Layers Deep Page 9

  He plunged until I felt his cock at my depth. The swell below was slicker by the minute. The slap of his front against me echoed. The sound of our fluids squishing between our writhing bodies and the exquisite smell of sex and lust excited me. Our skin-to-skin connection sent my senses into overdrive as he filled me. I moved my hips in a small circles as he slammed into me.

  I inhaled his sweat aroma of alcohol and Old Spice and sweat. Then he stopped, flipped me over, and I was on my back with legs wide apart for him. Like a marionette I lay there open, waiting for the next onslaught.

  “You’re fucking amazing,” he said, lowering himself on top of me, supporting his weight on his elbows. His broad shoulders encased me as he lowered his mouth to my breast, centering his hips between my legs again. Tristan looked into my eyes, and I wasn’t sure what passed between us. An unspoken understanding of what we both needed. He slid into me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, letting him stretch me.

  In the faint light, drops of frenzy covered his skin, glowing. His head lowered. I closed my eyes, relishing the way his mouth caressed my nipple. He rolled it with his tongue and squeezed with his lips while pulling up and releasing. Each time he pushed forward, my breasts hardened and so did the feverishness of his movements. Their bounce increased. The friction between our pubic bones tantalized me. He’d slip out a few times and slide the tip of his cock up between my folds, then back into me again, teasing and probing me.

  Once he remained inside me for a longer time, I knew he was ready. Anticipation vibrated through my body and I grabbed my breasts and pinched my nipples for him to see what he was doing to me. He awakened my inner desires like no one had before.

  “Ah, fuck.” He shut his eyes closed and stilled.

  Small jitters flew through his body as his warm seed filled me. His hips buckled for the last time and he collapsed, breathing heavily into my neck.

  “Abso-fucking-beautiful.” He rolled to the side, but kept his penetrating gaze on me.

  “Is this how all your interviews ended?” I asked.

  He laughed. “This one is definitely near the top of the list.”

  “Near?” I narrowed my brows at his tease. I lowered my hand and cupped his emptied sack. “Would you like more?”

  He grabbed my hand. “Later, yes. I need to breathe,” he heaved, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

  “So I gather I got the job?” I asked, allowing a hint of a smirk.

  “You got the job, Allie. You got the fucking job.”

  I didn’t think I’d ever seen a man’s face so thoroughly satisfied. Tristan pulled me in, wrapping his body around mine. His breathing and heart rate slowed.

  I lay at his side, resting my head on his chest. Our bodies sticky with sweat and other fluids cooled. There was no other place that I’d rather be than with Tristan Cross. Whatever this job and our future held, I knew I’d savor this night forever.

  CHAPTER 9

  The air was heavy, filled with moisture: a mixture of sweat and alcohol. Tristan’s chest moved in even breaths. His eyes rolled under his lids and his mouth twitched as if he were trying to smile.

  He’s dreaming.

  How could someone who looked so innocent have done all those wonderful things to me last night? The white sheet, stained in wet patches from our sweat, was wrapped around his hips, covering a delicious bulge which looked ready for an encore. The urge to feel his manhood in my grip twitched my palm, but I couldn’t.

  Responsibilities loomed. Part of me wondered how I’d face Tristan. What happened last night was more than just sex, no matter how much I tried to deny it. It was a sinful act of two needy souls connecting and using each other’s bodies to heal old wounds, fulfill our own desires, and forget the damaged pasts that scarred our lives layers deep.

  I’d tasted forbidden fruit I couldn’t get enough of. And I wanted more. I needed more. To be forged as one with Tristan released my pains of the past. He was my healer, and deep down I knew I was his. I inhaled, breathing him in. The room still smelled of sex: the fucking most delicious sex I’d ever smelled.

  The digital clock shone up onto the bedroom ceiling: five in the morning. Outside, the sun had barely woken up and glowed upward, lightening the sky above.

  I didn’t want to leave, but if I was going to work for Cross Enterprises I had to give my resignation today. I slowly slid my legs to the side of the bed, stepping onto my tip toes. Tristan’s seed dripped down the inside of my thighs. I gathered the fluorescent clothing off the floor, wishing I had something else to wear this morning. Leaving a luxurious building in this outfit, with my I’ve just been fucked hair that stuck in clumps of hairspray, would have people gawking at me. I imagined I looked like I’d just walked off the set of Pretty Woman, except there was nothing pretty about me this morning. But it would be better to do the walk of shame now than during the traffic rush of businessmen. If I could catch a cab back home, perhaps the cabbie would be the only one to see me.

  What was I thinking last night? I wasn’t. My greedy body had done all the thinking for me, and for the first time in my life I understood what people meant when they said men always think with the wrong head. Though I didn’t have a penis, I’d wanted Tristan in the auditorium, in the bar, at his hotel, on the street corner, in his car, and finally, I got him in his penthouse—or perhaps it was he who got me? Nothing else mattered except for the release I needed to receive from that man. And what a release it was!

  My eyes stung and my lashes felt heavy. Fearing the smeared mascara and eyeliner with a ton of mixed makeup, I avoided the mirror, lowered my head, and sneaked toward the bedroom door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  My head jolted up. Tristan’s reflection, propped up on an elbow on his side, belonged in a museum alongside Michelangelo’s sculpture of David.

  I froze mid-step, bunching my clothes to my chest, and slowly turned.

  “Home. I—”

  “Don’t cover up that beautiful body of yours.” He sat up stretching. The sheets fell to the floor, but he didn’t seem to care that his erection stood high; in fact, he seemed pretty happy to see me.

  And he’d called me “beautiful” again.

  “I need to shower and hand in my resignation.”

  “The shower’s that way.” He pointed to the en-suite. “Trust me. Allie, you don’t want to go out with the clothes you had on yesterday.” Tristan strolled toward me like a predator. And now I was sure he was happy to see me.

  “These are the only clothes I have.” I heard a slight vibration in my voice. This had never happened to me. He had changed me from a fierce lioness out on the street who didn’t care how she looked to a smitten kitten in bed. Even when I’d had sex before, I’d never let my guard down the way I could with Tristan. Last night, I’d let go of every last thought and worry. I’d forgotten about work and my life, and the revenge I sought no longer loomed in my mind. Tristan had taken care of Wright for me.

  So why was I so nervous this morning? We were two consenting adults who’d just had mind-blowing sex. There was nothing wrong with what we did, except for the fact that the tingling between my legs increased with each step Tristan took toward me. I wanted more. My body needed more. And he was the only one who could satisfy the yearning inside me. But it was supposed to be a one-time fuck, so I could concentrate on the job—so that Tristan could be my employer without crossing the ‘sexual harassment’ line. With Tristan only a foot away, and his steaming body breathing in tandem with mine, I couldn’t escape. And I didn’t want to escape. The pull was too strong. I felt my clothes slip out of my grip. Or perhaps I dropped them?

  “Do you want to fuck again, Allie?”

  “Yes.”

  He released a deep growl from the back of his throat and beckoned me with his index finger. The evil grin on his face was full of promises. My insides boiled as the ravenous kitten readied to shift back to a lioness. I stepped forward and took his face into my hands, tasting his mouth. T
ristan lifted me up into his arms and held my naked ass. My arms slid to his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist. His fingers dug feverishly into my skin as he carried me to the bathroom, straight into the shower.

  My back pressed against the cold marble tile. I uncoiled my legs, never letting go of his mouth. My hands and fingers roamed his tussled hair, pulling slightly. I didn’t think I’d ever get enough of his taste.

  “I won’t let you leave,” he said in between the kisses as he turned on the water.

  “Ahh!” The first hit of cold stream assaulted my skin, and goose bumps covered my body.

  Tristan laughed, connecting with every inch of my front, his hardness squeezed against my belly, and I forgot about the frigid water, which slowly began to warm up.

  But he wasn’t laughing at me; it was a joyful response to my reaction to the cold water. Whatever worries he’d carried with him last night when he picked me up on the street had disappeared as well, his mission to save Kendra temporarily postponed. I wondered what she’d meant to him. Was she family? Perhaps a close friend? Has someone hired him to find her?

  He pulled away and squirted shampoo from the compartment on the wall into his hands. The steam began to rise. He ran his hands over my wet hair, gently massaging my scalp. I imagined the ton of hairspray running down my back and couldn’t have been more grateful for the sensual wash.

  “I must look awful,” I said through the water and soap cascading down my face.

  “You look beautiful, Allie.” His lips gently touched mine and he continued to wash me. I held onto his arms, and his muscles ripened underneath my fingers when he moved. The hum of his breath vibrating off the water flowing down my face tantalized me. He squeezed more soap and kissed my shoulders and neck, and then slowly lowered his hands to my chest, caressing each breast with his slicked hands. When his hand slid down my belly and to my sex, I held my breath. Gosh, how good his hand felt on me down there! Tristan was so caring and thorough.

  “Are you wet for me, Allie, or is this just the water?”

  “For you.”

  “For me what, Allie?”

  I loved the way he’d said my name so often. Like I was the only one on his mind.

  “I’m wet for you, Tristan.” The words that left my mouth were not my own. I’d never been so open to a man, letting him control the way I moved and what I said. As a fierce cop out on the street, I kept up a barrier, hiding my emotions. The shield protected me. But Tristan took away all my inhibitions and changed me. He brought out the woman in me who hid behind the protective shield of a cop.

  “What do you want me to do about it?” he asked.

  I wanted to say how much I needed him to fuck me. I wanted to forget who I was and my responsibilities for a while longer, but instead of the devil which usually taunted me, someone else stepped on my shoulder, the other shoulder. My conscience. My fucking conscience decided to show up now, and I hesitated. I shut my eyes, feeling the words slip from the tip of my tongue to the back of my throat.

  “How are we going to make this work?” I asked. “You’re supposed to be my employer.”

  “Fun now, work later. You probably think I do this all the time, that women like you show up in my life every day, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.” His hot hands left my body. Tristan’s eyes hardened. I could tell he wanted to share something with me, but he wavered.

  Water flowed down my back.

  “What is the truth?”

  “I—I’ve been locked up in here.” He touched his left pec, just beneath his heart. “And you make me forget about... about everything. You’re so beautiful, Allie.”

  Tristan brushed his hand across my face.

  I lifted my palm to his heart and drew my finger across a white scar I had noticed before. He sucked in a quick breath, tightening his lips as if I’d burned him. The scar meant more to Tristan than I had thought. It wasn’t just an accident in a fight. The jab he’d received was deliberate. I could still see the pain in his eyes. His external scar pained him the same way my deep wounds traumatized me.

  I lowered my hand to down the valley between his abs, curving my palm around his shaft. He closed his eyes and I whispered, “I need you to fuck me, Tristan.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  In a swift move he spun me around, and I braced my hands against the wall, tilting my ass up for him. He slid his right hand around to my front, holding onto my hip with his left. His full palm cupped my sex, spreading his fingers through my folds as he played with my clit, working it slowly. I closed my eyes and pressed in, circling my hips to the gentle onslaught of his fingers.

  God, that felt so good! How in the world did he do that? The delicate patting and nudging of his fingers on my clit stirred the temptress inside me. He frisked me like an expert with gentle strokes and rubs on my sensitive tip, and I leaned my head to the side, savoring the graceful invasion of his touch.

  His cock brushed against my ass and I looked back just as he drew his length down my crack and in between my thighs. I opened wider for him.

  “Tell me what you want, Allie.”

  “I—I want your cock inside me.”

  He rammed into me at the invitation, jutting me forward, and then held still.

  “Ahh!” I screamed as he hit my full depth.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I gasped, my chest heaving. “Harder.” My pulse quickened. I hadn’t had anyone drive into me with such urge and intensity.

  And he thrust again, both hands on my hips this time, pulling me onto his exquisite thickness. I lowered my front, bracing against the tile, legs wide. His deliciously slow momentum increased. My tits jiggled in the air, and the heat of my arousal warmed the water that dripped off my nipples.

  “You’re so fucking tight.” Tristan propelled forward in a merciless rhythm.

  “Shut up and make me come.” Oh, God! What was happening to me? I’d never been so verbal with anyone. But Tristan, oh, God, Tristan was everything all at once.

  “Allie, Allie, Allie. Be careful what you ask for.” He withdrew from inside me and turned me around, dropping to his knees. Suddenly one of my legs was up on his shoulder, two of his fingers inside me, maybe three, and his tongue. Oh my God, that tongue! He basked in my folds, sucking on the tender tip. A few flicks in between zapped through my limbs all at once. I pushed my arms out to the sides in a desperate need to find support, but the shower was too wide. My toes curled and I grabbed Tristan’s shoulders, closing my eyes. My back arched as I pressed into his face, feeling the little spasms intensify as he feasted on my juices. His mouth was cruel and unforgiving.

  Tristan ignited my skin. The life of ecstasy flew through me. The bopping head spared no moment of rest. He didn’t tease or stop; Tristan went for it with his entire force. He sucked on my swollen lips and flicked my clit so fast, ramming his fingers in and out. What did he do inside me? I could feel my outer walls contract and close around his digits, tightening to feel the way he hooked the tip, pressing against a spot that sent a signal to my front where he ate me out. It electrified my skin, and I felt my open mouth curve in happiness over what was about to happen. The laugh came out deep from my belly as the inflamed tingles spread in bunched-up jitters. I grabbed his head, pressing him into me, and Tristan flicked and sucked with a relentless urge, letting my bliss explode through my shaking body.

  If I hadn’t pulled him away, he’d have kept going, but I needed the support of his arms, and when he stood up I fell into his body, all my limbs limp and muscles aching from contracting.

  Never in my life had I been so willing. I was a strong woman. For God’s sake, I was a police officer! I couldn’t let my guard down. But in Tristan’s presence, I wanted him to take control. I needed him to take command of my body and my needs. And boy, did he ever do that! Except with Tristan it was more. I couldn’t shut down my emotions even if I wanted to. The physical contact unlocked my heart. And how many men in the world put a wom
an’s needs before theirs?

  Washed and sated, Tristan handed me his bathrobe and a towel. I wrapped the cloth around my hair. The fabric smelled of Tristan, and I could swear even though he hadn’t had a drink, that hint of scotch and oak lingered on my body. I didn’t think I’d ever again drink a scotch without thinking about him.

  “Why did you want to leave this morning?”

  “I didn’t want to wake you,” I lied. The truth was, what had happened last night took me by surprise. I’d given myself to him like I never had before. He was supposed to be my boss. But since that day on the hill, when Tristan had held me there as my tears spilled, I knew he meant more to me than a normal boss should. And that scared me.

  And last night... I didn’t want to get the job on those kinds of merits, even if otherwise I would do anything and everything to get it. Because I knew I’d scar him even deeper than the wound on his chest. I would find a way. I always did with men, whether leaving them in the middle of the night or making an excuse for them to leave my house after sex. I couldn’t commit. My life had been too complicated. Except now, thanks to Tristan, it wasn’t. He had simplified it for me by taking care of Wright and keeping my mother safe.

  “You know, I’ve never had a woman leave my bed willingly.”

  I didn’t doubt that. I also didn’t doubt there’d been quite a few women here before me, and that I wouldn’t be the last one.

  He dropped the towel off his waist and pulled on a pair of sweats. No underwear! I found that way too damn sexy.

  “Tristan, what happened yesterday was a mistake.” I crossed my arms at my chest.