IOU Sex (3 page)

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

When I came out of the bathroom, he was standing in the oversized archway of his bedroom, a shoulder propped against the frame. I’d run to the restroom in his master suite because it was the only one I’d ever used. I had no idea where the guest bath was.

My stomach, now empty, wasn’t twisted in knots anymore. I’d used a spare toothbrush accumulated from his dentist visits because he used an electric version instead. I’d also swished some mouthwash to make me feel better.

He said, “You’re not going tomorrow.”

I gave a half laugh, half snort. “I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t go.”

“I don’t care. And you shouldn’t either.”

“It’s not that simple,” I said.

“Of course not. But still…don’t go.”

I sighed. “It’s not just about doing what my family expects or wants me to do.” I crossed the hardwood floor to his king-size bed and sat on the corner of it. “I have something to prove.”

“No, you don’t.” He moved away from the archway and sat beside me. “You got screwed by your sister and Seth. Neither were the least bit contrite or apologetic about it. And your parents overlooked the slight because of how desperately they want to merge two powerful families.”

“How do you know all of this?” I asked, because he was dead-on.

“I spent several afternoons with them when we were together, remember? Doesn’t take a genius to see that your family doesn’t care who marries Seth Corbett as long as it’s someone bearing the Carlisle name.”

I let out a huffy breath because he was absolutely right. It infuriated me and embarrassed me that I was so gullible, so malleable. “My parents arranged the meeting between us. Encouraged us to date. Were thrilled to pieces when we moved in together—into the apartment they bought for us, no less. Our mothers pushed for an engagement. Meanwhile…Lizzie was having trouble at Boston University, not living up to the Carlisle name or reputation.”

“Marrying Seth changes all of that,” he pointed out. “Plus, it helps her get back at you for being the smarter, prettier sister.”

“I don’t subscribe to that,” I admitted. “Life isn’t about being smarter or prettier than someone else. Or taking away what they have in order to make you feel special.”

He grinned at me. “That’s why I like you so much. You’re just you.”

I eyed him for a moment then said, “But you’re trying to make me something I’m not.”

“No,” he was quick to reply. “I’m not trying to make you anything. I’m just trying to get you to own up to your feelings. Accept them.”

“Not when they have the potential to be detrimental to me,” I told him. “You of all people know I can never again go through what I experienced with Seth.”

He frowned. “You’re essentially lumping me onto the same shit pile as him.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

He challenged me with a stern look.

I smiled, busted yet again. “Okay, yes.” I took his hand in mine and gave it a quick squeeze as a nonverbal mea culpa. “I lump all men onto the shit pile these days. But…I know you’re different. I’m not trying to make you feel like a heel. I’m just trying to spare myself more heartache. Can you understand that?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

We were both silent for a few moments. I was surprised by how much we’d both owned up to tonight, but it felt good to talk about all the messiness in my life and the peculiarities of our friendship.

He lifted my hand to his warm lips and kissed it. A very sweet and oh-so-Michael-like gesture. “I get the reason why you plan to go to the party tomorrow. I don’t agree with it because I think you’re setting yourself up for more bullshit from your family. But I do get it.”

I smiled again. “That’s because you get me.”

“Yeah, I do. So I’ll go with you.” He rested our entwined hands in his lap. “You and I will go for the fun of it. The booze, the food, the dancing. We’ll have a great time, and it’ll drive your family insane to see us enjoying ourselves while they all bicker about who’s more successful and who works harder. We’ll have a blast. To hell with them.”

I felt the waterworks start again because he truly was a very special person and I adored him more than words could ever express, despite my overwhelming paranoia of being swallowed up by my attraction to him. I’d had enough of the tears for one night, though, so I pushed them back. “You really are the best.”

He grinned that cocky grin that made my heart flutter. “You’re gonna owe me, yanno?”

I laughed. “That’s why I brought the Scotch.”

“Oh, no.” A playful glint lit his blue eyes. “That’s not going to cut it this time. I’m going into the lion’s den with you, babe. Tomorrow is a date. I want you to treat it like one.”

I stared at him for a moment because I could practically see the wheels churning in his head. “And?”

“And,” he added with a grin, “I want it to last the entire weekend. Starting tonight.”

He continued to stun me. My emotions were running high this evening. Yet this was one man who knew how to keep up with them…and push the limits with me.

“Does this date include I.O.U. sex?” I had to ask.

“As a matter of fact…” He winked.

My insides heated up all over again. He had that effect on me. Perhaps, subconsciously, I’d known going into this that we’d end up sleeping together. It was time to admit that was exactly what I wanted. Maybe even more than the favor.

Teasing him, I said, “Damn, it’s too late to take back the Scotch. You already opened the bottle.”

“I deserve a bonus for having to deal with your hard head.”

“I’m not intentionally trying to be difficult. Just…sensible. Realistic.”

“Try being romantic.” With that, he leaned over and kissed me again. A much softer, more leisurely kiss. Likely because he no longer needed to prove to me we were hot for each other.

I didn’t run away this time. Rather, I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him guide me down onto the bed. His weight on me felt heavenly, something I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed until this very moment. His fingers went to work on the buttons of my blouse, and I didn’t dare stop him. I banished all insecurities and doubts to the far recesses of my mind. I wouldn’t ruin this by obsessing over what it meant or how long it would last. At the moment, those things didn’t matter. How Michael made me feel did.

His hand cupped my breast and gave it a gentle squeeze, causing me to squirm on the bed. Then he whisked aside the lacy cups of my bra and caught one hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and pinching it. Anticipation welled within me as his slightly calloused hands swept over my bare skin. Those hours he spent on his motorcycle left his palms with a rugged edge that excited me as he caressed my breasts and rubbed his thumb across my nipple.

In a heartbeat, I was breathless and tingly from head to toe. I tore my mouth from his and gasped for air as electric sensations shot through me.

“Good Lord.” I barely managed to get the words out before his head dipped and he took the other taut peak in his mouth, sucking on it. A moan slipped from my lips.

His hair smelled like the pomegranate shampoo he used, and his own low groan of desire heightened my arousal. He released my aching nipples and shifted on the bed.

“No, no,” I protested, not ready to move on from the sexual bliss he’d ignited. But he gave me a lascivious look that assured me there was bigger and better foreplay right around the corner. He gripped my hips and with one quick movement, flipped me onto my stomach.

I laughed as I stared at him over my shoulder. “Don’t do anything too kinky back there.”

“If only you knew the thoughts rattling around inside my head.”

“I have a few good ideas.” He’d fucked me before, after all. Many, many times.

He quickly slid the zipper of my skirt down the track and divested me of that item of clothing. Then he removed my shirt and unhooked my bra. The material slid down my arms and he tossed it aside.

I glanced over my shoulder again and found him staring at my ass. His jaw was clenched tight as though he were considering where to start. Then his hands cupped my bare cheeks with a firm grip.

“Nice panties,” he said of the black lace thong that matched my bra.

He let go of my cheeks and hooked his fingers in the sides of my skimpy lingerie before dragging them slowly down my legs. Once my thong was discarded, his hands splayed over the backs of my thighs, moving slowly upward, the thumbs caressing the inner portions. My flesh quivered, and my stomach tumbled in a way I hadn’t felt since the last time I was with Michael. His skin was warm against mine. Again, not exactly smooth, but definitely manly, creating a hint of friction that made my pussy throb.

I continued to stare at him over my shoulder as his hands inched higher. The way he looked at me stole my breath. He devoured me with eyes that had turned a deep shade of blue and which seemed incapable of looking away from me.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he said in a strained voice.

I was surprised I could find my own. “There you go again with the flirting.”

“Told you I can’t help it. Not when it comes to you.”

I really had no idea what had gotten into him tonight. Nor did I want to question his actions, motives or words at this point. Admittedly, it felt wonderful to be wanted again. To be desired by such a talented, successful and ultrahot man. One I thought so highly of, no less. It was exactly what I needed this evening, even if I hadn’t realized it at first.

When he reached my butt again, one hand slid over a cheek. The other slid between my parted legs. His fingers grazed my slick folds, massaging and teasing.

Not only did I love the way he touched me, but the look on his face made all my earlier insecurities fall by the wayside. He stared at me as though he’d never seen anything quite like me. I also saw determination in his blue irises that told me he intended to make me come over and over and over.

My pussy clenched at the thought. I knew how skilled he was, and that made the fire roar through my body. I was ridiculously hot. Likely wetter than ever.

His fingers brushed my clit, jolting me to the core of my being. My hips lifted, pushing my ass a little higher in the air. And giving him better access to me.

“You can’t imagine how long I’ve waited to do this to you again,” he said.

“You can’t imagine how hard it’s been not to beg you to do this to me again.”

He frowned. “You never have to beg with me.”

I couldn’t help but smile. He’d always been ready and willing to please.

As the pads of two fingers went to work on my clit, my own fingers curled around the soft, pewter-gray comforter. He rubbed the sensitive knot quickly, with just the right amount of pressure. My pulse kicked up several notches. My breathing picked up as well.

I dropped my head to the mattress and closed my eyes. All the sensations he so easily evoked sprang to life, whirling around inside me like a cyclone.

The hand on my ass moved to the bed, and he planted an elbow and forearm alongside my hip. He leaned over me, his lips grazing my shoulder as he pushed a finger deep into my cunt, making me cry out from the pleasure that tore through me.

“That’s it,” he whispered in my ear in his sexy voice. “Take what you want.”

My inner walls contracted around his finger, holding it tight as he stroked me a little faster, a little harder. He knew how I liked it.

I arched my back and lifted my ass higher. He worked a second finger into my pussy. “So tight and wet,” he murmured as he continued to kiss my shoulder and then my neck.

I wished he were naked so I could feel his body against mine, but I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing in order to strip down. I was so close to a much-needed orgasm. It was within my grasp, and I didn’t want to lose it.

He shifted again, going up on his knees. His free hand slid between me and the mattress, skimming over my belly and down to the apex of my legs. He rubbed my clit again as he finger-fucked me, pushing me right to the glorious edge.

“Yes,” I moaned. “Oh, God, yes.”

“Come for me, Fiona,” he said. “Come all over my fingers.”

I squeezed the fists full of material I still clutched. Everything inside of me was tight and tingly. His fingers on my clit and inside me felt just right. Exactly what I needed.

“Do it,” he urged. “I want to hear you call out my name when you come.”

His strokes became a bit more forceful. He was determined to get me off in record time, it seemed. He did a damn good job of it. My breath came in heavy pulls and my body felt ultrasensitive from head to toe. Inside and out.

“Oh,” I said on a sharp breath. “Just a little more.”

He quickened the pace. My undoing.

“Michael!” I yelled out as a powerful orgasm exploded deep within me.

The collision of all those scorching-hot sensations felt like someone had lit a sparkler inside me. My pussy clenched his fingers, milking them as I savored every single spark.

“Jesus,” he said when I finally released him. My climax ebbed. He let out a low groan, then added, “You make me so fucking hot.”

I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder again. “I think that’s the other way around.”

His grin was a sexy one. “Getting you off turns me on.”

He withdrew his fingers and rolled me onto my back. He positioned himself between my legs and dipped his head to my pussy lips.

I moaned. His mouth hadn’t yet connected with my skin, but the anticipation made exhilaration race through me. I knew how good he was at going down on me. How on earth I had denied myself for so long was beyond me.

When his tongue swiped over my folds, my hips jerked. A strange little squeak seeped out from my parted lips before I sighed happily. He chuckled, his warm breath blowing against my wet flesh. Then he got serious. His fingers parted my labia and the tip of his tongue flicked over my clit, keeping my pussy throbbing from my recent orgasm. The quick flickering of his tongue was like butterfly wings fluttering against the sensitive bundle of nerves. My breath caught, and I curled my fingers around strands of his hair.

“You are so good at that,” I told him. He’d been the first man to ever make love to me this way. It’d always seemed too intimate, too naughty. He’d assured me I’d enjoy it so I’d let him have his way with me. Boy, had he been right.