Feverish (Bullet #3) (14 page)

“Oh, God, anything and everything. We’ve been
avoiding the main tourist attractions and going to the little
villages, visiting out-of-the-way spots, and it’s been incredible.”
There was a knock on his door. He turned his head. “I’m on the
phone.” The knocking continued. “Just a sec.” One thing Emily
noticed was that the signal this time was better than the last. He
stuck his head out the door, and Emily could hear him talking but
she couldn’t make out the words. Then he shut the door and came
back to the desk where he’d been sitting and talking. “Anyway, I
think my favorite country in Europe is France.”

“Why?”

The knocking on his door started again. “Damn
it. Go away!” This time Emily could hear giggling—female
giggling—outside his door. “Just ignore them.”

She could try. “So tell my why France is your
favorite.”

This time the door opened, and two young
girls entered—one fully clothed and the other topless. Bryce got up
and tried to shove them out the door, but one of grabbed his crotch
and said, “I want your dick.”

Emily tried not to think the worst, but it
wasn’t looking good. Still, she didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
“Get out of here!” Bryce shoved them out the door again. They
opened it once more, but he closed it again and finally leaned
against it. She couldn’t see him well, but he looked angry and
sheepish. She’d forgotten to ask what country he was in. Maybe they
were just extra friendly wherever he was. “Sorry, Em.” After
another minute, he came back to the computer.

“So what was that all about?”

He shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

“Where are you anyway?”

“In a hotel.” He took a deep breath. Emily
could tell he was quite flustered. “So where were we anyway?”

The girls broke in again, giggling, and both
had their tops off. They were pretty well endowed in the chest
department and suddenly Emily felt almost inadequate. “Bryce-y,
baby, the party can’t start without you.”

He exploded. “I’m talking to my
girlfriend
here. Would you get the fuck out of here?”

One of the girls said, “Wife?”

Emily started feeling a little frosty.
“Fiancé—as in,
engaged to be married
. Bryce, what the hell
is going on?”

“Get the fuck out of here, ladies.” He got up
and shoved them out of the room again.

As he started walking back yet again, Emily
repeated her question. “What’s going on over there, Bryce?
Something I should be worried about?”

He was still angry. “Look, Em. Here’s the
deal. This is my last shot before we get married. So I’m having a
little fun, okay? You can understand that, right?”

Her heart sank. She blinked twice and
swallowed, then ensured her voice was steady when she said, “What
exactly is a little fun?”

He shrugged. “You know.”

“No, I assure you I don’t. Just have the guts
to be honest with me, Bryce. Are you sleeping with those
women?”

She knew by now that she’d know, no matter
what he said. Bryce wasn’t good at lying, and she suspected she
already knew the answer. “You don’t really wanna know, Em.”

Another gulp of air. “I do.” She needed him
to say it.

He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Fine, Em.
Yes, I am fucking those women out there, okay? But it means
nothing. I got needs, Em. But I love you, and I swear to God you
won’t have to worry about it when I get back.”

Without another thought, her finger swirled
on the mousepad on her laptop. She knew her face was emotionless,
as it should be. “Goodbye, Bryce.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. Don’t hang up on me, Em.
Don’t—”

She did. But that wasn’t enough. Then she
closed Skype and shut down the computer so he could call all he
wanted. And while she was at it, she grabbed her phone and powered
it off, just in case.

She sat on her bed, feeling numb. She didn’t
want or need to cry, and yet she felt two tears trickling down her
cheeks. She swiped them off and took a deep breath. She could do
this.

Chapter Fourteen

EMILY HAD BEEN resting her head on her
pillow. She had no more tears, no more than the two that had
dropped right after she’d closed her laptop lid, but she’d felt
numb, and she had to work through it to find her heart again. Once
she felt able to process, although still raw, she sat up.

She heard Clay playing his guitar in the
music room. He was working on a new song, but she hadn’t heard it
enough to recognize it…yet. But she loved it so far.

She took a deep breath and stood. She drank
the rest of the water in the glass on the nightstand and then
walked across the room. No longer numb, she felt like she needed
companionship. No, she needed more. Much more. She knew what she
wanted. She pulled her engagement ring off her finger and threw it
on her dresser. It rolled and bounced off the mirror, spinning
until it slowed and stopped.

She cracked the door to Clay’s music room
open and peeked in. He was sitting on the loveseat on one side of
the room, strumming and listening to the sound coming out of the
smaller amp on the floor. Emily walked in. She didn’t know if
leaving the door open would ruin the acoustics, so she shut it
behind her quietly.

He was a sight. He was completely absorbed in
his music, and she didn’t want to interrupt him, so she sat on a
stool near the door. After a few seconds, though, he looked up at
Emily and stopped fingering the guitar. He smiled. “What’s up?”

She felt better just because of the way he
was looking at her. She knew what she needed. She could feel her
heart thudding in her chest, but she had to force the words out of
her mouth. “I, uh…I need to talk to Jet.”

He squinted his eyes, not fully registering
her words at first. He sucked in a deep breath and stood, resting
his guitar in the stand at the end of the loveseat. “You sayin’
what I think you’re sayin’?”

Her breathing seemed so loud in her own ears,
but she couldn’t make it quieter. She stood and nodded. “Yeah.”

She took a tentative step toward him, but he
was in front of her in seconds. She wasn’t quite sure how it had
happened, but it was as though they let the electricity between
them take over. Her arms were around his waist, his hands in her
hair drawing her close, and their lips collided as they gave in to
everything they’d been holding back for so long.

His kiss was deliberate and delicious, his
tongue, warm and smooth but firm and insistent. In those first few
moments, her body primed itself for his touch. In reality, though,
she knew she’d been primed for this man for a long time. She was
just now giving in to her needs.

He pulled back a little and asked, “You sure
you want this?” She nodded. “What about your fiancé?”

“He’s not my fiancé anymore.”

Clay raised his eyebrows. “What about
crossing the employer/ employee line you were worried about?”

“I don’t give a fuck.” She stood on her
tiptoes to kiss him again, but she didn’t have to stretch for long.
The kiss was magic, even more so than the first one. Suddenly, all
her nerves were tingling, eager for him, wanting to feel him all
over. Emily could feel his snakebite piercings against her lip, and
she thrilled at the feeling. She’d never kissed a man who had
facial piercings before, especially on his lips, and she was
relishing the sensation. She got the feeling that Clay hadn’t taken
her seriously, though, because he was kissing her, but his hands
hadn’t moved. She loved the feeling of them against her
skull—possessive, dominating, and hot—but she didn’t just want to
kiss him. She wanted all of him.

And of all days for him to actually wear a
shirt. But maybe that was a good thing, because she could move the
action forward. She grabbed his shirt at the bottom to pull it up
over his head, but once she had it up past his pecs, she broke away
from his kiss to touch his chest with her tongue. She’d been
peeking at it over the past month but now she could take it all in.
He had so many lovely, colorful tattoos on his torso, but she
hadn’t been able to study them. She couldn’t now, either, but she
could see them up close. There was a red dragon amongst them, but
it was out of her eyesight as she zeroed in on a nipple. There was
a ring hanging from it that she just had to lick. She heard the air
escaping through his teeth, and that’s when she knew he was just as
turned on as she was. Thank heavens, because she needed a good
fucking, not just from someone who wasn’t Bryce, but she needed
something different, something more, and she thought Clay was just
the man to deliver.

His hands had moved through her hair to the
back of her head as he let out another breath of air, and he pulled
her lips back up to meet his in another kiss. His shirt was still
bunched up under his arms and her hands, exploring the musculature
of his torso, kept it raised. He smelled spicy, and she knew it was
the scent of whatever cologne he was wearing. His kiss was firmer
this time, hot and demanding, and she felt her panties grow damp as
his fingers tugged on her hair. He pulled his hands through the
length of it, forcing her head back and exposing her neck. She
could hear how ragged and shallow her breathing had grown as he
kissed the length of her neck down to where the edge of her tank
top dipped, showing off a hint of cleavage.

God, her pussy was already taut, ready to
clench itself around his cock, and while she loved the
anticipation, she didn’t want to wait. Feeling impatient, she
grabbed his shirt again, but she froze as his tongue slid between
her breasts. It was way too early in the game for making noise, but
she couldn’t help the faint groan she uttered. She was already
close and wanted him inside her, but he seemed to be having fun
taking his time.

She couldn’t complain about his technique
thus far. He was damn good. He let go of her hair and helped her
take his shirt off. Then he said, “You sure you wanna do this?”

She smiled. “Yeah, totally sure.”

“I’m so glad you said that.” He led her to
the loveseat and she lay down first. He lay on top of her, and it
was awkward, with his legs mostly dangling off because he was a lot
taller than the loveseat was long. Still, she was able at last to
feel his iron dick digging into her, right where she wanted him. He
ground it into her a few times until her breathing became erratic
again, and he said in her ear, “My cock has been aching for a taste
of you, baby.”

She let out another breath of air, almost a
laugh but not quite. Had he really been lusting for her that badly?
Well, she was aching to drink him in too, but her mouth couldn’t
form the words. She wanted him, wanted him so badly her brain had
stopped working, and she was operating on some of the most basic
instincts she had. In one swift motion, he pulled on the bottom of
her tank top, bringing it up to her bra. She had to sit up some so
he could get it over her head, and she grabbed it at that point to
pull it the rest of the way off. His hands were then just under her
shoulder blades arching her back, coaxing her breasts up to his
mouth as though she were a meal and she was his last. And as she
curved her chest as was his bidding, he was kissing down her
cleavage again. He lay her back down and eased his hands around her
sides until both hands cupped the side of each breast. He eased one
hand over the top, teasing her pebbled nipple, and then he
unclasped the front of the bra. She shoved her hands in his hair,
almost violently, needing to feel grounded. With his hand, he
brushed the cup off the top of her left breast and kissed up the
side from the cleavage to the areola. Then he licked the nipple and
she gasped and arched again. He drew her nipple into his mouth as a
heavy breath escaped her mouth.

He released it and then licked down the slope
of her breast to her cleavage again. His other hand loosened the
other bra cup, and as he kissed up the side, she could feel the
vibration of his voice as he talked. “I gotta know…are you one of
these women who isn’t completely wiped out by an orgasm?”

She could barely make her throat work, and
when she was able to get the words out, she was surprised by how
guttural her voice sounded. “What do you mean?”

He nipped at her areola and then licked her
again. She could feel the breath of a slight chuckle before he
spoke again. “Can you have a ton of orgasms before you pass
out?”

She smiled too, in spite of how desperate she
felt. “With the right guy and the proper motivation.”

He looked up. His eyes were so dark, they
looked like chocolate, even though she knew they were green. “Good.
Then brace yourself, ‘cause number one is coming right up.”

She felt the heat flush between her legs as
she anticipated his touch. His fingers closed around the button on
her shorts, but his lips never left her flesh, kissing a path down
her abdomen, almost a straight line, as his fingers opened the
shorts and pulled the zipper down. When he saw the lacy pink
panties that matched the bra, he said, “How’d I know you’d be one
of those women who likes to match?”

She could barely concentrate as his hot
fingers pulled down on both her panties and shorts at the same time
until they were off. “You don’t like that?”

“I didn’t say that.” His hands were back on
her leg, lifting it up on his shoulder. “I like that attention to
detail.” As he picked up her other leg and lifted it on his other
shoulder, she took in another sharp breath of air. He kissed the
inside of her thigh. “Shows you give a shit.” He zeroed in on her
pussy, and she could feel his breath on her. “I like it.” She felt
his fingers on her labia, pulling them apart, and he didn’t waste
any time. His tongue—hot like his fingers—stroked the length of her
clit, and he took his time…once, twice, then three times, and she
felt the muscles in her thighs clench. She shoved her hands back in
his hair, unable to control herself. He stopped and so she opened
her eyes to look at him. Then he smirked at her and licked her
again, but this time it was rapid fire, designed to bring her to
orgasm quickly. She almost laughed, having thought he’d
designed
his technique, but goddamn, she was close, so
close. She could feel the chemical rush to her brain, the precursor
to a mind-blowing climax, and she took a deep breath, willing it
on. She tilted her pelvis up a little more, knowing it would help.
She let out a small moan, ready to feel it crash over her full
force.