A Kept Man (20 page)

“And Roderick?”

There was another nervous beat Thomason couldn’t help but
relish. “Yes?”

“Good work. You may just get paid after all.”

He hung up without bothering to hear the other man’s response.
It didn’t interest him. All that did was the two people in that
house.

Carpenter had cost him a great deal of money. He would pay for that.
The only question was how Thomason would accomplish that.

He smiled, suddenly excited in a way he usually was only before a
heist.

This should be fun.

Chapter
Fourteen

She was ready for him. She opened her lips the split second before he
kissed her, right on cue, and shoved her tongue into his mouth the
instant it fell over hers.

Their tongues met, clashed. He cupped the back of her neck with one
hand, running his thumb over the long length of her throat. He felt
her shiver at the touch. His other hand aimed lower, reaching down to
grip between her legs. Her eyes jerked open to meet his, which he’d
never closed at all. He swallowed her gasp before breaking the kiss.

Her folds were already throbbing in his hand, ready to open and admit
him. And they were barely getting started.

“Glad to see you’re not getting tired of me.”

“Not possible,” she said, her eyes smoky with desire. Her
mouth worked unconsciously, almost pouting, as though begging him to
continue the kiss.

“Good. So tell me. What’s your pleasure?”

She smirked. “Like you have to ask.”

He had to smile at that. “I mean, how do you want it? Hard and
fast or long and slow?”

“All of the above.”

“Good choice,” he said, and kissed her again.

He hadn’t put on a shirt that afternoon, since she’d long
since gotten past her aversion to seeing his exposed skin. It seemed
like an especially good choice now, since it only would have gotten
in the way. Her breasts mashed against his chest, the incredibly soft
skin smooth against the hard ridges of his upper body. He pulled her
tight against him, his fingers digging into the curve of her spine.
He couldn’t get enough. This was the feeling he wanted to hold
on to. This was what he wanted to remember, the way she felt, her
body pressed entirely against his. The way they fit together
perfectly. The way it felt to hold her in his arms, and that little
sigh she released when they locked together just right.

But it wasn’t quite right yet. He realized it right after she
did, when she began to fumble with the waistband of his pants. His
hard-on was still painfully restrained, pushing against the fabric
instead of her yielding folds where it longed to be. He immediately
dropped his hands to help her.

“Don’t,” she murmured, breaking free of the kiss.
“Let me.”

Her fingers finally worked the button loose. She grabbed the
waistband in both hands and pushed his pants off. His cock sprang
free, rising to fill her hand.

She wrapped her fingers around the length of him, rolling her thumb
over the sensitive head.

A smile played on her lips. “I guess this means you’re
not getting tired of me either.”

“Not even close.”

There was a huskiness in his voice he hadn’t expected. If she
noticed it, she gave no indication. Even if she did, she couldn’t
know the real reason for it.

She slowly pulled her hand up and down, giving his cock one long,
slow caress. A low growl lodged in his throat, the result of the
effort to keep himself from losing it.

“I want you inside me,” she murmured, staring up into his
eyes. The sound of those words were as much of a turn-on as the feel
of her breasts pressed to his chest and the tight grasp of her
fingers on his cock. Something broke loose inside of him, shattering
that last burst of control.

Jerking out of her grasp, he yanked a drawer open and pulled out one
of the condoms he knew was inside. He had to give Felicity credit—or
maybe it was the real Charlie—but the things were tucked away
everywhere. Ripping the packet open, he rolled it onto his cock.

He barely had it on before he whirled back to her. He reached down
and grabbed her buttocks in both hands, lifting her straight off of
her feet. She gasped in surprise, in arousal. It made no sound. He
was already kissing her again, and he felt her reaction as she sucked
the breath straight from his lungs.

Her legs automatically went around him to encircle his waist. She
might as well have weighed nothing. He didn’t feel the weight
of her. He only felt her soft flesh in his hands, against his mouth.
She wound her arms around his neck for balance, mashing them even
closer together. He couldn’t even begin to process all the
sensations that came with having this woman in his arms, every inch
of bare skin and sweetly rounded curves scraping against his raw
nerve endings. She filled every one of his senses. All he felt was
her. All he tasted was her. All he smelled was her.

He stumbled forward until he met resistance. Her back collided with
the kitchen wall. He braced her against it, using the added leverage
to move his hands to her hips. His fingers into her buttocks as he
lifted her higher, poising her above his straining cock.

The tip of his dick pushed against her wet folds, ready to push
inside. The feeling of his most sensitive part against hers was so
excruciatingly hot it was all he could do not to plunge her down onto
him.

She took the decision out of his hands, pushing down and lowering
herself onto him.

Then he couldn’t think anything at all. He was surrounded by
her soft, sweet, liquid heat. The sense of it filled every cell in
his body. He felt her reaction, a sigh of satisfaction, of
fulfillment. It was the same emotion rolling through him.

As right as it was, they both wanted more. He withdrew, then pushed
in again. It didn’t take long for them to find their rhythm. He
thrust inside her over and over again, pinning her to the wall with
the force of each one. The sound of her moans echoed in his ears,
mingling with his own. The pressure built inside of them, pushing
higher and higher. Their bodies grew rigid, straining for release.
But they each held on, wanting to prolong the moment, wanting more.

Then he pulled out one more time, leaving just the head of his cock
inside her, and stopped.

She was so caught up in the onslaught of sensations that she didn’t
immediately react to his withdrawal. Only when he said, “Open
your eyes,” did she blink and look into his face.

“I want to look in your eyes when you come.”

He didn’t give her time to process the words. He pushed all the
way inside one last time, filling her to the hilt.

She came.

It was a beautiful sight. He watched the shift of emotions that
passed across her eyes. Her expression changed from rigid to euphoric
to sated. He saw everything she felt right there on her face. Her
pleasure was his, and when he came, the force of it was longer and
harder than anything he’d ever experienced before.

Through it all, he never took his eyes off hers. And when he came
down, she was there, watching him. The look on her face was something
he’d never forget. Joy. Contentment.

If he had to hold on to something forever, this was what he wanted to
remember most of all.

HOURS LATER THEY LAY CURLED TOGETHER on the bedroom floor. They’d
made it back upstairs some time ago. They hadn’t made it to the
bed.

Jess lay in the crook of his arm. She idly traced the lines of his
chest, letting her fingertips play along his musculature. His muscles
responded, retracting beneath her touch. She marveled at the
sensation. It was fascinating, the way his body worked, the way it
responded to her. She could have watched it for hours.

She’d never felt this close to another person in her life. It
was more than physical closeness. She’d never felt this
comfortable or felt such contentment simply being with someone else.
It was nice. No, it was more than that.

That was the problem.

Not wanting to think about that, she turned her face to look up at
him. His eyes were already focused on her, the look in them enough to
make her melt all over again.

“I’ve been thinking about what you told me this
afternoon,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot already.”

“I make so many wise statements it’s hard to keep track
of them all.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “You told me to trust my
instincts.”

“See? That’s very wise.”

“Hmmm…Does this mean you’re admitting that my
instincts are right when they’re telling me there’s more
to you than you’d like me to believe?”

He never broke eye contact with her, but she sensed his withdrawal.
She almost tightened her arms around him to keep him from pulling
away, except he wasn’t moving physically. She felt it all the
same. She almost wished she could take the question back. At the same
time, she wanted to know the answer more than ever.

Charlie reached up and traced the curve of her face, his touch gentle
and warm. “It just means you should never let one
misjudgment—or even two—make you doubt yourself.”

“That’s a non-answer.”

“It’s really not. Or are you questioning my wisdom now
after I’ve taught you so much?”

“I’m questioning a hell of a lot about you.”

“That’s because you’re a very smart woman,”
he murmured. Before she could respond, he bent his head and kissed
her.

He was maddening. He was evasive, he danced around her questions with
practiced ease, he held back more than he revealed. And yet, when his
lips met hers, she could only close her eyes and lean into his kiss.

He pulled away first. He lay back against the carpet and watched her.
His gaze was warm against her skin, and all she could do was stare
back. But inevitably, the doubts crept back. The ache in her chest
wouldn’t let her forget them. They only made her heart twist
more painfully.

“Do you ever feel guilty about what you do?”

For the longest moment, she wasn’t sure he was going to answer.
He was looking right at her, but the faraway look in his eyes made
him seem that much more distant from her. A sense of loneliness swept
through her, as though he’d left her alone.

“I never did,” he admitted finally. “Until I met
you.”

She felt an unexpected twinge of guilt. “Don’t be. I
never wanted to make you feel bad.”

“That’s nice of you, but I don’t think it works
that way.”

“Everybody has a past.”

“Some more than others,” he said with a rueful smile.

“Maybe so. What matters is whether we repeat our mistakes or
move past them.”

“And whether the people we’ve wronged forgive us.”

She opened her mouth to respond. He didn’t give her the chance.
He kissed her again. It was different this time. Longer, more urgent.
His arm snaked around her and pulled her so close it felt like he’d
never let go. Even as she responded to the practiced movement of his
lips, another feeling bloomed inside of her. Something just as
urgent, that told her to hold on as tight as possible. She couldn’t
have explained the heaviness in her chest if she tried. But something
in his kiss felt curiously like goodbye.

JESS WOKE EARLY THE NEXT MORNING. Sunlight washed over the bed. She
turned her head to find Charlie sound asleep beside her, his arm
still wrapped around her shoulder. She didn’t remember climbing
onto the bed last night. He must have picked her up while she was
sleeping.

She watched him for a moment, observing the gentle rise and fall of
his chest. She could have watched him forever. Eventually she made
herself pull away, rising to her feet and walking to the bathroom.
She felt all out of whack, confused in a way she hadn’t been
since she’d sat in that cell in Brazil a year ago wondering
what the hell was going on. She hadn’t liked the feeling then.
She sure didn’t like it now.

Her workout clothes were still hanging in the bathroom from the other
morning. She reached for them. A run should clear her head.

Grabbing her iPod, she clipped it onto her shorts and walked down to
the street. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t pay any
attention to her surroundings.

“Talk about perfect timing.”

The unexpected sound of the man’s voice caught her off-guard.
She jerked her head toward the speaker.

It was the same jogger she’d seen the other morning. He stood a
few feet away. She noticed a few things right away. He wasn’t
running in place to keep his heart pumping, like someone who had
interrupted his jog to stop and speak with her might have done. He
also wasn’t breathing heavily. It was as though he’d been
waiting for her to come out. The timing wasn’t perfect. It was
suspicious.

“Right,” she said, eyeing him warily. “Funny seeing
you here.”

“Not really. I run by here every day about the same time.”

“Well, that is lucky.”
And unlikely
.

“More like fortuitous. I have to admit, I was hoping to run
into you.”

I’m sure you were, pal
. She scrambled to think of a way
to politely extricate herself from this awkward moment. He spoke
again before she had the chance.

“I was wondering if you’d like to come over to dinner
tonight. Or I could come over here.” He took a step closer. The
gesture was non-threatening. She still had to resist the urge to take
a step back. “I know how hard it can be to meet people in a new
city, and L.A. in particular isn’t the most hospitable to
newcomers.”

Oddly enough, she’d heard the same thing. Her experience, on
the other hand, had been the exact opposite, thanks to Charlie.

“Thanks for the offer…” She let the sentence trail
off, unable to remember his name.

“Dan,” he supplied.

“Dan,” she repeated in agreement. “But I’m
not really looking to meet anyone. I really came more for the
solitude.”