Page 36 of A Game of Deception
“And now?”
Her eyes met mine, dark and fathomless. “Now I’m here.”
I closed the remaining distance between us, capturing her mouth with mine. This kiss differed from the one at the club—slower, deeper, more deliberate. Her lips parted beneath mine, her tongue sliding against my own in a dance that made my blood sing.
Her hands were everywhere—in my hair, on my chest, trailing fire down my back. I pressed her against me, feeling the heat ofher body through the thin fabric of her dress. She made a soft, needy sound in the back of her throat that nearly undid me.
I backed her toward the wall, pinning her there with my body. Her head fell back as I trailed kisses down her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, feeling her pulse race beneath my lips.
“Enough kissing,” she gasped, her voice rough with desire. Her hands moved to my waistband, tugging at the drawstring of my sweatpants. “Let’s fuck.”
Her words sent a jolt of heat straight to my groin. I pulled back slightly, searching her face. Her eyes were dark with need, her lips swollen from my kisses. But there was something else there too—a desperation, an urgency that went beyond mere physical desire.
“Tara—”
“Don’t,” she cut me off, her fingers digging into my shoulders. “Don’t overthink this. Don’t make it more than it is.”
Her hands were sliding down my chest, dipping below my waistband, wrapping around me with confident precision. And suddenly, thinking was the last thing on my mind.
I hoisted her up, her legs wrapping around my waist, and carried her to my bedroom. We fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, my hands already working the zipper of her dress. She arched her back, helping me slide the fabric down her body, revealing inches of smooth skin that I immediately covered with my mouth.
Her underwear was black lace, a stark contrast against her pale skin. I hooked my fingers into the waistband, looking up at herfor permission. She nodded, lifting her hips to help me remove them.
And then she was naked beneath me, all soft curves and sharp angles, more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen. I took a moment just to look at her, to commit this image to memory—Tara Swanson, splayed across my sheets, her hair a dark halo around her face, her eyes heavy with desire.
“Stop staring,” she said, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her voice.
I shook my head, lowering myself to kiss her again. “Not a chance. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
A flush spread across her chest and up her neck, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she reached for me, pulling me down on top of her, her body arching to meet mine. I slid a hand between her thighs, finding her wet and ready. She gasped as I stroked her, her nails digging into my back.
“Now,” she demanded, her voice a ragged whisper. “I need you now.”
I reached for the nightstand drawer, fumbling for a condom. She watched through hooded eyes as I rolled it on, her tongue darting out to wet her lips in a gesture so unconsciously sensual it damn near knocked me to my knees.
I lined myself up and pushed into her, slowly at first, the heat of her so tight and perfect it took my breath away. I had to stop, just for a second, braced above her, fighting for control. She was real. This was real. And, fuck, if it didn’t feel better than anything I’d ever imagined.
Her legs wrapped tight around my waist, demanding more, and I gave her everything she was asking for, driving into her harder, faster, until the only sound in the room was her gasping my name, her head thrown back against the pillows like she was offering herself up to me.
We crashed together hard in a raw frenzy, like neither of us could get close enough, fast enough, every thrust sharp, punishing, desperate. We weren’t careful, weren’t gentle. Her nails scored my back, my grip on her hips turned punishing, neither of us letting go as we chased the only healing we knew.
She came with a cry that she muffled against my shoulder, her body tightening around mine in waves that pulled me over the edge with her. For a moment, we were suspended together in that perfect, mindless bliss—no past, no future, just the present and the exquisite sensation of being completely, utterly connected.
Reality crept back in slowly. The sound of our breathing, harsh in the quiet room. The feel of her skin, slick with sweat beneath my palms. The weight of what we’d just done, settling over us.
I rolled to the side, not wanting to crush her with my weight, but kept an arm around her waist, unwilling to break contact completely. She didn’t resist, but she didn’t curl into me either. We lay side by side, staring at the ceiling, neither of us quite ready to face what came next.
“Well,” I finally said, when the silence had stretched too thin, “that was unexpected.”
She laughed, the sound startled and genuine. “That’s one word for it.”
I turned my head to look at her, drinking in the sight of her profile in the dim light. Her hair was a mess, her makeup slightly smudged, her lips still swollen from my kisses. She’d never looked more beautiful.
“Do you regret it?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.
She went quiet, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “Ask me tomorrow.” A beat passed, then she glanced at me, her expression unreadable. “Funny thing is, I was already in bed, ready to sleep when…” She left it hanging, unfinished, like even she wasn’t sure how to explain it.
I nodded, accepting that it was the most honest answer she could give. Whatever this was between us—obsession, attraction, the ghost of something that had started twelve years ago—it wasn’t simple. It would not be resolved with one night of mind-blowing sex, no matter how much we might have hoped it would be.
