Giving It Up: Pushing the Boundaries, Book 1 (14 page)

Oh, good Lord, he was so hard. He felt like an iron bar in her palm. He must be in pleasurable agony, having had to wait for so long.

He’d been so trusting. He deserved a reward.

When she stroked, he actually whimpered. She kept an eye on his nipples, not wanting to keep the clamps on for much longer, but she didn’t think she’d have to worry about that.

“Tell me when you’re close,” she commanded, and he nodded tightly, pushing up through the tight circle of her hand.

His whole body was starting to shake, and she sped up her movements, pumping him faster and faster, until he gritted out, “So close.
Fuck
.” Only then did she let go of his balls, reaching up to release the nipple clamps, and he let out a shout of surprised pain immediately before his orgasm hit, his cock jerking in her hand as his come shot out of his body, so strong that he bowed with the intensity.

He groaned, long and loud, still pumping out fluid for a while longer, until he fell back, limp, with a harsh exhale.

Oh my God. That was spectacular.

Beatrice was still kneeling next to him, staring at his gorgeous face, when he reached for her, pulling her down to him. She didn’t protest, didn’t hesitate, just sank against him, pushing the blindfold from his eyes before she kissed him with everything she had.

If he died right now, it would have been worth it.

Warren reveled in the feel of Beatrice’s mouth on his. Fuck, he loved kissing this woman. This woman, who had brought him more satisfaction than he’d ever felt. He wanted to tell her how much he cherished her. How much he cared. How much he—

Shit.
Did
he love her?

No. It couldn’t be. It felt too soon. It had to be too soon.

Despite that, he couldn’t help but feel like she understood him. She gave him everything he wanted. Took away some of the burdens of his life. He couldn’t deny that she at least made him feel better than he did with anyone else.

Maybe that wasn’t love, but it was…something.

She pulled her mouth away, and he realized his had gone slack, too absorbed in wondering what he felt about her to stay in the moment. He wanted to apologize, to ask her to come back, but what would he say?
Sorry, I got distracted while trying to figure out if I love you?

She gave him a wry smile and pulled away, the skin of their bellies making a soft sucking sound. She’d been lying on the come that had landed on his body.

Hell. That should be gross, but instead it was more sexy on top of all the sexy that had already happened tonight.

“I’ll get a towel for this and—” She gestured to the general area of his legs, and he presumed she was referring to the plug she’d inserted with so much expertise that he’d felt only pleasure, but was apparently now too shy to talk about.

Yep. He loved her.

Fuck.

She blushed. “Wait here.” And then she disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a damp towel that she used to clean him off before setting it on the sheet between his legs. “Take a deep breath.”

He did as she asked, then on the exhale, she pulled the plug out, leaving him pulsing around a strange emptiness. That part wasn’t painful. None of it had been, not really, apart from a slight discomfort going in and coming out again. But when he’d been coming…Christ. He’d never come that hard in his life. That plug had been pushing right up against something in his body that had felt so good.

It wasn’t something he would have ever considered doing in the past, but with Beatrice, he seemed to stop thinking, stop caring. He let her take over and he was glad of it, even though now his arms ached to hold her, to turn things around and dominate her for a while, to take her hard, slow, beneath him, above him…every conceivable way.

But that wasn’t part of their agreement.

Of course, this hadn’t been, either. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to protest, though. Weeks ago, he’d thought it wouldn’t be a problem to resist her, despite everything that had happened between them already. But she’d merely touched him and his brain had shut down, his heart beating fast and hard to the rhythm of her name.

Beatrice.

She brought everything to the bathroom again and washed up. When she returned, she surprised him by lying down next to him, pulling the blankets over them like they were a real couple. His hand played over the skin of her belly, and he couldn’t resist leaning forward and placing a kiss on her temple…her neck…

He put his lips on hers and then shifted so that he was half on top of her, loving the way she made soft sounds of arousal as he kissed her.

“I want to make you come too.” He spoke the words against her lips, moving so that one of his legs was between hers, but she froze, putting one hand to his chest and looking at him strangely.

She frowned up at him. “I don’t understand.”

She didn’t sound confused, though. Instead, she said it forcefully, like she was angry he’d suggested such a thing.

He felt himself frowning back. “You don’t understand what it means when I say—?”

She sighed. “No, I get what you meant. I…I thought this was just business for you. I mean, I know we’ve kissed, but—”

He pulled away and sat up. Had he been thinking she knew him so well? The reminder that this was “just business” practically stabbed him in the gut. All along she’d simply been doing a job. He shouldn’t have let her touch him. Not like that.

He felt like a fool.

He swung his legs off the bed. “I should get going.”

She sat up too, her hand reaching for him. “Wait. No. That… Warren, I—”

“I’m sorry about the…kissing. It won’t happen again.” He felt wrong. He felt disappointed and angry, even though he had no right to be. He should have expected this.

“Stop right there.” Her voice made him freeze in the middle of pulling on his jeans. It was the voice of command. The one she used when she was playing with him.

He was powerless to resist it.

“You told me you didn’t want anything more from me. You told me you wanted a business arrangement and I’m trying to respect that.
I’m
sorry about the kissing. About touching you so intimately. It has obviously messed things up. But I’m already…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You want to give me pleasure? How can I let you do something like that? How can I let you in any more knowing that this will end? I can’t afford that kind of risk.”

What was she saying? That she wanted to be with him, but she didn’t want to take the risk with him?

It was the smart thing to do. He’d only end up disappointing her.

He groaned and walked to the edge of the bed, taking her face in his palms and pressing a kiss to her lips. She stared up at him.

“Let’s forget about it then, okay? Forget I said anything. I’m sorry.”

He thought it would make things better, but she only looked sadder.

It’s for the best.

He turned away and grabbed the rest of his clothes. “Look. I’ll see you next Wednesday. That hasn’t changed. Everything will be fine by then. I think tonight was a little intense, that’s all. It’s no big deal.”

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

She nodded, pulling the covers up around her as she sat on the bed. But she wouldn’t look at him.

It hurt him to see how the woman who had ordered him onto her bed, who had had the confidence and care to take him to a new level of pleasure, was wrapping herself in a linen cocoon. And she was doing it because he’d made her feel bad. He’d confused her and made her feel things for him that he didn’t deserve.

It was his fault.

But he couldn’t fix it. If he fixed it, that would mean getting involved. And if he got involved, she’d want too much of him that he wouldn’t be able to give. She’d leave him.

Besides, there were too many responsibilities waiting for him in the outside world.
That
was real life. This was an hour on Wednesdays.

He strode to the door. Opened it. Took a deep breath…

And left her behind.

Chapter Fifteen

“Have you seen Nina since she got back?”

Beatrice blinked, pulling herself out of her daydream about Warren, to find Rob standing in front of her desk. He was holding a laptop in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other.

Funny, but after she’d snapped at him the week before last about the photo proofs, Rob had actually been a lot more deferential toward her. She wondered if that was just his way, to push until someone either stood up to him or crumbled completely. He and Nina had started off a bit at odds too, but once Nina had taken over the television programming and left the print media side of the house, they’d become much more friendly, swapping news stories regularly and even hanging out in the break room from time to time.

She liked this change in their relationship. It felt more equal and it gave her pride that she didn’t even realize was available for the taking.

“She waved to me in the hall a couple days ago. She said she’s slogging through catchup work, though, so probably won’t come up for air for another week or two.” It was hard to form words, as though she was so deep in thoughts of Warren the rest of her brain had simply given up. Somehow, she’d made it through nearly an entire week without seeing him, even though she’d wanted so much to pick up the phone and call him and say—what?
I don’t like the way you confuse me? I want to be more than the girl you come all over every week?

Awkward.

Although she wanted to say so much, the reality was she couldn’t fathom
actually
doing it. It was one thing to kiss him within the boundaries of their arrangement. Well, more or less, anyway. But it was another thing to step outside of that safe zone and risk total humiliation. She’d gotten enough of a taste of that last week.

And yet, she still wanted him. Beyond all reason, she wanted him.

Rob snorted. “That was a long honeymoon they had. Thank God she taped a bunch of episodes before she left. That substitute nearly ruined the show. The guy was so boring, it was like listening to someone read the dictionary instead of deliver the news.”

Before Beatrice could nod in agreement, Jerry, the media director, barreled out of his office and ran over to her desk. “Rob, Beatrice. Get down to Orleans High School. A bomb threat came in and SWAT has been called to respond.”

Bomb threat?
Oh, shit.
SWAT was being called in.

That meant
Warren
.

Rob scuttled to his desk and began grabbing up his things, but she sat there for a moment, frozen, wondering how on earth she was going to be able to look at Warren through a lens, trying to tell the story of something dangerous and scary happening to him. She didn’t need a camera to see him. His image had already been burned into her brain, like a photo negative.

It stole her breath and she had to gasp in the next one.

“Whoa, Beatrice. You all right? You okay to do this?” Rob was back at her desk, a bag slung over his arm, keys to the Excelsior media van in hand.

“Yes, fine. I’m coming.” She swept up her camera bag from the floor.

There was only light traffic, but it still took nearly half an hour to get to the high school, which was on the other side of the city. By that time she had finally managed to compose herself enough to jump out of the van and immediately start snapping photos of the scene.

It’s too soon to feel this way
, she’d told herself on the way over.
This is temporary. He probably doesn’t think about you at all between Wednesdays. You should never have kissed him.
She’d immediately refuted that one herself, though. Those kisses…more than the intimacy of his climaxes, it was the kisses she’d never want to forget.

And then she found herself photographing a trail from the van to the cluster of police vehicles and fire engines parked in front of the school. The kids had been evacuated. Most of them had already been picked up by caregivers or had left to go home by themselves, but a few stragglers were huddled at the other end of the soccer fields, being supervised and comforted by teachers.

She saw him as soon as she rounded an armored van. Warren in full SWAT gear, his dark hair hidden beneath a helmet, talking to a man in plain clothes. Without even thinking, she stepped forward, meaning to go to him.

“Miss, you’ll have to stay behind the blue barricades.” Another officer stepped forward, one she’d never met before. He was wearing the standard uniform of the Greenbriar Police Department. “No one is allowed past. Not even press.”

She stared at the man, wanting to tell him she wasn’t there to take photos, but the large camera she was holding would make her look like even more of a fool than she already was. A glance to her left revealed that another SWAT officer had joined Warren and the other man.

“Is there—is there really a bomb in there?” she asked, her face drawing tight.

“I can’t say. The team is about to go in to do a sweep. You’ll need to stay back.”

She resisted the urge to call out to Warren. The team was about to go in. That meant
he
was about to enter the building, to risk his life. What if there was really a bomb? What if—

“Beatrice.” He was walking toward her, his usual scowl turning down the corners of his mouth, Kevlar rasping and boots clomping as he came. He looked so severe like this. Nothing like the man whose body she had worshiped last week. And still, her heart did a little squeeze when she heard him say her name.

“Davis. You boys heading in now?” This from the officer that had told Beatrice to stay back.

“Yeah.” Warren nodded to her. “This could be dangerous. I know you’ve got a job to do, but—stay safe, okay? I’ll see you in a few minutes.” And then he turned and walked away, the other SWAT officer falling into step beside him, both of them yanking a mask over their nose and mouth.

She could only gape after him, wanting to tell him not to go, but knowing such a thing would be ridiculous. She watched as he walked across the front drive, under the large patio at the entrance of the high school, and finally disappeared inside. Only then did she bring her camera back up and continue snapping photos, capturing the tense atmosphere along the barricade, so many pairs of eyes focused on the glass doors at the front of the school.

After several long, difficult minutes, a voice came over the receiver strapped to the officer’s shoulder. Warren’s voice. “Main building sweep complete. Nothing found. Heading to the fieldhouse. Over.”

She let out a heavy breath, watching as two figures appeared again at the front door of the school and began rounding the corner, where the fieldhouse sat at an angle behind the main building. It was probably an empty threat, thank God. Some kid pulling a terrible, misguided prank that caused a serious disruption and all this worry in her heart.

But right before they reached the side of the brick building, both Warren and his partner stopped, frozen. The two men turned, throwing up their hands in some strange signal and sprinting back toward the barricade as a whirring sound reached her ears, and the entire row of press and police started scrambling farther back, to take cover behind the line of cars, everyone dropping low in such fluid, well-rehearsed movements it almost seemed choreographed.

Everyone, that was, except for Beatrice. She couldn’t look away from Warren as he came barreling toward her, even as the whirring sound turned into a high-pitched whine and something started rumbling. She kept her gaze trained on him, in fact, until he slammed into her, dropping her to the ground and covering her body with his as the doors of the fieldhouse slammed outward with a loud
boom!

* * * * *

It hadn’t been as serious as it seemed, thank God. There was relatively little debris, and apart from superficial damage in the main hall and façade of the fieldhouse, not as significant an amount destruction as there might have been had the homemade explosive been even a little bit larger.

But that didn’t give him much comfort as Warren thought about how afraid he had been when he’d seen Beatrice standing there, poised as if she were about to hurl herself directly into the danger’s path. He’d never run so fast in his life, not to get away from the explosion, but to get
to
her.

He’d never forget how afraid he’d been then.

And he’d never forget how, as soon as the noise died down, her arms had gone up around his body, her voice had sighed his name and her mouth had pressed against his. He’d had to practically pry her off of him so he could stand up and finish doing his job.

She’d make a terrible officer’s wife.

The thought jarred him, and he paused in the middle of the lawn by the fieldhouse, blinking as though he couldn’t figure out why there were scraps of paper littering the grass and two big hunks of twisted metal lying on the ground on the sidewalk.

He shook it off. It was ridiculous, thinking something like that. He thought a week apart would help him gain perspective, but it was only making him crazier for her. He kept thinking of ways to make more time for her in his life, and then he’d have to immediately remind himself not to forget the way Jen had left him as soon as things got tougher for him. Maybe things were easier now, but if another emergency happened, he wasn’t completely confident that Beatrice would understand. Could he count on her to jump in and help or would she walk away like Jen had?

And if she left…he wouldn’t survive it.

He had to remember that a life like his didn’t have room for a wife, and even less for a wife like Beatrice. He didn’t have time for things like soft kisses and massive orgasms and cherished hugs and kids with big brown eyes and—

“Hey, Davis.” Brewer approached. “Go talk to your woman. She looks scared shitless.”

Warren scowled. “She’s not my woman. I’ve already told you—”

“You
don’t have time
for a relationship,” Brewer finished for him. “Yeah, I heard that bit. And yet you were making out with her in front of the entire fucking department right after a
bomb went off
, Davis. I don’t know what was a bigger surprise—the explosive or you sucking face with Beatrice.” He gave a little snort. “Whatever. Go talk to her before she has a total breakdown.”

Brewer stomped off, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like
stubborn bastard
.

Warren tensed.
What was that supposed to mean?
The barrage of stuff that had just come out of Brewer’s mouth was too much to deal with right now, so he focused on the one thing he actually wanted, turning without another word to head to the edge of the fields, where Beatrice was nearly lying prone, taking photos of the fieldhouse at an angle upward from the ground. He reached her as she was scrambling to her knees, trying to stand up, and an image flashed in his mind—a dirty, hot vision of Beatrice kneeling in front of him, reaching out to open his pants, taking out his dick and licking the length of it while the rest of him remained encased in this sweltering, heavy protective gear.

He was an awful person.

He reached out a hand to help her up the rest of the way. “You need to go home.”

The hurt in her eyes was obvious. Warren scowled. Was she hurt because he hadn’t said hello? Or was it because he was ordering her around? Or—was it possibly because she felt the same way about him as he did about her—that she didn’t want to let him out of her sight?

She
had
kissed him in front of the entire department after a bomb went off, as Brewer pointed out.

And yet, that was exactly why he was trying to send her home. He couldn’t concentrate with her hovering around, and it made him do stupid things like trick himself into believing he could really manage something more than a transactional relationship with her.

She looked down at her feet and it made him feel like the world’s biggest ass. He softened his voice and reached out to rub her shoulder. “You’ve got enough photos by now, right? Even if this makes front page news in every paper in the state, you’ll probably have a hard time choosing the best pictures from what you’ve already got. You could build an entire exhibit from these.” He gave a slight smile. “Besides, I don’t want you to exhaust yourself before tonight.”

Her eyes came up at that, wide and questioning. “You’re still coming?”

She actually sounded hopeful.

“I was considering it. I mean, I might be a little late, since I have to finish up here…” He shrugged, dropping the small smile and trying to look like it didn’t matter either way, but he felt the relief coursing through him when she nodded, then snapped the cover on her lens and slid the camera back in her bag.

“You sure?”

“What, like I’m going to let a little explosion hold me back?”

She smiled at that, and he felt like a hero. “In that case, come whenever you can. I’ll wait for you.”