Inside the Lines: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel (18 page)

He trails kisses over my jaw. “Ye can, love, just relax into it.”

When he settles between my thighs, I’m already quaking, on the brink of climax. He pauses, not touching me for a minute.

I nudge my hips towards him. I want to feel his mouth on me. To be completely unable to do anything but react to the waves of pleasure that are gathering. To think of nothing more than my own bliss.

He offers me no response for long beats. Then I feel his breath blow over me. “What do ye want, Lux Trace?”

Oh God. He’s going to make me ask. He teases me with a finger, briefly, and then…nothing. Dammit.

“What do ye want, love?”

I grit my teeth, wishing I could refuse, but I’m so desperate for his touch, I can’t hold out. “I want you to touch me.” I force out the next word. “Please.”

“Is that all?”

God damn him. “I want you to make me come. Please.”

I don’t need to be able to see him to know he’s got that crooked smile on his face right at this moment.

His tongue makes delicious designs on my hypersensitive folds, and when his fingers slip back inside me, I lose the ability to care. With whimpers and moans I barely recognize as my own, I teeter on the edge, only to fall off the cliff and into pure sensation. Fin doesn’t let up, and I’m unable to do anything else but hang on as the waves crash over me.

My head lies on his shoulder as he rubs feeling back into my hands.

“My throat’s sore,” I say.

“Aye, and no wonder. I’m pretty sure the neighbors could hear your lusty cries.”

Free of the blindfold, I glance up at him, catching his smug smile, then snuggle back into him. “That’s all your fault.”

His chest rumbles beneath my cheek as he chuckles.

Silence thickens the air before I speak again. “Why didn’t you fuck me?”

He shifts so I’m on my back, his arm coming around me to cup my ass and press me into him. “I was going to. But I changed my mind. Much as I loved seeing ye helpless and naked, I’d rather have ye powerful and commanding me as is yer wont, riding my cock before the night is over.”

I blow out a breath and close my eyes. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’m exhausted.” My legs feel like overcooked noodles.

He smiles, then brushes his lips against mine. “I’ll do all the work.”

I pop open one eye. “You’d be having your way with an unconscious woman.”

He looks mildly offended. “That sounds unappealing.” He’s appraising me closely when I drop my eyelid back down.

When he gives up and lies on his back, I can’t ignore him any longer. “Where’s your fight, man? You aren’t letting me off the hook that easily, are you?”

“Ye said ye’re exhausted. What kind of man am I if I push you?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re the one in charge tonight, remember? I am at your command.” I raise an eyebrow in challenge.

He gazes at me for a long moment, before a grin curves his lips. “Aye, then, woman. Get on my cock.”

I’m pretty sure I don’t move all night. When Fin spoons me sometime after sunrise, I barely register him until his cock enters me from behind. I’m sore from an extended session of fucking wherein I came at least three more times, bringing yesterday evening’s orgasm total to six…maybe seven? Despite the discomfort, his oh-so-knowing hands arouse me, and before I’ve even opened my eyes, I’m coming yet again.

“I’m pretty sure this has set an all-time record for me where orgasms are concerned,” I tell him afterwards. I’m snuggled into his chest as he lies on his side, propped up and gazing down at me.

He smiles. “The least I could do, for letting me have my way with ye.” His finger traces my hairline, then down my nose to my lips. “I have to tell ye something.”

My stomach flips over on itself. “That sounds ominous.”

His face turns serious. “Aye, well, I’m not particularly happy about it, no.” He pauses, then continues. “I’m going away for a few weeks. John has a few out of state clients; he’d like me to go along.”

I stare at his chest, if only to avoid showing him how much this affects me. I take a deep breath. “Sounds like a great opportunity. How long will you be away?”

His hand slides over my arm, resting on my shoulder. “He canna say—several weeks at least.”

I nod. “It sounds like a great opportunity for you. And he trusts you enough to let you join him.”

“Aye, it is. I’m glad for it. But I’ll miss ye.” His finger follows a light path over my collarbone.

“You’ll have to send me a postcard.” I put on a good show of being unaffected, but inside, my heart aches at the thought.

When he leaves later that morning, his kiss has a sense of urgency to it, of parting, but I paste a smile on my face, go through the motions of being fine with everything.

“I’ll call ye once we’ve arrived—we’re dropping a horse off on the way, so it’s likely to be a few days.”

“That’s fine.”

He doesn’t seem to know how to leave or how to handle my lack of response. I want to make it easier on him, tell him I’ll miss him. But the words don’t come, and he’s long gone by the time the first tear falls.

Chapter 21

Burning

Time drifts by slowly when all you want is for it to fly. It’s more than twenty-four hours since I’ve heard from Fin, and I’m a mess. And not because I miss him. Okay, that’s a lie. It’s part of it. I’ve never needed anyone, and I’m not about to let that change, dammit. Even though I find myself checking my phone every few minutes, waiting on a text message that doesn’t come.
He’s working,
I tell myself.
He’s probably driving right now.
The conflict raging inside plunges me even deeper into shadows. What the hell has happened to me? When did I become a woman who waited around like a lovesick teenager? The idea of not seeing him for an indeterminate amount of time leaves me bereft and cranky.

Just as irksome: when did I turn into someone who
liked
getting tied up? I set the scene. I do the restraining. I sure as hell don’t get turned on by some guy acting all alpha male on me and making me beg for an orgasm.

Yet that’s exactly what happened. And more than that, I catch myself wondering what it would be like if it happened again.

I feel like a fraud. What kind of Dom am I? How the hell did this happen?

How do I fix it?

“Hey, Lulu, your phone just went off.”

I glance up from my computer. “What? Oh. Just leave it.”

Noah’s in the kitchen making lunch, and his footsteps announce his return. “You sure? It’s from Fin. Sounds like he’s pretty worried.”

The modern smartphone has destroyed all semblance of privacy. I snatch the phone from him, unlocking and relocking it to erase the message from the lock screen. But I can’t avoid seeing it.

Lux, I don’t know what’s wrong. Can you at least let me know that you’re okay?

Noah watches me closely, but when I don’t look up at him, he takes the hint. A few minutes later, he tucks a grilled cheese panini with pesto tortellini and sautéed mushrooms—a favorite dish of mine from one of our local delis—by my elbow. “Wow. This looks amazing.” And it smells even better.

I’m sitting at Ella’s desk, using the brand new MacBook she and Noah talked me into buying—a business expense, they called it. Whatever it is, I’m enjoying it immensely, though I’m supposed to be working on research for Kinked’s marketing plan.

“So what’s the deal?”

Noah’s penetrating gaze won’t give me any peace, so I give in and turn to look at him. “What’s what deal?”

He narrows his eyes at me.

I flick a glance at the ceiling with a long sigh. “There’s no deal. Fin’s out of town.”

“And he’s worried because you’re not responding to his texts.” He waits a beat. When I don’t say anything, he prods. “Why?”

I’ve conveniently shoved very hot cheese and bread in my mouth, so it gives me plenty of time to avoid answering. Soon, I’m out of stall tactics. “Because I just haven’t. I’m not…cut out for this.”

His brows draw together. “You said you loved him.”

If I hadn’t felt adequately awful, I do now. “I know. I do. But this isn’t…I don’t know how to deal with this. People going away, missing them, feeling a bit adrift…” I lift a shoulder. “I’ll talk to him about it when he gets back.”

His concerned look turns to irritation. “And women say men suck at communication. The guy is worried about you, Lux. You should at least tell him you’re okay. Please don’t tell me he’s tried to call you and you haven’t answered.”

I stare down guiltily at my plate, all appetite vanishing in the wake of my shame.

“Jesus. What the hell is wrong with you?” His voice escalates. “You’ve got some guy on the hook, believing that he’s met the love of his life, and you treat him like this? How is this love?”

“How is this any of your business? Who made you the keeper of all appropriate behavior in relationships?” I shove back from the desk, slapping my laptop shut. “What I do or don’t do is my affair.” I grab my laptop and head for the stairs.

“Lux, this isn’t like you. You don’t fuck people over.”

I spin around just as he’s joining me in the hallway. “I am not fucking anyone over. I get that this isn’t on your approved romantic decisions list. And I’m not saying I’m doing the right thing here. But it’s not up to you to judge me or what I do. It’s my choice, not yours. And given some of your own questionable indiscretions over the years, you are the
last
person I would expect to get high and mighty.”

“
I
am not telling people I love them and then turning a cold shoulder the minute they’re out of view. I don’t lead anyone on with suggestions that there could be a future with me.” He takes a step towards me, his voice intense and angry, and even though I’m furious, I can also hear the hurt beneath it. “You have this guy by the balls, and all you’re doing is squeezing harder. To what end? Do you want to destroy what could be a really good thing for you?”

“If I do, or if I don’t, it’s my business. Being roommates doesn’t qualify you to be my judge or make comments on my personal life.”

“You’re right—it doesn’t. Being your friend
does
. And you are fucking this up.”

I glare at him. “Stay out of my personal business, Noah. I don’t comment on your romantic exploits. Leave mine alone.” I stomp up the stairs and slam my bedroom door.