Wrong then Right (A Love Happens Novel Book 2) (5 page)

“Really?” he said in disbelief, still not moving. “You’re not making that up?” Hot puffs of air caressed her when he spoke and Hope nearly swooned.

“No,” she answered slowly, taken aback. Okay, so he hated her name. She knew it wasn’t the most popular name ever, but most people didn’t have such a strong reaction to it. “Why would I make that u—ooh, my God...”

He licked her. A long, strong, thorough lick with the flat of his tongue that had her crying out loudly and lifting her hips up into his face involuntarily. Holy. Mother. Of God.

Vivid imagination and internet porn be damned, this felt better than any of her fantasies.

She gripped his head, running her hands through his hair as he continued to lavish sinful attention on her, flooding him with moisture when his fingers opened her to a deeper touch. Heat raced across her skin, leaving a lovely flush in its wake, and Hope’s mind raced. Was she being too loud? Or not loud enough? Did he like the tidy strip left behind after her latest bikini wax or did he prefer a completely bare look? Was she too wet? Yeah, she was definitely too wet. Should she reciprocate? She wanted to. Badly. Had the second he’d stood before her in all his naked, chiseled glory.

And then all thought fled, along with a loud, groaning whoosh of air, when he zeroed in on the responsive area surrounding her clit, the firm, repeated pressure of his talented tongue followed by the precise suction of his mouth sending her over the edge. The surprising orgasm radiated out from her center, the pulsing waves of mindblowing pleasure catching her off guard. She might have pulled some of his hair out by the roots. She might have pressed his face into her delighted lady parts and blocked his airway. She might have yelled her carnal gratification so loudly, the neighbors were calling the front desk right now.

She was, however, coherent enough to know that Beckett—or Mr. Beckett?—was a champ at navigating his way around downtown. And it was so worth the wait.

Working his way back up her body, he placed teasing kisses along the hollow of her stomach and the slope of her breast, nipping along her throat as Hope felt the warm weight of his lower body come down over top of her, his biceps bulging nicely as he held himself up. Smoothing a hand along her hairline, he brushed the stray strands away from her face, tenderly kissing her forehead and temple, then her mouth, his rich taste now mixed with her own potent enthusiasm. It felt strangely taboo, but her lax body was still tingling and the throbbing hardness she cradled against her thighs demanded attention, telling Hope they were far from finished. And she was more than happy to oblige.

Dragging her fingers slowly down the notches of his spine and across the taught globes of his fine ass, she slid her hand between their bodies and gripped his long length, squeezing lightly as she pumped her fist. Encouraged by the ragged sound of his breathing, she tightened her hold and worked her palm over the thick head, reveling as he groaned into the hollow of her throat.

She wanted him to talk. Tell her what he liked and didn’t. Show her his preferences. Instead, he allowed her touch for another minute, his intermittent groans and choking curses the only sign that her first ever skin on skin handjob was passing muster.

“Enough,” he finally said, a few choice swear words added in as he reached for the condom and sat back between her open thighs, replacing her hand with his. So hard that his impressive erection brushed his tight navel, Hope watched in fascination as he rolled it on in one smooth motion.

Already wetter than ever, another rush of moisture flooded her as he leaned down to kiss her again, running the tip of his hard length along her seam, nudging her entrance. He was so gorgeous, his skin stretched taut over firm muscle covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and Hope felt a pinch in her chest. An irrational need to know him overcame her. A desire to get inside his head and possibly his heart. And the silly hope mixed with a smidge of guilt had her confessing before she thought better of it.

His hooded eyes connected with hers when she whispered, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh-kay,” he said, dragging the word out. He didn’t believe her.

She reached up, cupping his stubbled cheek, hoping he would understand what she was too embarrassed to spell out for him. “No, really. I’ve never done this before.”

“Do you want to now?” Lifting her left leg, he pushed it back against her chest, opening her thighs wide. He guided the head of his erection through her abundant wetness, his hot gaze focused on where they were nearly connected.

“Yes—” she whispered, and cried out in surprise when a searingly hot pressure split her center, his substantial length filling her before she finished the word.

The intrusion wasn’t exactly painful, but it wasn’t exactly... not. He froze and she felt his accusatory stare before she opened her eyes.

“What the fuck?” Green eyes were spitting fire as he glanced from her face to where their bodies were tightly joined, and back again.

His body rigid with arousal and anger, she felt him shift his hips to pull out. Quickly wrapping her legs around his ass, she hooked her feet together tightly and held him close to her, squeezing her inner muscles as if that might keep him locked inside her. A muffled groan tore through him, but did little to tamp the anger in his expression.

“If you stop now, I swear to God, I’ll punch you right in the face,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, but meaning it with every fiber of her being. “And I tried to tell you.”

“Fuck,” he repeated heatedly, more to himself than her.

“Yes, let’s do that,” she said, lifting her hips into his.

Hope knew he’d misunderstood her earlier admission, believing she meant a one night stand and not that she’d never actually had sex before, yet she’d allowed him to continue anyway. Now he knew it, too. And he wasn’t pleased.

Reaching down, she did the only thing she could think to keep him from bailing, his need to do exactly that written all over his disgruntled face. Running her hand over his defined abs, she felt him suck in a breath as she wrapped her fingers around the base of his erection, only a portion of his substantial length buried inside her. Holy shit, there was more? No wonder he’d known immediately. She stroked him brazenly, spreading her moisture as she did so, before reaching underneath to massage the soft sac, glad she’d listened to Val when he droned on about the importance of ball play. Platonic boyfriends were handy to have around.

Beckett—or Mr. Beckett—dropped his forehead to hers with a reluctant groan, cursing under his breath with conviction. As if he had no control over them, his hips began to move slowly, pulling out and pushing in again, giving her another inch each time until he was fully seated inside her, his flat belly flush against hers. His pumps were measured and deliberate, his searching gaze focused on her, looking for any sign that it was too much.

Honestly, it wasn’t enough.

“Move like you want to,” she whispered, bucking hard against him, the immense feeling of him inside her body unbelievably gratifying. “Don’t hold back.”

He didn’t respond with words, but reared back and hooked his arms under her knees, easing his access and setting up a rapid pace that quickly had her losing her mind. Sweat dripped down his temple, his heated gaze locked on her body as her breasts bounced with each thrust. The delicious fullness within her remained, the burning sensation all but faded, replaced by absolute pleasure as he stroked deeply, firmly. Slowing his motions, he leaned down and kissed her, his tongue dueling with hers as he reached between their bodies, rubbing tight circles across her hot spot. She gasped into his mouth, the sweet stimulation more acute with him filling her to the hilt, her body tightening as the throb intensified.

Shockingly, Hope felt the sharp, pulsing wave of pleasure roll through her again, not nearly as forceful as her earlier orgasm but still utterly breathtaking, her amazed whimpers competing with the heavy sound of his breathing. He slowed his pace only briefly while she rode out her pleasure, his thrusts increasing in power as he pounded into her again and again, his big body tensing as he pushed deep one final time and stilled, letting out a long, low growl as he buried his face in her neck.

Hope kissed his temple, running a soothing hand over his muscled back as their breathing slowed, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. In the aftermath of amazing sex, she felt powerful in her womanhood. Emotional in her exposed vulnerability. And happier than ever.

Smiling, her arms tightened around his waist and she hugged him to her, waiting for him to say something. When he carefully pulled out of her body a minute later, throwing an arm over his eyes as he rolled to his back, confusion set in. If they hadn’t been as close as two people could physically be just seconds ago, Hope might think he was intentionally keeping his distance. And he was still as close-lipped as before.

“Has anyone ever mentioned that you have a limited vocabulary?” Not surprisingly, he didn’t respond. “I think a poodle probably knows more words.”

He let out a half laugh then, but didn’t move an inch. “Not the first time I’ve been compared to a dog.”

The sound of his laugh, even when he half-assed it, could easily charm the panties right off her. If she was still wearing them, that was. Rolling to her side, Hope took him in, looking her fill now that the inaugural deed had been done. She explored his buff body with her eyes, wanting to trace the utter perfection with her hands and mouth, but he moved suddenly, grabbing his clothes from the floor and disappearing into the bathroom without a glance back at her.

Alrighty then. Maybe an encore performance was out of the question.

Wincing at the surprising pinch of soreness when she sat up, Hope realized that might be a good idea. As wonderful as this had felt and no matter how badly she wanted to do it again, he was a man who left a hell of an impression behind. She gingerly picked up her bra and panties, searching for her skirt and tank, wondering how this was going to go down. Would he ask for her phone number and leave? Offer her dinner and drinks, then a ride home? And damn it, she still didn’t know his full name.

The bathroom door opened just as Hope was pulling her shirt over her head, muffling her amused voice. “Hey, are you gonna tell me if Beckett is your first name or your last?”

He never answered her. All she heard was the swoosh of the hotel room door as it opened, followed by a roughly, hesitantly issued, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Hope whispered, but she already knew.

Pulling the shirt into place, she turned just as the door clicked shut behind him.

CHAPTER FOUR

Stunned, Hope stared at the closed door for several seconds, waiting for the knob to turn again. For him to walk back in, wearing a look of remorse. Or at the very least, carrying a bucket of ice. There had to be an explanation behind his hasty exit. A reason why he would hightail it without so much as a thank you. Without asking for her phone number. Or her last name.

Maybe he’d received an emergency text that required his immediate attention, like to perform an unexpected, lifesaving heart transplant on a child. Or fight a raging, four alarm fire currently engulfing a no-kill animal shelter. Or maybe he had a standing appointment to feed the poor and hungry at a local soup kitchen, promptly at midnight.

Maybe he really was married. Or maybe she was just a lousy lay.

Hope stood in the middle of the suite, skirt still in hand, trying to digest what had just happened. She’d allowed a stranger, and no matter how hot, he was still a total stranger, to go where no man had gone before. And not five minutes afterward, he’d bailed on her, reducing the most amazing sexual experience she would likely ever have into a bone and bounce. A hit and quit. A one night delight.

And far worse than making her feel cheap, it made her feel something she’d feared for most of her life. It made her feel like her mother.

Determined not to go all lunatic bitch and trash a hotel room charged to his credit card or chase him down and make a scene, even though she really wanted to do both, Hope quickly slid her skirt on, needing to escape the scene of the crime.

Just as she reached for her purse, a sharp pounding on the door made her jump.

“Hope? Open up.” More pounding rattled the door in its frame. “Now.”

“Oh, shit,” she whispered, her gaze darting around the room in a panic, as if the evidence of her indiscretion could be quickly disguised. “Shit, shit, shit!”

Looking toward the balcony, she weighed her options. A thirty foot drop onto a cement paver patio might break her femur in half, but it was preferable to facing what stood on the other side of that door. A door that was now opening far too easily.

“Hope? Who else is in here?” Asher questioned, striding into the room like he’d actually been invited. His voice wasn’t loud. It was cool and commanding, which wasn’t much different than his normal tone. Checking the bathroom before turning back to her, he propped his hands on his hips. “Who was it?”

Hysterical laughter nearly overcame her. She wanted an answer to that question as much as he did. Problem was, Ash was the one holding all the information on the elusive Beckett—or Mr. Beckett—and not her. They were buddies, after all. But hell would freeze over before she disclosed what had happened in this room or pimp him for details on the infuriating Mr. Man Candy. She refused to track down a man who could walk away without a backward glance. Her self-esteem couldn’t take the hit.

“This is none of your business, Ash. What are you even doing here?” And weren’t hotel room doors supposed to lock automatically? For five hundred large a night, one would think this place might have more than crackerjack security features.

His blue eyes bored into her and she tried not to fidget. “Where is he, Hope?”

Shaking her head, she grabbed her handbag and turned to leave, not needing her brother’s boorish attitude tonight, but stopped when she looked at the door. Standing there was a woman, her natural beauty overshadowed by a thick layer of make-up and a spandex dress, chomping on a huge wad of purple gum. That exit blocked, Hope looked toward the balcony once again.