Physical Touch (15 page)

Mitch nodded his head in admiration. “Well I’m glad I didn’t try anything funny out on you last night, then. And I’ll make sure to announce my presence if we’re ever caught in the dark so you don’t think I’m a would-be assailant.” 

Rylie’s eyes dropped to the table, trying to avoid the terror that rose from those words. Dark. Assailant. It was stupid that she could get that easily flustered at the mention of that. She didn’t want him to see the vulnerability they caused or her embarrassment over being such a freaking pussy.

Wanting to void any further discussion about the specifics for her reasons for taking up
Krav, she quickly jumped up and started clearing the table. Noticing the time on his phone, she mentally calculated the time they’d have to work out before he had to leave. 

“It’s nearly eight. We should get started with your exercises so you can get to your meetings.”

“Sure. And yes, to answer your question, I was able to reschedule one of my meetings and pushed the city council to eleven today. So I should be able to meet up with you and Tully at lunch, right after your tour. Then we can make our escape out on the yacht.” 

She picked up the tray of fruit and bagels and started toward the kitchen. “That sounds good. Why don’t you go jump in the pool and start your warm-up. I’ll be right back out.”

****

While Mitch’s knee was becoming less painful as he continued to work with Rylie, the pain she was causing him elsewhere intensified the more time he spent around her. The amount of effort he exerted trying to keep his distance and his dick in check was wearing him out. His body hummed with every touch of her hand or brush of her body against his. His body was coiled so tightly, he felt he might explode at any given moment. In fact, since last night, he did explode not once, but twice.

The words and sentiment he spoke to Rylie last night after the game were meant to turn her on and leave her desperate for him, hopefully sending her into his arms sooner rather than later. Instead, his plan backfired, because her reaction to him in the hallway got him so hot and his dick so hard, he had to rub one out as soon as he hit his room. And although it was probably his imagination, he thought at some point in the night, he heard her moaning and, God, that was hotter than fuck. He envisioned her spread eagle on her bed, naked with the moonlight cascading shadows across her body, her hands nestled between her legs, touching herself as she got off. And that right there was a fantasy of his come true, which led him to jerking off again.

And then to see her emerge from her bedroom, her hair still damp and in a loose bun on the top of her head, biting those lush lips of hers and a blush bursting on her face, he wanted to grab her by the hips and pull her to him, running his hands over every inch of her perfect body. But that was all stuff of fantasies, because he couldn’t touch her. At least not right this minute.

Mitch couldn’t recall ever having to work this hard
not
to touch a woman. His usual encounters with the opposite sex were normally fast, hot and over within a matter of days. There was never a reason to take it slow or proceed with caution. He found women who were willing and understood his no-strings-attached guidelines. 

It was different with Rylie. He could feel her desire for him when they touched and saw it written all over her face when she looked at him, her eyes filled with an unspoken need. He knew it burned just as deep and constant with her as it did for him, yet he held back, respecting her need to keep the professional boundaries clearly drawn. But it was damn near killing him. He wanted nothing more than to watch her desire grow under his skillful touch until she was panting breathlessly, begging for him to satisfy her hungry need. 

He had nearly succumbed to that very urge during their morning session right after breakfast. As usual, his thoughts while working out with Rylie were never on the grueling exercises, but the close proximity of her wet body to his. She was once again wearing the skintight modest suit, which wasn’t all that revealing, but that made no difference to Mitch and his imagination. She was a goddess in anything she wore.

Rylie stood facing him, their bodies inches from one another, demonstrating the correct posture for a squat he was to do across the pool’s length. Leaning in, she placed her hands on both of his hips, pressing him down into the water, into the squat position.  Mitch’s breath caught in his throat as her breasts briefly grazed his chest as she leaned down to him. Her reaction was immediate, as her taught nipples strained against his bare torso, creating a friction so hot all the water in the pool couldn’t extinguish the burn. 

Realizing her error, she stepped back, but not before his hands caught her from behind, reaching to cup the bottom of her ass and bringing her entire body flush against him. Feeling her body tighten under his grip, he hesitated a moment, searching her eyes for an answer to his silent question. She responded with trepidation, almost in slow motion, as she moved her hands between their bodies to touch his bare chest, sliding around his neck. She licked her pink lips, her pupils growing wide and dark. That was all the answer he needed to take possession of her mouth.

His kiss was hot and demanding. His tongue entered her mouth, greedily taking its fill. Every stroke and sweep of her mouth was a banquet feast and he was more than ready to dive into the main course. Mitch rocked his hips against hers, his hardened length grinding against her, rubbing feverishly where he most wanted entrance. 

His teeth nipping along her lower lip, Mitch’s hand began to draw a path from the curve of her butt, up her spine and around her front until he palmed the soft swell of her breast. 

Her nipples tightened into hard buds as she let out a lusty breath against his mouth. His fingers found the strap of her suit, maneuvering it down over her shoulders, until her ample breast spilled out of the wet material. His thumb brushed lightly over her nipple, an audible gasp coming from Rylie’s mouth. 

Mitch stepped back to admire. “Perfect,” he whispered, bending down to take her nipple between his lips. “And I knew you’d taste sweet.” 

Rylie’s hands were now clenching Mitch’s hair, sending a flood of erotic tension through him, as he sucked her nipple with feverish intensity. Mitch grabbed her butt again and pushed her up against the side of the pool, as Rylie’s legs wrapped around his waist, bringing their bodies even closer. 

“Mitch…this is such a bad idea…” Rylie cried out in anguish and desperation.

Mitch raised his mouth to hers again, thrusting his tongue inside to quiet her thoughts. His fingers continued to pluck the hardened flesh of her nipples, his own erect flesh pulsing against her sex.

“I think this is the best idea I’ve ever had,” he rasped. “I want you so much, Rylie.”

Mitch’s hand glided over her breasts, down her flat, hard stomach, to the juncture of her thighs. His fingers teased its subject through the tight material before sliding underneath, delicately pressing the warm flesh apart, feeling the slick heat between her folds.

Damn, she felt so good
.

Rylie threw her head back with a gasp, but not in ecstasy, in protest. 

“No, Mitch. I…I can’t.”

Pushing hard against him and abruptly dropping her legs, Rylie turned to lift herself up and over the lip of the pool. Mitch grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her back to him, her backside pressed firmly against his chest. They were both breathing heavy.

Wrapping his arms around her middle, Mitch pressed his face against her neck, trying to steady both of them and help to make sense of the thoughts swirling around in his mind. “Come on, Ry…you know this is going to happen. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“What makes you think I’m afraid?” she hissed. “Maybe I just don’t want this.”

She wiggled to get free as Mitch slowly loosened his grip, realizing it was a lost cause for the moment. 

“I think that’s bullshit. You do want it – you want me. You’re just afraid to admit it for some reason,” he said, more forcefully than he meant. “And I don’t understand why.”

He watched her get out of the pool, readjust her suit back up over her body and take a towel to dry off.

“Rylie, please,” he said more softly this time. “Whatever it is, we can work through it. If it’s because I’m your client, well, that can be easily remedied. You can fire me or better yet, I’ll fire myself,” he tried to smile, his eyes pleading with her to look at him. “I want you more than anything. Why won’t you give this a chance?”

Rylie stood poolside for a few minutes, looking out at the direction of the ocean, quietly reflecting over the situation before finally responding.

“I think our session is over for today. I’m going to go workout before the tour, so I’ll see you later. No need to join us for lunch. I’ll be fine without you.”

Mitch slowly walked up the pool steps and grabbed the towel from the chair.  Exasperated and completely vexed by the turn of events and her rejection, he didn’t want to press the subject any further with Rylie. She’d made it clear it wasn’t going to go any further, so he was through with punishing himself by thinking otherwise. 

If she wanted it strictly business, then that’s what she would get, even if it killed him. 

“I’m still going to try to make lunch,” he mumbled. “And we’re still going out on the yacht. You can bet on that.”

Rylie nodded in understanding, not with any real confirmation, and then she darted in the house without looking back.

Mitch watched her until she disappeared and took a long breath. She completely and utterly confused him. He thought that based on her response to their kiss, she was ready to let go, to pursue this attraction heating up between the two of them. But once again, just when he felt he was hitting the point of no return, she pulled back, looking started and bewildered. As if she had no idea how she’d gotten her legs wrapped around his body or was in his arms half naked. And whatever it was that brought her hurdling back to earth, crashing through the atmosphere until she hit, it was likely something he couldn’t do anything about. And that just pissed him off more.

It would be a very long, long day.

Rylie’s legs burned as she finished her brutal five-mile run along the Biscayne Bay neighborhood and beach. The sun was hot and blistering, making sweat bead and drip down her neck and back, plastering against her humid skin. 

With each breath and every stride she chastised herself for her stupidity over her behavior that morning with Mitch. Why the hell did she act this way around him? Why couldn’t she just give in and let it happen naturally? She wanted nothing more than to wrap herself around him and let him penetrate her body and her soul, but her brain kept putting the brakes on. 

Yes, she was scared. The feelings that erupted inside her when she was with Mitch were too enormous for her to comprehend. It wasn’t just a craving or a sexual desire for him. Without putting a name to it, she felt the beginning of something blooming within her, something that had been long dead and buried.

And if she was being completely honest with herself, she was using her occupational code as a means to avoid the real root of the problem. Of course she didn’t want her lack of judgment to affect her reputation in her chosen profession, but it was more than that. What it boiled down to was the thought of losing her heart to Mitch and he, in turn, leaving her heart shattered and broken. Just like when her mother left. A heartbreak she never wanted to live through again.

The damage that had been done to Rylie and her family was indescribable. They were left feeling victimized and vulnerable, not to mention lacking control over their lives. And even after all this time, her father would never open up and talk about the pain she had caused him. He busied himself in the day-to-day responsibilities of taking care of her and her brother, burying the pain and avoiding any long-term relationships with other women. 

She saw what it did to him. He had been an empty shell for twenty-two years, hollow on the inside and he’d allowed his self-worth and spirit to be crushed by a selfish woman who didn’t give a damn about her own family. And now, as she looked at her own life at age twenty-eight, Rylie saw that very same resentment and fear crowding her heart so completely, leaving barely a sliver of room for anything close to love.

She’s promised herself, especially after her attack, that she would never become a victim again. No one would take away her will or control. And that’s exactly what happened when you succumbed to the advances of a man. You lost your voice and your reasoning in the heat of the moment. And afterward? The inevitable would happen. Mitch would take what he wanted and then leave her with a gaping hole in her heart. Not.Going.To.Happen. 

Rylie stretched her muscle-cramped legs out in front of her on the yoga mat in the Olympic-sized workout room. Her calves ached and her quads were on fire from her run and she was looking forward to using the Jacuzzi after she cooled down. Reaching for her toes, she grabbed hold of her feet to bend down, releasing the tension in her back. Her phone, which was on the iPod player cranking out the newest
KONGOS
album, began to ring. Jumping up to grab it, the caller ID displayed Sasha’s picture. Smiling, she clicked the Answer button.

“Hey Sash.”

“Hey girly…is it HOT in paradise?” she asked, stifling a laugh.

Rylie giggled at Sasha’s over-emphasis on the word hot, knowing intuitively her comment meant more than the temperature in Miami. 

“Tell me all about what’s been going on…give me all the juicy details. Have you fucked him yet? Oh God, I bet it was incredible!” she gasped over the line. “And have you worn the red suit yet? He probably came in his shorts the minute he saw you in that thing. That suit accentuates every single curve of your gorgeous body and your flat, perfect abs and your awesome ass. You might be my best friend, but I still can hate you for looking so much better in my clothes than I do.” 

Sasha continued to pepper her with questions, one after another without pause, as Rylie would every now and again give her an “uh-huh” and “yes, no, maybe” response. 

Rylie thought about the red monokini Sasha had packed for her, which she hadn’t had the chance to wear yet. She had planned on wearing it on the yacht that afternoon, since the other suit she had was too functional and was still drip-drying in her bathroom shower. But now she didn’t plan on going out with Mitch. She’d pretty much screwed that pooch on that invitation.

Although technically it was a one-piece suit, it had to have been the sexiest suit she’d ever worn. It was a deep red demi-cup bikini top that tied at the neck, connected to the bottom with side cut-out hourglass material, with string bikini bottoms. To say it was revealing was an understatement, even though it covered much of her abs and belly button. From the back it looked just like she was wearing a string bikini, but the front? Ooh-la-la.

“I haven’t worn it yet, but we were planning on going out on the yacht this afternoon to swim and snorkel. But now I don’t know if that will happen.” 

“What does that mean? What happened? Trouble in paradise already? You haven’t even fucked him yet – what could possibly have gone wrong?”

Rylie filled her in on what happened in the pool earlier and how he seemed pretty frustrated when he left the house. Her friend was not the slightest bit deterred by what Rylie had shared with her or her concern over potentially damaging their relationship before it even started.

“My dear, Rylie. You know what they call that level of frustration?  It’s called foreplay. It’s obvious he wants to get in your pants, right?”

“Yes, I think that’s fairly obvious.”

“And you’ve been a royal cock tease and bitch up to now, stringing him along, right?”

“Well, I guess, but not on purpose. I just haven’t allowed him to do anything more than kiss me. And…well, touch me.”

Sasha was silent for a moment, clearly ruminating over the situation, like Angela
Landsbury trying to solve a murder case on
Murder She Wrote
.

“This is perfect. Sounds like he’s already good and wound up tight from all your teasing, which means you’ve got his cock by a string. So here’s what you’re going to do later today. You’re going to flirt like crazy with this Tully guy at lunch. Make Mitch so jealous, he’ll lead you into the bathroom stall, shove you up against the wall and fuck the shit out of you, before dessert is even ordered.”

Rylie was flabbergasted at her friend’s visual, but it did sound like it had merit. That is, if he even ended up showing up to lunch. 

Sasha continued, giving her friend the step-by-step on how to ensure her yacht adventure turned out to be a
sexcapade on the high seas.

“Once you’re on that boat, all you need to do is strut your sexy self around in that red suit and he’s going to forget all about your fickle tirades from before. Trust me, this will work,” Sasha exclaimed excitedly. “And when it does, and you’ve experienced the best sex of your life, you’re going text me to tell me how BIG he is. Or better yet, just send me pictures!”

Rylie choked out a loud laugh, giggling uncontrollably into the phone.

“Only one problem, Sash. What if he doesn’t show up for lunch?”

“He will, girl. He will.”

****

Mitch’s meetings seemed never-ending, boring as hell, and the last place on earth he wanted to be. His concentration was shot to hell and his mind hadn’t been on anything that the other parties were saying. He was distracted beyond belief. 

He glanced down at his watch, which now stated eleven-fifty a.m., the end of his meeting with the city council nowhere in sight. Mitch silently groaned with the knowledge that he wouldn’t make it to the restaurant before Tully and Rylie began lunch.  His only hope was intruding somewhere before the end. 

Recalling how greasy Tully acted the day before when he was pawing over Rylie at the game made Mitch bite back a wave of anger. He’d known Tully for years and seen him with plenty of women, often while they were out carousing for the same entertaining pleasures. He never thought of Tully as a sleaze-ball, just a typical single man in his mid-thirties with money to spend and a libido that went with it. The
Wolf of Wall Street
in Miami, no doubt. A flare of jealousy erupted as Mitch thought about Rylie alone with Tully. Was she laughing at his jokes?  Were their knees touching underneath the linen covered table? Was Tully’s arm draped possessively over Rylie’s shoulders, his fingers brushing the fine hairs on the back of her neck? 

Brooding about the what-ifs was just about killing him. Closing his laptop, Mitch pushed his chair back and stood.

Reaching out to shake their hands, he swung his bag over his shoulder, stepping toward three of the council members. 

“Harold,
Joleen, Debra,” he said politely. “I’m sorry to rush off, but I have a lunch meeting I must attend that I’m already late for. I’ll be back in the office on Friday and I’ll look forward to hearing your decision on our building plans. Until then, I appreciate your time. Thank you.”

If the others in the meeting were surprised over his abrupt conclusion, they didn’t show it. They all shook hands and nodded their goodbyes with the promise to reconvene and give him their decision soon.

Mitch nearly bolted out the building doors and down to the parking ramp, jamming the key into the ignition and squealing out of his parking space. By his calculation, he would make it to the restaurant by twelve forty-five, assuming he didn’t hit traffic. 

His heartbeat raced in anticipation of joining Rylie and Tully for lunch and potentially interrupting any plans they were making to see each other again. He didn’t think Tully was Rylie’s type, but that wouldn’t prevent him from pulling out all the stops to wine and dine her. Similar to what he was trying to do this week. He laughed at the irony.

He had no right to think or act the way he did over Rylie. Hell, if she wanted to date Tully, more power to her. But he would damn well make sure she knew what she would be missing out on if she didn’t pick him. 

Throwing the car in park, he opened the door and handed the keys at the valet, who was eagerly waiting at the curb. “I won’t be long,” he said, taking long strides into the Oceanside restaurant. 

Whipping off his sunglasses, he scanned the room filled with dozens of diners. A young hostess wearing a tight fitting black dress stepped around the podium and in front him. “Can I help you, sir? Do you have a reservation or are you meeting someone here?”

“Yes, I’m meeting someone. Randall Tully? He’s here with a woman.”  Mitch nearly said
my woman
, but caught himself.

Hostess girl looked over her computer screen and hummed. “Ah, yes. Here they are. Mr. Tully and his guest are sitting out on the deck. Let me take you there.”

Mitch rudely pushed past her, heading to the back of the restaurant facing the water. “No, that’s okay. I can find them. Thanks, though.” He handed her a five-dollar bill and stalked away toward the patio.

The sun was bright and the glare off the water had him squinting and averting his eyes from the onslaught of light. Temporarily blinded, he halted his forward movement.  He couldn’t see them, but he absolutely, without a doubt, heard the commotion that came from the table to the right, shaded in the corner of the deck.

“I asked you to get your hand off my leg, Mr. Tully. That didn’t give you liberty to move your hand further up my thigh. If you don’t remove your hand this minute, I’ll be prompted to move it for you.”

Two seconds later, Mitch heard a deep, agonizing curse. “FUUUUUCKKK!”

Mitch heard the loud noise of chair legs scraping against the deck floor, the sound of knives and forks being jostled on the table and then a slam of a hand on the table top.

Her voice was full of fury and hell fire. “That was the sound of me breaking your fingers, Mr. Tully. You should go ice that as soon as possible. And keep that in mind the next time a woman asks you to stop.”

Mitch snickered quietly, as he stepped back under the deck’s awning just as Rylie appeared around the corner, smacking directly into his chest.

Looking up at him, Mitch saw the reddened features of Rylie’s face, her eyes turning nearly black with fury and her mouth creased tightly in a thin line.

“Asshole,” she spit. “Please get me out of here…now.”

S
he didn’t have to ask him twice.