Beneath These Scars Page 38

“What—”

“I can’t fucking look at a countertop these days, especially not in my own damn kitchen, without wanting you naked and bent over it.”

I heard the tearing of a condom packet, and the heat that had just begun to fade spiked to an even higher degree. I remembered the feel of Titan pushing his thick cock into me, stretching me, taking me.

As much as I should have hated it, I’d loved it.

He was confident, commanding, and while he pushed my buttons, he didn’t trigger any of my freak-outs. It made absolutely no sense, but I wasn’t going to question it. Because right now, I was going to get the repeat performance I’d been fantasizing about for days.

“Speak now, or my cock is going to be inside you in less than two seconds.”

“Hurry up. Two seconds is too long,” I shot back.

A hot palm pressed to the small of my back, and I arched at the contact. He seated the head of his cock against my entrance, and I pushed back, wanting him inside me, but the hand on my back held me in place.

I felt his breath on my ear before I heard his words. “I decide how, Yve. How hard I take you. How many times I fuck you. How many times you come. You get me?”

“Yes, goddamn it!”

“Good girl.”

His teeth closed over my earlobe as he pressed inside me. I’d expected hard and fast, but what I got was slow, delectable, and mind-blowing. Once he was buried to the hilt, Titan straightened. He wrapped one hand around each of my hips and started to move.

Every slide of his body into mine lit up all the pleasure centers in my brain. It was like Titan’s cock had a magical locator system that pinpointed my G-spot and hit it repeatedly.

And this explained why I remembered his kitchen countertop so fondly and frequently—it had been some of the best sex of my life. Maybe the best.

“Are you going to be thinking of me fucking you right here, when you’re ringing up customers tomorrow? Are you going to remember how tight your pussy was wrapped around my cock and how loud you screamed my name?”

Before his voice and his words had been a distraction from getting to the edge where I could fling myself over into oblivion, but now, Lucas Titan’s voice had become a trigger all by itself. His dirty words pushed me faster and harder toward the point of no return.

“Answer me, Yve. Tell me you’re going to remember this.”

“Yes, damn it. Now make me come.”

“You know the rules, sweetheart. You’re going to ask me like a good little girl.”

“I should tell you to go fuck yourself.”

“But I like fucking you so much more.”

“Bastard.”

“Gorgeous, stubborn woman.”

His words—more flattering than condescending—pushed me even closer to the breaking point.

“Hold on,” he said, then shifted positions and pulled me back off the counter so he could slide a hand under and reach my clit.

“Oh my God.” I moaned the instant he made contact. I wouldn’t last much longer. Not between the angle of his cock dragging against my G-spot and this added mind-blowing pleasure.

“You know what you need to do,” he reminded me without slowing his thrusts, and now adding the most exquisite kind of pressure.

My eyes fluttered shut and my body clamped down on him. I was so close. And then he stilled.

“Please,” I cried.

“Good enough.” Titan’s voice was husky and rough, but he wasted no time in resuming his pace—steady and sure—until I shattered.

This time I bit my lip so I didn’t scream at all, just let the sensations wash over me, wave after wave. Titan let out a roar that would have worried me about waking the neighbors if we’d been anywhere but a couple of blocks off Bourbon Street in a city that never stopped partying.

We both stilled, our heaving breaths the only sounds inside the store. As the crazed intensity of the moment drained away, the reality of what I’d just done set in.

Really professional, Yve. You’re one hell of a businesswoman.

Even now I could feel the sweat dripping off my forehead onto the counter where I plied my trade—not the flesh trade. Classy, indeed.

But I’d invited him here. Part of me had known that this could happen. Would happen.

Titan pushed away from the counter and pulled free of my body.

Would this ever not be ridiculously awkward? With every other one-night stand or fling, I’d developed an easy camaraderie that made this no big deal, but with Titan, it was different.

I levered myself up and searched around for my shorts and tank top. Luckily both were within easy reach. I was already pulling them on when he returned from the little bathroom in the back. He’d zipped his shorts and he’d never taken off his fancy college T-shirt.

Why is this more awkward than last time? It made no sense. Because I couldn’t run? Because we were on my turf?

Titan didn’t seem to feel the awkwardness I did. He looked marginally disappointed at the fact that I was no longer naked.

I grabbed my torn panties off the floor and held them up. “Was this really necessary?”

He smirked, not the least bit contrite. “Seemed the most expedient choice at the time.”

I shoved them in my pocket, not wanting to take the chance of having to explain them to JP in the morning if she happened to check the trash.

“Well, um, thanks for the help,” I said. Smooth, Yve. Really smooth.

Titan’s gaze landed on me and held. “Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry?”

“It’s not like we both didn’t know how this would go.”

“And if I’m not done with you?”

“You don’t have much choice now, do you?”

Titan’s expression hardened. “And if I told you I want you to come home with me?”

I thought for a moment about that big claw-foot tub, and being astride the man in front of me while in it. Would he agree to that? Did I dare try?

No. I was keeping this simple. My terms. I say when. I say where. And I needed to go home, regroup, and get myself together.

“I’d say you’re out of luck.”

“Fine. Where’s your car? I’ll walk you out.” His tone was curt, but the gesture was thoughtful . . . and one I wished he’d skipped.

“Car’s at the shop. It’s gonna be a long walk.”

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