Crash Into You (22 page)

She writhed against the wall and sweat slicked both their bodies as he balanced on the precipice before release. He refused to let it end too soon. He wanted to savor the feel of having her in his arms, enjoy the wild look in her green eyes as she hurtled
toward her own bliss. “Touch yourself, sugar. I’ve got you.”

Her fingers uncurled from the shelf, and she lowered her hand to her swollen clit, stroking over it with the confidence of a woman who wasn’t ashamed to take her pleasure. The move shot lightning through his blood, tightening his balls and dragging him even closer to the edge.

She leaned her head back, her breath turning choppy. “Oh, God.”

“That’s right, baby. You come for me. Let me hear how much you like me fucking you hard.”

“Reid,”
she ground out, the word rattling out her throat and her inner muscles rippling around him as she flew apart.

Unable to resist the combination of her orgasm and the erotic sound of her calling his name, his entire body tensed, the sweet ecstasy of oncoming release rushing along his nerve endings. His cock swelled inside her, and he crushed her against him as the heated pulse of his own climax jetted through him.

When they both quieted, his legs felt as if they would collapse beneath him. Keeping a snug hold on her, he turned until his back was against the wall and then slid them both to the floor.

She touched her forehead to his and laced her fingers at the nape of his neck. “Okay, so that was worth the wait.”

He laughed and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Definitely.”

Although he didn’t plan on ever making her wait that long
again. The trip had been a mistake. He’d agreed to go with his aunt and uncle for the vacation, thinking it would be a good way to get his head clear and get some perspective on his situation with Brynn. Maybe shake off the feelings she stirred up in him—feelings that had no place in a summer hookup.

But it hadn’t worked. Instead, hanging around with his family’s hoity-toity crowd had only made him want Brynn more.

For a while, he’d convinced himself their scorching sexual chemistry was the only reason the sun seemed to get brighter anytime she was near. But the week away had burned that theory into a pile of ash. As he sat on the beach night after night, staring at the ocean, he’d realized that the agonizing ache he felt didn’t reside below his belt but square in the middle of his chest.

He missed her.

For the first time in his life, he felt comfortable in his own skin, and she was the reason. The people in his world always came with conditions, fine print. But not Brynn. Even after he’d told her about his father, she hadn’t judged, only accepted. She’d embraced the dark parts of him as well as the bright spots. He’d never experienced that kind of total acceptance—not even from his mom. And he didn’t want to give that up.

Not now. Not at the end of the summer. Maybe not ever.

And he had no idea what in the hell to do with
that
realization.

Asking Brynn to be in a relationship with him was akin to inviting her into a snake pit. The people who ran in his family’s social circle could be vicious. They’d slice her apart with their genteel passive-aggressiveness and backhanded comments before she even realized what was happening. Plus, if he and Brynn started dating publicly and the press dug into her background… Hell, he didn’t even want to think about that. Beyond the fallout from his aunt and uncle over the campaign, he’d never forgive himself for bringing that kind of scrutiny and exposure down on Brynn.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

Even if he could figure out a way to shield her from the land mines in his life, she’d given him no signs that she had any interest in him beyond the summer. Sure, the whole thing was fun and different for her right now. She was trying it out. Just like she’d try out a threesome if he offered one. But would she want this kind of relationship with him for real?

He intended to find out soon. If she felt even an inkling of what he felt for her, maybe they could figure out a way to be together.

He shook himself from his thoughts and smiled. “How about some dinner, sugar?”

Her lips parted to answer, but a noise coming from down the hall made them both freeze.

“Shit,” he whispered. He strained to listen. What in the hell was that? “Is that the… the copy machine?”

Her eyes widened and she climbed off his lap, hurriedly standing and tugging her skirt down. “Did you lock the front door?”

Had he? He thought he had, but maybe in his rush to see Brynn he’d forgotten.

He buttoned his pants and stood, putting his finger to his lips to hush her. If someone was in the office, he and Brynn could be in trouble for a number of reasons. He didn’t want anyone knowing about their relationship, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. If someone had broken in, they could be in much more serious danger.

He leaned next to her ear. “Stay here. Don’t come out until I call for you. If I’m not back in ten minutes, call 911.”

“Reid,”
she whispered, latching on to his shirtsleeve. “Don’t go out there, what if it’s a burglar?”

“I’m sure it’s fine. What burglar would use the copy machine?” he whispered, trying to reassure her, but not convincing himself.

He crossed over to the sink and pulled open a drawer but found only plastic utensils. Damn. He bent and opened the cabinet
below. He grabbed the small fire extinguisher. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

He headed toward the doorway and poked his head out into the hallway. Empty. The copy machine was still going at a steady pace in the distance. Click and glide. Click and glide.

He slipped into the hall, keeping his back close to the interior wall, and inched forward on quiet feet. If he could get to the end of the corridor, he’d be able to peer around and see the spread of the main office area. Step by agonizing step he made it closer to his destination, all the while telling himself that the stealth was for nothing. That it was probably just one of the office workers stopping in for something. But the hairs on the back of his neck said otherwise.

As he reached the end of hall, he carefully peeked around the corner. The whole office was dark except for the parking lot lights illuminating the glass doors at the front and the green and white dance of lights under the lid of the unattended copy machine across the room.

“Hello?” he called out. “Anyone there?”

Only the monotonous rhythm of the damn copier answered.

Unwilling to traipse around the place in the dark to search, he reached for the light switch and flipped on the bank of overhead fluorescents. He scanned the room quickly to make sure no one was in sight, then started looking behind desks, keeping the fire extinguisher poised for his lame spray-and-distract plan.

Once he’d secured that area and checked that the front door was indeed locked, he did a cursory search of the private offices. Not a soul anywhere.

He blew out the breath he’d been holding.

Huh. Maybe some weird glitch in the copier.

He stuck his head in the hallway and called out, “Brynn, all clear.”

He headed across the room to shut off the annoying contraption
that had caused the drama. The machine had been queued up for five hundred copies and was steadily pumping them out. He hit the stop button and grabbed the top page of the stack in the output slot.

His blood ran cold.

A photo filled the center of the page—the two faces in profile easily identified. He and Brynn naked by the lake during a midnight tryst from a few weeks ago, her arms bound behind her, his hand poised above her backside, ready to strike. Underneath the photo, a handwritten message in small block letters:

Y
OUR DADDY WOULD BE SO PROUD.
K
EEP FUCKING THE WHORE, AND I’LL MAKE SURE EVERYONE KNOWS ALL ABOUT THE TWO OF YOU AND YOUR DIRTY LITTLE SKELETONS.
T
HINK YOUR FAMILY LOVES YOU ENOUGH TO STAND BY YOU IF THE WHOLE WORLD FINDS OUT HOW SICK YOU REALLY ARE?

“Reid?” Brynn called from the other side of the office, her voice tentative. “Everything okay?”

He ripped the original from underneath the copier’s lid and grabbed the stack of printed pages. The papers quivered in his shaking hands. “Everything’s fine, sugar.”

now

“What?”
Reid asked, his stubbled jaw hanging open at Brynn’s proposition.

Brynn stared up at him, willing herself not to turn tail and run after coming on to him. She needed to do this or she was going to spend the whole weekend flinching like a wounded bird.

During the kiss with him in front of the group, she had glimpsed a feeling—a whisper of freedom that she hadn’t felt since the day someone had decided to violate her. If she could just rip off the bandage—guerilla-style exposure therapy like Melody had suggested—then maybe she could break the shackles that seemed to weigh her down any time she was near a dominant man.

She wet her lips. “I said not to ask questions.”

His eyes darkened. “Last I checked, I’m the dom here, so I’ll ask what I want.”

“Are you attracted to me?”

He crossed his arms, the muscles in his shoulders shifting and bunching. “Well, I’m not fucking dead.”

“Then, please, just go with it. I don’t want to talk about the
past or why we hate each other. Let’s leave all of that outside these grounds for the next three days. You know we’re not going to be able to make it through our stay here only kissing in front of people.”

He looked left, then right. “There are no people here now. Who is this show going to be for?”

My sanity
. At least if she panicked, she wouldn’t have to do it in front of the whole club. “Myself. I don’t want to flinch every time you touch me. Maybe your breaking-the-ice idea wasn’t such a bad one—we could get this first time out of the way in private.”

“Get it out of the way. Like I’m a dentist appointment or something?” He smirked, but she didn’t miss the weariness in his voice. “Come on, be honest. Why don’t you just admit that underneath that big grudge you’re holding, you still want me?”

She threw her head back and groaned. “You’re such a jerk sometimes, you know that? Yes, I’m attracted to you, okay. I wouldn’t offer to have sex with you if I wasn’t.”

He gave her a triumphant smile, picked up the shirt from the floor, and handed it to her. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’ll make sure we get it out of the way, but it’s not going to happen because I’m some item to scratch off your to-do list. I’ll decide when and what happens.”

Ugh
. Couldn’t the man cooperate with anything? She yanked the shirt from his hands. “Screw you.”

He walked past her and stretched out on the couch. “Later. I promise.”

She balled her fists and fought the inclination to stomp her feet like a child. She’d never met a more frustrating man in her life. How had she ever fallen for such a jackass? Without wasting another breath on him, she stomped past him, down the narrow hallway, and slammed the bedroom door behind her.

Like the rest of the cabin, the upscale rustic theme continued in the bedroom—dark woods, cream-colored fabrics, and soft
lighting. It could have been a luxury cabin at any fine resort if not for the metal loops drilled into the walls and a leather and wooden bench contraption at the foot of the bed. She grimaced. This was going to be the longest freaking weekend of her life.

She rubbed her arms to fight off a shiver, and Reid’s heady scent wafted up from the shirt, reminding her of balmy nights and twisted sheets. The urge to bury her face in the soft cotton ratcheted through her. Damn it to hell. Why did the jerk have to smell good, too?

All right, enough of this ensemble
. Letting the shirt fall to the floor, she headed to the closet and slid the louver doors open. But the contents only inspired a groan.
Frederick’s of Hollywood called—they want their inventory back.
She flipped through the satin-covered hangers with a huff. Lingerie, slinky dresses, vinyl getups, and enough leather to outfit a Judas Priest fan club. Terrific. She’d thought the items she’d packed had been sexy enough, but apparently the dress code here required hooker chic.

She grabbed a black bustier and a brief leather skirt and held them up in front of her. At least these would cover the essentials—not a guarantee most of the other options afforded. She tossed the items on the bed and grabbed a pair of knee-high black boots from the floor of the closet. Well, at least those weren’t so bad.

A sharp rap on the door sent her bolting upright. “Brynn, you’ve got five more minutes to pout, then I need you out here. Company’s coming.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she called through the closed door.

“Just put your game face on and get out here.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll be right there.”

A few minutes later she heard Reid let someone in and the murmuring of male conversation. She gave herself one last glance in the mirror, pulled up the bustier a little more to make sure her
boobs wouldn’t tumble out, and headed into the living room. The click of her boots earned raised heads from both the men.

Reid’s eyes widened as his gaze swept over her new clothes. “Guess you found the closet.”

Brynn ignored him and focused on their guest. “Hi, Jace.”

“Hot damn, girl, you look smoking,” he said, a wide smile splitting his face.

“Thanks.” He didn’t look so bad himself. Linen pants, untucked button-down shirt, and wavy blond hair pulled back in a short ponytail. If she weren’t so annoyed with him, she would’ve returned his compliment. She settled into the overstuffed chair opposite the one Jace sat in. “So what happened to ‘I’m not going to be here this weekend.’”

His gaze darted to Reid, then back to her. “Plans changed at the last minute.”

She smirked. “Right.”

“Be nice, Brynn,” Reid warned. “Jace doesn’t do one-on-one stuff—he’s known around here for ménage. It would’ve looked suspicious if he’d taken you on. Plus, he’s already doing us a huge favor by getting us in. I don’t want to risk him or his business with Grant by dragging him in deeper.”