Double Down (14 page)

“What are you doing?” His voice came out harsh at the edges despite his best efforts.

The look she flicked up at him was all wanton amusement. “If you don’t know, I think we might have some problems.”

Her fingers were cool when she delved behind his boxers and pulled his cock into the air.

Spreading his fingers wide along the wall did nothing to abate his need to grasp her skull. To guide her mouth.

He’d be damned if his head wasn’t still playing games. Now…

Now she wasn’t his girlfriend, happily welcoming him home from overseas. If she were, she’d be climbing him and getting her rocks off too, since it would’ve been so long. Instead, the classy suit combined with her strawberry-blonde hair rapidly falling out of its knot gave Cassandra an air of depravity. Outright sexiness. She was a normally untouchable businesswoman who’d taken one look at his flight suit and needed a taste.

Her tongue darted out to lick his swollen head.

Ryan dropped his chin to his chest. God, that was good. Hot and wet. Just the right level of pressure as she dragged her tongue flat along his shaft.

His urges won the battle. He dipped his hands down to push roughly into her hair, wrecking her classic perfection. Hairpins pinged across the linoleum floor. Reddish locks tumbled around her face just as she opened her lips.

Wet suction blasted his spine. Stripped away his last bit of sense.

She was a flight groupie.

Hot for it. Hot for
him.

Slender fingers ringed the base of his shaft, stroking with her mouth. She sucked him deep, then tickled the underside of his cock with her clever tongue.

All the while she stared at him, eyes wide like some porn starlet.

Tiny shakes shivered his arms as he tried not to face-fuck her. She wasn’t
actually
a pilot groupie, not some random chick he’d picked up at a bar. Maybe it had started that way, but somewhere along the way they’d moved on. In a good way, there was no denying. That meant he couldn’t just wrap his hand around her neck and force her to take all of him.

Ryan ground his back teeth together as he resisted the orgasm swirling in his balls. Holding back the groan that started low in his chest was impossible.

Eyes glittering, Cassandra drew back far enough that her wet mouth hovered over his dick. Her lips glistened. She darted out her tongue to circle the ridge behind his head, then formed a deliberate O with her lips and sealed over him. Sucked deep again.

He forced himself to loosen his grip on the base of her skull, to pull his hips back. His cock slipped out of her mouth with a wet pop. Cassandra’s soft sound of disappointment only cranked him higher. “Baby,” he said, “you’ve got to back off.”

She grinned and swiped the back of her hand across her chin. Moisture glistened on her lower lip. “Make me.”

“How about if I just pick you up and throw you over my shoulder?”

She giggled, then leaned forward to suck him into her lips again. Holy Christ, he’d never been with a chick who laughed while sucking him, and fuck if it wasn’t amazing. Ryan couldn’t even put words on why, but he was about to blow.

Tugging her off his dick required herculean effort. He ought to get a medal.

Her glistening lips turned down. “Why do you keep stopping me?”

“Because if I don’t, I’m going to come in your pretty mouth.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” She grinned at him, all devilish temptress. “I’ve never blown a fighter pilot before.”

Boom.
That was all he needed. His head spun off into the ridiculous stories he’d been trying to hold back.

She claimed him again.
Her
territory. Sharp fingernails dug into his ass. The pressure built deep in his balls. He held on to the back of her neck, his grip way too tight. She didn’t seem to mind. Her mouth remained firm and determined. So, the groupie wanted the taste of something fast and wild? He could give her that. Right fucking now. Sizzling tingles started at the base of his feet, in his boots, and rocked up through him in a white-hot rush.

She swallowed.

Ryan’s vision tried to go gray, but he pushed it back with the last scraps of his willpower. He wasn’t going to miss a second of the avid way she licked the last drip of his come. A satisfied smile curved her mouth.

Bowing his head, he clung to the contented wash of sensation that loosened his knees and swept away the last of his tension. Cassandra had done that. Just her. She’d ripped the bones out of his limbs, taken him down to the marrow.

He’d never say a damn word about the degenerate fantasies he’d been spinning.

Not ever.

Chapter Sixteen

Cass accepted Ryan’s hand up, her knees achy. The linoleum wasn’t exactly comfy, but she hadn’t given that a thought as she sucked him off.

Wow, that she could even think such a delicious phrase threaded a wicked thrill into her skin—let alone that she’d actually done it.

Ryan’s chest heaved as he gathered her close. He nuzzled her unbound hair. Although a raging lust zinged through her body, she accepted the consequences of her actions—he needed a minute.

“So,” she said, kissing his neck. “Does that count as my bold thing?”

A deep chuckle vibrated out of his chest and into hers. “I’d hate to seem like a jerk for complaining, but that wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Either way, I got it covered.”

He pulled back to study her face. The sunlight through his living room bay window lit his irises, making them shine with more green. Some of the shell-shocked bliss faded, as if words made sense again. “What did you do?”

“Oh, no you don’t, Major. I want my turn. Now be a good boy and help me come.”

“Right away, baby.”

She would’ve thought him too exhausted after that decadent blow job, but he was still a man—a man stacked with layers of lean, strong muscle. He hefted her off the floor and hauled her over his shoulder, just as he’d threatened. Cass squealed, suddenly looking down his back. She looped her arms around his middle, overcome by a bubble of hysteria. Joy and lust mingled in her blood as he walked her to his bedroom.

Ryan pressed a kiss along her bared waist, gripping as much of her butt and upper thighs as he could palm. “Don’t move, woman. You don’t want me to drop you.”

She was still giggling, but she managed to say, “You won’t drop me.”

“No?”

“Too manly man. My own personal Neanderthal.”

“You teasing me, Miss Whitman?” He gave her a quick slap on the ass.

It wasn’t a particularly hard smack, especially through her wool dress skirt. Cass only registered a slight sting, but they both froze.

Almost awkwardly, which was a surprise considering how easily he’d handled her, Ryan set her on the floor beside his huge king-sized bed—a bed big enough for a guy his size. He ran a hand though his short hair. “Sorry,” he said gruffly.

“Hey.” She caught his forearm and kissed his knuckles. “It’s okay. I didn’t mind. In fact, it can be kind of…exciting.”

“Can be? You have experience with that?”

“I’m shy, Ryan, but I’m not a saint.” She shrugged. “Things happen in the heat of the moment. Believe me, I’ll tell you if you go too far.”

“After the fact. It shouldn’t be your responsibility to keep me in line.”

Cass inhaled, calming her ravenous body. She tipped her head but his thoughts were impossible to read. Sometimes he was too closed off, which really didn’t match his hard-charging hometown-boy persona. She tried to console herself that they hadn’t even met a week before. Not many people gave up their secrets that quickly, even if that was sometimes her impulse. After she got past the initial frigid hesitation of making a one-on-one connection, she couldn’t see the point in holding back. By then the hard part—taking the daring first step—was over.

“Look,” she said, her tone conciliatory. “There are times when I just get
really
excited. Almost…numb? A slap can be nice. It cuts through the buzz. Takes it up a notch—like a hard tickle or nibble.” A raging blush flamed across her cheeks as she spoke, crawling its way down her throat. She wanted him to understand. She didn’t want him feeling guilty, nor did she want him assuming she got off on being tortured. They were new. Communication was tough but vital. “Does that make sense? Ryan?”

He slumped onto the bed. “Sorry I overreacted. I, ah…I’m not usually one for losing control like that. Any of that.”

Well, didn’t that light her fire all over again?

Cass loved the feel of her slinky smile. “Are you saying I make you lose control, Major? Because I like the sound of that. Very much.”

He pretended to consider it for a minute. At least his humor had returned, shaping his mouth into that delectable male grin. “Seems to be, yeah.”

“See? Such a lovely caveman.”

“Next time I’ll drag you by your hair.”

She unbuttoned her blazer and shrugged it off her shoulders. “Now there’s no need to make fun.”

Her skirt came next, shimmying off her hips. Ryan’s eyes widened when he caught sight of the flesh-colored stockings and garter set. She stripped the silk camisole shell to reveal a matching beige lace bra. The color wasn’t the best on her, she knew, but the last thing she’d wanted was for her underwear to do the talking at the gallery. She wanted to save that sort of communication for Ryan.

“Now, where were we? You were going to make me come? Because that six and a half minutes seems about four months ago.”

“After you,” he said, standing. He gestured to the bed, which was covered by a lovely forest-green down comforter.

Cass lay down. She stretched fully, from the tips of her outstretched fingers to her pointed toes. The waiting tension hadn’t disappeared, making conversation possible. His bedroom was typically masculine, with white walls and the clean, strong lines of an oak dresser and nightstand. She couldn’t find anything by way of photographs or personal knickknacks. The simple refuge revealed nothing more about him than she already knew.

Her perusal ended when Ryan crossed to the windows and shut the dark green drapes, closing out the sun. It was still the middle of an ordinary Thursday. Cass was going to be his. She welcomed back a hot surge of pure lust.

The unzipped flight suit draped over his hips. A plain black T-shirt hugged every curve and ripple of his upper body—shoulders and pecs and the long line of his back. The drab and black made him look harder somehow. None of the softness that could be found in civilian clothes. Pure functionality. This was what a man wore when he went into battle.

The primal kick in Cass’s bones came as a visceral shock. She hadn’t thought herself the kind of girl to find that sort of machismo attractive, let alone so damn sexy. The undeniable violence of his profession ran right past ideas of feminism and enlightened thought, bypassing pretty theory to settle as a hot, wet rush between her legs.

She shifted her thighs. “When do you need to be back to the base?”

Ryan stepped out of the flight suit then peeled away his T-shirt. Even now, mere minutes on from his orgasm, his penis was an undeniable presence—or maybe she was simply fascinated as her gaze returned again to the bulge in his briefs. Lucky, lucky girl.

“Maybe three if I push it.” He offered an almost bashful smile. “Sometimes it’s good to be in charge.”

“Sometimes? Sounds like heaven to me.”

He knelt at the foot of the bed and worked his way up, slowly, until he sprawled between her spread thighs. No being coy—not in that pose. “Now, tell me more about this bold thing you did.”

“I thought we were waiting until after?”

“Nah. I want details. I’ll reward you accordingly.”

“Meanie. I went down on you just like that,” she said with a snap of her fingers.

Ryan caught the lace top of one stocking between his teeth, grinning up at her. Then he let it snap back against her thigh. “Not my fault you’re easy.”

She whacked him on the shoulder, laughing. “Here I thought you were a gentleman.”

“Not quite.” He stroked a thumb along the crease of her pussy. The wet fabric of her underwear molded to her folds. “Now spill. What did you do?”

Cass closed her eyes. Maybe that way she could concentrate as he unfastened her body from her thinking mind. The connection was tenuous enough already. “I talked to my boss at the gallery. Laid out my case. Said that I’d been there for nearly two years, working my cute ass off.”

“So cute,” he said, licking along the seam of her panties. His tongue teased underneath the elastic.

Her skin shimmered beneath his patient attention. This encounter had so little in common with the lunchtime quickie she’d initiated. Nothing about them was ordinary. They were…potent. Creative. Exciting. All of that helped loosen her inhibitions—as it did every time. She let her thighs relax then tugged down the lace of her bra. After wetting her fingers, she smoothed her nipples. Tweaked them. Teasing herself like Ryan did.

He hadn’t missed a single bit of it. A glance down to where he propped on his forearms revealed dark eyes and an intent expression. Cass warmed with a blush that was a small part embarrassment and a huge part passion.

“You seem to have lost the flow of your story,” he said.

“Someone’s distracting me.”

“This is nothing. Not yet.” He unhooked her garters and pulled down her underwear, all with deliberate care. “I’ll stop if you don’t continue.”

“Fine, fine.” Cass forced out a shaky sigh. “I asked him for permission to head up the next summer exhibit. The woman who’d been in charge of it had her baby six weeks early. No one was prepared for her to need time off, and obviously she’s super distracted. I’d assisted her on previous shows, so I know her contacts and her methods. Thought I’d be able to fill in and have a shot at proving myself.”

Ryan’s hands and his tongue had become languid. He pulled up to look at her fully. “And?”

The happiness she’d kept in her chest all morning came shining out. She couldn’t help but smile like a goof, no matter that he’d stripped off her panties. “He said yes. The exhibit opens in July, and I’m in charge.”

“Damn.” He edged up to lie next to her on the pillows. “That’s… Cassandra, that’s great. Really.” With a tenderness that belied their dirty deeds but that marked their relationship as something special, he smoothed the hair from her cheek. “I’m really proud of you.”