Dare to Love (12 page)

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Authors: Carly Phillips

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Dare to Love
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EIGHT

R
iley’s outburst popped the bubble of anger that had been surrounding Ian all day. She stood at the elevator, pounding at the button in a panic, and his anger, which should never have been directed at her, dissipated, replaced by concern.

“Riley.”

She ignored him.

The elevator door opened, and Ian bolted forward, grabbing her around the waist and yanking her back before she could step inside.

“Put me down!” She struggled, but he waited until the elevator door slid shut to do as she asked.

She spun to face him, fury on her expressive face.

“What the hell was that all about?” he asked.

“You tell me! I came here to check on you, and you treated me like persona non grata in front of your family.”

Yes, he had. He’d never been so angry or hurt, and it made no sense. Why the hell did he care if his half siblings showed up or not when he hadn’t wanted to invite them in the first place? He’d only done it to get Riley’s address and phone number, and when she’d bailed too, he’d taken it as her choosing Alex over him. Which clarified his blinding anger, to camouflage the hurt.

But none of that explained why she’d suddenly freaked—because that’s what she’d done. Yeah, he’d been an ass, but not enough for her to react that way. He knew she wouldn’t budge until he gave in first.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Her eyes opened wide.

He was just as shocked by the words that came out of his mouth. Words he never used, because in his experience, they made him weak. With this woman, it seemed there was nothing he wouldn’t do or say.

Needing space, he stalked over to the wet bar in the living room and poured himself a drink. Pausing for a long sip as the liquor burned down his throat, he studied her, seeing her for the first time tonight.

She wore a white, strappy dress that clung to her generous curves, her curls falling over her shoulders and down her back. Now that he’d regained his sanity, he wanted nothing more than to grab hold of all that gorgeous hair, pull her hard against him, lose himself in her warm, wet body, and forget that he’d allowed his half brother to get to him. Make her forget that he’d treated her so badly, but that wouldn’t solve anything between them.

They’d both overreacted. He understood his own reactions, at least when it came to her. He still didn’t understand hers, and the mystery of Riley remained.

“Are you okay?” he asked from his place across the room.

Riley drew a deep breath and nodded, still attempting to calm down, to assure herself that what she’d seen in the mirror hadn’t been reality. She’d sworn she’d never be
that
woman, the one who needed a man so desperately she’d accept anything and everything he dished out.

She replayed the events of the last few minutes in her mind. He’d been cold and unforgiving, but she was the one who’d flipped out. He’d grabbed her, yes, but the minute she’d told him to take his hands off her, he had.

And he’d apologized.

Two things she’d never seen her father do.

Rationally she knew that people could argue and get past it, and that’s all they’d done. Had an argument.

She swallowed hard and slowly crossed the room to where Ian stood. “I don’t understand everything that just happened between us,” she said truthfully.

He met her gaze, equal confusion in the gray depths. “I’m not so sure I get all of it myself.” He gestured to the sofa, and she joined him, settling in with just a few inches of space between them.

They sat in silence for long minutes until Ian finally spoke. “I’ve been telling myself for years I want nothing to do with them.”

She knew he was referring to his father’s other children, and she nodded, wanting him to continue without interruption.

His chiseled features were hard as he spoke. “When my father offered your address and phone number in exchange for me reaching out to my half siblings, I grabbed the opportunity. I let him bribe me, and the
why
has been eating at me ever since.”

“Maybe you really wanted an excuse to get to know them?” she suggested, thinking that deep down, Alex and Ian wanted the same thing.

He exhaled a harsh breath. “Yeah. And that’s what’s been bothering me. I don’t want to want anything from them,” he said, running a hand through his short hair.

“Why do you hate them so much?” she asked hesitantly. “The resentment for your father I understand. But Alex and his siblings are as much victims of circumstance as you and your sisters were.”

“Because he chose them.” Each word came out sharp and punctuated with pain. “And before you say it, I’m fully aware these aren’t the thoughts of a rational adult.”

Unable not to respond, she inched closer, clasping his hand in hers. “No, but they are the feelings of a wounded child.”

He frowned at that. “I was an adult when we found out about them.”

“About eighteen, right?”

He nodded.

“If you ask me, eighteen is very much an in-between age. You were entitled to the resentment.”

He looked away, and she sensed him sorting through his thoughts.

“Graduations, birthdays, a broken arm, a burst appendix. We didn’t have a father for any of those events. We thought he was too busy working, and not that it made it okay to miss out on so much, but it made sense. And I looked up to him because he had this strong work ethic, so he could provide for his family. For us.”

She saw the child he’d been, idolizing his father, and her heart softened even more.

“It turns out,” he went on, “even if he’d been working, he was living with them while he did. Because he loved Savannah, while my mother was just the marriage his parents had forced on him to keep the business running.” He leaned his head back against the sofa, his emotions running high.

She sighed, wishing there were words that would help, knowing there were none. She understood so much more about his side of things now.

“It makes sense you’d resent them. But it also makes sense that a part of you
wants
to be included in their family, especially since your sisters are close with Sienna.”

He glanced at her, looking more the hurt young boy than the composed man she was used to seeing.

“Well, it doesn’t matter, does it? Because Alex wants nothing to do with me.”

“He’ll come around.” She hoped. Because the guilt was killing her.

But guilt and her best friend’s disapproval didn’t change her feelings for Ian, which were developing and growing stronger in a very short period of time. She was still shaken up by seeing shades of her parents in her interactions with Ian, but the facts weren’t the same as her memories. And this revealing conversation showed her that even if she had flashbacks, she needed to remember to view Ian differently than she did her own father.

“And if he doesn’t come around?” Ian asked, still on their conversation about Alex.

Riley knew what he was asking, and she didn’t want to choose. She couldn’t. “All I know is, right now,
I
want everything to do with you.”

She rose and straddled him, her knees on either side of his waist, her sex directly over his now-thickening erection.

His hips surged upward, and he let out a low groan. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Really? Enlighten me.”

He met her gaze, heat and desire simmering in the depths. “I spilled my guts, and now you’re distracting me so you don’t have to spill yours about what happened with you.”

He was right, not that she’d admit it. “Today wasn’t about me.” And she wasn’t in the mood to revisit her childhood out loud, when she’d just gotten him beyond his, at least for now.

“That’s a non-answer.” He braced his hands on her waist, seemingly more himself.

“I don’t want to dig into my past right now. Okay?”

His gaze sharpened. “What happened earlier had to do with your past?”

She hadn’t meant to reveal even that much. Seeking a distraction, she ground down on his hard length, moaning when the sensations rushed through her, delicious waves of yearning that precipitated the building of a fast orgasm.

His fingers pressed deeper into her flesh, and her flimsy, lace panties grew wetter. Heat spread from her core throughout every part of her being.

“I will get to know you,” he said, his words a definite warning.

Maybe so, but not right now. She slid her body away from his so there was enough space to give her room to ease her hand into the elastic waist of his pants and brush the head of his cock.

His erection jerked against her hand.

“Commando?” she asked, the very thought sending heat spiraling through her.

He shrugged, as if his lack of underwear were an everyday occurrence. “I sleep nude, might as well make life as easy as possible.”

“I can’t say I mind.” She eased her fingers deeper so she could wrap them around his velvety, thick penis.

His hips bucked, his gaze darkened, and his erection grew even more solid beneath the firm grip of her hand. Knowing she could wreak havoc with his control caused a rush of pleasure to storm her senses. Her breasts throbbed with the need to be touched, but this wasn’t about her.

She wanted to take his mind off his family’s rejection. Make him feel better. Just make him
feel
.

She pulled his shirt up and off then leaned forward, placing her hands on his chest. She breathed in his heady masculine scent, wet her lips, then licked one firm nipple. The salty taste inflamed her senses, and she wanted more.

He shuddered and groaned. Encouraged, she ran her tongue around and around the rigid peak, losing herself in everything that was Ian. His hair-roughened chest beneath her palm, his hot skin, and his incredible taste had her shifting her lower body, but there was no relief to be found. Only building desire.

Instinct had her wanting to bite, and she nipped him with her teeth.

“Holy shit.”

His fingers bit into her waist, and the edge of pain heightened her desire. Tightening her grip, she pumped her hand up and down his shaft. His cock thrust upward, and pre-come moistened her palm. He groaned, and with her lips still against his chest, his big body trembled.

“You feel so good in my hand. So hot and thick. So ready to come.”

“I’m not going to let you play much longer,” he warned her.

“You will,” she said, squeezing his cock in her hand. “Want to know why?” She looked into his handsome face.

“Why?” he asked, his expression a mix of pleasure and pain.

“Because I’m asking you nicely.”

He slid his hand into her hair, another warning his willing lack of control was coming to an end.

“Please let me make you feel good.” She peppered soft kisses over his delicious skin, moving lower until her mouth hit the top of his pants.

She slid to the floor. “Please,” she asked again, hooking her hands into his waistband and urging him to help her tug his pants down and off.

He met her gaze, and the turmoil she saw almost had her giving in, but she wanted this. Wanted to see this big, strong man give over to her this one time.

“You have control issues.” She pinned him with what she hoped was her most serious gaze.

“That goes without saying.”

She nodded. “After what you told me today, I think I understand why. You had everything you believed in stripped away from you, and you had to take over as the head of your family. Control makes you feel like you won’t be hurt again,” she said.

He shuddered, her words clearly hitting a nerve. She remained on her knees, waiting.

“I won’t hurt you,” she said in a soft voice. “Just trust me.”

With a low oath, he stood and let his sweats fall to the floor. Pleasure and relief suffused her as he tossed them away and lowered himself back to the couch.

She slid her fingers up his thigh, her hand looking small and delicate next to him. She crawled up between his legs and studied his hot, thick length, sure he’d grown even bigger in the last few minutes.

Undeterred, she licked his shaft, up then down, coating him with moisture before taking him in deep. He was so hot, so big, she hoped she could do this, and continued to envelop him.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” His hand gripped her hair hard. “You feel so good.”

Moisture trickled from her sex. Doing this for him was making her even needier. She tightened her mouth around his shaft and began to draw her lips up and down, creating an intense suctioning she both heard and felt. Her jaw stretched; her eyes watered. She added her hand, the moisture provided by her mouth making for slick ease of movement.

He tugged at her scalp, and she felt the harsh pull in her clit. God, she wished she could touch herself, make herself come. She moaned around him, sucking him as deep as she could, until he nudged the back of her throat. Needing air, she quickly released him and breathed in deep before she slid her lips around him once more.

With a groan, he cupped the back of her head, holding on to her as he jerked his hips, forcing his cock into her open, waiting mouth.

This time, she moaned at the sensual assault, which overwhelmed her as she accepted all of him, including his dominant need. He pumped into her again and again, as out of control as she suddenly felt.

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