrid. I can’t believe you’d suggest such agony.”

She looked down, her lips curving on their own volition. “Yeah, sounds awful.”

“Text him. We’re almost there. You won’t have time for your phone after that.”

The small warning zipped through her, lighting up things she’d barely dimmed with the relief of her earlier orgasm. She reluctantly slipped her hand from his and fished her phone out of her bag. But when she pulled up the messaging screen, reality wedged its way in.

She’d made the offer because she wanted to spend the night with Donovan, but she hadn’t thought through the fact that it would mean telling Nate outright that she was staying overnight with a guy—after only two weeks here. She considered lying. That would be easiest—too tired to drive home, getting a room, whatever. But she’d built her relationship with Nate on being straightforward and honest. She couldn’t bring herself to fib.

She sighed and typed out a message.

Marin: Not going to be home til morning. Text me when u get in to let me know ur safe and remember to lock up.

The message went through, and she had a pang of anxiety. It was her brother, but in a lot of ways she felt like she was texting her kid, Hey there, son, Mom’s about to get laid!

The response took a while to come through since he was probably busy working, but after a few minutes, her phone dinged.

Nate: Srsly? Just friends. Yeah. OK.

Marin grimaced. She could hear Nathan’s irritated, judgy tone even through words on a screen. But she had her own surge of irritation to match it. Really? He was going to be angry with her over a night out? How long had she put her own life aside to be the responsible one, to be the grown-up? She never resented Nate or regretted the choice she’d made to raise him, but hadn’t she earned a little adventure? She would not let herself feel guilty about this. Would. Not.

Marin: It’s not Lane. Old friend. Long story.

The little dots indicating a response being typed seemed to shine on the screen forever. But when the message came up, it was short. Like he’d deleted a whole lot more.

Nate: Whatever. See u tomorrow.

Marin exhaled loudly and didn’t bother typing a response. She had no doubt she’d get an earful tomorrow—or more likely, the silent treatment. She tossed her phone back in her purse.

Donovan sent a lifted eyebrow her way. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine. Nate’s just in a shit mood. This whole move has been a big transition, and he’s taking it out on me. He’ll be all right.”

“You want to call him?”

She shook her head. “We won’t get anywhere. It’s best to just let him cool off. I’ll talk to him about it when I get home tomorrow. Right now I’ll let him think what he wants.”

Donovan sniffed. “Which is?”

“That I’m some sex-crazed woman who’s jumping in bed with a stranger.”

“Hey, I’m not a stranger,” he said, as he took the back way into The Grove. “The sex-crazed part is dead-on though.”

She laughed. “I will not deny this.”

He reached out and cupped her neck. “You should put your head in my lap.”

The flip in subject threw her. “What?”

“If you want to be safe, make sure no one sees us.”

“Oh.” She shook her head, trying to clear her head of other thoughts. “Right.”

He guided her down to his thigh, his fingers stroking her hair as he drove the winding road that led to his place. She felt a little ridiculous at the sneaking around, but soon his touch was too distracting to let her think of much else.

“When we get to the house, you’re all mine, Rush. Your safe word applies always, but you need to let me know now if you have any qualms about this. We can take things down a notch if you’re not ready to continue what we started at the club. It’s your call.”

His fingertips were gentle against her scalp, but the words were like droplets of ice water against her skin, making everything hyperaware again. What did she want? What was she ready for?

She closed her eyes, giving the question honest consideration. She was a novice at this. She had no idea what she was doing. Taking the safe route would be smart. They could take things nice and easy, cover the basics. Sex with Donovan was going to be fantastic no matter what. But a little pang of disappointment went through her at the thought of going that way. She wasn’t experienced. But some part of her knew instinctually that her wires weren’t straight and neat. They were crossed, tangled. That was one of the reasons things had gotten so electric with Donovan so quickly in college. All those vague cravings and fleeting fantasies had been given names when she’d listened to Donovan’s recordings.

So all she could muster up at the thought of what might happen if she gave him the green light tonight was anticipation. She’d gotten the painful part out of the way with her virginity, so she wasn’t worried about that. And Donovan had told her he liked things rough, but she didn’t get the sense he was a sadist who’d bust out whips or knives or anything. Even if he was, he’d listen to her safe word. “I’m ready for this.”

His fingers paused for a second, and his thigh tensed beneath her cheek. She worried then that he’d take it back, that he’d decide for her that they’d go easy tonight. But after a moment, she felt him relax. “Me, too, Rush. Me, too.”

The sound of a garage door opening and shutting was the last moment before Donovan slipped right back into the place he’d been in the darkened hallway of the club. He palmed the side of her head and lifted her from her spot on his lap. His blue eyes were dark when they landed on her. “Stay put until I get you.”

That left her with a shiver as he got out of the car and walked around to her side to open the door. His steps seemed interminable, her heartbeat hopping at the sound of his shoes on the concrete floor. By the time he helped her out of the car, her lungs felt like they weren’t capable of expanding. He was so close. So intent. He cupped her chin, his gaze coasting over her face and then sliding lower, taking his time and not hiding his open perusal. Her nipples strained against her bra as his attention moved over them. “You ready to play a game, Marin?”

His tone was smooth, dangerously enticing, like a stranger holding the most delicious candy out to her. She could almost taste the sweetness on her tongue. She concentrated, forced her voice to work. “Yes.”

His lips ticked up at the corner ever so slightly, something new there in his eyes, a sinister eroticism that drew her in like a winding trail of breadcrumbs. This was the Donovan who’d made the tapes, the private side beneath all those other layers. “You have five minutes. You’re going to go in the house and find a good hiding place. You want it to be really good because for each minute it takes me to find you, that’s how many times you get to come tonight.”

All remaining air left her. Whoosh. Gone.

“But also for every minute I can’t find you, I’m going to add another item from your list to cover tonight. Items of my choosing.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “And there are some doozies on there.”

Oh, God. The list ran through her mind on fast-forward. Some were things she’d love to try, others she was half-terrified. And she had a feeling he wasn’t going to choose the simple ones.

“So you’ll have to decide if more pleasure is worth the risk of more boundaries pushed. And the longer it takes me to find you, the more frustrated I’m going to get. I’m not very nice when I’m frustrated, Rush.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers, sending hot chills radiating straight downward. “Understand the rules?”

Her tongue swiped over her lip, catching the taste of his kiss lingering there. “Yes.”

“Good.” He released her and stepped around her to unlock the door to the house and deactivate the alarm. When he turned back to her, his smile was predatory. “Better get going, gorgeous. Your time starts now.”

It took her a second for the words to make it through her lusty haze, but when they finally registered, she kicked off her heels and launched herself into the house. Part of her felt ridiculous for joining in some adult version of hide-and-seek, but that small part was drowned out by the sheer thrill of it. How often in her life did she get to have pure, unadulterated fun? To forget that you were supposed to be serious and responsible and practical? She was supposed to be a grown-up, for God’s sake. But this, running from Donovan turned all kind of dials for her. Fun ones. Sexy ones. Competitive ones. The edge of anxiety weaving through all of that only added to it. Her senses were heightened already, and they hadn’t even made it to the naked stuff yet.

So she didn’t care what the stakes were at this point. She was determined to find a good place. She didn’t play games to lose. Though, she had a feeling neither of them were going to lose tonight.

She hurried through the house, considering alcoves and behind couches and beneath curtains, but every place seemed too obvious. She tried the door to his bedroom but found it locked. That gave her pause, but she didn’t have time to waste. She hustled barefoot into the guest bedroom. She peered under the bed but she wasn’t skinny enough to wiggle under there.

“Time’s ticking away, Rush.” The voice came from the direction of the garage. He hadn’t come in yet, but it wouldn’t be long.

She yanked open the louvered doors of the guest closet. Donovan’s winter wear hung from the rack and the floor had a few pairs of shoes. When her eyes alighted on a pair of black cowboy boots, she paused. Firstly, because Donovan West had cowboy boots. She’d never seen him in such a thing and wanted to rectify that immediately. But secondly, it gave her an idea. She peered over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t already heading down the hallway and then grabbed a black peacoat from the hanger and slipped it on. It was far too big and too long, but that’s what she needed. She quickly slipped her feet inside the cowboy boots, happy to see the shoes and coat completely hid her bare legs. She snagged a knit cap from a shelf and pulled it over her head. Then she stepped into the far corner of the closet, shut the doors and turned her back to them.

The bad news was that she wouldn’t be able to watch and see if the light changed between the slats on the louvered door. But the good news was that if he opened it, she’d have an outside shot that he wouldn’t see her unless he looked closely. There were enough jackets between her and where he’d be and she had everything covered. She closed her eyes, pressed her forehead against the wall of the closet, and strained her ears to listen.

A minute or so later, she heard Donovan call out. “Time’s up. Clock’s ticking for a new reason now.”

She pressed her lips together, trying to calm her breathing. She didn’t want to give herself away. But when she heard his shoes hit the hardwoods, her teeth bit into her lip. He walked slow but with purpose. She could hear doors being opened, things being moved around. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, and the heat from her body clung to her inside the heavy coat, making everything even warmer.

She swallowed past the constriction in her throat. It was like being in a horror movie, straining to hear any movements, any sign that you were about to be caught. Logically, she knew she was in no danger, but her body interpreted things otherwise. Fight-or-flight was welling up in her and twining with the arousal that had been humming there already, heightening everything. Heart pounding, skin prickling.

“You’ve earned yourself one orgasm, Rush,” Donovan called out from down the hall somewhere. “That’s good news. I’d hate for you to go all night without one. The teasing would’ve been fun though.”

She nearly groaned but held it in at the last second. The coat smelled like him. Or what the winter version of Donovan probably smelled like—fresh laundry and charred hickory. Like he’d sat by a fire wearing this coat.

The footsteps moved closer. Step. Step. Step. A door nearby opened. Probably his office. His footfalls moved farther away as he explored the room. But then when he called out that she’d earned number two and number three, his voice sounded much, much closer. Oh shit. This room had to be next.

She tucked her hands in the pockets of the coat, her fists curling, and tried to breathe noiselessly. “Last possible room. You’re running out of hiding spots, Rush. Are you somewhere imagining what I’m going to do to you when I find you? I’m already hard just thinking about it. Maybe I should just take a break, lie on this bed, and give myself a little respite, a little relief.”

The voice was far too close, the words far too tempting. Oh, fuck. He wouldn’t, would he? She wanted to turn and look, to bust out of the closet and see if he was teasing or serious. But she forced herself to stay stock-still. She would not break. She would not let him win that easily. She squeezed her eyes tighter.

But then she heard the faint squeak of bedsprings and the clink of a belt being unbuckled. Oh, Jesus Christ. He so wasn’t playing fair. She’d outright told him how much she wanted to see him touch himself. Now he was going to taunt her with a view she couldn’t have unless she gave herself away? Dirty fighting. That’s what he was doing.

God, she loved it. Loved that he wasn’t going to be a gentleman about this.

When she heard him expel a breath, she broke. She couldn’t do it. She had to turn around. With silent feet, she shifted her body, holding herself rigidly so she wouldn’t knock any of the metal hangers and then leaned around the edge of the coats. The slats in the closet door wouldn’t give her an easy view, but they’d give her something. And when her eyes adjusted to the faint light outside the closet, it gave her more than that. Donovan was stretched out on the bed. He’d taken off his suit coat but the dress shirt was still on, his tie loose and the fly of his slacks open. And his hand, that beautiful hand with the long fingers and strong grip, was wrapped around his cock.

Everything inside her body clenched like a fist. Shameless didn’t even begin to describe it. He was taking his time, enjoying long, slow glides over that thick, hard flesh. The tip was glossy in the moonlight that shone through the window, and he casually rubbed a thumb over the top, spreading the fluid around the head.

Guh. That was the sound she made. But she swallowed it down before it could slip out.

“This feels good, baby. So fucking good. I’ve done this quite a lot lately, thinking about you.”

He squeezed and rubbed, squeezed and rubbed. The slick sound alone was going to do her in. The spot between her thighs had become a throbbing, slippery disaster. Freshly shaven and without any panties to contain things, she had gotten embarrassingly wet. At each little movement, her flesh slid against itself with a lewd, sensual glide. She was tempted to find a way to clean things up, make it neater. Hide the fact that she was this affected. But she was more tempted to just tuck her hand beneath her dress and get herself off.

Instead, she did nothing, too afraid to miss a second of the tableau in front of her. Donovan stroked fingers over his sac, teasing himself, teasing her. “This is very good. But I shouldn’t have to do this for myself, Marin. It’s not very nice of you to hide from me. You’re going to have to pay for that. I think it’s time you did.”

Her heart jumped into her throat as he casually tucked himself back into his boxers and sat up. His pants were still undone, his erection an intimidating outline against the fabric, but the look in his eye was pure promise. She quickly turned, putting her back to the door, knowing he was going to open it in the next breath.

She pressed the front of her body to the wall and the doors opened with a screech. Cool air moved over her. Every muscle in her body froze, all except the incessant pulsing between her legs. He would see her. She’d moved too quick. Something would be showing. But then he sighed and the doors shut again.

All of her breath sagged out of her. She’d done it! She’d won the game. But before she could take her next breath, the doors were jerked open again and a hand ripped the knit cap off her head.

She shrieked as he wrenched the metal hangers aside. Then he was pressed up against her back, crowding her against the wall in the closet. His erection was hard against her, his lips hot against her ear. “I’d say olly olly oxen free, but we both know that’s a lie. You’re far from free, Dr. Rush.”