Complications (8 page)

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Authors: Cat Grant

BOOK: Complications
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She stared out the window, watching New York fade into the distance while she waited for him to address the elephant in the airplane. When he didn’t, she figured it was time to lead her own charge. “Are you going to tell me what happened this afternoon, or do I have to guess?”

Eric swirled the scotch in his glass, then set it back down on the small table between them without taking a sip. “I thought I saw Nick standing at the back of the ballroom when I finished making my toast. But it wasn’t him, Allison. I looked everywhere, and he wasn’t there. It was just my mind playing tricks on me.”

Nick. Well, of course. She should’ve guessed as much. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Would you rather it really had been him?”

“If it were, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now, would I?” His flinch was as good an answer as any. “You made me promises, Eric. You said you’d never lie to me, and that you’d remain faithful. I’m holding you to both of them.”

“I have no intention of violating your trust, or our marriage vows. You should know me well enough by now to know that I always honor my obligations.”

That stung, but she gritted her teeth until it passed. “Is that what I am to you now—an obligation?”

“No, of course not,” he replied slowly. “You’re my wife.”

“Exactly.” She finished her club soda, wishing she had something stronger. A slight buzz still lingered from the champagne she’d drunk that afternoon, but it was already fading. “You proposed to
me
, remember? And when I told you the kind of marriage I wanted, you didn’t blink an eye. So when you up and deserted me in the middle of our wedding reception, it came as a bit of a shock.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Nothing like that will ever happen again.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. I shouldn’t have pressed you about the other issues. Forcing someone to give their word never works out.”

“You didn’t force me. I agreed of my own free will.” He extended his hand, his fingers closing over hers, solid, warm and comforting. “Nick’s gone now. He’s in the past. There’s only one person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and I’m looking at her.”

He sounded so completely sincere, how could she stay angry with him? Especially when he looked at her with such warmth—and yes, desire—in his eyes. Her apprehension melted away, replaced by a relieved grin. “You sweet-talker, you.”

“I mean it, Allison. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, okay, I believe you. But what’s up with calling me Allison? You’ve been doing it all day.”

“Because it suits you. Ally was a twenty-year-old college girl. You’re a poised, assertive, beautiful woman.” He smiled. “But if it bothers you, I can go on calling you Ally.”

She thought about it, then shrugged. “No, Allison is fine. It’ll just take some getting used to.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, until they both started stifling yawns. Eric glanced at his watch, then heaved himself out of his chair with a groan. “We’ve got about six more hours in the air. Might as well get some rest.”

The banquette sofa at the far end of the cabin folded out into a double bed, but they didn’t get to sleep for a while. Eric had her jeans peeled off and his face between her legs in nothing flat, and stayed there until she came so hard she nearly blacked out. Then he moved up to kiss her on the lips as he pushed inside her. They moved together with exquisite, unbearable slowness until Eric shuddered and gasped, face buried in her shoulder as he climaxed.

“Welcome to the Mile-High Club, Mrs. Courtland.” He grabbed the thick, fluffy comforter off the floor, where it’d apparently fallen unnoticed a few minutes ago, and spread it over both of them.

She giggled. “What do you know? It
is
better at forty thousand feet.”

“I didn’t think you came that last time.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks to your talented tongue, I’m already well past my daily quota.” She sighed and snuggled in closer, her arm wrapped around his waist. “I don’t have to come every time, you know. I love watching you get off too, but it’s a little tricky when I’m seeing God at the same time.”

He smiled. “That’s the first time anyone’s ever complained that I’ve given them too
much
pleasure.”

“If you think that’s a complaint,” she mumbled drowsily, “you’d better not leave the toilet seat up.”

* * *

They slept through the rest of the flight, arriving in Paris around five o’clock local time the next morning. A limousine and uniformed driver were waiting at Orly to drive them into the city. Ally drowsed, leaning her head on Eric’s shoulder until they pulled up in front of the Plaza-Athéneé Hotel.

Eric helped her out of the limo and escorted her inside. Her jaw nearly hit her chest at the sight of the lobby, all gleaming marble, with a plush red and silver carpet and glittering multi-tiered chandelier. “My God, it’s like a palace!”

“Wait till you see our suite,” Eric replied with a smirk.

She had to remind herself to breathe the entire elevator ride to the sixth floor, but when the hotel manager, who’d insisted on accompanying them upstairs himself, proudly threw open the door to their room, her knees came close to buckling. It looked more like a luxurious private apartment than a hotel suite, with a full-sized living room, bedroom and
two
bathrooms, both in the same pale cream marble as the hotel lobby. Plum, gray and black dominated the rest of the stunning Art Deco décor. Their living room window opened onto a gorgeous view of the Avenue Montaigne, still shimmering with city lights. Fresh roses and lavender sat in cut-crystal bowls on every table, their sweet scent lightly perfuming the air.

An army of bellhops toting luggage followed them inside and started to unpack for them, but Eric dashed over to grab his black leather carry-on bag and tucked it away in a corner next to the bed. A bit strange—but despite Ally’s piqued curiosity, she couldn’t exactly ask him about it now. He quickly returned to her side to listen to the manager rattle off his litany of the suite’s many accoutrements, interjecting his own questions and comments in fluent French. Ally stared at him, caught between admiration and astonishment.

Luckily, she’d regained her equilibrium by the time the hotel staff finally left. “Ten years we’ve known each other, and I had no idea you spoke French,” she said, kicking off her shoes before she collapsed on the plum silk-covered sofa. “Guess I’ve still got a few surprises in store.”

“And sooner than you think, too.” He sat down beside her and reached for the phone. “But let’s call down for some breakfast first.”

He ordered café au lait, brioche, omelets and fresh fruit. They ate it sprawled barefoot on the floor next to the coffee table, wrapped in fluffy Turkish terry cloth bathrobes bearing the hotel’s monogram. Blissfully content, Ally sank back in Eric’s arms and gazed out the window, watching the sky fill with pale morning sun.

She sighed. “I hate to waste such a lovely day, but I’m way too tired to go out.”

“We’re still on New York time. Don’t worry about it. By tomorrow, you should be feeling more acclimated.”

“Hmm. Wonder what we can do to pass the time till then.”

“I have a few ideas. Like ravishing you in every room in this suite, for starters.” Grinning, he stood and held out his hand to her. “C’mon. I’ve brought along something I think you’ll like.”

She followed him into the bedroom and perched on the edge of the bed while he retrieved his carry-on bag. Her breath hitched he pulled out a coil of glossy black rope. “You love it when I hold you down,” he said. “This way you can still be restrained, and it’ll leave my hands free for other things.”

“Oh, I, um… Wow.” Swallowing hard, she ran her fingertips along the rope. It felt every bit as soft and smooth as it looked. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I know. And if you’d rather not, that’s fine. But I think you’d really enjoy it.”

If her stiffened nipples and the hot twitching were any clue, she’d have to agree with him. “I wouldn’t mind trying it. But what if—”

“If you don’t like it, we can stop anytime. But we’ll have to agree on a safe word, so you can let me know when you’ve had enough.”

“What’s wrong with plain old ‘stop’?”

“How many times have you told me to stop when you really didn’t mean it?”

“Good point.” She pondered it a moment, then started to giggle. “How about ‘Laura’?”

A tiny smile tugged at his lips. “Oh, you’re evil.”

“And you love it.”

“‘Laura’ it is.” He gestured for her to stand, then unknotted the belt of her robe and slid it off her shoulders. She shivered, the room’s cool air wafting over her naked skin. “Do you trust me?”

The question made her pulse trip faster. “Of, of course.”

“Good. Then lie down in the middle of the bed, and stretch your arms above your head.”

She did as he asked, barely holding back a whimper as she watched him uncoil the rope. He ran it through his hands to—what, warm it?—then knotted it around her wrists firmly enough to hold her in place, but not so tightly that it would cut off her circulation. Then he took the ends, threaded them through the slats at either end of the headboard and tied them off.

She was trembling and panting by the time he was done. Smiling, he leaned down to give her a deep kiss. “You look so beautiful like this,” he whispered, sliding off his own robe. His erect cock popped up, already wet at the tip. The sight of it pulled a desperate little gasp out of her.

She half expected him to crawl on top of her and start fucking her to a fare-thee-well, but instead he said, “I’ll be right back,” and disappeared into the living room. He returned with a glass of water from their breakfast tray. He took a sip and set it on the bedside table, then rolled onto the mattress beside her and started licking and sucking her nipples, and—

Oh God
. He had an ice cube in his mouth.

She writhed and shuddered, nearly screaming the house down at the brain-melting contrast between the cold, cold ice and Eric’s warm tongue. He kept going for the mercifully few seconds it took for the ice to dissolve, then started raining kisses along the length of her torso.

Groaning, she yanked at the ropes, tossing her head in frustration—but of course, they wouldn’t come loose. Eric had tied them securely. He expected her to work for her pleasure—and if his triumphant smile was any clue, he was already quite pleased with the way he’d driven her insane.

When he reached for the glass again, she knew what he was planning to do next. The mere thought made her mouth go dry. “Eric, stop, please…I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” He glanced down at her, his eyes practically dancing. “I don’t hear a safe word.”

It hung on the tip of her tongue for a split second before she choked it back down. If she called a halt now, she might never have the nerve to do this again, and she couldn’t bear to see that impish spark in Eric’s eyes go out. Couldn’t stand disappointing him—or herself.

The first touch of the ice cube on her clit sent bright, jagged lightning bursting behind her eyes, her hips arching off the mattress. Eric grabbed her by the waist and held on, teasing the hard, throbbing little button between his lips. Pleasure and pain collided, mingled and finally melted into each other, along with the last sliver of ice.

He licked and sucked her until she came, then until she couldn’t come anymore. She was just about to safe word when he lifted his head, shooting her a grin so smug she wished she had her hands free, so she could slap him. “Guess I don’t have to ask if you enjoyed that.”

“You bastard,” she breathed, still shuddering with aftershocks. “I can’t decide if I want to kiss you or kill you.”

“I’ll let you think about it for a few more minutes. It’s my turn now.” He got up and rummaged in his bag for a condom, then knelt between her legs to roll it on. The sight of his cock, swollen and angry with frustrated arousal, made her gasp.

“Eric, I don’t think I can—”

“Come again?” His eyebrows shot up. “I don’t expect you to. I recall you saying you loved watching me get off, so go ahead and watch. This time’s for me.”

He slid his hands under her, spread her thighs and entered her roughly. She stared into his eyes, icy blue and remote now, as he started fucking her, hard, fast and utterly without mercy. What the hell? A few minutes ago this had all been about her pleasure, but now he didn’t seem to care about that. Yes, she liked him to be forceful and dominant, but not like this, pounding her so hard it hurt, and despite her startled cries, he didn’t stop or even slow down. She turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut, her safe word floating to her lips—

Then he stopped—hell, the whole world stopped, except for the warm puff of his breath on her throat. He reached up and grabbed the end of rope dangling from right corner of the bed; one good tug was all it took to loosen it. He did the same with the left, then unknotted the rope from her wrists and massaged them until pins-and-needles prickle faded. “Better?” he whispered.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled him down for a kiss, sighing when he began moving in her again—slowly this time, building to a climax that engulfed both of them, leaving them shattered and wrecked in each other’s arms.

Ally opened her eyes to find Eric gazing down at her, somehow managing to look both proud and worried. “You okay?”

“Mmm.” Her arms hurt, but it wasn’t that bad—more tingly and achy than painful.

“Sorry I got a little carried away. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Didn’t keep her from shivering at the memory of his eyes going cold and hard—but still, he sounded sincere, which was all that mattered. He’d obviously been so concerned about her, he hadn’t gotten up to take his usual après-fuck shower yet. She snuggled in closer and drank in the warm scent of him, all sweat and sex, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Chapter Eight

Ally sighed and rolled over, stretching like a cat in the sun. Her neck and spine popped, but it felt good. “I hate to admit it, but I think I’m all fucked out.”

Eric laughed. “I’d expected you to say that yesterday. Insatiable slut.”

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