Business With Pleasure (Empathy in the Preternatural PNW Book 2) Page 11

  He emerged, having removed his socks as well as the gun, his khakis and boxers hanging low on his narrow hips. I was able to enjoy a very nice view of the hipbones beneath his pale skin. I decided I would have to take the time to nibble down there later, but for now I just enjoyed watching him move. As he stepped around the couch, I twisted my upper body and pulled him so we were close. My eyes on his, a smile on my lips, I slowly began sliding my free hand down his naked chest, below the line of his boxers.

  “That’s all me,” he mumbled against my lips. After letting him take my mouth once again, I moved my teeth along his jaw, scraping across his flesh.

  “Good boy,” I murmured back, licking his earlobe into my mouth. I bit down enough that I knew it would sting. Pulling back, dragging my teeth along his skin until we separated, I moved back to his mouth, kissing him again.

  I felt full and fuzzy, distracted enough by his emotions overtaking mine in the moment that I simply shifted and adjusted to let him unhook my bra and slide it off. His fingers were gentle on my breasts at first, but when he began to pinch and tug, I let myself moan between his lips. I found that his tongue matched the pace of his fingers. He exhaled on the end of a kiss like he needed to eject me from his lungs, and I felt the tension in him constrict like metal about to snap. I let out a surprised little gasp when he twisted me suddenly, pressing my back to his chest.

  One of his hands pinned me to him while the other moved down my belly, slipping into my underwear. When he quirked one finger against me, I gripped backward, digging my fingers into his thigh. I scratched him, rougher than I meant to, hard enough that I felt the pressure at the base of each nail.

  I could feel him like a caged animal in my head. He was aroused and frustrated, the latter due entirely to the former. We’d been flirting and teasing each other for long enough that even I was ready to throw down, dispense with the pleasantries, and go at it like monkeys. I found that I liked the feeling of his impatience, that whatever he wanted to do to me, it wouldn’t be slow and sweet.

  “Okay,” I said, pulling away from him.

  I moved my hands to his, pulling him away from my flesh, though I had to fight him on it. When I turned to face him again, his eyes were too wide, his emotions barely contained. It was the first time he seemed unable to hide what he was really feeling in the way he looked at me.

  “You look frustrated,” I said, purposefully making it sound condescending. Before he could answer, I leaned in, grabbing handfuls of the fabric at his hips. I let my thumbnails scratch his skin and I followed my hands downward, dropping into a crouch. He didn’t step out of them when they reached his ankles, and I didn’t look up to see his expression. Deciding to indulge my earlier fantasy, I leaned in, licking a line up the left side of his hip and giving the skin a hard bite, getting as much of him between my teeth as I could manage. He groaned a little at the pain and disappointment sloshed against the eagerness within him, making me wonder if he would have preferred me licking just a little to the right.

  Pushing to my feet again, I reached out to grab his hands. As I placed them on my hips, I pressed gently against him and moved up to whisper in his ear.

  “One last thing and then I’m good to go.”

  The disappointment within him vaporized under an atomic bomb of excitement that clouded out over my skin and made me sizzle. He shoved at the fabric of my panties, dropping down with them. He paused, his shoulders level with my hips. I heard the quick sound of cloth rustling on the floor, but before I could catch sight of what he was doing, he came back up, his arms locked around my thighs. I gasped, letting out a sound that was half-panic as I felt the dam on his control break. He lifted me, shifted our weight and flung me onto the couch on my back.

  He fell over me, shoved my right leg into the couch cushions and pushed my left thigh up, bending it until my knee was up by my ribs. Eyes intense, he moved his free hand forward, holding out a shiny package. It took me a second to figure out what he held; in all the foreplay, I had completely forgotten to ask about protection.

  Silently, he watched me over the wrapper. I gave a small nod, took the condom out of his hand and tore it open. Before I had the chance to do anything further, he pulled it free of the wrapper and moved his hand into the darkness between us.

  His free hand remained at the back of my knee, his fingers digging into the sides painfully, even as he finished with his delicate work below. Finally he shifted, leaned over me, his eyes intense even in the dark and flickering firelight. I expected him to kiss me, but when I reached up, he jerked back. Using his free hand, he grabbed my wrists. Making eye contact, he forced my hands back above my head, held them there long enough to make the point that he expected me to stay in that position.

  As he shifted further up my body, I felt his other hand move in before his cock, feeling its way. Finally, as he ducked his head into my neck and gave my collarbone a surprisingly gentle kiss, I felt him slip inside. I shifted my arms, gripping the armrest of the couch, moving my right leg to ease the pressure of the position he’d left it in. Lifting my hips, I met his first thrust, tried to match his second, but he shifted his grip away from my thigh. His other hand stayed bracing him on the back of the couch, but he moved his hand to my belly and pressed gently.

  Lifting his head so he could meet my gaze again, he gave me a condescending smile.

  “I think you’ve done enough.”

  “Okay,” I agreed breathily. I tipped my head back, kept my grip on the armrest, and breathed out. I felt Owen slide above me, shifting his stance and moving his other hand further up the couch. I watched his arm tense and felt the slow glide of his thrust. I sighed out with it, feeling my mouth fall open as he pulled back. When he seemed to have the pace he preferred, he lost himself in a rhythm.

  Taking advantage of my empathy again, I reached into him and pulled his emotions into me. It quickly got dizzying. I had worked both of us into such a state that I wasn’t sure it would take more than a few seconds for both of us to collapse into a spent heap.

  His control was admirable, though, and as he moved faster against me, I lost the ability to separate who was feeling what. My spine was bowed, my fingers digging into the couch. I squeezed my thighs around his body, sucking in long, deep breaths edged by the sounds of pleasure. I opened my eyes to look at his face and found him watching me with an intensity that I wasn’t sure I could handle. Rather than watch him watch me, I closed my eyes and pulled my hands forward, grasping his shoulders.

  I was shoving my knee against his hand, not out of any desire for him to stop gripping me so tight, but just out of a need to do something. My body felt too loose, too open. I wanted to close around him, pull him against me and hold on. Abruptly, he let go of my knee and I felt his hand move between us, felt his fingers splay over my abdomen. When his thumb rubbed against my clitoris, I gasped out a shocked sound.

  I couldn’t help it; I thrashed, cried out again, slower this time. My arms spread out to grip the couch on either side of me. Lifting my legs, I squeezed into Owen’s shoulders with my knees, forcing his hand out from between us.

  I wrapped my legs around his back and pulled him into me. His hand sunk further into the cushions next to my shoulder, and I could feel his fingers leave the back of the couch. He planted his hand next to my other shoulder and as I began to fall back into my own mind, I got caught up in his orgasm.

  It was like a spastic, joyful relief. Tension broke in his mind, along his body, and he stopped moving, pressing as hard against me as he could. He was breathing roughly into my shoulder, his mouth open. I could feel the wetness of his saliva, but I didn’t mind. Trying my best to detach my emotions from his, I turned away from him, attempting to get my body to relax. I couldn’t seem to unclench my legs and my hormones were not ready to risk losing the pleasurable waves still crashing through me.

  I felt the strain in his arms as Owen pushed himself up, and I caught the somewhat goofy pride on his face when he met my eyes. I grinned dreamily,
moving my arms above my head and shifting my hips. I kept my legs around him but eased my grip.

  “You look like you just discovered damning government secrets.”

  “No word from Deep Throat, this time,” he quipped. I snorted. Coming back to the thought I’d had earlier, I glanced around the room.

  “Your landlord isn’t going to mind—er—this, is she?”

  “Doubtful. I’ll buy her a new couch if she really insists.”

  As he moved his hand to the back cushions again, he pushed himself up enough to look around the room. We separated carefully and I stood, glancing around. I caught sight of my underwear, kneeled down to grab it and then watched Owen gesture to my camisole and bra. I grabbed them as I waved vaguely in the direction of the bathroom.

  He made a gesture with his free hand that said, ‘Please. Feel free.’

  I took my time cleaning up and came back out into the living room feeling oddly chilly. Owen had pulled his boxers back on and gathered our clothes up. They were folded neatly on the coffee table, and he looked up from setting my skirt on top of my jacket as I came around the corner of the hallway.

  “Well, that part of the date went very well,” I observed, letting myself feel smug and self-satisfied.

  “Better than being drugged by hooligans?”

  “Hooligans?” I scoffed, pausing by the fireplace to hold my hands out to it.

  “What word would you prefer I use?”

  “Assholes.”

  He snorted, came across the room to meet me. Lifting his hands to his hips, he watched me warm myself against the fire.

  “I need to tell you something but, before I do, I want you to know that I very much enjoyed your company tonight.”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “I get that from all the men who nail me to a couch.”

  “Really,” he said and I wasn’t sure he was reinforcing his statement or questioning mine. I waited in silence, dropped my hips down and sat on the warm stone, putting my back to the fake wood and its real fire. Owen’s silence started to annoy me, so I frowned deliberately up at him.

  “If you’re pregnant, I am suing the shit out of the condom company,” I said. He smirked, but I didn’t feel the level of amusement I wanted. All I could feel from him was hesitation. “Jesus, just spit it out.”

  “I’m sort of seeing… someone.”

  “Me?”

  “Among others.” He lifted a hand, gesticulating as if he could pluck the words out of the air. “I don’t stay in one place for long. It’s about convenience.”

  “Sexual convenience?”

  “Occasionally.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t sure how I felt but, thinking back on the evening, I’d accepted more incredible things about him. “Okay, then.” I repeated. He dropped his hands to his sides.

  “Okay then…you’re going to hit me in the gut and leave?”

  “No. Okay then, as in…okay then. It’s just a date, just sex. You don’t live here, and I never suggested that having sex meant you must only have sex with me.” The heat at my back was starting to hurt, so I stood, putting my hands on his chest. I indulged myself by running my fingers over the lean muscles and met his eyes.

  “As long as you’re not lying to the others about whomever you’re sexually conveniencing, I can’t argue.”

  He was pleased by my attitude, and I wondered if he’d waited to tell me until after sex in case I refused to ever speak to him again.

  “I’d like to see you again,” he said after a moment.

  “I gathered.”

  He kissed me, his hand gripping my arm harder than was necessary. In return, I dug my nails into his hip, tucking my thumb against the dent just in front of his pelvis. He turned the kiss into a bite and I let him tug at my lower lip, opening my eyes to find him watching me.

  When we separated, I sighed.

  “I feel like I should go, but I also feel like leaving sends the message than I’m pissed at you for having a side dish.”

  “Side dish? Are you seriously hungry? After all this? Haven’t I filled you up enough?”

  I sniffed, pretending to take offense. “Well, maybe being drugged by hooligans gives me the munchies.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It wasn't until we were on the car on the way back to my place that I started to think of the night in terms of everything that had happened and not just the naked parts. I glanced over at Owen, unsure whether I wanted to dislodge the fat contentment sitting in a cloud around him. Swallowing, I angled myself to face him as well as I could within the seatbelt.

  "You mentioned Madeline, at one point," I said. A tiny bubble of annoyance popped from somewhere inside him. "Do you, by chance, mean a succubus who owns a coffee shop?"

  The annoyance popped again, this time accompanied by a larger swell of displeasure. He turned toward me, his expression still pleasant despite what I felt from him. Blinking, he turned to look out the front window again. He took his time and I let him stay silent. He'd indicated that talking about his job was mostly off-limits; I considered that he might just ignore my questions entirely. I wasn’t sure I could let that stand, even though I knew it might ruin my chances of ever getting him naked again.

  "Are you two friends?" he asked, finally. I shook my head, realized he probably couldn't see it in his peripheral vision in the dark car.

  "Not exactly. You might have noticed her shop is below my office and—if you've been in—that she makes a kick-ass chocolate cake. I love chocolate cake." He smiled, nodded.

  "Well. I have business with her, let's leave it at that."

  I swallowed again, lifting my hand to rub my nails against my lips as I considered. Talking over my fingers, I pitched my voice casually, even though I was worried my persistence might make annoy him.

  "I don't really know if I can leave it at that. She's a nice...um. Woman. She spends most of her time at the café, and while we're not best buds, I am kind of fond of her." I let the sentiment hang in the air and dropped my hand into my lap before I continued; I knew he could tell what I was about to ask. "Are you here to, you know, solve her?"

  We paused at a stop sign and he turned to face me; there was no one around in my neighborhood this late, so we didn't get any honks for staying still.

  "I wasn't hired for that, specifically. But depending on how things turn out, I can't promise I won't have to do so eventually."

  I bit my lip and we stared at each other. After everything tonight, I felt that this was the most awkward it had been between us so far. That included when I'd woken up in a bathtub and then confronted him while he was holding a gun.

  "Can I ask what you were hired for?"

  He sighed, and I felt like a kid who’d asked for a pony one too many times. He stayed quiet but his emotions were burbling, making he think he was considering my question instead of simply being aggravated by it. Turning back to the task at hand, he pulled away from the stop sign. We both said nothing as we drove the rest of the way to my house. We pulled into my driveway, where he shut off the car and turned to me.

  "Do you watch the news, or read about it?"

  "Not really. I catch the weird stories, but not usually the everyday stuff."

  "You should look into some of the everyday stuff that's been happening in the last week. Specifically,” he said, very seriously, “strange deaths in the area." He looked toward my house then, breaking eye contact so that he missed my reaction to his words. The body at the grocery store jumped to mind, and I remembered that I had nearly run into Madeline right after finding it.

  Without going into what I’d seen and felt, I nodded. "I'll do that."

  He smiled and I felt my seatbelt unbuckle. I glanced down and watched his hand follow the buckle across my lap, stopping on my thigh. I let out a breath, and then, catching his soft smile, I leaned in to kiss him. He kept one hand on my leg, the other pushing into my hair. He squeezed my thigh as I pulled away.

  "My Tuesday is full, but I'll call you Wednesday."

&n
bsp; "I may have more questions," I said.

  "If they're not, 'will you please remove your pants?' I may not answer them."

  "Then I'll start with your pants and work my way up."

  "I like that about you."

  I laughed and pulled back, grabbing my bag from the back seat. We didn't say goodbye, but I did glance back and give a small wave as I let myself into my house.

  ##

  My bed was bouncing and it wasn’t because of the sexy dream I was having. At least, I don’t think dream-me was reacting to having sex with a faceless dream man by yipping, “Gwen! Wake up! Wake up, Gwen! Get up! Time to wake up!” in Chloe’s voice.

  I grunted, shoving a hand at whatever kept poking me in the ear, felt my palm get caught and tickled. I let out a whine and kicked out, but found that my leg was trapped and couldn’t go much further. I just grunted again and turned my face into the pillow. The whole bed shuddered and a slim arm wrapped around my hip, pulling me close. I opened my eyes to find Chloe grinning at me, her eyes bright.

  I just grumbled and closed my eyes.

  “Tell me about your date! Did you get lucky?”

  “Mmhmm,” I grumbled, hoping she would take it and run. I had no idea what time it was but the fact that I was conscious enough to wonder anything at all was incredibly disappointing. Chloe leaned closer and I could smell mouthwash on her breath. I got a bit self-conscious about my own morning breath, but decided that she had put herself in the line of fire.

  “So, you got lucky and then what? Where did he take you? And then,” she said, her voice going low, “where did you two go to dinner?”

  I cracked an eye open a slit and caught her cheesy wink as she used the arm trapped partially under her body to shoot me with a finger-gun. It reminded me of when I’d run into Mel in the elevator, which made me smile. Chloe took that to mean I was awake enough to jostle some more.