Bend - Bromberg K. (читать книги онлайн бесплатно серию книг txt) 📗

“So take me.” The voice coming out of my chest is not my own. It is of a confident woman who admits what she wants, takes what she needs.

He drops his hand, stares at me. “You don’t mean that. You’d regret it in the morning. And I don’t do one-night stands.”

“Meaning?” I stay against the wall. He can come to me if he wants something. I don’t know if, at this point in time, my legs have the capacity to move anyway.

He does come. Is in front of me in three strides, his hands on either side of my head, flat against the wall, his eyes intense, inches from mine. I smell the faint scent of whiskey on his breath. I notice the angle of his body, his hips too far away when all I want is them pressed against me. Is he still hard? ’Cause I am still wet. Desperately so. “Meaning,” he growls, “that if I have you, you will be mine. You will not return to life as you know it. You will not flirt with men around the water cooler at work. You will bend for me, spread for me, allow me to have every inch of your surface, all while screaming my name and shuddering into my heart. That is what I mean.”

Holy shit. I try to breathe normally. Try to stop my pulse from jumping through my skin. Try to speak in a way that doesn’t cause my voice to shake. “We don’t have water coolers.”

He smiles, and the change pulls me off of whatever ledge I am gripping onto. Oh my word. White, perfect teeth. A goddamn mischievous twinkle in his eyes. I can’t figure out if I like his intense side or smiling side more, but I try and hold on to this look for as long as I can. “And the rest?”

“I don’t think that’s a decision I can make without having your cock first.”

He tilts his head. “Worried I will disappoint?”

Hell to the no. “Girl’s gotta be safe.” I release my own smile, one with much less potency, but the best card I have in this the situation.

His face darkens, the grin disappearing as intensity steals back over. “I’m not joking, Riley. About having you.”

I watch his eyes, the shudder in them as they look from my lips to my eyes to the door. All minute twitches of his pupils, his head unmoving, his entire body so still it may be made of steel. Controlled intensity. I don’t doubt his words. I also know that there is no way I can anything say but yes to this man. My body won’t allow any other response. “Then take me.”

Confirmation in the set of his face, the fire that comes to his eyes, the forward press of his pelvis as he gathers me back, pulling me tightly, his mouth coming back down to claim me. Yes, he is still hard. I smile against his mouth.

Chapter 5

The driver’s name is Leo. White Escalade with custom rims, tinted windows. I step into the backseat, Brett’s head following me inside, his long legs cramped in the backseat. I clutch my purse, smile at Leo as he shuts the door. I had parted with the girls, their protective nature insisting on a face to face with Brett before letting me disappear into the night. Jena had taken it one step further, getting his business card and verifying his cell. He smiled through it all, relaxed and at ease, the intensity of our alley romp gone as he shook hands, oh my god, those fingers were in me, remembered names, and stole all of their hearts.

The SUV moves, rocking over cobblestone steps that pirates once roamed, the movement of the car tossing me slightly. Brett’s hand finds me in the darkness.

“Sorry about the interrogation in there.”

“I’m not. They’re watching out for you. It’s the smart thing to do.”

I bite the edge of my smile. “You say that. Jena Crawford has your number. You might regret that in the wee hours of the morning. I think her second major was drunk dialing.”

He brings my hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “I can handle it.”

I glance to the front. To the Bahamian man less than five feet away. “What you said in the alley, about what this will mean …”

“Yes.”

I shrug. “I just want you to know that I’m a big girl. I’m not gonna attach anything to this. If it doesn’t turn out to be anything.”

He looks out the window. Tugs at the front of his dress pants, adjusting himself, he says, “I may have spoken out of turn. I’m not used to this.”

I lower my voice. “We can have sex. Without it meaning anything.”

“I’m not seventeen, Riley. I’m familiar with the concept.”

I shut my mouth. Do my own turn of looking out the window, trying to decide if I should bail on this man when we hit the hotel lobby. It is easier when I look out the window. When I don’t see the line of his jaw and imagine how it tastes. When I don’t look in those eyes and fall further into trouble. Then he moves my hand, from the armrest where he had held it, to his lap. Pushes my palm flat against him, and I lose a bit of my breath. Wow.

His hand atop mine, he drags my palm—my exploring, inquisitive fingers—from his belt buckle to his leg, letting me feel exactly how much, how hard, he wants me. I dart my eyes, trying to see more, but the dark cab shows me nothing but the glow of his eyes. Watching me, his mouth hidden by shadow. Those eyes closing briefly when I grip him through the fabric. “More,” he breathes.

I fumble with the zipper, my own hand struggling, his hand moving to help, holding the fabric tightly as I drag down the metal tag, holding my breath, hoping the driver’s music will drown out the sound, the man’s head not moving, not turning, when the action ends, my hand stealing in and coming in immediate contact with bare cock.

A moment when my body relaxes as my fingers wrap around it, as if I am finally at piece in a place where I belong and everything else can subside. I am touching it. The thought is a shot of arousal to my body. I move my hand, explore. My first thought, when I wrap my hands around it, the observation that my thumb and index finger don’t meet. That his fingers that had satisfied me so easily in that alley—won’t hold a candle to this organ. I squirm a bit in my seat. Grip him with my full hand and am rewarded with an exhale of breath.

A squeal of brakes. I look up and realize we are stopping. At a toll booth, Leo leans out the window, the street lights of the toll plaza casting in full light, my hand on Brett’s ohmygodthatisgorgeous cock. He leans forward quickly, pushing my hand gently to the side, and my ears hear the faint sound of a zipper closing.

“Royal Towers.” He puts his hands on the front headrests, resting his weight on them as he speaks to the driver, and I fight the urge to run my hand over the line of his back. It’s been so long since I touched a man in a loving way. So long since I was in a role other than that of professional friend—sweet ol’ Riley.

I don’t touch his back. I sit, my hands between my knees, the heat of my fingers remembering the lines of his cock. The ridge between his shaft and his head. How it moved slightly in my hand when I grabbed it. The warmth of his skin.

Then the truck stops, a burst of air brushes over my bare legs, and I accept Leo’s hand and exit the vehicle.

“Thank you.” Brett’s hand is on my arm, taking over from Leo, firm pressure in his touch as he guides me toward the entrance, his steps quick, my heels almost struggling to keep up. I tug on his hand, and his head turns, notes my agitation and he slows his gait. “I’m sorry.” He loops an arm around my shoulders, presses a kiss on the top of my head. “Do you want to grab a drink at the bar?”

Do I want to grab a drink at the bar? I don’t think I can handle the wait to walk down the hotel hallway, much less sit out the agonizing process of ordering, sipping, then paying for an unneeded drink. I shake my head. “No. I’m good.”

He holds the door, our eyes catching for a moment as I pass through. Just that catch, that brief hold of two stares … it relights the fire that didn’t need any additional fuel. I don’t know why I’m going to fuck this man. There is no sense or reason in the decision. But there is need. There is need, and there will be satisfaction. I don’t know what is about to happen, but I know it will be different than anything I have ever had. Anyone I have ever fucked. I feel like I did when I was a virgin. Nervous. Apprehensive. Excited. The hand on my back guides me to an unfamiliar elevator, and I wait as he presses the button.