“You don’t have t—”
“You’re still not listening.” I stand and step around the bench, coming to kneel at the foot with a knowing grin. Winter looks flustered as she glances around. “I like everything I see. I want you.”
Her throat works, and she drops my gaze. I know there’s a cruel voice inside her, filling her head with shit that isn’t true. “What if someone comes in?”
“As long as I’m the one with my head between your legs, I don’t care who watches.”
Her mouth pops open in shock. “I don’t know what kind of weird shit you get up to on the circuit but—”
“What kind of weird shit?” I quirk a brow at her. “The only ‘weird shit’ I’ve been up to is abstaining from touching anyone at all. And you sitting here in these tight fucking clothes”—I reach for the waistband of her pants and tug—“giving me those tortured fuck-me eyes is shredding my self-control. Like you’re begging me to be inside you.”
Her leggings and underwear hit the point where she’ll need to lift her hips for me to pull them down any further. But Winter’s ass stays planted on the bench, hands propped behind her. “What do you mean, abstaining from touching anyone at all?”
Cat’s out of the bag, I guess. Might as well come clean.
“I mean, I cleaned up my act.”
“Why?”
I huff out a breath and hold her gaze, wanting her to really hear this. “Because I wanted to be the type of guy who could land you for more than one night.”
Her gaze bounces around my face. “You mean someone like me?”
“No, Winter. I mean you. That’s why I gave up my old phone. That’s why I have your number on my new one. I intended to call you. You needed time to rebuild, and I needed time to grow into someone who deserves you. I was biding my time, being patient.”
Her breath falls faster, stronger—choppier—as she regards me. It’s like I can see the pieces of the puzzle snapping into place, see her mind whirring. Which is why I reach for her hips and haul her toward me, taking the waistline of her pants as I go. Her hands fall to my shoulders when I look up at her and grin, tugging roughly at the stretchy pants that are now nothing more than flimsy fabric getting in my way.
“I’m done being patient, Tink. I’m coming for what I want. Right now.”
23
Winter
I’ve often thought about that night with Theo. Okay, I’ve obsessed over it. And I was certain I imagined how much he enjoyed going down on me. At first, I felt guilty.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to,” I said, while grabbing at his hair, trying to pull him back up.
He laughed, a deep rumble that I felt against my core. Eyes sparking, he stared up at me from between my legs. “I know I don’t need to, Tink. But I really, really want to.”
I’d never felt as naked as I did with his eyes fixed on the most private part of me.
I haven’t been with many men. I was too busy with school and then work.
And I definitely haven’t been with any men who ate my pussy with a smile. Which is what he did.
I had my first orgasm that night, with Theo Silva’s manicured stubble rasping against my inner thighs. I should be sad it took me twenty-eight years to have that moment, and yet, I’m not.
There was something poetic about it. Unforgettable. And right now, I’m taken back to that exact spot as Theo yanks my leggings from my body like he can’t wait another second.
“I just worked out,” I huff out before I internally berate myself for trying to sabotage this moment when I know how good it feels. How badly I want it.
Theo’s deep, amused chuckle is what I get in return. He spreads my legs and stares down at me. The bright halogen lights leave me nowhere to hide. “You barely broke a sweat. Which means I didn’t work you hard enough. But I will now.”
The pads of his fingers trail over the inside of my thighs, leaving gooseflesh in their wake.
“Someone could walk in,” I say again.
I hate myself. Why can’t I just shut up and enjoy good things?
He nods as he leans forward and drags his tongue over the length of my pussy. A deep, satisfied, “Mmm,” crests his lips. “I hope they do, Winter. I hope we have a whole fucking audience to watch how hard I’m going to make you come.”
My heart beats so fast I swear I can feel my sternum vibrating. Why does that sound so good? Why is this man so feral in so many ways? And then so fucking sweet? I can’t keep up with it.
There’s nothing polite or clinical about the way he lifts my legs and props one foot on each of his shoulders. “The only way I’m not eating this pussy is if you tell me to stop, Winter.”
I stare at him. Pulse thrumming. Chest heaving. Lips parted.
And I don’t say a single thing.
I nod.
And just like all those months ago, he grins against my core and then latches on like he needs me more than the air he breathes.
There are no tentative tongue strokes, no holding back. He devours me, and the edges of my vision go blurry. My hands reach above my head, gripping the bench to hold myself back.
Theo suffers from no such concern. His hands roam all over my body. Stroking. Squeezing. He doesn’t hold back with me. Doesn’t treat me like I’m breakable, or like I need breaking.
He treats me like I’m perfect. Irresistible. Worthy.
With one hand clamped around my shaking thigh, he brings the other to my center and guides two fingers into me with an aching slowness. His tongue makes unhurried swipes at my clit, like he has nowhere else to be. Like his mind isn’t in a million other places.
I’m anticipating the slow stretch, the fullness that drives me wild. The patient kisses he presses to my thighs, to my stomach.
“Fuck, Theo.”
“How does that feel, Winter?”
I respond with a whimpery hum as I dig my fingers into the tacky seat. I’m holding on for dear life, like I’m on the precipice of something that terrifies me. My brain is too full, my heart too confused. All this sensation muddles me. It pulls me apart until I’m just a puddle for Theo to play with.
His fingers drag out and I can feel my wetness as he spreads it over my lips. “Not good enough?” he murmurs. “Guess I need to step up my game.”
My back arches and I cry out as he pushes back in with a third finger, or a fourth. I don’t even know, and I’m not about to look. All I know is it feels like a lot.
“How does it feel now?”
“So fucking good.” The words rush from my lips. “Don’t stop.”
I hear his pleased growl but keep my eyes fixed on the ceiling beams and the hanging industrial lights. Making eye contact with him right now might make me combust.
“How could I stop when I’m loving the way you look with my fingers stuffed inside you?”
Heat scorches my cheeks, and my hips buck toward him. Involuntarily. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
My brain has left the building. It’s only my body now. And my body wants Theo Silva. I give in and let go of the bench, reaching for him. My fingers tangle in his thick hair.
And just like before, my body lights up for him. I grind into his mouth, and he meets my thrusts with equal fervor.
He spears me with his tongue, fucks me with his fingers, and takes the odd bite of my oversensitive flesh any time I get close to tipping over the edge. My body soars when he takes a long, firm pull on my clit while shoving his fingers into me roughly.
“Theo.” I tug his hair. “Theo, I’m going to come.”
He pulls back for a beat, and I finally meet his dark, wild eyes, full of lust. “Nah. You don’t come, remember?”
He looks so smug.
“Keep going.” I ignore his jab, whining and trying to pull his face down. Acting as desperate as I feel.
“Admit it.” His fingers move again.
My head lowers back down on the bench. “Admit wh-what?” I stutter when he curls his fingers inside me and hits a spot that makes me see stars.
“That you only come for me. And that you fucking love it. All that snarling. All that unaffected nail-gazing. All those scowls. They all disappear when you have my face between your legs. I can fuck you happy, can’t I, Winter?”
“I hate you.” I glare at him, but there’s no malice. How can there be when he’s right?
His fingers push and twist and my body bows toward him like the deceitful little hussy it is.
“Admit it. Then I’ll let you come. Tell me what I need to hear.”
What he needs to hear? I’m panting, body pulled tight. I’m wound up to the point where I could burst.
So I admit it, as much to him as to myself.
“Theo, I only come for you and—”
He doesn’t let me finish before he’s back to devouring me, and within seconds, I burst. Just like I predicted.
A hot wave rolls through my body, and I give myself over to it. Thrashing in the heat. Relishing in the feel of a man who likes making me come, likes watching me fall apart for him.
He doesn’t push me too far. He doesn’t pull away too soon. He is so damn good at this.
So damn good to me.
I don’t just come. I come apart. I feel like I could break forever, over and over again, under the worshipping hands of Theo Silva.