Beautiful Bastard (14 page)

We rode up in tense silence, until the last couple stepped out, leaving us alone. I closed my eyes, just trying to breathe, but of course all I could smell was him. I didn’t want him with someone else, and that feeling was so overwhelming that it took my breath away. And it was terrifying, because if I was to be honest, he could break my heart.

He could break me.

The elevator stopped and with a quiet ding, the doors opened at our floor.

“Chloe?” he prompted, his hand pressed to my back.

I turned, rushing out of the elevator.

“Where are you going?” he shouted after me. I heard his footsteps and knew there was going to be trouble. “Chloe, wait!”

I couldn’t outrun him forever. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to anymore.

Thirteen

A million thoughts ran through my mind in that second. We couldn’t keep doing this. Either this would continue or it had to stop.
Now
. It was interfering with my business, my sleep, my head—my fucking life.

But no matter how much I tried to kid myself, I knew what I wanted. I couldn’t let her leave.

She practically sprinted down the hall but I chased after her. “You can’t pull something like that and then expect me to just let you walk away!”

“The hell I can’t!” she yelled over her shoulder. She reached her room and fumbled with her key before shoving it into the slot.

I reached the door just as she got it open, meeting her eyes briefly before she ran in and tried to force it closed. My hand shot out, pushing it open so violently that it crashed into the wall behind it.

“What the
fuck
do you think you’re doing?” she yelled. She stepped into the bathroom opposite the door and spun around to face me.

“Will you quit running from me?” I followed her, my voice echoing in the small space. “If this is about that woman downstairs—”

She looked impossibly more furious at my words and took a step toward me. “Don’t you dare go there. I have never acted like a jealous girlfriend.” She shook her head in disgust before turning to the counter and rummaging through her purse.

I stared at her she grew more and more frustrated. What else could this be about? I was completely bewildered. Her anger usually had me slammed against something and half naked by now. Here, she seemed genuinely upset. “You think I would be interested in any random woman who puts her room key in my hand? What the hell kind of man do you think I am?”

She slammed a brush on the counter, looking up at me furiously. “Are you serious right now? I know you’ve done this before. Just sex, no strings attached—I’m sure you get room keys all the time.”

I started to reply, because in all honesty I had been in relationships that were strictly about the sex, but this thing with Chloe hadn’t been
just sex
for a while now.

But she cut me off. “I’ve never done anything close to this and I don’t know how to navigate it anymore,” she said, her voice getting louder with each word. “But when I’m with you, it’s like nothing else matters. This . . . this
thing
,” she continued, gesturing between us, “this isn’t me! It’s like I turn into a different person when I’m with you, and I
hate
it. I can’t do it, Bennett. I don’t like who I’m becoming. I work hard. I care about my job. I’m smart. None of that would matter if people knew what was happening between us. Go find someone else.”

“I already told you, I haven’t been with anyone since we started this.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t take a room key if it’s put in your hand. What would you have done if I hadn’t been there?”

Without hesitation, I said, “Handed it back.”

But she just laughed, clearly disbelieving. “Look. This whole thing exhausts me right now. I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

It was nearly impossible to imagine walking away from her and leaving this unresolved, but she’d already moved away and was turning on the shower. Just as I reached the door to the hall, I glanced back to where she stood, already surrounded by steam, watching me leave. And fuck if she didn’t look as conflicted as I felt.

Without thinking I crossed the room, gripped her face between my hands, and pulled her to me. When our lips met, she made a strangled sound of surrender, immediately digging her hands into my hair. I kissed her harder, claiming her sounds as my own, making her lips mine, her taste all mine.

“Let’s call a truce for one night,” I said, pressing three small kisses on her lips, one on each side and a lingering one in the middle, in the heart of her mouth “Give me all of you for one night, no holding back. Please, Chloe, I’ll leave you alone after that but I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks and . . . I just need tonight.”

She stared at me for several painful beats, clearly struggling. And then, with a quiet, pleading sound, she reached up and pulled me to her, standing on her toes to get as close as she could.

My lips were rough and unyielding but she didn’t move away, pressing her curves into me. I was lost to everything but her. We bumped into a wall, the counter, the shower door, shifting and pulling in our desperation. The room was completely filled with steam now, and nothing seemed real. I could smell, taste, and feel her, but none of it was enough.

Our kisses grew deeper, our touches wilder. I grabbed her ass, her thighs, slid my hands up and over her breasts, needing every part of her in my palms simultaneously. She pushed me back against the wall and a rush of warmth cascaded across my shoulder and down my chest, bringing me out of my haze. With our clothes still on, we had backed into the shower. We were getting soaked.

We didn’t care.

Her hands roamed my body frantically, yanking my shirt from my pants. With shaky hands she unbuttoned it, tearing off some buttons in her haste before sliding the wet fabric from my shoulders and tossing it outside the shower door.

The wet silk of her dress clung to her, accentuating every curve. I traced the fabric along her breasts, feeling her tight nipples underneath. She moaned and brought her hand to rest on mine, guiding my movements.

“Tell me what you want.” My voice was rough with need. “Tell me the things you want me to do to you.”

“I don’t know,” she whispered into my mouth. “I just want to see you come apart.”

I wanted to tell her that she was witnessing it now, and in all honesty she’d been watching it happen for weeks, but words fell away as I skimmed my hands down her sides and up under her dress. We teased and bit at each other’s mouths, the sound of the shower drowning out our moans. I slipped my hands into her panties and felt her warmth against my fingers.

Needing to see more of her, I removed my fingers and slid them up to the hem of her dress. In one movement I pulled it up and over her head and stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of what lay underneath.
Sweet Jesus.
She was trying to kill me.

I took a step back, leaning against the shower wall for support. She stood before me, soaking wet in white lace panties that tied on the side with a satin bow. Her nipples were hard and visible beneath the matching bra, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to touch them.

“Fuck, you are so beautiful,” I said, running my fingertips along her taut breasts. A visible shiver ran through her and my hand traveled upward, across her collarbone, along her neck, and finally to her jaw.

We could fuck right here, wet and slippery against the tile, and maybe we would later, but right now I wanted to take my time. My heart sped up at the thought that we had an entire night ahead of us. No rushing out or hiding. No bitter fighting and guilt. We had one whole night alone and I was going to spend the entire time with her . . . in a bed.

I reached behind her and turned off the shower. She pushed against me, pressing her body further into mine. I cradled her face in my hands and kissed her deeply, my tongue sliding easily against hers. Her hips rocked against me and I pushed the shower door open, holding on to her as we stepped out.

I couldn’t seem to stop touching her skin: down her back, over the gentle curve of her backside, back up again along her sides to her breasts. I needed to feel, to taste every inch of her skin.

Our kiss never broke as we made our way out of the bathroom, stumbling clumsily while we desperately tore at our remaining clothes. I kicked off my wet shoes as I backed her into the bedroom, her hands raking along my stomach as she reached for my belt. Guiding her, I was quickly free of my pants and boxers. In a rush, I kicked them to the side, where they landed in a wet pile.

I traced along her ribs with my knuckles before sliding to the clasp of her bra, releasing it and practically ripping it off her body. Pulling her closer, I groaned into her mouth as her hard nipples grazed my chest. The tips of her wet hair tickled my hands as they roamed her naked back, felt electric against my skin.

The room was dark, the only illumination coming from the small sliver of light that crept out from the bathroom door and the moon in the night sky. The back of her knees hit the bed and my hands ran down to the last piece of clothing between us. My mouth moved from her lips, down her neck, and across her breasts and torso. I placed soft biting kisses across her stomach and finally to the white lace that hid the rest of her from view.

Sliding to my knees in front of her, I looked up and met her eyes. Her hands were in my hair, running her fingers through the messy, wet strands.

Reaching out, I took one delicate satin ribbon between my fingers and pulled, watching it slide off her hip. A look of confusion crossed her face as I continued running my fingers along the lace edge to the other side and did the same. The fabric fell from her body undamaged until she was completely naked before me. I might not have destroyed them, but she could be damn sure I planned to take these pretties with me.

She laughed, seeming to read my mind.

I guided her back so that she sat on the edge of the bed and, still kneeling in front of her, I spread her legs. Running my hands down along the silky skin of her calves, I planted kisses along her thighs and between her legs. Her taste slid around my mouth and inside my head, erasing everything else. Fuck, what this woman did to me.

Pushing her back to lie across the sheets I finally moved up to join her, running my lips and tongue along her body, her hands still tangling in my hair, guiding where she wanted me most. I slipped my thumb into her mouth, needing her sucking on me somewhere, needing my own mouth on her breasts, her ribs, her jaw.

Her sighs and moans filled the room and mingled with my own. I was harder than I could ever remember being, and I wanted to bury myself in her over and over again. I reached her mouth and dragged my wet thumb across her cheek when she pulled me down to her, every inch of our naked bodies aligned.

We kissed frantically, hands seeking and grasping as we tried to get as close as possible. Our hips rocked together, my cock sliding against her soaking heat. Each pass along her clit elicited a moan. With one tiny move, I could be deep inside.

And I wanted that more than anything, but I needed to hear something from her first. When she’d said my name downstairs, it had set something off inside me. I didn’t understand it yet, didn’t know if it meant something I wasn’t completely ready to explore, but I knew I needed her to say it, to hear it was me she wanted. I needed to know that for tonight, she was mine.

“I am fucking dying to be inside you right now,” I whispered into her ear. Her breath caught and a deep moan escaped her lips. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” she whimpered, her voice pleading and her hips rocked higher off the bed in search of me. My tip grazed her entrance and I clenched my jaw, wanting to prolong this. Her heels ran up and down my legs, finally locking around my waist. I took each of her hands and placed them above her head, entwining our fingers.

“Please, Bennett,” she begged. “I’m losing my mind.”

I lowered my head so our foreheads touched and I finally pushed deep inside her.

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned.

“Say it again.” I was becoming breathless as I began to move in and out of her.

“Bennett—
fuck
.”

I wanted to hear it again and again. I pulled myself up on my knees and began thrusting into her more steadily, both of our hands still entwined.

“I can’t get enough of this.” I was getting close and I needed to hold out. I’d been away from her too long, and nothing I’d fantasized about while she was away compared to this.

“I want you like this every day,” I growled against her damp skin. “Like this, and bent over my desk. On your knees sucking my dick.”

“Why?” she hissed between clenched teeth. “Why do I love it when you talk to me like that? You’re such a
prick
.”

I lowered myself onto her again, laughing into her neck.

We moved together effortlessly, sweat-slicked skin sliding against skin. With each thrust she raised her hips to meet me, her legs around my waist pulling me deeper. I was so lost in her that time seemed to stop. Our hands were still tightly clasped above her head and she began gripping tighter. She was getting close, her cries becoming louder and my name leaving her lips over and over, pushing me closer to the edge.

“Give it up.” My voice was ragged with the desperation I felt. I was so close but I wanted to wait for her. “Let go, Chloe, come all over me.”

“Oh, God, Bennett,” she moaned. “Say something else.”
Fuck
.
My girl got off on dirty talk.
“Please.”

“You’re so fucking slippery and hot. When you get close,” I panted, “your skin flushes everywhere and your voice gets hoarse. And there is nothing more fucking perfect than your face when you come.”

She squeezed me harder with her legs and I felt her breath hitch, felt her tighten around me.

“Your fucking bee-stung lips go all soft and open when you pant for me, your eyes begging me to make it good and, fuck, nothing is better than the sound you make when you’re finally there.”

That was all it took. I deepened my strokes, lifting her off the bed with every thrust. I was teetering on the edge now, and when she cried out my name, I couldn’t hold back any longer.

She muffled her screams against my neck as I felt her let go, clenching wildly beneath me—nothing in the world felt as good as this, letting the rush build inside and crash over us, together—and I let go too.

Afterward, I moved my face close to hers, our noses touching, breath coming out hard and fast. My mouth was dry, my muscles ached, and I was exhausted. I loosened her grip on my hands and rubbed her fingers gently, trying to bring some of the circulation back.

“Holy shit,” I said. Everything felt different, but completely undefined. Rolling off her, I closed my eyes, trying to block out the tangle of thoughts.

Beside me, she shivered.