Fearless: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 2) Page 9

  My belly clenches tightly and my thighs start to shake as I feel an orgasm looming. I’m so close! But suddenly, he withdraws his finger, leaving me hanging.

  I glare at him as he sucks my juices off his finger. “Shane!”

  “Patience, sweetheart. We’ve waited this long. Let’s not rush it.” He chuckles. “I have a feeling once I’m inside you, it’ll be over way too soon.”

  He nudges my thighs wider apart and settles his shoulders between them. His breath is hot on my exposed sex as he parts my flushed folds with gentle fingers.

  I practically growl at him in frustration. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

  “Nothing so dramatic. I just want a taste.”

  “At least let me come.”

  He shakes his head. “Not until I’m inside you.”

  He starts with light flicks of his tongue on my already oversensitized clit. I whimper, unable to help myself, and rock my hips shamelessly against his mouth. He moves in closer, nudging my thighs up over his shoulders, and uses his fingers to open me wide so that he has unobstructed access to my sex. His hot tongue takes one long swipe from my aching core up to my quivering bundle of nerves, and I shiver.

  When he grasps my clit lightly between his lips and begins to suck, I nearly come out of my skin. My heels dig into his back. “Oh, God, Shane, please!”

  He brings me right to the edge, again and again, tormenting and teasing me until I’m a shaking mess. Finally, he raises his head and wipes his mouth on his bicep, then rises up over me, settling his hips in the cradle of my thighs. As he slowly sinks down onto me, he’s watching for signs of anxiety. “Doing okay?” His voice is low and hoarse, and I know he’s reached the end of his patience, too. Thank God.

  I nod, swallowing hard.

  He positions the thick head of his cock at my opening and rubs himself in my wetness. He’s a lot to take at first, and it’s been a while.

  When he wedges the crown inside me, I tense, my muscles going taut. Already he’s stretching me, and this is just the beginning. I’m sure he can feel my limbs trembling, but I can’t help it. He eases himself inside me a bit at a time, gently rocking forward and back, and the sensation of his firmness sinking inside me is exquisite.

  My body stretches around his thick girth, and the slight burn makes me gasp. He distracts me by rubbing little circles on my clit with the slick pad of this thumb. Soon my impending orgasm is back with a vengeance.

  Finally, his cock is seated fully inside me, and I can feel the weight of his balls pressing against my bottom. He’s breathing hard now, his jaws clenched. His expression is strained, and I get the feeling he’s holding himself back. He pulls slowly out, letting his cock drag against the sensitive tissues inside me. Then he rocks back inside in one slow, fluid stroke. I gasp.

  “You okay?” he says, his voice hoarse.

  I close my eyes and nod.

  “Open your eyes, Beth. Look at me.”

  I lock my gaze on his as he starts to move, his thrusts slow and measured. Somehow he knows just how to angle his cock so that the head drags along the front wall of my passage hitting the sweet spot with every stroke. The pleasure inside me builds, stealing my breath, until I’m on the verge of coming. I’m so close, but then something changes, as if a switch has been thrown inside me. I feel my pulse pick up and my heart starts hammering – and not in a good way. As I begin to struggle for air, I recognize the beginnings of a panic attack. I grip his shoulders and push, my nails digging hard into his muscles. Immediately, he raises himself off me.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” He leans down to kiss me lightly, and then he looks me in the eye and strokes my cheek. “It’s just you and me, right?”

  I nod, trying to remain rational. But it’s not easy.

  He studies my expression and frowns. “Sweetheart, if you’re not ready – ”

  “I am ready!” And to prove it, I reach between his thighs and take hold of his erection.

  He’s hard as steel, his cock engorged and slick from my juices. His balls hang heavy between his legs. When I squeeze his erection, he looks down to watch and groans. My hand slides easily along his length as I stroke him, and when my fingers slide over the sensitive crown, he grits his teeth.

  “I’m not going to last much longer,” he warns, giving me a self-deprecating look.

  “That’s all right. I just want to feel you inside me again. The rest is icing on the cake.”

  He smiles, and then he kisses me. “Come here, sweetheart.” He maneuvers himself into a sitting position on the sofa and draws me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him, face to face. My thighs are spread wide over his, and my flushed sex hovers close to his erection.

  His gaze burns into mine. “Put me inside you and ride me. Make yourself come.” To help me along, he strokes my clit again, giving me something besides my anxiety to focus on.

  My thighs tense as he rubs my clit, and I groan, dropping my forehead to his. “Shane.”

  His other hand settles on my hip, and he coaxes me closer. His voice is rough. “Put me inside you, honey.”

  I scoot forward, positioning myself right over him, and then I slowly sink down on the crown, biting my lip as the fat head of his cock pushes inside my swollen opening. My breath hitches in my throat as he fills me again, stretching me so perfectly. I raise up a bit, then sink down farther. With each rise and fall of my body, his cock slides deeper and deeper into me. When he’s all the way in, I moan at the sweet feeling of fullness.

  “Okay?” he says between gritted teeth.

  I take in his tight expression. He’s so determined to make this good for me. But it’s been so long, and he’s clearly on edge. I want this to be good for him, too. “You can let go, you know.”

  “Not until you’ve come.”

  I’m so close already, I’m pretty sure if he touches me again, I’ll fall apart. “Touch me.”

  As he reaches between us and rubs my clit, I lean into him, my forehead against his, looking down to watch his thumb teasing me. I move up and down on his erection, and the combination of sensations sends me into orbit, and I come apart. Shane captures my mouth with his and swallows my cries, drinking them in and absorbing the sounds. My sex clamps down on his cock, squeezing him tightly. He throws his head back and cries out as he comes hard, grimacing as he shoots liquid heat into me, thrusting with each ejaculation.

  “I love you,” he says, breathing hard as he looks into my eyes. He cups the back of my head and draws me down to lay my head on his shoulder.

  We hold each other for a long time, simply enjoying the physical connection as well as the intimacy of being joined together. The air is cool on my back, but my front is toasty warm against the searing heat of his body.

  I snuggle into him. “Love you, too.”

  Chapter 12

  I must have zoned out for a while on Shane’s lap, because when I try to move off him, my legs are stiff. He loosens his hold around my waist.

  As I lift myself off his cock, semen trickles down the insides of my thighs. “Oh, my God, I’m leaking!”

  Shane somehow manages to refrain from laughing, although I do detect a trace of humor in the curve of his lips. I’m not used to having sex without a condom, so I wasn’t quite ready for the aftermath. He lifts me off the couch and sweeps me up into his arms. “That’s just one of the joys of going bareback. Let’s go clean you off.”

  He carries me into the shower stall and turns on the water, adjusting it to a comfortable temperature before setting me down beneath the warm spray. He steps inside the shower with me, and I stand on shaky legs, holding onto him for stability as he quickly rinses my body free of chlorine and his come. Then he washes himself quickly.

  “Beth, are we okay?”

  I look up at him and realize he’s serious. He’s actually concerned. My pulse speeds up. “Yes. Why?”

  “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to live with the past couple of months, and I’m sorry for that. I realiz
ed how bad it was when you felt the need to sneak off yesterday. You don’t have to do that, you know.”

  “I just needed some space and a change of scenery. I’ve been cooped up here at the house for a while.”

  He nods. “Lia or I or Cooper will take you anywhere you want to go. You’re not a prisoner. I want you to feel like this is your home. I want you to be happy here.”

  Now that he’s opening up to me, I decide to come clean. “I miss my townhouse. I’ve given some thought to moving back there.”

  “Jesus, Beth, no.” Shane turns off the water and pulls two large towels out of a cupboard. He hands one to me and begins drying himself with the other. “You can’t go back to the townhouse. It’s not safe.”

  While I’m towel drying my hair, Shane retrieves his clothes and comes back into the bathroom, holding out his t-shirt to me. “Your bikini is wet. Why don’t you wear this?”

  I slip his t-shirt over my head, grateful that it’s long enough to cover my butt. I still feel ridiculously underdressed, but there’s no way I’m putting my wet swimsuit back on.

  Shane looks at me. “You’re not happy here?”

  I can tell he wants a straight answer. “This place is beautiful, Shane, really it is. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I feel... isolated here. I guess I miss the city. I didn’t realize how much until yesterday.”

  He frowns as he takes my hand. “Let’s go upstairs and change, and then we’ll talk. Whatever you need to be happy, we’ll do it.”

  Back in our suite, I’m sitting on the bed wrapped in my fuzzy, pale blue robe, watching Shane dress. After donning black socks and boxers, he pulls on a pair of charcoal gray slacks and a white, button-down shirt. He looks a little over-dressed for being at home, and I can’t help wondering what he’s planning.

  Still, I’m enjoying the show. I love watching him get dressed. He finishes buttoning his shirt and tucks it into the waistband of his trousers with brisk, precise movements. The man’s gorgeous no matter what he’s wearing, but when he dresses up, he takes my breath away.

  “You look pretty hot for an older guy,” I tell him, grinning. He’s thirty-four, just ten years older than I am, but I like to tease him about the difference in our ages. And, he’s got a birthday coming up soon, I remind myself. I need to plan something to celebrate.

  “Thirty-four is not old,” he says in mock indignation.

  He disappears for a moment into the huge walk-in closet and returns wearing a black holster strapped to his chest and carrying a black handgun. Fascinated, I watch him check his ammunition and reset the safety, and then he slips the gun into the holster.

  Now that I know Howard Kline is free, Shane doesn’t have to hide the fact that he’s armed when we go out. The gun scares me, I’ll admit, because I know nothing about guns. I’ve never even touched one. But it also fascinates me.

  Almost all of Shane’s employees are armed, so I guess it’s something I’ll have to get used to.

  Now that he’s dressed and ready, Shane faces me, his hands on his hips. “Let’s go out, on a date.”

  I’m still a little dazzled by his appearance, so it takes a moment for his words to sink in. “A date? Like, right now?”

  “Yes, right now. What would you like to do? Name it.”

  The thought of going out with Shane – on a date! – is thrilling. We haven’t been out on a date since before the assault, so I jump at the chance.

  “There is one place I’d like to go. Clancy’s.”

  I feel drawn to the place. It’s always been my happy place, ever since I was a kid and my mom or brother would bring me downtown on the weekends to browse for books. Now that I own it – I still haven’t been able to wrap my mind around that – I feel even more compelled to be there. And even though, as Vanessa pointed out, I don’t have any retail experience, I have a legitimate and vested interest in the bookstore. I want to be part of it.

  Shane nods. “All right. Let’s go.”

  “Really? Right now?”

  He smiles. “Just as soon as you get dressed.”

  I brighten as I hop off the bed and head into the closet to pick out something nice to wear.

  * * *

  As we head toward the city, I’m struck with a sense of déjà vu, as I remember the first time I rode in Shane’s vintage silver Jaguar. That was the first night he took me back to his apartment – technically, that would have been our second date. That was the night I freaked out on him in the elevator and asked him to take me home. He’d taken me home without a single word of reproach.

  He’s never made me feel bad about my anxieties – that’s one of the many things I love best about him. He kissed me for the first time that night, setting my body on fire. I glance over at him and smile, remembering our first real kiss. It had started out as a simple, hesitant meeting of our lips and quickly escalated into an inferno. He’d touched me, driving me crazy with a level of desire I’d never experienced before. I’d wanted him so badly, even from the beginning, that for the first time in my life I was willing to take a chance.

  I think back to my only so-called boyfriend before Shane –Kevin Murphy – and cringe. What a disaster that was. We’d been so young, both of us just twenty years old, very young still, and very sheltered. We met in college in an American history class. We were both inexperienced, so we dated a couple of months before we got up the nerve to have sex. To this day, I can’t think of that night without feeling sick. When he pressed me down into the mattress, I went into full-blown panic attack mode and ended up screaming at him to get off of me.

  He didn’t react well to my melt down. I can still hear him yelling as he hastily dragged on his clothes. You’re such a fucking headcase!

  He stormed out of my dorm room, and I never heard from him again. It gutted me. Shamed me.

  I didn’t try again after that. I’d had no intention of ever trying again... until I met Shane. Shane made it all okay. Shane, who comforted me the night I freaked out on him during our first attempt at sex.

  Shane reaches over and lays his hand over mine, smiling. His blue eyes glitter, crinkling a little at the corners. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  I guess I’m not very good at masking my emotions. My face burns under his scrutiny, and I shake my head and turn to look out the passenger window at the passing scenery.

  “Beth.”

  I shake my head more vigorously as my throat tightens up. Some memories are better left forgotten.

  He squeezes my hand gently. “I don’t like the expression on your face. I want to know what put it there.”

  Surprised by the sudden edge in his voice, I turn to look at him.

  “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

  I shrug. “I was just thinking about something that happened a long time ago. It’s not important.”

  “Anything that puts that look on your face is important. Spill it.”

  I sigh because I know it’s futile to fight him when he gets like this. “I was thinking about Kevin.”

  “The moron you dated in college?”

  I nod, chuckling. Shane has a way of putting things into perspective.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he says, “but I’m glad your first boyfriend was a prick. If he hadn’t been, I might not be sitting here with you right now. So, in a strange way, I guess I owe the guy.”

  I laugh, which I imagine was Shane’s goal all along.

  “I’m serious,” he says, interlacing our fingers. “I owe the guy a huge debt. Maybe someday I’ll have the chance to pay him back for what he did.”

  And if that isn’t an implied threat, I don’t know what is.

  * * *

  Traffic is light until we reach the outskirts of the city, and even though it isn’t even close to rush hour yet, it’s already bumper-to-bumper traffic – in other words, it’s a typical Chicago afternoon. Shane heads toward The Gold Coast and pulls into a parking garage a few blocks from Clancy’s. He hands his keys to an enthusiastic parking at
tendant who looks far too young to be driving, and we head on foot toward the bookstore.

  As soon as we hit the sidewalk, I realize I’m a city girl at heart, because just being here amidst the noise and the bustle invigorates me. I even like the cars, the tour buses, and the constant stream of cabs of all shapes and sizes zipping in and out of traffic. The streets are filled with people from all around the world, and if I listen, I’ll hear half-a-dozen languages spoken in the space of ten minutes.

  Shane looks very GQ in his white shirt, dark slacks, and jacket. I still find myself catching my breath when I look at him. Since he was dressed nicely for our date, I decided to dress up a little too, with white sandals and a summer dress – a sleeveless, pale peach linen sheath dress. I even put on the pearl and diamond locket that Shane gave me the night of the hospital benefit. He takes my hand, and we walk along the crowded sidewalk to the bookstore, dodging baby strollers, shoppers, and the occasional panhandler.

  The gun concealed underneath Shane’s jacket seems unnecessary to me. After all, Howard Kline’s not going to jump out at us from behind a trashcan on the streets of downtown Chicago. Shane has surveillance on Kline twenty-four-seven. They know where he is at all times and exactly what he’s doing. So there’s really no risk to us here. Besides, Kline lives in a suburb south of the city, at least twenty to thirty minutes away by bus on a good day, so it’s not like he can sneak up on me, even if he knew where I was at any given moment.

  I push thoughts of Kline out of my head. It’s a beautiful, hot summer day, and I’m with Shane. I don’t want to think about Kline. Glancing around, I take in the sights and the sounds of the city I love so well. We walk past a bakery, and the sweet scent of pastries wafts out the open door. Even though I’ve lived here all of my life, it still feels like a magical place to me.

  We pass a Starbucks, and of course we have to stop for coffee. Shane orders his black, but I have to indulge my sweet tooth with my favorite iced caramel macchiato. We take our beverages outside and sit at a little patio table situated beneath the shade of a dark green awning. I watch the flow of people and traffic with a growing sense of contentment.