Page 81 of Nothing to No One

Maybe there was reluctance there, but it wasn’t because he didn’t want this.

“No more teasing,” she gasped in a panted whisper. “Have me.”

Forcing her shoulders against the wall, she crushed her breasts against him and tipped her chin as high as it would go. He had to know what he did to her; that she wasn’t ashamed or uncertain of them. Although her eyes were closed when his hands ran down her body and squeezed her breasts, she felt every aching nuance of his admiration.

“Yes,” she repeated her urgency when his fingers drifted down the midline of her stomach to insinuate themselves into her panties. “Yes.”

Kicking her heels on to whatever was beneath, she raised her hips to move with him as he slid a finger inside. Her slickness held no secret, no doubt or reluctance. She wanted him.

Under the pressure of the clock, his fingers disappeared and hesitation vanished. They didn’t have the luxury of basking too long in foreplay. That message wasn’t lost on him either. He wasn’t withdrawing to leave, he was—he plunged into her. All the way. Deeper than expected. He hit hard and she grabbed for stability in him, allowing her body to absorb its new playmate. The electric shock of sheer satisfaction zinged and tensed at the same time.

Mmm, nothing could’ve prepared her. This wasn’t a joining of bodies like any other. Digging her nails deep into histrapezius, she rose, eyes closing, moving with and against him, widening her legs, squeezing him tight within.

“Struan,” she whispered his name, aching with the whine of want compressing her chest.

How could she have existed without this? Now he was inside her, she wouldn’t breathe without him. Friction came with speed, with heat, with a tension that pulled at her jaw. She dropped as her hands climbed higher to the back of his neck.

“God,” she gasped. “Baby…” Her long whine switched to a pant of vowels that somehow built to the crescendo of orgasm in a powerful wail. “Struan!”

Her being snatched his so tight it provoked his growl as he smacked a fist on the wall, absorbing his own release.

Surrounded by the bass from beyond and the fog of their love, she relaxed her fingers, skimming them up into his hair to hold herself closer.

Still it wasn’t enough. When he came lower to give her more, he slid from her body. Damn, and she’d been ready to keep him there forever.

“It shouldn’t have been like that,” he grumbled against her in an exhale. “Shit, baby, I’m—”

“It was perfect,” she said, laying a hand on his cheek to ease him back and find his eyes. “Our start wasn’t conventional. It’s right our first time wasn’t either.”

In other circumstances, with more liquor and less restraint, they’d have closed the deal in that basement the night they met.

“It’s hard to believe you’re real,” he said, driving his fingers into her hair by her ear. “You deserve the whole world, you know that?”

As long as he was the one to give it to her, she’d take it, and fight to give back more.

“That mean you’ll sneak me into your bed tonight?”

“No.” Disappointment was instant, though he greeted her with a grin. “Is there space in yours? Tomorrow’s Sunday. No work until Monday. Tomorrow’s Halloween, I guarantee Roxie and her crew will go out.”

They’d be alone. In a safe place. Whether Roxie remained concerned about her safety at Roman’s, her friend’s worry wouldn’t extend to Struan. And no one explicitly said she couldn’t have friends stay over.

“For you, and only you, always.”

Always wasn’t long enough. They’d found each other by accident and couldn’t lose each other. She wouldn’t survive it. Any world that existed without him wasn’t one she wanted to live in. Except that decision may be made for them.

TWENTY-EIGHT

“DID WE EVER find out who it was?” she asked, lost in a haze of half-sleep, fending off encroaching slumber to luxuriate in every moment alone with Struan.

Roxie hadn’t batted an eye when he joined them on the ride back from the club the previous night. She appreciated her friend not making a big deal of it, for his sake. She, on the other hand, was so excited to spend a night with Struan, she’d have crowed about it, to the highest limit of her friend’s patience, if asked.

When they weren’t making love, his heavy hand spent most of its time on her hair. She liked it there. With her head on his chest, and the shadows all around them, they were the only two people in the world.

During the day, others moved around beyond her bedroom avoiding their den of sin. No one had bothered them. Since their friends absconded to the Crimson Halloween party, the house had been blessedly silent. Struan left the bedroom for sustenance at one point before sunset, but all she needed was him. Work would steal them both in the morning, they had to make the most of these precious moments.

“Who it was?”

“Who leaked the tape?” she asked. “Magnus said he’d investigate then I never heard about it again.”

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