Game for Marriage (10 page)

“Wait a minute…” She charged after him, anger surging through her at how easily he dismissed her. God, she was so sick of this. She wanted him. Couldn’t he see that? Did she need to wear a sign around her neck or what? Either the man was completely clueless or…

Or he didn’t want her back.

Okay, that was a reality she couldn’t face.

“We’re not doing this, Sheridan,” he threw over his shoulder, confirming her fears, his long-legged stride nearly impossible for her to keep up with.

But she did her damnedest, speeding up as quickly as she could. “Stop avoiding me, Jared.”

“You’re the one who said you weren’t in the mood.”

“To argue,” she stressed, stopping in the doorway of his bedroom, almost afraid to enter his inner sanctum. This was his private space, the one spot he was able to retreat to in the entire house without worry of intruders. It felt like an invasion of privacy, her trying to sneak in. “You know what I was implying.”

He tore off his skullcap and tossed it on the edge of the bed, then rested his hands on narrow hips, his back to her. Her gaze dropped to his very fine backside, gobbling up the delicious view with her eyes. The tension radiated off of him in palpable waves. He seemed tortured, conflicted, and she could so relate. “I’m not going to push myself on you,” he muttered.

“I’m the one who pushed myself on you.” She leaned against the doorway, feeling infinitely stupid. The man just didn’t get it. “But I guess you don’t want me. Is that it? Which is fine. I just…I guess I thought…” She hung her head, sighing loudly. Her entire body deflated like a balloon. “I don’t know what I thought.”

Shoving away from the doorframe, she turned, ready to slink off into her bedroom where she could shut the door and nurse her self-inflicted wounds. She’d boldly followed him. After throwing a minor hissy fit over freaking blueberry muffins, she’d told him exactly what she wanted. The guy had a reputation as a man whore and yet he had no interest in the woman he’d married. Granted, the marriage was fake. But still.

The knowledge hurt—tremendously.

Strong fingers gripped her arm, whirling her around so she faced a very pissed off, very edgy looking man. He pushed her against the wall, pinned her there with both his hands pressing against her shoulders and she stared up at him, her lips parting when she saw the anger and turmoil written all over his handsome face.

“You think I don’t want you.” His breathing was accelerated, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, brushing against hers, and she inhaled sharply when he removed his hand from her shoulder, drifting his curved fingers down the length of her throat so lightly she wondered if he’d actually touched her at all. “You’re fucking killing me, Sheridan.”

A shudder moved through her at his gentle touch, the feel of his fingers as they curled around her chin and tilted her face up. He lowered his head, his movements agonizingly slow, and she parted her lips, a trembling exhalation of breath leaving her when his mouth brushed hers. Her knees wobbled, threatened to buckle, and she slapped her hands against the wall, palms flat, bracing herself so she wouldn’t fall.

But Jared had her. His hand slid from her shoulder, along her side, to grip her waist. His other hand cupped the side of her face, cradling her, his fingers gentle as he continued to explore her mouth with soft, sweet kisses.

Oh, God. This was exactly what she wanted, what she needed. Jared’s hands on her, his mouth connected to hers. Their tongues touched, slid against each other sensuously, and it was as if a spark ignited into full-blown flame. The kiss turned deeper, his hard, hot body pressing her firmly against the wall, his hand slipping beneath her T-shirt to touch bare skin.

She panted against his mouth when he broke the kiss, his lids lifting to reveal those intense blue eyes, seeming to burn straight into her. Without a word, he tilted his head, his mouth against her throat, licking a blazing path along her delicate skin.

Sheridan opened her eyes to stare blindly at the ceiling. She wound her arm around his neck, thrust her fingers into his soft, silky hair, holding him to her as he licked and nibbled her neck. He lifted his head, sweeping into her, his mouth taking hers in a downright primitive kiss, their mouths wide, their tongues thrusting.

Boneless. Mindless. That’s what his kiss, his hands did to her. She thunked the back of her head against the wall, gasping when he hooked his hands behind her thighs and lifted. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling the hard, firm length of his erection push against her aching hot center, and she moaned into his mouth. Wanting more, wanting all of him.

“Does that feel like I don’t want you?” he murmured against her lips.

She couldn’t answer. It was as if her brain had shut down and she couldn’t form words. All she could do was feel. Jared, his hands on her, the taste of him, the sensation of his big, hot body all over hers. A sharp, throbbing ache rose deep within her, making her woozy.

Or maybe that was from Jared’s mouth. Or his magical hands. She didn’t know. She couldn’t think. She’d never been that lost that fast. No man had ever made her feel like that. Achy, needy, ready.

God, so ready…

More kissing, more grinding as his hand skimmed up her belly, fingers brushing the underside of her breasts. Tingles washed over her skin, her limbs shaky as she clutched him close. She didn’t know how much more she could take. Felt as if she might explode at any given moment.

“I want you, Sheridan,” he whispered near her ear. “I want to fuck you until you can’t walk. I want to hear you moan my name when you come, like you did that night in the motel room. I want to lick that swollen little clit of yours until you scream and pull my hair and beg me to stop.”

Oh, God, oh, God.
This
was what he’d referred to as dirty talk. It was hot. So hot. Her voice still lost, she nodded frantically, wanted all of that and whatever else he would do to her. She tightened her hands in his hair when he lifted his head to stare down at her. He had her pinned to the wall, his lower body holding her in place. Sliding his hands up her sides, he lifted her shirt, exposing her stomach, her ribs, her breasts.

His eyes darkened as he drank her in, his thumbs lifting to brush against her distended nipples. She sunk her teeth into her lower lip and closed her eyes, hips slowly thrusting against his erection as he circled her nipples in a maddening rhythm. “Take it off,” he commanded and she lifted her arms, let him tug the shirt off, thrilled at the demanding way he spoke to her.

“Damn, you’re pretty.” He cupped her breasts in his big palms, his thumbs still playing with her nipples, driving her crazy. She opened her eyes, didn’t want to miss a moment of the delicious seduction. All that powerful male beauty focused on her pleasure, it was a heady realization. And he was all hers—at least temporarily. “I bet I could make you come, just like this.”

She bet he could, too. Everything within her was focused on the throbbing spot between her legs. Even through their layers of clothing, she could feel him. Long, thick, hot. So incredibly hot. Without thinking she reached for him, slid her hand between their bodies, over the front of his shorts.

Oh.
He was even bigger than she remembered. She stroked him, parting her lips on a sigh when she heard his agonized groan, knowing she did that to him.

…

Sheridan’s slender fingers exploring his dick would be his undoing. No way was Jared going to explode in his shorts like some teenage kid experiencing his first time with a girl. He had control, knew how to use it and not make an ass of himself.

He’d always prided himself on how singular he was in his focus to bring a woman pleasure. Most men were selfish bastards, only caring about getting theirs, leaving their women to fend for themselves.

Not Jared. He enjoyed being responsible for a woman’s pleasure.

So why did this woman get under his skin and make him want to lose all control? He was fucking dying to watch her when he made her come, forget taking it slow, forget all his usual moves. It had been too long since that one night together and they’d both been a little buzzed. The memories were blurred.

But right now, all he could focus on were those agile little fingers gripping his cock, stroking him. Making his eyes cross. Making his balls draw up, a sure sign he was gonna blow.

Gripping her wrist, he moved her hand away from him. If his cock could protest, it would be wailing right about now. And any other time, he would’ve found the incredulous expression on Sheridan’s face amusing.

Not at the moment, though. His mouth was grim, his jaw tight. Trying to keep it together when he wanted nothing more but to thrust against her again and again in that exquisite rhythm he knew would get them both off.

“Why did you stop me?” She sounded breathless, sexy as hell. Her skin was flushed, her eyes wide, dilated. Her hair was everywhere, she looked incredibly turned on, and hell if that didn’t turn him on too.

“Because it’s your turn first, baby,” he murmured, pressing her firmly against the wall so he could slip his hand beneath her flimsy shorts. Encountering simple cotton panties, he rubbed over the front of them, felt how wet the fabric was, and smiled. She wanted him. Bad. She’d admitted that, had chased him down when he ran from her because damn, she was temptation personified and he wasn’t about to screw that up again by making her uncomfortable. Not because of that stupid clause, and not because of whatever else he might do to ruin this fragile…thing they shared.

She sighed as he touched her, her swollen lips parted, lids low, golden gaze smoldering. Beautiful in her aroused state. He kept one hand firmly cupping her sex while he leaned in and kissed her, searched her mouth with his tongue. All the while he caressed her, lightly, teasing her, trying to drive her wild with lust because that’s how he felt.

Wild for her.

“Jared,” she breathed his name, the whispery sound of her sweet voice sending a bolt of sensation throughout his entire body. He’d almost kill to hear her say his name like that again. Like he was the only one who could solve all her problems with a few precise thrusts of his fingers.

“You like that?” He snuck his fingers beneath the very edge of her panties, encountering scant hair, the heat of her radiating across his fingers.

“More,” she whispered. “Touch me.”

A woman who asked for what she wanted. He could appreciate that. Without hesitation he slid his fingers farther, tracing her slit, pressing until he was searching her wet folds. A shuddering breath escaped her when he circled her clit. A little scream left her when he slid one, then two fingers inside her, pumping slowly in and out of her welcoming body.

They were out of control. Standing in the hallway of his house, a perfectly huge bed a few feet away. Yet he had Sheridan held against the wall, his fingers busy beneath her panties, her breathy little sighs and impatient thrusts against his hand telling him she was close to orgasm.

Sheridan. His wife. The one he had the marriage clause with. Where they weren’t supposed to have sex or else the contract would become null and void.

“Oh, God. Oh, God…” She was panting, her hips thrusting against his hand. She was so damn close. He couldn’t leave her high and dry.

With expert precision he thrummed her clit with his thumb, watched with utter satisfaction as she stilled, her expression frozen, her entire body seemingly paralyzed before the shudders overtook her completely.

“That’s it,” he murmured close to her ear, still playing with her, fingers still thrusting deep inside her heat. “Come for me.”

She moaned, whispered his name once, then again, and still she kept on coming. Until he knew she was completely spent, the tiny shudders wracking her body the only indication she was coming down from what appeared to be a pretty damn intense orgasm. And he was the one who did that to her. A surge of pride moved through him at the realization.

“Wow.” Sheridan blinked her eyes into focus, the look of utter satisfaction on her face making his cock twitch with eagerness.
Yeah, down boy. So not going to happen.
“That was…amazing.”

“Yeah, well.” He withdrew his hand from beneath her panties, released his hold on her so she had no choice but to stand on her own two feet again. She was a little wobbly, he couldn’t help but notice as he reached out to set her right, making sure she was stable before he let her go. “We can’t do anything else.”

Her eyebrows crinkled into a frown. “What do you mean?”

“The clause, remember?”

She smiled, reaching for his crotch but he dodged her just in time. If those deft hands touched him again, he couldn’t be held responsible for what he’d do. “Please. Like you’re going to let that stand in your way? I can keep a secret.”

“We take it too far, there’s no going back,” he warned. “We can lose everything, Sheridan.”

The look she flashed him was pure seduction. “Maybe I don’t want to go back.” Those fingers of hers danced across his chest, his skin tightening even with the shirt he wore as a barrier from her touch. “I could give you the best blowjob of your life right now if you’d let me.”

He bet she could. Her confidence was sexy. He could envision that lush mouth wrapped tight around his cock, sliding up and down, lips parted invitingly as he came down her throat…

Hell. He broke out into a sweat just thinking about it.

“We can’t do this. I’m not risking it.”

Her jaw dropped open, and he knew she was going to protest, but he turned away. Before he did something really stupid.

Like drag her into his bedroom, caveman-style.

“So you don’t trust me.” Her voice was flat.

“I never said that,” he started but she glared at him. All signs of the gloriously satisfied woman of a few moments ago were long gone.

“You didn’t have to. I tell you I can keep our secret and you still turn me away. I would say it’s pretty obvious you don’t trust me.”

“Fine.” He threw his hands up into the air. “I don’t trust you. I can’t freaking trust
myself
. I don’t trust anyone, Sheridan—I can’t, not in my profession. Not after what’s happened to me. People close to me would stab me in the back with a smile on their face if that meant they could make a shit ton of money off my story.”