A Gentleman in the Street (21 page)

“Your shoes.”

“Do you want me to tell you how much they cost?” she snapped.

“No, let me stay ignorant, please.”

Unease roiling in her belly, she gently eased the shoes off the railing, holding her breath as they freefell. He caught them and carefully placed them on the ground. “Okay. Your shoes are fine.” He looked up at her expectantly. “Now you.”

Akira glanced back at the window, where safety and warmth awaited. Really, was she willing to fling herself off a building so she wouldn’t deal with paparazzi? “Maybe I should leave the old-fashioned way,” she hedged. “Now that you’re outside already, you can easily sneak away.”

“Hmm. Sure. If you want to give your father that satisfaction.”

She turned to face him sharply. “What?”

Jacob patiently gazed up at her, the light from the street and the halogen bulb mounted on the building giving off enough illumination for her to see him clearly. “I’m sure he’ll see you on one of those entertainment news shows. Even if you say
no comment
, he seems like the type of jerk who would be happy you’re harassed at all. If people are talking about your reaction, they’re talking about him. More ratings, right?”

Akira narrowed her eyes. “You’re surprisingly manipulative, Campbell.” What was even more surprising was how tickled she was by that manipulation. So perverse.

“I’m only being logical.” He looked down, nudged her heels. “Plus, there’s the fact you’ll be shoeless.”

Her snarl was low. “Fine. Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

She had to work her skirt up almost to her bottom in order to get down on her knees. She cast him a glare over the strangled noise he emitted. “I can’t help it,” she muttered.

“I don’t want you to.”

Surprised at his murmur, she glanced over her shoulder, but his eyes were all over the bare expanse of her legs. He met her gaze and grinned, the charm and mischief in it making him appear ten years younger.

Had she thought he was surly and uncommunicative once upon a time? It was hard to remember that when he was looking at her like this. “Come on.” He raised his hands. “Jump.”

She faced forward, released a deep breath, and let go of the railing, eyes screwed shut. A second of weightlessness, and then he caught her, the hair on his arms scraping her legs.

Her lashes fluttered open to find their faces close together, so close she could see the tiny striations of brown interrupting the pure green of his irises.

“There.” His chest rumbled. “That wasn’t bad, was it?”

Maybe it was the danger, or the sense that they were compatriots, or the romantic position he was holding her in. Maybe she was simply tired of fighting her attraction to this man. All of the excellent, self-sacrificing reasons to kick him out of her life went flying out the window when she kissed those lips. It didn’t help that he responded instantly, parting for the shallow foray of her tongue. She swept in, dominating his mouth, making him hers.

The man was talented with his firm lips and hot tongue. With a low moan of surrender, Akira grasped hold of his shoulders. In a heartbeat, Jacob’s grip turned more possessive, his tongue battling with hers for the upper hand.

He gave a little growl, and the air spun around her until a hard surface met her back. His teeth scored her lower lip and she hissed. She loved this, loved the urgency and ferocity he brought with him. All that hunger boiling under his quiet facade.

His hunger may outpace yours.
Or it was just right.

Roughly, he pushed her jacket aside and tugged at the sleeveless shell until the stretchy material had pushed below her breasts, the straps tightening around her shoulders uncomfortably. He did the same to her bra. Cool night air wafted over her nipples, tightening them further. Her skirt was already hiked up, but he pushed it higher, making a place for himself between her thighs. She wound her legs around his narrow hips automatically.

“There are people outside the alley,” she whispered. It wasn’t a protest, though another person might have interpreted it as such.

Not Jacob, though. He drew back, lips wet, eyes glittering feverishly. “With cameras.”

Her pussy clenched. It wasn’t fair, they were both on the same wavelength. How was she supposed to resist debauching him when he was so willing to play? “They’re looking for me.”

She was held up by the weight of his body and the brick wall behind her. He’d pushed her into the deepening shadows of the alley, out of the direct light, but it wouldn’t take long for an inquisitive photographer to find them.

He stepped closer, cupping her ass in both big hands, and hoisted her up higher, impatiently shoving her panties aside to dip inside her wet folds. His finger grazed the seam of her lips before tentatively pushing inside. “I thought I’d imagined it,” he said, so low she had to strain to hear.

“What?”

“How good you feel.”

“And did you?”

“No.” His lips parted. “It’s better. So hot. So wet.” He sank his finger deeper, to the knuckle. It wasn’t enough. She wanted him to loosen his jeans and cram her full of his thick cock.

“Fuck me,” she directed him, uncaring of the danger and risk, or her earlier reservations.

A big hand instantly covered her mouth, his thumb resting right under her nose. When she cried out, his teeth flashed white in the darkness, his excitement over their spy game morphing into a different kind of pleasure. “You like this. You liked it when I did this to you in the storage closet.” Her fierce nod dislodged his hand. “Jacob,” she gasped. “I need…”

He muted her again and rested his head on her forehead, his hot breaths mingling with hers. She was on fire at every point of contact: his finger stroking inside her pussy, his broad chest against hers, his hand over her mouth. “Shh. I know what you need.”

“Shh. I know what you need.”

How could he? For the first time in forever, she wasn’t sure what she needed.

“They’ll hear you.” He screwed a second finger in. “Can you hear them?”

She could hear them, faintly, the excited chatter of photographers as they waited for her to emerge from the building. Her body grew wetter, the threat of imminent discovery exciting her even as her brain told her it could ruin her.

He removed his fingers. Before she could protest, the cotton of his T-shirt abraded her exposed nipples as he aligned their bodies so his dick rested against her pussy. He rolled his hips, his jeans rough. “They’re going to figure out there’s a third exit pretty soon,” he murmured. He pressed his hand tighter against her mouth when she moaned. “They’ll come see.”

Her lips moved under his palm, and he released his hold long enough for her to speak. “They’ll see I’m dying to be fucked.”

His moan was a whisper of sound.
By who,
he mouthed. He punctuated each word with a thrust, his cock rubbing her clitoris.

“By you,” she gasped.

The unappeased sexual tension coiling inside of her since they had ventured forth on their ridiculous agreement coalesced into a giant, frightening thing. His shoulders grew even more tense under her palms, and he began shafting her with short, rough strokes designed to make her come.

She gritted her teeth and cursed the barrier of his jeans. He could be inside of her. She needed him there.

His palm absorbed the small cries she gave as she came all over him. For a second, as he rested against her, that thick bulge riding her sensitive clit, she wondered if he would rip his clothes off and fuck her, any voyeurs be damned.

But no, he pulled away. It took him but a second to readjust her top and help her put on her shoes, tugging her skirt down to its proper length.

A tendril of fear curled around her. Would this be like last time?
Oops, I tripped and started grinding into your pussy,
she thought with some bitterness.
So sorry. Let’s erase this from our collective memories.

But when she forced herself to confront him and search his face, there was no shame or regret, only the same light that had been there before, mixed with a heavy dose of arousal. “The crowd in the front is growing,” he whispered, gesturing to the north end of the alley. “We need to move.”

He was right, judging from the noise, and it was a sign of how badly she had wanted him between her legs that she hadn’t realized that herself.

She took his outstretched arm as he started to lead her in the opposite direction. They only went a few steps before he stopped and looked at her shoes. “Your heels are too loud.” He knelt and quickly unlaced his boots. “Wear my shoes.”

Oh, Jesus. There was a strange, undefined melting sensation going on in her chest. “I don’t think yours will fit me,” she managed. “I’ll be even louder, clomping around.”

A frown came and went on his face. “Okay. Here.” He pulled his socks off, somehow balancing to keep his bare feet from touching the ground, and put his shoes back on. He knelt again and tapped her knee.

Confused, she lifted her feet for him to slip the socks over her heels, creating rather large cotton booties. He rolled the sock down, tucking it in behind her heel to keep the material from slipping.

“There.” He glanced up from underneath his lashes and grinned. “That should help.”

She examined the odd footwear. “I really hope the photographers don’t see me now,” she said dryly, struggling to hide her emotions behind sass. “This would be hell to explain when I land on the worst-dressed list.”

He surged to his feet and took her arm again. “You’ll start a trend.”

“Did you see that guy’s face when we drove right past him?”

Akira chuckled, thinking of the paparazzo who had scrambled for his camera when he caught sight of her sitting in the passenger seat of Jacob’s car. Luckily, it had taken him too long to start his car. Akira hadn’t been keen on a car chase.

Jacob coasted to a stop in front of her house. “There’s no reporters here, at least.”

“No.” She shrugged. “They don’t usually come up here. Hedges are too big, and the more famous neighbors get cranky.”

“Maybe this thing with your dad will blow over by tomorrow.”

She quieted. In all the excitement, she had forgotten about her father and the headlines he had caused, simply because he was an attention whore. The TMZ headlines flashed across her mind. She didn’t want to know what other sources were saying. She gave a harsh laugh. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“If not, I can drive you to work tomorrow, if you want. I worked out about two more ways into and out of your building on the way home.”

Yeah, he really had enjoyed himself tonight. She suppressed her smile. “I’m guessing I’d have to wear a catsuit?”

“No. Well. You could wear a catsuit, but— Actually, yes, yes, it is vitally important you wear a catsuit.”

She chuckled, cutting herself off when she caught his odd look. “What?”

“Nothing. I’ve, uh, never heard you genuinely laugh, is all.”

“Never?”

His gaze darkened. The streetlamp glinted over his hair as he shook his head. “After I… In your office, on the floor. After…you laughed. But not like this.”

After she had come. When she’d been breathless and satisfied at finally getting what she’d wanted for so many years. The brief moment of joy he’d quickly crushed.

“Well.” She studied her hands. “Anyway, I don’t need a ride in. I have a driver. I’ll have to retrieve my car anyway.” She used the word
driver
deliberately, an attempt to distance them, but he only nodded, his gaze far away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, then.” He leaned in and kissed her.

Not on the lips. On the cheek. His lips glanced over her skin, a dry kiss somehow far more intimate than another man’s tongue inside her.

Her hand wrapped around the car door handle, the cold metal chilling her. “I can’t see you again.”

There was silence for a moment after her blurted-out words.

“Bullshit,” came his soft reply.

Surprised at the succinct disagreement from a man who had proven to be more than agreeable, she forced herself to meet his eyes. “I mean it.”

He studied her face in the dim light of the streetlamp from outside. Far below them, the city lights twinkled, but this was the enclave for the wealthiest in the city. Privacy was guaranteed.

She wished she had chosen to do this in one of her busy nightclubs. Amidst a thousand people. That might have made things easier.

Liar.

“Oh, I’m sure you mean it,” he said, his words even. “What are you scared of?”

“Nothing,” she responded too quickly. “I just don’t want to see you anymore.”

“I think I deserve a reason,” he said, skepticism written all over his face. “Because it didn’t sound like you didn’t want to see me when I was making you come all over me in that alleyway.”

He certainly didn’t have much of a problem with frank speaking now, did he? She swallowed, the click of his seat belt releasing loud in the small Toyota. He leaned over and curved his hand around her cheek, his eyes seeing far too much. “Do you know how hard it was for me to stop and pull away from you?” he said, his voice thick. “I could feel your wetness through my jeans.”

Jesus, no problem with frank speaking at all. He had come a long way from not being able to look at her for fear of illicit thoughts. Unable to resist, she dropped her hand down to his crotch, his mouth opening when she massaged the thick bulge she found there. Not for the first time, she wondered what he looked like.

“I know exactly how hard it was,” she murmured, caught up in the heated need pulsing through the small space. Her belt unbuckling was loud in the silence of the car. “Or rather, is.”

“Akira…”

Walk away from him. You were about to do it. Don’t make this messier.

She couldn’t. Let her steal this one more thing for herself. It was unfair they had done so much, yet she hadn’t even seen him. “You’ve made me come three times so far. You haven’t come once.”

“I’m not keeping score.”

His breath rushed out of him when her hands deftly worked the buttons closing his fly, finding him encased in snug black cotton. “Shut up, Jacob. Stop being so saintly for a couple of minutes, would you?”

Unable to wait to have him naked, she leaned down and mouthed his erection through the snug material, rewarded by his groan.