Text Appeal (16 page)

I love you.

Yes, he wanted her for himself, and that want was made all the more intense by her feelings for him. If Riley had fallen for him, she must have seen him as more than the womanizer she’d accused him of being. She must have seen him for more than the kid from the wrong side of the tracks
who
had some luck at the poker table.

Her sigh was heavy, and Charlie found himself wondering if it was confusion or regret weighing it down. “I don’t think
Chaz
is the man I thought he was.”

“We rarely are,” he said softly, his eyes drifting to the subpoena papers on his desk. If Angela had really known what kind of man Charlie was, she wouldn’t have bothered with this legal bullshit. If she’d had a clue what he was about, she would have owned up to the secret she’d kept from him for sixteen years and asked him to do the tests. “Anything specific bring this to your attention?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she said.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t want to talk at all. I just want…I want to stop being a coward.”

“Riley, you are no coward. In fact, you’re—”

“I have to go, Charlie.” The line went dead, and Charlie was left cussing at an empty room.

He pulled a hand over his face. She had him tied up in knots, and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure what to do next.

He looked at the papers from Angela. It had been interesting meeting “Derrick” today. Riley wasn’t the only part of his life where he’d been dealt a hand he wasn’t sure how to play, and every good poker player knows decisions need to be made with confidence.

Five minutes later, his phone beeped, alerting him to a text message.
I’m downstairs.

His stomach clenched.
Riley.
God, every time he pictured her face, he grew hard, still imagining her placing the vibrator between her legs last night. He liked knowing she’d been thinking of
him
, not some asshole kind-of boyfriend, when she came.

And now she was here.

Chapter Eleven

“I was going to come to your room,” Riley whispered to Charlie when the elevator doors opened.

She’d grabbed a key from housekeeping that would get her into Charlie’s suite because the elevators wouldn’t go to the penthouse floors without it. Stairs weren’t an option. She was able to take the stairs to her office every day because, in the executive tower, the alarm wasn’t programmed to sound if the stairs were used. In the penthouse tower, on the other hand, the standard automatic door alarm was still engaged. Those stairs were for fire escape only. Opening the doors would wake every living creature in the place…probably some dead ones too.

She looked at Charlie’s face.
His soft smile, those ice blue eyes turning darker as he stared at her.
This was about more than a fire alarm.

Riley had wasted two years betting everything on a man who had offered nothing in return, and seeing him with that woman hurt. But she’d also been a little…relieved.

When Charlie called her and she realized her phone had been
mis
-programmed, she’d wanted to come here, she’d wanted to prove to herself that she could be wild, that she could live in the moment just once.

She’d come knowing she’d have to get in that elevator. She’d come wanting to face that almost as much as she wanted to be with Charlie.

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” she said.

From inside the elevator, Charlie extended a hand.

She shook her head. “But I am,” she whispered. “I want to so much. But I can’t.”

“Look at me.”

His Oxford shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and he’d rolled his sleeves to his elbows, exposing thick, muscular forearms.

He was beautiful—sexy, with hungry eyes that devoured her from where he stood. The way he looked at her—ran his eyes over her, lingering on her hips, her breasts—was erotic and every bit as effective as if his fingers touched each place his eyes lingered.

During their short phone conversation, her sluggish brain had clicked together all the pieces and rewritten history—sexy texts in her office from
Charlie
, instructions to touch herself with her vibrator from
Charlie.

The decision to come to him—to
be with him—
had been the easiest
Riley
had ever made.

It was a damn shame the elevator stood between her and that objective.

Charlie took a step forward. Framed by the elevator’s gaping mouth, he pressed one hand against the door and extended the other to her.

She looked into his eyes and took his hand. She could do this.

She stepped into the elevator and jumped as the doors slid closed behind her.

“You are so much braver than you think,” he said, his breath against her ear.

The space was too small.
The walls too solid.
There wasn’t enough room.

“Riley, close your eyes.”

She gasped and blinked. There wasn’t enough air. She had to get out.

She eyed the ceiling for the panels people always climbed through in the movies, but when she lifted her gaze, the ceiling dropped two feet closer to her head. Her stomach pitched.

“Close your eyes, Riley.”

She couldn’t breathe. Air wasn’t entering her lungs. She clawed at the neckline of her shirt. She had to—

Charlie’s warm hand slid under her shirt and he pulled her back against him. “Relax.”

“I can’t relax. You don’t understand. I’m—”

He swept her hair over her shoulder and pressed his mouth her neck. “Close your eyes for me.” His voice was deeper, softer, his breath against her ear.

She let her lids drift closed and irrationally wished he had done this in her office earlier. Her office, the hall, the restaurant, the middle of the street—anywhere but closed up and trapped inside this—

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop. You’re not doing yourself any favors.”

“What...what do you want me to think about?” she asked, feeling her panic rise again. She kept her eyes closed. If she couldn’t see the walls, she could breathe. She couldn’t risk opening them now.

He slid his hand further around her, circled her navel with his thumb. “Think of something that relaxes you,” he said, moving his hand to brush the underside of her breasts. “Think of why you came to me. And relax.”

Oh, boy.
This
certainly didn’t relax her. Her pulse spiked but not in the
thready
panicked way of ninety seconds ago. This was a powerful spike.
The kind that sent signals to the brain to pump more blood and to pump it all to her breasts, nipples, and the sweet, hungry spot between her legs—ASAP.

“What makes your mind go blank and your muscles turn to jelly?”

His mouth traced the line of her neck. Not kissing, exactly, not even tasting. More like sampling the texture of her skin. The action made her feel beautiful and wanted. Heat pooled low in her belly followed by moisture between her legs.

“God, you smell good,” he whispered against her ear.

Suddenly, she was against the wall and Charlie’s mouth was on hers.

Her fingers curled into his biceps.

His tongue slipped past her lips and his thumb traced the edge of her jaw. Her shoulders relaxed, and she opened under him, turned into the kiss and tasted him.

Charlie tasted of breath mints and hot, delicious male. And as he kissed her—
God,
could he kiss—bubbles of nervous pleasure tickled her belly and spread a shiver all the way to her fingertips.

She slipped her hands to his waist and yanked his shirt from his jeans. She wanted to feel the heat of his skin, wanted to scrape her nails over that taut stomach. Hell, she wanted to go further south but she’d take this as a starting point.

“Riley.” His breath was hot against her ear as he spoke. “We’re here.” His hand was on her breast now, his thumb teasing her nipple through her bra.

“
Mmm
,” she said, because she didn’t care about the elevator door anymore. She cared about Charlie and how good he tasted and how soon she could test the fit of his cock in her hand. She cared about leaving
Chaz
and coming to Charlie. She cared about feeling alive.

She fumbled for the button on his slacks.

“Riley.” Her name was more groaned than said.

He pulled her hands from his waistband and wrapped them around his neck. His mouth took hers, hard, desperate. His hand slid up the inside of her thigh and her hips instinctively rocked toward him.

He rubbed her through her panties. She buried her face in his neck and rocked against him, somehow channeling all the energy from her fear into desire.

He slid his fingers under the lace, and she clung to him. She was slick with need and he slid over her clit and back. She arched, pressed into him, willing him to slide inside her.

When he finally dipped a finger inside her, her own gasp of pleasure mingled with his groan.

“God, you feel good,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.

She clung to him, latched onto his neck and sucked while her hands clawed at his back. She rocked into his
hand,
let him fuck her with his fingers.

She wanted more.
So much more.
“Get inside of me,” she whispered. It was need—and fear, and confusion, and a horrible feeling that her life wasn’t in her control after all—that had her making this request.

“Here?” His voice was rough, like it’d been dragged over the ragged edges of need. “You’re sure?”

“Now,” she said. “Please.”

She thought he’d pull her panties to the side and slide into her quickly, take her fast and hard against the wall. She was surprised when he dropped to his knees and gently peeled the red lace from her hips. One at a time, he lifted her feet and helped her step out of her panties.

She made the mistake of taking her focus off him, of looking to the opposite wall of the elevator. “Oh, shit,” she whispered, her heart lurching.

“Look at me, Riley,” Charlie said, still on his knees.

She looked down into those blue eyes looking up at her like she was a goddess.

Bunching her skirt around her waist, he pressed his mouth between her legs, licked, kissed,
sucked
.

The world reeled.

She fisted her hands in his hair. She’d always loved the feeling of a man’s tongue against her sex, but
Chaz
didn’t like going down on her. She’d never pressed the issue, but God had she missed it. She didn’t even realize how much until she felt Charlie’s mouth on her.

She opened her eyes to take in the sight of him kneeling before her, the erotic image of his face buried between her legs. He was sliding a condom on while he worked her with his mouth.

“That’s what I call multi-tasking,” she whispered.

He chuckled and slowly stood, keeping a hand between her legs. “I could taste you for hours,” he whispered as he fondled her.

She kissed him and tasted herself on his lips. “Play your cards right and maybe someday I’ll let you,” she whispered.

“I’m damn good with cards,” he said, sliding his hands behind her ass and lifting her. “So don’t make any bet you can’t make good on.” With that, he settled her on the long, hard length of his cock.