Authors: Sierra Hill
She was seething as she went back to the bar and grabbed another beer. Sensing that Mitch was standing behind her, she stepped back and forcefully elbowed him in the chest.
“Ouch - what the hell was that for?” he asked, rubbing the spot where her elbow had slammed into him.
“Seriously? That thing you said to Tully” she whispered in a frantic hush. “You made it sound like I am some kind of a whore and you are paying for my
services
.” She brushed past him, hissing an “asshole” under her breath and walked towards the outer terrace to watch the action on the field.
Mitch followed her to the stairs, gingerly limping down each step. Sitting down in the leather stadium chair next to her, he watched the anger slowly dissipate from her furrowed brow.
Placing his beer bottle in the seat holder, he ran his fingers through his hair and let out a loud sigh. “Shit. I’m sorry if it sounded like I was implying something other than the truth, but I got pissed off at how you were flirting with him. You were making googly eyes at Tully and I didn’t like it. Apparently I was little jealous…and I didn’t like it.”
A laugh erupted from Rylie, as the rest of the stadium cheered at an interception that had just been made by the Dolphins.
“Googly eyes?” she asked, giggling harder. “I wouldn’t even know what googly eyes are, much less be able to make them! But seriously, you left me hanging out to dry back there. I don’t know who the hell this Tully guy is, but he was looking at me like I’m his favorite candy. It was kind of creepy. And now I have to be expected to hang with him tomorrow? That’s just great.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can rearrange some of my meetings tomorrow so you won’t have to go alone.”
Mitch leaned over in his seat, his arm coming up behind Rylie’s head, his breath coming out in a hot puff in her ear. “I can’t say I blame the man, though,” he said, his voice low and thick. “You are as sweet as candy.”
Rylie turned to face him, as he gave her a sexy, lopsided grin. His smile made her stomach do backflips and it turned
her on to hear him say it. But there was no way she’d ever admit it to him. Instead, she did the only thing that came naturally in a situation like this. Rylie shoved him with her shoulder and then turned to punch him in the arm.
The bright morning sun poured in through the plantation shutters that covered the windows in her bedroom. As her eyes adjusted to the glaring light, she could smell the aroma of French Roast wafting from her open window, coming from somewhere below. Pushing back the covers, she got out of bed and stepped over to the balcony, opening the shutters to listen to the sounds coming from below. Some sort of rhythmic Calypso or Merengue music played softly from outside. Never having tried Salsa or Zumba dance, much to Sasha’s dismay, she wasn’t quite sure which of the musical genres it came from, but she found the up tempo rhythm got her blood pumping.
Stepping back into the bedroom, Rylie decided she’d need to shower and brush her teeth before joining Mitch downstairs. She assumed he was still in the house, since they had decided the previous night that they’d conduct his therapy session at eight before he left for his offsite meetings. She glanced at the clock on her night table, which indicated it was six-thirty.
She’d slept well, after finally falling asleep the night before. The game had ended in a loss for the Dolphins, and Rylie had carried that heavy feeling of loss with her as they drove back to Biscayne Bay. She had ridden a roller coaster of emotions throughout the evening, starting from surprised and excited when she learned about the football game and the luxury suite, moving into irritated and annoyed with the stupid male games being played between Tully and Mitch, and finally culminating in sense of loss, from something deep within her that she couldn’t quite articulate when the evening came to an end.
Mitch had seemed reserved and reticent on their way home to the rental, saying only a few words to her the entire ride back. He had avoided any physical contact with her the remainder of the game, she’d noticed, which had not been his
M.O. since the day she met him. The ten thousand square-foot home vibrated with an emptiness and a quiet so loud it hurt her ears when they entered, even with the lights illuminating the beautifully decorated rooms.
“Do you have everything you need tonight?” he asked softly, placing his keys on the hall table as they stepped into the foyer.
Rylie shook her head. “Yeah, I’m good thanks. Well, maybe I’ll just go get a glass of water before I head to bed.” She started toward the kitchen when his hand came out unexpectedly to lightly grab her wrist. Even though it was barely a second, the touch ignited her.
“No, I’ll get it for you,” he said softly, a tinge of apology wrapped around his words. “I think I saw some cold bottles in the fridge.”
“Thanks.”
Standing in the hallway waiting for him to return, it became very apparent just how alone in the house they were together. Just the two of them. No one else. No one to prevent anything happening between two consenting adults.
She swallowed a hard, nervous gulp of air as he returned with the bottle. Would he try to make a move on her tonight? If so, would she let him? God, he was so confusing. One minute he was playing with her, telling her in no uncertain terms that he wanted her, and then the next minute he’s stoic and silent, almost resentful toward her being there. But that was crazy, right?
He gave her a look of concern. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah…it’s just been a really long day. I’m tired and think I’ll head to bed.”
He seemed to ponder her response, shifting from one leg to the other. “Of course. Do you need me to wake you tomorrow morning?”
She suddenly had the image of him rolling over in her bed, waking her with his hand caressing her face and his mouth making a wet path up and down her body. It was exactly for that reason that she had to make her escape and head to her bedroom, to get away from him and this insane attraction.
Rylie ran a hand through her hair, which she’d taken out of the ponytail when they got home and told him that she didn’t need to be awakened, she had her iPhone alarm. And honestly, she was an early riser and woke with even the little bit of sunlight.
“You have gorgeous hair,” Mitch said, as he stepped toward her and twisted a few silky strands in his hand. “I like it when you wear it down.”
Did the air conditioning just shut off, because damn it was hot in
here!
Rylie felt the heat rise as if an inferno streaked through her body. She unscrewed the cap of her water bottle and took an ice-cold gulp, noticing the small shake of her hand as she did.
After a very long minute, Mitch let go of her hair and stood back. His hazel eyes turned dark and heavy with desire.
He inched closer. Rylie felt the heat from his body transferring to hers. He spoke low and arrogantly. “Just so you know…I’m not going to kiss you good night.”
She blinked. “Oh,” she whispered, sounding disappointed. “Okay.”
“Do you want to know why?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Um…sure. Why?” She was feeling a bit out of breath. Her mouth was dry and parched, despite the water she just drank. She wanted to taste him on her.
“Because if I kiss you goodnight, Rylie, you won’t want it to end,” he said, his finger coming up to softly brush her cheek. “You’d want more. You’d want me to take you to your bed to fuck you. With my fingers, and then my tongue…and then with me inside of you. You’d want me to make you come and you’d scream my name each time you did. And believe me, I would do that to you. But if I did that, you wouldn’t get
any sleep, because I would make you come. All. Night. Long. And since I know you’re very tired tonight, after a very long day, I’m only thinking of your well-being. That’s why I’m not going to kiss you goodnight.”
He grabbed the bottle from her trembling hand, as she stood there with a glossy-eyed look on her face, to take a long drink. Replacing the cap, Mitch handed it back to her, placing it back in her hands.
His fingers wrapped around hers, wet from the bottle’s condensation. She shivered from the extreme sensation between the hot and cold. His words had the heat building and pooling between her legs. Simply from the words he said and nothing more. They were naughty and dirty and turned her on like no one’s business. This whole sexual reverse psychology really worked on her. Because if she didn’t think she wanted it before, she sure as hell wanted him now.
She felt something hard behind her. He had somehow backed her up against the wall as he’d been talking and his body leaned into her, his hands placed on the wall on the sides of her head. His lips, still cold and wet from the water, came down to barely touch the shell of her ear.
“So goodnight, IQ. I hope you get some rest tonight, because you’re going to need it for what I have planned for you for the remainder of our trip.” Pushing himself away, Mitch turned to head to his room, leaving Rylie staring after him, out of breath and panting as if she’d run a marathon.
For obvious reasons, Rylie couldn’t fall asleep as quickly as she’d hoped and sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned, annoyed with herself and with Mitch, because she
had
wanted him to kiss her. She longed for the taste of him again. For his tongue to slide into her mouth, to kiss her until she was writhing with need. And he knew that, the bastard. So instead of giving her what he knew she wanted, he smugly left her with a low torturous ache pulsing between her legs, wishing for a different ending to the night.
If only cold showers could work on women as effectively as they did for men, then she wouldn’t have been laying there drenched in sweat with thoughts of Mitch’s teasing smile and the satisfied look on his face when he left her, running through her head. She imagined she would see that very same grin as he was coming apart inside of her.
Gah
.
The ache between her legs became unbearable and all she could think about was how it would feel for Mitch’s
stubbled jaw to outline a path down
there
. For his fingers to press deep inside of her, finding that perfect spot where he’d push and stroke her until she was writhing with ecstasy. Rylie flipped over to her stomach, letting out a groan of frustration, her pillow drowning out her sounds.
Her hands pushed down through the tangle of sheets, feeling the warmth between her thighs. Mitch’s words came flooding back to her, sensual and hot.
You’d want me to take you to your bed to fuck you. With my fingers, and my tongue.
Rylie’s own fingers slid beneath the fabric of her panties, moving over the soft, delicate skin.
With me inside you. You’d want me to make you come and you’d call out my name each time you did.
She felt hot and slick, feeling his words on her body, caressing her. She imagined Mitch’s fingers touching her, sinking deep within her. His lips replacing his fingers, sucking on her as she started to feel the pending eruption.
Applying pressure at the juncture of her smooth folds, her fingers circled in a rhythmic cadence, as she panted breathlessly in the darkness of the room. Her hips ground against her hand, her heart pounding faster, the tension building from deep within her core. Her breath caught with the anticipation of what was to come, as she finally began to unravel, the sensation ripping through her body like a cord being pulled and let loose.
She let out a muffled groan against the pillow, as her much needed release sent her floating back down into the bed. As her eyes began to finally close with the pull of sleep, her last thought before drifting off was wanting what she just had, but with Mitch. And somehow she knew that it would be a hundred times more explosive and intense with his hands and mouth at her service.
Now in the morning light, dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a white tank, Rylie blushed as she recalled the manner in which she fell asleep the previous night and felt a tinge of nerves, curious if Mitch might see it written all over her face. Would he know he had such an effect on her that she had to take matters into her own hands? That he left her wanting for something she knew she couldn’t have?
Her mind then considered the possibility that maybe he had also been in the same boat as she last night and maybe he got himself off, too. Her face flushed with the image of Mitch jerking off in the room down the hall from hers, feeling the same explosion she did in her release. She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling as she stepped out onto the terrace, where Mitch was sitting at a patio table, coffee and breakfast set for two.
His eyes roamed up her body and his trademark grin, dimple and all, told her he was glad to see her and that however the night ended between them last night was in the past.
“Well don’t you look all relaxed and happy this morning, IQ. Glad to see you got some rest.” Mitch put down the iPhone he’d been reading and poured her some coffee. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like. I can also make you whatever you want for breakfast.”
She was surprised by his gesture. “You can cook?”
“Come on now. Every bachelor should at the very least know how to scramble some eggs and fry up some bacon. But my true specialty is Apple Bourbon French Toast. That’s the best damn breakfast you’ll ever taste.” He set down the coffee carafe and placed a napkin on her lap, his fingers barely grazing her exposed thigh. But it was enough to send her a jolt of electricity and to sit up straight.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she laughed, grabbing a bagel and slathering it with cream cheese. “But it does sound pretty good.”
“Trust me, it’s heaven. You’ll find out soon enough.”
She twisted in her chair, feeling a bit uncomfortable from the weight of his words and the promise of things to come. Maybe she was just reading into it now, but it seemed like everything he said was prepping her for something bigger. More intimate.
She choked down a bite of bagel and took a sip of orange juice, berating herself for thinking anything of the sort. She tried to get her thoughts on something other than Mitch and scanned the scenery out in front of her, the ocean and bay glistening in the morning sun. A few sailboats lined the horizon, with their colorful sails hoisted high, and a cruise ship inched further from land out in the far off distance. She loved the water and smell of the ocean air. It made her head hum with satisfaction.
Mitch followed her gaze and seemed to know what she was thinking.
“I grew up on the water. Learned to sail by the time I was ten. My father would take me out, teach me how to appreciate the ocean and learn how never to underestimate the volatility and unpredictability of its nature.”
“You know how to sail?” she asked, now more curious than ever to learn more about him.
“Yep. In fact, I thought we could go out on the yacht later today and out to Key Biscayne after my meetings and after your, uh,
tour
with Tully.”
Rylie frowned at the mention of the tour, but then did a happy dance in her chair. “Oh, I’d love that. So, were you able to move some of your appointments? I feel bad you’d have to do that for me,” she said, wearing an expression of guilt. “I’m sure it’ll be just fine. I teach
Krav Maga classes, for God’s sake. I’m pretty sure I can handle a frisky little perv like Tully if he gets out of hand.”
Mitch put down his coffee and raised his eyebrow at her. “You teach,
what
?”
“
Krav Maga. It’s a self-defense martial arts class. I started close to three years ago. I love it – it’s such a rush.”