Manhattan's Most Scandalous Reunion by Dani Collins, Caitlin Crews

CHAPTER EIGHT

“THAT’SNOTWHAT I think.” She caught his hand as he started to move away. “Not anymore. But you’ve done so much for me—”

“I’m not interested in being paid back for any of that,” he said coldly.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do!” She let go of his hand and they glared at each other.

She folded her arms and looked at the clothes.

“You did nice things for me before, and I thought it meant you cared, really cared. And I built that into all these big assumptions based on what I’d always imagined I would have when I found the right man. When I realized... When I realized you didn’t love me, I thought all of those things you’d done were—”

“I know what you thought,” he said through his teeth. His profile was hard as hammered iron.

“I hated myself for being so blind, for wasting my time, myself, with someone so shallow.”

She heard his sharp inhale.

“But that’s not what you are,” she hurried to say, taking a step toward him. “And I realize now why you don’t have the same expectations I do. I respect that. You’re still a good person.”

He snorted. “No, I’m not. And the more I learn about you, the more I realize what a bastard I was for getting involved with you. I didn’t mean to lead you on, but I did. If anything, this is me trying to buy your good opinion.” He waved at the clothes.

“It’s working.”

He swore under his breath and rejected that with a jerk of his head.

“It’s true,” she insisted. “I needed to know that I wasn’t completely blind, Reve. That you really are generous and protective and thoughtful and have a core of integrity. I needed to know the man I fell for wasn’t a mirage.”

“But I am,” he assured her.

“No, you’re not.” She set her hand on the front of his shirt and let her fingernails slip between the buttons so her touch sat against his warm skin.

“Don’t.” He caught her wrist.

Beneath his tense expression she saw a flash of something that might have been stark need.

“Don’t do this,” he said in a roughened voice that might have been an order or a plea. “Because I will take you to bed and I will hurt you again. Not because I want to, but because I can’t be the man you want. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Really, Reve? Talk to me about how fair life is.” Her voice creaked. The things he’d told her on the plane were still sitting inside her, jagged as broken glass. “Life is never as simple as we want it to be. Even a dream as common as marriage and family is harder to achieve that it sounds. Look at my dad, losing the love of his life far too young. My sister, unable to carry the baby she desperately wants.”

“Exactly why I won’t risk falling in love! I don’t want to expect good things and have them turn bad.”

“I don’t expect you to fall in love. I don’t expect anything from you if we have sex.” She dipped her head against his chest. “I shouldn’t have expected anything before.”

His hands came to her shoulders as if to push her away, yet there was no force in them. They rested there while tension gripped him.

She lifted her gaze to his hungry, indecisive expression.

Slowly she let her body lean into his. Tiny detonations began going off inside her as his warmth seeped through their clothing, past her skin and into her blood. Her throat and breasts and belly and thighs grew hot. She touched her mouth under his chin.

His chest expanded and his hands shifted up her back.

“I am only a man, you know.” His voice reverberated against her lips where she touched them next to his Adam’s apple. “And this is all I’ve been thinking about.”

“Me, too.”

He choked a laugh, already dropping his head, sealing their mouths together.

The intensity of sensation that went through her might have alarmed her if his strong arms hadn’t closed around her, grounding her. Promising to keep her safe.

She curled her arms around his neck and conveyed that he should kiss her harder, but he skated his mouth across her cheek to her ear and whispered, “Slowly.”

His lips nibbled around the shell of her ear, his breath tickling until the hair on her scalp and arms stood up. Her knees softened and she gasped, “I don’t think I can wait.”

“You will have to, though, won’t you?” His tongue dabbled at her earlobe. “Because I will not squander this time, Nina. Not one second of it.”

What had she unleashed? A beast. A possessive, patient, tender, sensual beast. His arms tightening, his mouth went to her throat, and her nipples stung where they pressed against his chest.

“Reve.” She roamed her hands over his flexing shoulders, standing on tiptoe and tilting her head so he could bite softly at the tendon where her neck joined her shoulder. He was hard. She could feel him against her mound. She was excited, but she wanted to savor this, too. She brought his mouth back to hers, and they shared a long, lazy, powerful kiss that became her entire existence.

When she drew back, she blinked with incomprehension, surprised to find herself here, with him, in Paris.

Lust shone from between his tangled lashes. He turned her and walked with himself glued to her back, ambling slowly and kissing her neck as he guided her into the master bedroom.

“I’ve always liked this dress on you,” he said, sliding his hands over the brushed jersey against her stomach.

“Why? Because it’s soft?” The wrap dress was comfortable and the mauve color flattering to her skin tone. She’d put it on for travel thinking if she was spotted, at least she would be wearing one of her own designs.

“Because it’s sexy as hell. Short and flirty.” His hand traced along the belt to fiddle with the tails of the bow that draped her hip and then followed to where the skirt flap overlapped. “You think I haven’t been staring at your legs all day?”

“These old things? They barely run.”

“Hmm. Funny.” She felt his smile against her nape.

The floor in the bedroom was parquet wood in a basket weave pattern. She lifted her gaze to a fireplace that looked through to a bathtub. There was a painting above it in silver and blue abstract ribbons. The massive bed was made up with white and gray bedding, and a translucent white curtain covered the pair of doors onto the terrace.

“This is beautiful.” Romantic. Like a dream. A perfect fantasy, which was all this was.

He said, “I can’t see anything but you,” and she was okay with fantasy.

She sent him a look over her shoulder.

He kissed her smile away, then said, “Before I get too distracted...” He went to the night table, withdrew a box of condoms from the drawer and turned it to find the expiration date. “Still good.” He left them next to the lamp.

She had noticed he’d used one the other day, and even though a small pang of hurt had struck, she admonished herself that she had left him.

“What’s wrong?” He came across and stilled the hands she was wringing, forcing her to lift her gaze to his.

“Nothing.”

“Nina. We can’t do this if we’re not going to be honest with each other.”

“It’s fine that you’ve been with other people,” she blurted. “I didn’t expect any different.”

“I haven’t been with anyone.” His head went back. “I used a condom the other day because I thought you might have been with someone. Maybe that boyfriend you left when you came to New York?”

“He’s married now.”

She wasn’t sure of the wave of stiff emotion encasing him, but she thought it might be defensiveness. Did he think it said something about how important she’d been to him that he hadn’t found anyone else?

Don’t, Nina. She needed to keep this in perspective.

She brushed away deeper yearnings and offered a saucy smile. “Put those straight back in the drawer.”

One side of his mouth pulled. “You think you’re in charge here? Think again.”

She grew tight all over, anticipation overwhelming her. She wanted him to drag her dress apart and ravage her, but he only picked up the tail of her braid where it dangled in front of her shoulder.

“I’ve been staring at this all day, too. Thinking about taking it apart.” He removed the elastic from the end. His gaze came up to crash into hers. “Thinking about taking you apart.”

Excited tension rose in her throat. If she were another animal, it might have been a purr or a growl.

He took his time, the rogue, working his fingers into her braid to free it, turning her so he could follow it when it turned into a French braid that started above her opposite ear. He paused a few times to set maddening kisses against her neck.

“I like the pink.” He turned her to face him and combed his fingers into her hair. “I want to feel you run this all over my naked skin.”

“Oh, you think you’re in charge?”

“I do.” He made one careful revolution of the hand still tangled in her hair. Now he had her trapped with a tighter grip. “I think you’re at my mercy.” He touched his mouth to her lips, barely leaving a burning spark of static before he set a peck on her nose and a tender kiss on her brow. Another grazed her cheekbone, then the corner of her mouth, then the base of her throat.

He roamed his free hand all over her, waking her body to his touch. She did the same, rediscovering the muscled strength beneath his crisp shirt and tailored trousers.

When she felt the belt of her dress tugged open, she held her breath. A cool rush of air wafted across her abdomen and upper thighs as he opened the dress. His hot hand crept inside, sliding across her waist and around to her lower back, drawing her half-naked body into his clothed one. The cool metal of his belt buckle branded her stomach.

“Reve.” She curled one hand under his arm to rest on his shoulder blade, her other around his neck.

“Why have I never taken you dancing, Nina?” His hand went to her tailbone, but he left the other in her hair. He opened his hot mouth against her neck as he gently swayed them against one another.

Her mind nearly exploded, she was accosted by so many sensations. Her hands moved on him, trying to ground herself in his solidness, but her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head as he continued placing seductive kisses across her collarbone and under her chin.

When he kissed her again, the tenderness was still there, but the heat had arrived. The need.

But even as she drank up his deep, ravenous kisses and sucked flagrantly on his bottom lip, sinking ever deeper into the greedy underworld of lust, she was overwhelmed with a tremendous need to give.

His hand slid down to her bottom, palming her cheek through lace and silk, and she moved in time with his petting, seeking more of his fondling while also pressing into the hardness behind his fly. When she would have dipped her mouth into his throat, the sharp tug against her scalp reminded her he still had a fistful of her hair.

They looked at each other with dazed eyes. He released her, causing her to wince a little as he untangled his fingers, but he smoothed his hand over her hair in apology and wordlessly drew her back into their kiss.

Now they blatantly tangled their tongues and clung to each other, and her only thought was that she didn’t know how she had lived without him. Without this. She wanted to stand on his feet and climb inside him. Have nothing between them but the perspiration he brought forth onto her skin.

He drew back enough to brush her dress off her shoulders, his gaze reverent as he looked down on her breasts. She opened the front closure of her bra herself, peeling back the cups in offering, reveling in the growling noise that sounded in his throat as he cupped her breasts, firmly and slowly, massaging as he went back to kissing her, then finding her nipples and giving gentle pinches that struck twin shots of electric gold straight to her loins.

A sob escaped her and she gave a light scrape of her nails through his shirt against his shoulders, telling him how torturous this was.

When he let her breathe, she gasped, “I can’t stand. I’m too weak.”

“I’ll hold you up.” He wrapped his arms around her, his hands going to her bottom again, sliding inside her panties and squeezing the taut globes.

She stood on tiptoe, barefoot because she’d kicked off her sandals when she entered the apartment. She clung to him and felt all of her inhibitions slipping away. Everything in her became want. His.

She rubbed him through his pants and felt his whole body go taut. “Do you want my mouth here?”

“Yes.” His breath hissed through his teeth as she continued caressing him. “Your hands, your mouth. I want to suck your nipples until you’re ready to come. I want to feel your thighs squeezing my ears when you do.”

She was nearly there now, her panties so damp he must feel it where he was reaching his long finger from the back of her thigh toward her hot core.

“What are you waiting for?” She sucked the side of his neck, wanting to mark him. Wishing she had the right to call him hers for all time.

His muscles gathered and he twisted, pressing her toward the bed. She sat and opened her knees, hooking her hands in his belt to draw him closer. It was the playful push-pull they’d always had. The small oversteps of familiarity formed a link of trust that grew stronger with each passionate encounter.

As she began to unbuckle him, however, it struck her this might be one of the last times she made love with him. It made her clumsy as she worked to open his fly and push his pants off his hips.

She exposed his thick, straining erection, and his hands on her shoulders gave a restrained clench while she breathed out a shaken breath upon him. His abdomen hollowed and she kissed the tense muscles there. Then she tasted and caressed and swallowed him into her mouth, applying delicate suction so his hands moved to her head and he shook.

His breaths were the sound of metal on gravel, uneven and loud enough to fill the room. His buttocks were hard. She tested them with the sharp dig of her fingernails and wanted to finish him like this. Leave a memory in him that would live eternally, but he dragged himself free of the draw of her lips and clenched his fist around his shaft, visibly straining to keep control of himself.

“My turn.” He set splayed fingertips on her chest and nudged her to fall backward onto the mattress, then leaned over her to kiss her.

He ravaged her mouth the way she’d been aching for him to do. The way that said she was his entire world right now, the only thing that mattered to him. His bare chest was against hers, the fine hairs just rough enough when she twisted to create delicious friction. His steely thighs were planted between her twitching legs. His hot sex teased her through the wet silk of her panties.

She ran her hands under the edges of his open shirt, caressing his damp back, and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. He lifted long enough to throw it away, then gathered her breasts again, murmuring, “So pretty.”

His mouth went to her collarbone, her breastbone, the upper swell of her chest and the turgid nipple of one breast. He tortured the other with a soft pinch, keeping it up as she wriggled and dove her hands into his hair and tried to speak past the swirl of intense pleasure that gripped her.

He shifted and his blunt tip pressed against her, teasingly blocked by wet silk.

“Move it,” she gasped, trying to grapple the placket aside.

“I want all of you.” He went to his knees, as aware as she was that their time was short. That they couldn’t hold anything back at this point because there wouldn’t be a next time.

That thought had her giving herself over to him, letting him kiss and lick at the insides of her thighs and steal her panties.

His bared teeth were too feral to be called a smile as he easily arranged her how he wanted her, with her thighs draped over his upper arms. His breath wafted against her curls.

“Hello, lovely.” He parted her and swept his tongue along her folds, slowly tightening the coil of need in her abdomen with ruthless languor.

When she gasped, “I want you inside me,” and tugged at his hair, he slid a finger inside her and continued lapping and loving and driving her ever closer to sheer madness. She trembled with need, moaning with loss as he removed his finger. Two came back, and he delicately worked them in and out of her as he swirled and sucked.

Her last vestige of self-consciousness disappeared and she became pure instinct. She pressed him to increase his tempo and lifted her hips into the press of his mouth. Then she gave herself up to the wild wave that threw her into the abyss.

She might have screamed. She didn’t know.

This.Reve needed nothing in life beyond Nina exactly like this, utterly weak with passion. He kicked off his pants and shifted her into the middle of the bed, then settled over her. His swollen tip felt as though he would split his skin, but he soothed the ache by anointing himself against her slippery, pulsing folds.

She made a soft, receptive noise and her knee came up, her calf slipping across his back with invitation.

He slid in and went blind at the sensation—hot and soft and blissfully wet. She was the only woman he had ever been truly naked with, which wasn’t the only reason this was so intensely pleasurable. It was the surrender in her soft body beneath his, the welcome in her sigh against his ear. The heaviness in her eyelids and the caress of her fingertips against his spine reduced the world to just this. Them. Joined.

He had forgotten how profound this was, and his heart shook in warning.

He might have withdrawn then, but the slightest friction on his impatient flesh sizzled his brain and caused her to hum with renewed arousal. He felt a quake of pleasure go through her and he was lost.

His only thought then was to hold back while he waited for her to catch up to him. He made himself lie still with his heartbeat buried inside her. When he whispered how good she felt around him, she shivered and tightened her clasp on his flesh.

He caressed her shoulders and arms and thighs and bottom, sliding his touch to where they were joined, and delicately drew another hum of awareness from her. He contorted so he could suckle her nipples and feel the lovely tension gather in her.

When she opened her eyes and he saw the haze of passion clouding her pretty brown eyes, he rolled her to straddle him.

This was the woman who had haunted him for months. She sat tall and ran her hands over herself, watching him with a seductive smile as she touched where she held him captive.

He ground his teeth and cupped her breasts, lifting his hips because he was unable to help himself.

Her pupils seemed to explode. She caught his wrists and began to lift and roll as she rode him. Every breath was a harsh sob that accompanied the impact of their flesh. He moved his hands to her hips, guiding her so they were in perfect sync.

Her sobs grew more anxious as she closed in on the finish. His throat burned with the ragged noises he was making, striving to hang on, to get there, to arrive at exactly the same moment—

She froze, and her mouth hung open to release a silent scream.

All his senses disappeared. He was torn from this world for long seconds before he was thrown back with such a slam of pleasure, it was nearly pain. He gripped her hips, trying to meld them into one as he bucked with jolts of sheer ecstasy.

He knew at a distance that he was losing something of himself. Something he would never get back. But in these sharp, endless, euphoric seconds, he didn’t give one tiny damn.

She could have all of him. He was already hers.