ProvokeMe (20 page)

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Authors: Cari Quinn

BOOK: ProvokeMe
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Kelly shook her head and closed her eyes.
Too weird.

Then she fell asleep.

* * * * *

Kelly rubbed her cheek against Spencer’s chest, his strongly
masculine scent her lifeline.
Her feet were on the floor, her ass sunk into the
cushions where who knew how many other bodies had held the same position.
But
she barely noticed any of it.
All she knew was his heartbeat was a steady thrum
under her skin and—

“I didn’t use a condom.”

She rubbed her eyes, sure she’d misheard the dazed statement
he’d uttered against her brow.
How long had she been asleep?
Or passed out?
Her
guess was no more than a couple of minutes.
This place wasn’t exactly conducive
to napping.
Yet as loud as the club was, she felt as if they’d somehow spun a
protective web of intimacy over the couch stationed in one corner of the dance
floor.

Dance floor.
They hadn’t even bothered to go upstairs to the
lounge.
Not that she’d really been in the right mind for worrying about their
location.

She lifted her head and looked around drowsily, noting the
couple going at it on a barstool a few feet away.
So much for downstairs being
vanilla.
Maybe that depended on the crowd.

And maybe vanilla here was a relative term.
At least they
hadn’t been flogging each other.

“Did you hear what I said?”

No.
Not really.
Didn’t he get that her hearing had
fled with most of her other senses?
It was his fault, after all.
“What did you
say?”

He jerked up her chin.
“No condom.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, waiting for the punch line.
Did he
expect her to freak out because he hadn’t come prepared?
There were bowls of
them all over the place but maybe he hadn’t been thinking.
She sure hadn’t
been.
Still wasn’t.
“I’m clean.
You?”

Her eyes widened at his silence.
“Oh no.” Visions of painful
blood tests filled her already woozy head.
“You do come here an awful lot.”

His scowl went a long way to soothing her ragged nerves.
“I’m clean.
Jesus, Kelly.
Do you really think I stick my dick in any available
hole?
That’s not the point.”

More crude language.
So
not Spencer.
“Then?”

“Are you on the Pill?”

Was he really having this discussion in the middle of a sex
club?
After the deed had already been done?
“Pill, IUD, shots.
I do them all.
God forbid one sneaky sperm shoot through.”

He stared at her, his face strained.
“This isn’t a joke.
If
you can get pregnant, you need to tell me now so we can—”

“So we can what?
Search out a half-dozen morning-after pills
to make sure there’s no chance your oh-so-potent seed did its job?”

Annoyed and not sure why, she yanked away from him—though
her sweaty body seemed quite willing to remain plastered to his side—and bent
to search for her panties.
Remembering they’d disappeared a long time ago, she
struggled to her feet.

And promptly pitched right back onto Spencer, who caught her
with something between a laugh and a growl.
“A little weak-kneed yet?” The
possessiveness in the question wasn’t lost on her as his hand found her breast,
cupping it through her dress.
Her severely rucked up and wrinkled dress.
“Sit a
minute.
Where are you running off to?”

“Home.” With effort she managed not to purr as his long,
talented fingers toyed with her nipple.
“Alone.”

That caused his eyebrow to lift.
“I’m not invited to your
bed?”

“No, just like you don’t like me in yours.” Hard to sniff
when your breast was in a guy’s palm, but she gave it a try.
“I need to get
some sleep for a change.
I have to work tomorrow.”

“It’s past midnight.”

“So?”

“So call in tomorrow.
Play hooky.”

Now she was the one who stared.
She pressed her hand against
his forehead.
He was hot, yes, but that was to be expected after the prime
ramming he’d given her.
“Do you have the flu?”

“Why?” He smirked as his wandering fingers plucked at her
other nipple.
“You’re entitled to a day off now and then.
Which you haven’t
taken in months, by the way.
You have sick and vacation time coming out of your
very fine ears.”

She shrugged.
“I don’t get sick very often.“ She gasped when
he gripped her nipple between his knuckles and twisted.
That
bordering-on-painful gesture felt sinfully good.
“We just finished having sex.
What are you doing?”

“Maybe I’m not the only one who needs to learn about
foreplay.”

“It’s not
fore
when we’ve already fucked.”

“It is when we’re going to fuck again.”

Again, the swearing.
She gaped at him, noting the
fever-brightness of his eyes in the near dark.
“There’s no way you can be
ready.” She swallowed as she shifted on his lap and felt the thick erection
lodged against her hip.
“I know you don’t sleep so what’s your secret?
Vitamins?
Power water?
Hyperbaric chamber and erection meds”

He didn’t smile.
“You.”

“Are you sure it’s not that you get off seeing me suck off
another guy?”

“I got off.
As did you.
And if you hadn’t been so into him,
I’d have put my foot down before your mouth got anywhere his dick.”

“I wasn’t into him.
Exactly.
We…used to know each other.”

His gaze sharpened.
“Who was he?”

“My first lover,” she said, surprised she could still feel
sheepish when she’d just engaged in her second threesome.
Sort of.
Did it count
if both guys didn’t penetrate?
Was there a handbook for this sort of thing?

“I bet he’s seeing the error of his ways,” he muttered, his
tone dark.
“Too bad.
He had his chance.”

Her heart fluttered.
Her pussy clenched.
Two reactions he
seemed to coax from her effortlessly.
“Spencer, I’m exhausted.”

What was he trying to do to her?
Get her hooked on sex?
Dependent on hearing his soft breaths against her ear, on his growing ability
to know what she wanted and give it before she could ask?
She was teetering on
the precipice of something she couldn’t step back from, but he didn’t seem to
get that.
If he did, he would run far and fast.

How would he react if she told him she was in love with him?
She’d tried to fight it.
Hard.
Maybe she was just severely infatuated.
Perhaps
the extra hormone boost made the situation seem more dire than it actually was.

Most likely she was losing it.

She needed to get away to think.
The longer she stayed
around him, the less she knew herself.
Which was all well and good while the
party was raging but wouldn’t be nearly so much fun when she ended up the last,
lonely guest.

“I really should be getting home,” she added, since
confessing her fatigue hadn’t had the desired effect.
He was still caressing
her, still making love to her with his destructively magnetic gaze.

“No, what you should be getting is wet.” He slipped his hand
between her sticky thighs and smiled as he discovered she already was.
“Making
you come seems to be my new addiction,” he murmured, rotating his thumb around
her clit.
His finger probed her damp folds until she squirmed.
“Especially when
you don’t want to.”

“I always want to with you.” Wasn’t that half the problem?
Her body had no reserves against him.

“Lie back.”

Saying no wasn’t an option.
She rested her head on his
shoulder as she propped her foot on the back of the couch, opening herself up
to him.
Again.
His fingers played over her until her juice dripped between the cheeks
of her ass and her abused clit screamed for relief.
She whimpered against his
neck, her lips tracing his stubbled throat.
Three fingers fucked her without
mercy, driving deep then sliding away every time her pussy started to spasm.
Finally she could take no more.
She gripped his wrist and held him still,
impaling herself until she flooded his palm.

Mid-kiss, her moans spilled into his mouth.
When she
quivered, he ran his lips over her cheeks, her jaw, her eyelids.
Reverently.
As
if she mattered.

Seeing the reality of her situation was the only way to kill
crazy thoughts like that.
Ignoring every urge that made her want to cuddle, she
drew her face away.
Sleep threatened to drag her under, but she forced herself
to open her eyes.

But what she saw didn’t kill anything.
Sometimes he stared
at her—like right now—as if he were trying to peer inside her skull.
What was
he looking for?
And would she offer it freely if she knew?

“Will you come home with me?” One hand still cupped her
while the other finger-combed her tousled hair.
“To sleep?”

Even half-TKO’d from half a dozen orgasms, she knew when
something big was happening.
Well, other than the thick hard-on that had only
grown during his ministrations.
“I thought you wanted to split me open again.”

“That is a tempting proposition.” His mouth softened, stage
one of Spencer almost smiling.
“But it’s late.
And we both need to get some
rest.
I keep wearing you out.”

“No arguments there.” She wet her parched lips.
“In your
bed?
Together?
All night?”

“Yes.” He flashed her a real smile.
“All five hours that are
left of it before we have to head to work.”

“Well, you don’t have to go in that early,” she said,
speaking louder to drown out the thundering of her heart.
“Big boss man can do
what he wants.”

“I have a lot to do.” He skimmed his thumb over her lower
lip and her head spun as she picked up her own scent.
“I’m leaving early next
week to head out to Virginia.”

“For how long?” She hated the vulnerability she heard in her
voice.
Dammit, so what if he took a short trip?
They weren’t together.
Not in
any true, lasting sense.

“A week probably.
This time.
Kelly…” She waited as he
trailed off, then he shook his head and slid her dress down her thighs.
“Let’s
go.”

He remained quiet throughout the drive to his place.
The air
between them was rife with things unsaid, but she knew pressing him to tell her
was next to useless.
Even when he pulled her against him when they were naked
in his bed, he didn’t say anything beyond a terse “Good night.” After setting
the alarm for five as she’d requested, he turned off the light.

Somehow she slept.
She’d thought she would lay in the dark
and fret, something she’d become exceptionally good at recently.
But the moment
his arm came around her waist, she closed her eyes and drifted off.

She dreamed, and that in itself was unusual.
She rarely
dreamed or she didn’t often remember the dreams if she did.
This one was so
vivid, so heartbreakingly realistic that her eyes were wet when she woke.

Alone.
Again.

A glance at the clock showed her it was only three thirty.
Waking before her alarm was another tendency of hers.
She hated waking to
music, but waking to silence was ten times worse.
She rarely woke with a man,
and she hadn’t this time either.

The shower was silent, so maybe he’d gone for a run.
But in
the middle of the night?
She wouldn’t put it past him.
She hadn’t been kidding
when she’d said he never slept.
If he kept on the way he had been, he’d crash
and burn in no time.

“Not your problem,” she said under her breath as she turned
off the alarm and got out of bed.

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