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  Her chest rose and fell as she watched him, heat pooling between her legs with every move he made. He left his shirt open, and she marveled at his chest, at the hard planes and ridges. Her hand had a mind of its own, and she twisted her arm around to try to touch him. He swatted her hand away, and pushed her tight black shirt up her back, exposing more of her skin, then he ran his hands up and down her spine. He dipped his hand between her legs, sliding a finger across her swollen lips.

  “Oh,” she cried out, her eyes falling closed, and her mouth forming a perfect O.

  “Have you been touching yourself?” he asked, sounding like a lawyer in a courtroom. She was a willing witness, eager to be cross-examined.

  “No,” she said and he rubbed his fingers over her once more, drawing out a needy moan. She rocked her ass back against him. He raised his hand, and her breath caught, knowing what was coming. Her eyes widened as he brought his hand to her cheek, a sharp sting radiating across her rear.

  He bent down to brush his soft lips against her flesh, and she whimpered as he soothed out the sting with his tongue. He slipped his hand between her legs again, sending sparks of heat throughout her body. “You haven’t touched yourself once since I saw you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I swear. I knew I’d only think of you if I did and it would make me crazy not to have you.” He thrust a finger inside her, and she saw stars as he flicked her clit with his thumb. “So you saved it all for me?”

  “Yes,” she panted.

  “Good. Because I’m going to take it all. I want it all.”

  He took his hand away, raising it again and she quivered, knowing he was going to smack her once more. She craved the sharp sweet mix of pleasure and pain, and this time the smack was followed by his fingers gliding between her legs, as he rubbed her where she wanted him most.

  “I’ve haven’t touched myself either, Julia,” he said as he began unzipping his pants. “You know what that means?”

  “What does that mean?” she said as he pushed his briefs down, freeing his enormous erection. Her lips parted at the sight of his cock – thick, hard and throbbing. She wanted him so badly. Wanted all of him. He gripped his cock, stroking himself up and down. She watched, mesmerized, as a low moan escaped her.

  “It means I’ve been rock hard since you left me. I’ve been walking around New York City at full fucking mast thinking of you and not doing a damn thing about it for the same reason,” he said, dragging the head of his cock against her wet pussy lips. Sweet agony sang in her body, as she tried to rock back into him, to draw him into her body, awash with neverending lust. “I didn’t want to think about you because you were all I was thinking about already,” he said, as he reached into his pocket for a condom, tore open the wrapper and rolled it on.

  “It was the same for me.” She could hear the desperation in her own voice. She needed this so much, not just the physical connection that burned hot between them. But she needed him. This man, the way he made her feel inside and out. He’d touched something so deep inside of her, a part she’d kept hidden and well-protected. But he was there, working his way around the fortress of her hardened heart, and she wanted all of him. She could not be more grateful that he’d shown up tonight – the first clear evidence that maybe her luck was changing. “I kept thinking about you too. I want you so much.”

  “I want you too.” He bent over her body, laying his chest over her as he rubbed his hard length against her entrance. “And I hated the way you left me.”

  “I hated it too,” she said as she writhed against him, struggling to guide him into her. He gripped her wrists over her head, pinning her on the table.

  “Julia,” he rasped out, grazing his mouth along the column of her throat, eliciting a desperate groan from her. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Yes?” She asked, breathing hard, her back arching, her body molding to his.

  He pulled back to look her in the eyes. His voice was ragged. “I’m crazy about you, but right now I’m going to fuck you like I hate you. I need to fuck you angrily but don’t forget this, I’m crazy for you.”

  She bit her lip, desire coursing through her like a shooting star speeding across the sky. “I’m crazy for you,” she murmured, but the last word was swallowed as he thrust into her, filling her in one quick move.

  She moaned loudly and closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his hard, hot length inside her. God, he felt amazing, stretching her. He began to pump. Hard, fast, rough. Just like he’d promised. Her breasts were smashed against the kitchen table, and she didn’t care that they hurt. She welcomed the hurt. The way every part of her body felt him. Her legs shook as he drove into her, her wrists twinged with his rough grip, her cheek throbbed with how she was pressed hard against the unforgiveable metal surface. But with each thrust, she took him in deeper, her heat rising. She grew wetter with every punishing stroke, needing terribly for him to fuck all the stress, all the problems, all the troubles out of her life right now.

  “Harder,” she urged, and she was rewarded with a slam.

  “Be careful what you wish for,” he said roughly against her ear.

  “I like it like this. I’m not regretting it.”

  “Don’t ever regret me,” he said, his stubbled jaw rubbing against her cheek.

  “Never,” she said in between pants. She raised her ass higher. “Touch me,” she said, and she sounded like she begging, but she knew he’d like that sound.

  “You want me to touch your clit?” he asked as he pounded into her.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Good. I like how you asked nicely for it,” he said, letting go of her wrists. He stood behind her now, ramming hard, as he held her hip with one hand, the other hand reaching between her legs to rub her clit. The second he made contact, she shrieked in pleasure.

  “Yes.”

  It was all she could say. All she could manage. She shouted yes over and over as he pounded into her, taking her body, taking it back for him, claiming her with the hard, rough, fucking she wanted. His finger raced across her swollen clit, hitting her at just the right pace, just the right friction until the world spun away, and everything blurred out but the unholy pleasure that rang through her body. Her climax rushed over as she tore past the brink. He was there with her, gripping her hips, plunging deeper, unleashing himself in her, until he collapsed on her.

  She breathed out hard, panting, like she’d just run a race. Then his lips were on her neck, kissing her softly, gently, as he mapped her with his mouth. “I’m so crazy about you,” he whispered, and though her body was hot from their crazy coming together, her heart flooded with warmth too from his words.

  “I feel the same, Clay. Exactly the same,” she murmured, turning her head so he could dust her mouth with his lips.

  He pulled out, tossed the condom in the trash can, and returned to her. He lifted her spent body from the table, where she was still splayed out, awash in the aftershocks, and he carried her to her bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, walked to the bathroom, grabbed some tissues and brought them to her. She cleaned up, and handed them to him to dispose of.

  When he returned once more he scanned her bedroom, and she wasn’t sure if he was going to stay the night here or not. Nerves raced through her, as she wondered what he would do next.

  Chapter Nineteen

  So this is where she lay at night when she’d sent all those emails.

  Curled up on her king-size bed, on top of the wine-red covers, half-naked.

  At least, that’s how he liked to imagine her, and how he liked to look at her.

  He’d never been one to think much about a woman’s home decor, but something seemed quite fitting about the deep reds, royal purples and gold colors in her bedroom – sexy shades for a woman who exuded sexiness in her style.

  On her nightstand was an eReader and he was willing to bet it was well-stocked with the books she loved – adventure tales, she’d told him the night they met. Stories of naval rescues at
sea, of daring treks up mountains, of beating the odds. She was an adventuresome woman, and what she read reflected that side of her. A purple scarf was draped over the lamp on the nightstand, and his mind flashed to other uses for that scarf. He checked out the framed photos on her bureau – pictures of her sister and her, and her sister and a dog too.

  “That’s McKenna’s dog. Ms. Pac-Man,” Julia said.

  “Cute dog.”

  “She is cute and smart,” Julia said, a note of pride in her voice, almost like an aunt beaming about a child. “She’s also loyal and devoted.”

  “As a dog should be.”

  “And a person,” she added.

  “Yes,” he said, agreeing emphatically. “Are you loyal and devoted?”

  She nodded, her face serious, her green eyes holding his gaze. There was a fierceness in her look. A certainty. “I only want you. I only think of you,” she said.

  “I know the feeling well.”

  She patted her bed. “I like the way you look in my apartment.”

  “I like the way you look right now,” he said, climbing up on her bed and joining her.

  “Are you going to take off those pants and stay the night?” She asked, eyeing his half-dressed state.

  “I am considering it,” he said in a wry tone.

  “What can I do to convince you?”

  He was surprised to find her voice stripped bare of flirting as she posed the question. He was used to her seductive side, the way she’d trail her fingernails along his arm to get what she wanted. But this was a newer side of Julia, a vulnerable one, and it gave him hope that she was finally opening up to him.

  He ran his index finger along her jawline. He swallowed, taking a beat. He was going to put it out there. Put himself out there. “Let me in,” he said, as he moved his fingers to her heart, tracing it.

  “How?” she asked in a wobbly voice.

  “Tell me why you’re scared. Tell me why you ran.”

  She sighed heavily, shifting from her side to her back. She closed her eyes; her face seemed pinched. He ran his hand along her bare arm. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’re here now. I’m here now. I want to know what I need to do so I don’t scare you away.”

  She opened her eyes, turned back to face him. Her expression was softer now. “It’s nothing you can or can’t do. It’s me.”

  “Right. It generally is. But tell me how I can help you be comfortable with you and me,” he said. “Because for a while there I was damn sure you were history. My friend Michele even said so in no uncertain terms.”

  Like she’d been burned, Julia jerked away from him, sitting up straight. “Michele? Who’s Michele? Your ex?”

  He laughed. “Michele is just a friend. Davis’ sister. Known her for years. She also happens to be a shrink.”

  “You were talking to her about me?” Julia crossed her arms.

  “Yes,” he said, tugging on her hips, trying to pull her back to lie next to him. But she scooted further away into the jumble of pillows by her headboard. “Hey, I was talking to her about you because I like you, woman. Get that straight.”

  She narrowed her eyes. Fixed him with a harsh stare. But said nothing.

  “And I was trying to understand you, and I still don’t entirely understand, so help a man out.”

  “Fine, but I don’t want other women touching you,” she said sharply as she glared at him.

  Another laugh took hold of him, deep and rumbling through his chest. It warmed him up, knowing how possessive she was. “I believe I’ve made it patently clear that I am a one-woman kind of man, and you are my kind of woman. But this conversation isn’t about me. I want to know what’s going on with you,” he said, succeeding this time in tugging her alongside him.

  She took a breath, pursed her lips together, then exhaled. She looked him square in the eyes; her pretty greens were tinged with sadness and a trace of fear. His heart lurched towards her, wanting to help her, reassure her. She licked her lips, and spoke in a wobbly voice that grew stronger as she pushed through. “I’ve got some trouble from my past chasing me. And I can’t say anything more, because I don’t want you or anyone I care about to get caught up in my problems.”

  He started to speak, to tell her he wasn’t afraid of problems, and he certainly didn’t expect anyone to come to a relationship baggage-free, but she held up her hand to silence him.

  “Eventually, I’ll be free of it, but right now there’s just stuff I have to deal with, and that’s why I left so quickly,” she said, her voice raw and pained. “I’m sorry.”

  “Is somebody hurting you?” he asked, clenching his fists as he kept his voice on an even keel. He didn’t want to scare her, but he sure as hell would scare anyone who laid a hand on her.

  “No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “Nor do I have a pill problem or anything like your ex, I swear.” She gripped his bicep, digging her fingers into his flesh to make her point. “I promise.”

  “That is excellent news. But what sort of trouble is it, then?”

  “Clay,” she said, soft, but insistent in her tone. “That’s all I want to say. I have to keep the people I care about out of it. And I care about you. So deeply, and more than I ever thought I would,” she said, reaching for his hand, and threading her soft fingers through his. “So much more,” she added, squeezing his hand for emphasis, and her touch sent a shiver through him. She kissed his hand. By god, he could get used to this side of her. He would love to see this part of her every day. “It’s my problem to deal with, and I’m dealing with it.”

  He wanted to help her, but he wasn’t sure she’d let him so he tried another way to understand the scope of this problem. “Is it something I should be worried about?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He raised an eyebrow, studying her face, trying to read her. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but something in his gut said she was telling the truth. Or maybe he just wanted to believe her. Maybe he could. For now, at least. “Okay, I will try my best not to worry for now then,” he said, though he knew that would be a tall order because already – deep in his gut – he was concerned for her, for everything about her. He wanted to protect her, look out for her. That she was hardly the kind of woman who needed taking care didn’t factor into his thinking one bit. She was his and he couldn’t abide by anyone hurting her.

  “Good,” she said, and her face lit up again, her mischievous grin reappearing as she danced her fingers down his chest. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise late-night visit?”

  “In town for a meeting. I’m seeing Chris tomorrow about his renegotiations.”

  “McKenna didn’t mention it to me.”

  He tapped her nose. “It was last-minute. Just scheduled it today and caught an evening flight. I’m heading to L.A. early afternoon, so I’m squeezing the meeting in beforehand.”

  “I am glad you squeezed me in,” she said, her hand darting to the waistband of his pants. “Now, have I successfully convinced you to take these off and spend the night with me? I’m not much of a cook but I do know where I can take you tomorrow morning for some fantastic pancakes.”

  He pretended to think deeply about the food. “I do love pancakes.”

  “And spending the night with me. You better love that too,” she said, playfully swatting him.

  “I believe I could find it in me to enjoy another night with you.”

  “Wait. Where’s your bag?”

  “In the town car. Driver’s waiting outside.”

  “So you could make a getaway?”

  He shook his head. “Gorgeous, when is it going to get through to you that I’m not the one who’s running? Nor am I a presumptuous asshole who’s going to show up at your doorstep with an overnight bag unless you want me to.”

  “I want you to,” she said in a sexy purr.

  He dialed his driver, and a minute later, there was a knock on the door. Clay retrieved his bag, tipped the driver and said goodnight. He returned
to Julia’s room to find her leaning against the wall, her shirt shucked off and her stockings removed, wearing only her red pumps. Her hips jutted out seductively and his dick rose to full attention as he drank in the sight of her, the moonlight casting midnight blue shadows across her long and lean body, highlighting her curves.

  “You didn’t think I was going to bed, did you?”

  “Not for a second.”

  “I want to show you one of my favorite positions.”

  “I have a feeling it’s going to be one of my favorite positions too,” he said as he kicked off his pants, and placed them on a chocolate brown chair in the corner of her bedroom.

  She pointed to the bed. “Take off the briefs, and sit down.”

  “At your service,” he said, stripping off his final layer, and parking himself on the edge of her bed. She looked him over from head to toe, and he wasn’t going to deny it – the hunger in her eyes was the biggest turn-on of his life. She stared at him like she’d never wanted anyone so much. As if she had never laid eyes on a man she wanted to feast on like this. Tremors rolled through him, and he ached with desire for her. A low growl took hold in his chest as she strutted over to him. The sight of her gorgeous body was something he’d never get enough of. She stopped, placing her hands on his shoulders, leaning into him so her breasts brushed his face. A bolt of heat tore through him, and he reached for her, craving closeness, needing her beautiful body pressed against his. But she pulled back, wagging her finger, then walked away, heading for her nightstand. She grabbed the purple scarf and returned.

  “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander,” she said in that sexy, smoky voice that could lead him to say yes to anything she wanted.

  “You tying me up?”

  “Just a little bit,” she said, as she straddled him, sitting across his thighs. He felt the heat from her pussy even though she wasn’t close to touching his cock. Still, being near his favorite place made his dick throb. She pressed against him once more, reaching her arms around him. She tugged at his hands on the mattress, adjusting them behind his back. She wrapped the scarf around his wrists, tying them together.