Feel the Heat: A Contemporary Romance Anthology (36 page)

H
is mouth is
hot on mine, making me dizzy.

He freezes for a fraction of a second before his lips turn aggressive and demanding. The passion we’ve been keeping at bay, that had been simmering between us from the first time I saw him, explodes between us.

I press my body into him. Molding myself to him, sliding against him like he’s a missing puzzle piece. The click of him, falling into place, calms everything inside me, even while desire hums in my blood.

For the first time I trust myself. He’s exactly where I’m meant to be.

The kiss turns desperate. All the pent-up lust we’ve been ignoring for days, coming to a rapid boil. I want him, so, so badly.

More than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life.

He growls, low in his throat before he puts his hands on my hips and rips his mouth away. He whispers against my lips, “Ashley, we need to get out of here.”

Breathless, I nod. “Yes.”

He takes my hand, and leads me back to the table, just in time to see our food has arrived and the waiters are standing there, waiting of us to return to our seats.

Christopher glances at me. “Would you like to eat here? Or take it to go?”

I can’t explain, but I love that he asks me this. That he’s not assuming my preference because he’s ready to take me to bed. That my feelings, what I want and desire, matters to him. It confirms everything about my choice. I squeeze his fingers. “To go.”

He smiles, tugs me close, and brushes his mouth over mine. “Good. I’d rather your first orgasm be in private instead of at the table.”

I suck in a breath. He’d do it too. He wasn’t above it. And I like that about him too. With him I can be completely unrestrained, free and abandoned.

That’s what I crave about him.

Before I can answer he’s talking to the waiter. “Could we get this to go?”

The waiter’s expression doesn’t even flicker. “Of course, sir. Where would you like it sent?”

“Room 1428,” Christopher says, naming his room, and without waiting for confirmation he turns and we walk through the tables, and out the door.

He doesn’t speak as we wait for the elevator. When the door opens it’s full of people, and a muscle jumps in his jaw. We squeeze into the corner.

His hand slips from mine, sweeping over my waist, traveling over the base of my spine, before making his way to my hip where his fingers dig in, hot and possessive.

I gulp. Nerves, excitement and anticipation run thick in my veins.

He looks down at me.

Our gazes meet.

And, right here, in the elevator surrounded by too many people, something sweet and heart stopping fills the empty space that separates us.

I shiver with the knowledge of it, with the strength.

He palms me, his hand strong and steady, his eyes never leaving mine.

He’s not afraid. He wants this. Wants me.

I lick my lips.

Wants us.

And I want it too.

The chime for our floor finally dings, and the moment is over, and we’re leaving the crowded car for the emptiness of the hallway.

I hope this isn’t in my imagination. He’s like a dream. Everything I’ve ever wanted, ever needed.

We walk down the hall, and he opens the door with the keycard, and we enter a room that’s a replica of mine.

Now that I’ve made the first move, and the seal is broken, I find I’m unsure what to do next. I go stand by the balcony’s sliding glass doors. He’s left them open, and the warm tropical air brushes over my skin. He comes up behind me, cupping my shoulders, before skimming down the length of my arms, making goose bumps rise in his wake.

With one hand he sweeps my hair over a shoulder and brushes his lips down the curve of my neck, soft and unhurried.

My core tenses, my nipples pull tight.

The strength of my lust almost frightens me. Because I’m starting to fear the worst, that I’m falling too hard and too fast.

Against the shell of my ear, he says, “I can hear you thinking.”

“I’m nervous,” I admit, content to tell him the truth.

His hand wraps around my waist, and he presses an open-mouthed kiss to my throat. His tongue sweeps against my skin, making me gasp. “Why?”

I lick my lips. I can tell him things. I don’t need to hide my feelings. After so many years of playing it cool, of pretending, it’s a luxury I don’t take for granted. “The first time I didn’t know what it would be like between us, but now I know what I’m in store for.”

His fingers work the hem of my dress up my thighs. “And what are you in store for?”

I lean against him, seeping into his strong frame. “You’re going to rock my world. I’m going to be left sweaty and shaken.”

“And satisfied.” He squeezes my bare thigh. “Open for me, Ash.”

I spread my legs, and he traces the edge of my panties, white cotton and skimpy, and I moan.

“You leave me shaken too.” Slow, tortuous movements, back and forth, along the fabric seam, never going any farther.

I arch, desperate for him to go to where I need him so bad. “I do?”

Is that breathless, needy voice mine?

“Yes.” He works his way into the hem, sliding over my bare skin. His tongue presses into my pounding pulse. “I didn’t expect you either. I’m just grateful. I’m not going to question my good fortune.”

His fingers dip farther, and when he brushes over my clit I groan. It’s been an eternity since he touched me, and I’ve been waiting forever.

“You’re so wet, Ash.”

“For you.”

“Give me your mouth.” His voice is gruff, rasping along my skin. Driving me crazy.

I turn my head, lifting my chin, my lips already parted. The second our mouths meet, playtime is over.

We’re alone.

There’s nobody to stop us.

To interrupt.

And like our first night together, we go at it like we’re prisoners of war being fed our first meal.

His fingers begin a fast, relentless circle over the needy bud between my legs.

I cry into his mouth before kissing him harder. More urgently.

I turn.

His fingers leave me, and he growls, before he slams me up against the glass of the balcony.

I climb up him, desperate to get closer.

His head slants, deepening the melding of our mouths, and I seep into him.

I want more. Need him.

Unwilling to break the contact of our lips, I arch into him and he seems to understand because he takes my hips and thrusts against me. We rock, mouths hungry, our bodies greedy and mindless.

I want closer, but his cock feels so good against my aching center I don’t think to pull away. His hips grind into me, pushing me closer and closer and closer to orgasm.

God, not like this. I manage to rip away and gasp. “Please stop. You’re going to make me come.”

He fists my hair in his hand and yanks. “You’re going to come all night, over and over.”

“Yes. I—” His kiss cuts me off, and my thoughts scatter.

We attack each other like we’re something feral and not quite human.

He picks me up and my legs wrap around his waist. He stumbles us to the bed, and we tumble down on it.

He rips away, skimming over my body with his hot, hungry mouth. He yanks down the straps of my dress and then his mouth is on my breast.

He sucks deep and I cry out, tugging him closer, urging him on.

He laves my nipple with his tongue, and roughly pushes his hand between my legs.

“Christopher.” His name rings out on the air, sounding lost and vulnerable and so needy, but I don’t even care, because it’s exactly how I feel.

I don’t want to hide it. I want him to feel every ounce of my desire.

He makes a sound in the back of his throat and jerks my dress the rest of the way down my body.

“Yes, god yes,” I call out. Lost in the feel of his mouth and hands. “More. I want your cock.”

“Fuck.” The word is guttural. Then he’s rearing up and stripping the shirt from his chest.

I kick away my panties, as he shucks out of his pants. He grabs a condom from the nightstand drawer and rips the foil open before sliding the latex over his erection.

Then he’s covering me. His mouth demanding. Insistent.

Making me mindless.

He lifts his lips and says against mine, “This isn’t my plan.”

I arch my hips. “I don’t care. I just want you inside me so bad.”

“You drive me so damn crazy.” He shifts, his cock rubbing along my slick, swollen opening.

I grasp his hips, letting my nails sink into his skin. “Take me. Please take me.”

He growls. “You’re going to make this up to me.”

“Yes. Later.” I bow up at the exact moment he slams home.

We both groan at the connection.

Nothing has ever felt as good as him. I grip him harder, raising my knees so he’s deeper.

He grasps my hips and thrusts.

I keen as sensation crests over my skin. “Harder. Please.”

He picks up speed. “Open your eyes.”

I blink open and our gazes lock.

His expression is harsh, the bones of his cheeks a slash across his face. He pounds into me. “Mine.”

“Yes.” It’s not just a word he’s saying, it’s a primal promise, and it sinks into my chest and heart, filling me up in a way I’ve never experience before.

He moves harder.

Faster.

Deeper.

We never look away. I don’t know if I even blink.

Because I’m captivated by him.

Everything about him speaks to a place inside me I’ve kept locked away and hidden.

My body clamps down and then I’m coming. The orgasm rising and breaking over my skin, crashing through my body, in hard, rhythmic waves that have me crying out, my voice hoarse and broken as the most intense climax I’ve ever had steals the very breath from me.

He groans, kisses my lips, and then loses himself in pleasure, my name sweet on his lips, seeping into my heart, into blood, into my very soul.

I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

In Christopher’s arms.

And I never want him to let me go.

I
wake
in the dead of night, cold without Ashley pressed to my side. Eyes closed, my hand reaches to the other side of the king-size bed to find it empty. I jerk into a state of hyper alertness, bolting upright and glancing wildly around the room, searching for her in the dark.

Unease crawls over my skin, I flick on the light, finding the room empty. I look toward the bathroom to find the door open, the space dark.

She’s not here.

Why would she leave?

After the night we’d had?

It had been better than the first time, and I’d believed that impossible to top. We knew each other now. I care about her, I want to be with her, and it turns out everyone is right, feelings do make sex better.

I’d taken her over and over again. In the bed, on the floor, on the dresser, in the shower, water streaming down our backs. On the balcony, I’d taken her from behind, her fingers clenched on the rails, my hand over her mouth to quell her cries.

Later, back on the bed, I’d looked deep into her eyes as she’d orgasmed around my cock, and I’d kissed away tears that slipped onto her cheeks. When I’d asked her why she’d been crying she’d shaken her head and said she didn’t know.

And I understood.

What happened in this room was beyond sex. Beyond attraction and chemistry. Deep down where it mattered most, Ashley feels like she belongs to me.

I know she felt it too. It was in the expression on her face, the devotion in her blue eyes, the skim of her hand down my back, and the way she gave herself to me utterly and completely. Without reservation.

So, where in the hell is she?

I picked up the phone and called her room but there is no answer.

I dial her cell only to be met by her voicemail.

My heartbeat kicks up hard in my chest and I get up, storming around the room, looking for any clue as to where she’s gone.

I don’t care if she runs; I’m coming for her.

I don’t care if she’s older than me, or about her quest to give up men and find herself. She’s already found herself, with me.

If she insists, I’ll wait the year for her. I do not care. I’ll throw myself into work until she’s ready, but I will have her.

I drag a hand through my hair and go out on the balcony, hoping the air will cool my head allow me to think. I grip iron, letting it bite into my skin as I stare out over the beach and crashing waves.

And that’s when I spot her, out in the distance.

Her shoulders are slumped, her arms curved protectively around herself and she’s staring into the water. She’s wearing the dress from last night and she’s standing there, looking out into the fathomless ocean.

She doesn’t look happy.

Worry storms through me, furious and frantic, and in that moment it dawns on me how much I care about her. How much she’s come to mean to me in this short time. And how much I want her in my life.

I think I’m in love with her.

I’ve always followed my instincts. Always trusted my feelings. And I know what is burning a hole inside me.

It’s love. Everyone will think I’m crazy, but I don’t care. Ashley is it for me, and I’m going to trust my fucking gut.

I turn from the scene, and as fast as I can, I get dressed and I’m out the door.

I’m getting my girl.

* * *

I
clutch my phone
, my shoulders shaking as I sob, staring into the vast ocean. I have to go soon. My flight is in four hours, the first available, and I have to force myself to move from this spot.

But I can’t. I’m not ready.

Because I know once I move, life is going to take over, and all this will end. It will be like a dream that never happened.

The universe, it appears, only has a short respite in mind for me. After I’d fallen into an exhausted sleep I’d woken by the sound of my phone going off. My stomach sank, because at four in the morning, I’d known it hadn’t been good news.

It was my mom, my dad suffered a minor heart attack and he was in the hospital. The doctor said he was going to be okay, but I can tell by the tremble of her voice she’s scared.

So it’s time to go. My family—my dad—needs me.

I need to be with them. But I know what it means.

This time with Christopher has come to an end. I’m not going to be given the luxury of the rest of the week.

I need to go and he needs to stay.

Now I need to make my feet move. All I need to do is take the steps. I need to pack. And then I need to say goodbye.

I’m not going to slink away this time. I’m going to face Christopher, because my feelings deserve that. At least I’ve learned that much in this brief time. I might be destined to pick men I can’t have, but I’m done pretending to play some stupid game in order to trap them into staying with me.

Someone grips my arm and swings me around.

I scream, fling out my hand in instinct to ward him off, only for my other wrist to be restrained.

Heart pounding out of my chest, I look up into Christopher’s angry face. “Ashley.”

As soon as my stomach leaps with joy, I promptly burst into tears.

His brow furrows but he pulls me close and wraps his arms tight around me. “Baby, what’s wrong? Tell me so I can fix it.”

It’s so like him. What makes him so wonderful. I need to step away but I can’t yet, because he makes me feel safe. Like I can do anything as long as he’s with me.

Which is crazy, but true.

He rubs my back in slow, soothing circles. “Ssshhhh. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I think I love him.

I don’t trust it, or me, because I’m so foolish when it comes to my feelings, but I know I’ve never felt anything like this before. All the years I wasted on Trevor are just that—a waste—nothing compared to Christopher.

I hiccup against his chest and burrow in closer. “M-my d-dad had a heart attack.”

Immediately he stiffens.

Tears fall down my cheeks as I steel myself. I didn’t want to tell him because I know how responsible he is, and I don’t want him to be obligated.

“Ash, Christ, I’m sorry.” He kisses the top of my head and then he goes directly into doctor mode. “Tell me everything you know about his condition. Where is he? Who’s the doctor? I’ll call Cam and we’ll find out if we can get him moved to make sure he has the best care.”

Cameron, Christopher’s oldest brother is a cardiologist, one of the best heart surgeons in the city.

I pull Christopher closer. “They live in Ohio. He’s okay. It was minor and they say he’s going to be all right if he does what he’s supposed to do, but my mom is scared. I need to go be with them. My plane is in four hours. I need to get packed so I can leave.”

He tilts my chin and forces me to look into his handsome face. “You scared me. I thought you’d left again.” He kisses me. “Let’s go. We’ll figure out what needs to be done, we’ll get him moved to Chicago and I promise between my father and brother he will get the best care money can buy.”

“Thank you.” I suck in a breath and blow it out. This is it. I don’t want it to come, but here it is. I need to let him off the hook. “You’re so sweet, but you need to stay and finish your conference. This isn’t your problem. He’ll be okay, my dad’s a fighter and he’ll make it. You don’t have to worry about me. Stay and have fun.”

He pulls back and grips my arms, shaking his head. “Ashley,
you
are my problem. I’m coming with you.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.” I bite my lip and look away. “I appreciate it. Really I do, but it’s not necessary.”

He drops his arms and takes a step back. “What exactly are you saying?”

I hug myself, already missing his warmth. “I’m saying you need to stay.”

“Is that what you want?”

I want to tell him the truth. I want to lay my feelings bare for him. But he’s not like Trevor this way. Trevor would take any excuse to run out on a bad situation, he’d back away as fast as he could from anything that even hinted at feelings. But Christopher isn’t like that. He’s caring. He’s responsible and ethical. If I tell him I want him to come with me, he’ll feel obligated. I don’t want that for him.

I look beyond his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. Maybe this is the way things need to be. Maybe a couple of crazy days in paradise is all we get. It’s not like we have a future together.”

“And why don’t we have a future?” His voice is soft.

I shiver against it and shake my head a little. “I mean, come on, think about it. You’ve got a crazy schedule. You need to focus on your residency and then you’ll be starting your career. That’s what you need to focus on. I’m five years older than you are. You’re a doctor; you understand the reality of my situation. I don’t have a lot of time to waste anymore. It’s biology, and if I want to think about having kids, I need to think about these things.”

I steel myself. I mentioned the K word. A word bound to send any guy screaming in panic.

“That’s bullshit.” The words are hard hits to the chest and I jerk my attention to him. He points at me. “You’re terrified because you know this is real.”

“I—”

He cuts me off. “I’m going to ask you a simple question and you’re going to give me the truth, do you understand?”

Hope and fear flutter in my chest. “Okay.”

He grips my chin and holds my jaw so that I can’t look away. “Do you love me?”

The question shocks me. My pulse speeds up and I sputter. “T-that’s ridiculous. We hardly know each other.”

“Answer the question, Ashley. Do you love me?”

Panic speeds through my blood at two hundred miles per hour. “I did answer. We haven’t known each other a week. How could you even ask such an insane question?”

His eyes glint. “It’s a yes-or-no question. If the answer is no, tell me. But don’t fucking lie to me. Yes or no. Do you love me?”

The “no” trembles on my lips, fighting to get free, because I want so badly to do right by him. A war wages inside me, I don’t want him to feel obligated to me. I don’t want him to be tied to me when that’s not what he wants. But I want to tell him the truth.

For once, in my stupid, sorry life I want to tell someone how I really feel.

And just like that the fight seeps out of me. My shoulders slump. My jaw loosens. And I understand. It doesn’t matter. What he does or feels or how he responds isn’t the point.

I’m
the point. And I want to be truthful. I want to risk it all. Because I’m never going to be happy until I realize the only person I can control is me.

I deserve the chance.

Tears fill my eyes. “Yes. I love you.”

No qualifications. No caveats. No excuses. Just a simple, straightforward answer with no apologies.

His grip softens, and his fingers run down my jaw to curl around my neck. He leans down and kisses me softly before whispering against my lips, “I love you too.”

I clutch at his shoulders, my throat too tight to speak.

“I know it’s crazy and I don’t care.” He kisses me again. “All I want is to be with you. Everything else will just have to work itself out.”

I nod and choke out, “Okay.” The words tremble at my lips and I say them, not caring that they sound needy. I am needy. And that’s okay. “Do you promise?”

“I promise.” His lips meet mine, stealing my breath and my heart in one fraction of a second. I feel his commitment, deep down, sinking into my bones.

He lifts his head. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

I nod.

“I’ll take care of everything, okay? You just focus on your dad and your family.” He sweeps my hair back and feathers a touch over my cheek.

I see it in his eyes; he wants to do this. Wants to take care of me in my time of crisis. Wants to relieve my burden instead of add to it. I mold myself against him, loving his solid, steady strength. How he grounds and centers me. I make him my own promise. “You won’t be sorry.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to do everything in my power to make you a happy man.”

He cocks a grin at me, my boyish devil. He winks. “I’ll remind you of that promise when I want to name our first child something weird, like Boa Constrictor.”

Oh my god, he wants kids. With me. Inwardly I scream with glee while I bat at his arm. “Like you’re going to get any say in that.”

“Oh no?” He chuckles and grabs my hand, and we start walking up the beach.

I spin, walking backwards so I can look at him. “Like any girl I’ve had my children’s names picked out since I was six.”

He groans.

I laugh. “So you’re already sorry?”

He tugs, and I tumble into his arms where he kisses me long and deep, promising me absolutely everything I have ever wanted. He pulls away and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Never. You’re mine. And we’re in this together.”

“Good.” It’s settled then.

It’s back to my real life. Only better, because it’s with him.