The Billionaire's Voice (The Sinclairs #4) (13 page)

Her gaze lifted until she could see his face clearly in the large mirror over the counter, her core flooding with liquid heat as she caught his expression. His eyes were dark and filled with a desperate need that echoed in her soul. For a moment, their gazes caught and held in the reflective glass, both of them communicating without words.

Finally, Micah seemed to snap, and he moved forward, urged her legs apart with his feet, then pushed urgently on her back. His feral longing was contagious, and Tessa leaned forward and placed her palms on the bathroom vanity, her only thought getting him inside her.

Her head dropped and her back arched as she felt his fingers delving between her thighs. “Please. Don’t wait,” she panted, knowing she couldn’t take his teasing right now.

She lifted her head as he tugged on her wet hair, knowing instinctively that he wanted to say something.

“This is exactly what I wanted to do since the moment I saw you in that bathroom in the guesthouse. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you right there in the bathroom until the ache to have you went away.” Her sheath contracted as she read his words in his
voice
, a low, husky sound that she could imagine in her mind.

It was hard to believe that somebody like Micah had felt instant lust when she’d been nothing more than the cleaning lady at the Sinclair guest homes. She’d been dressed in her oldest clothing, and she’d come there from a snowstorm. That couldn’t have been an enticing sight, but she believed him. Even then, she’d wanted him, too. But she’d also been staring at his nude body straight from the shower. Her attraction made sense. His . . . not so much.

“Do it now, then,” Tessa begged as she met his hungry eyes. “Do it.”

“I plan on it,” he said, the muscle in his jaw ticking with restraint. “It’s like living out a fantasy I’ve had for a long time.”

His fingers teased her clit, then moved through her slick heat like he owned it. She moaned and let her head drop back down again, unable to speak even if she wanted to, as she felt the head of his cock finally probing the entrance to her channel.

She pushed her hips back eagerly as Micah surged forward, then she whimpered in ecstasy as he seated himself to the root.

“Yes,” she cried out, her entire body quivering in anticipation.

He grasped her hips, hammering into her as she quickly caught his frenzied pace and pushed back to meet every thrust.

Micah fucked just like he lived his life: fast, furious, and like a force of nature that couldn’t be stopped.

Not that Tessa
wanted
him to stop. She loved it when Micah reacted to her like this, as though she was the only thing in the world he wanted, needed. It was that very intensity that made being with him so raw, so incredibly carnal that she lost herself to the ferociously erotic reaction her body had to Micah’s merciless pursuit of her orgasm.

Her climax didn’t do a slow approach. It steamrolled over her as Micah sought and found her clit, fingering boldly as he pummeled into her again and again.

“Oh, God. Micah!” she screamed as her muscles clenched around his cock.

He grasped her hips harder, surging hard a few more times before he stopped, spilling his warm release deep inside her.

Her body still trembling, Tessa lifted her head to watch him. His head was tilted slightly back, the big muscles in his neck flexing, his expression ravaged as he opened his mouth in what she knew was a silent roar of triumph.

In that moment, she wished that she could hear him as he came, but she satisfied herself with watching his big, glorious body shudder, knowing that he’d had the same mind-blowing sensations that she’d experienced.

She was in his arms within moments, her exhausted, limp, and spent body being supported by Micah’s strength as he lifted her ass onto the counter and cradled her head against his shoulder. Tessa sighed as his hand slid up and down her naked back, and she found a resting place for her arms around his neck.

Her mind and body relaxed, feeling Micah’s chest rise and fall against her, the pace steadily decreasing as they both caught their breath.

It’s like the calm after a storm.

Tessa had come to realize that, although she’d been surviving, she hadn’t been living until she’d met Micah, until she’d had him to challenge her to reach higher. She’d been coasting through life, but she’d never really been happy for most of her entire adult life. Maybe when she’d been younger and skating, her ambitions had consumed her. But somewhere along the way, she’d lost who she was and what she’d wanted from life. Yeah, her life had changed irrevocably, but she’d let herself and other people set some pretty tame limits on what she could and couldn’t do because she was deaf.

Now, she understood that she had very few limits unless she wanted them. Of course, there were always going to be things she couldn’t do, but that was probably true for most people for one reason or another.

Hadn’t her unexpected battle with meningitis taught her that life was fleeting and so very short to put things off because of fear? Maybe it hadn’t back then, but she could see so much more clearly now.

She hugged Micah tighter, knowing the day would come when she’d have to let go, but she wasn’t going to regret what had happened between them. Ever. The pain of letting go would never outweigh the experience of being with him, even if it only lasted a little while.

When they finally disentangled themselves, she saw a sudden worried thought pass over his expression.

“What?” she asked, reaching out to catch his arm.

“Tessa, I didn’t use a condom. I didn’t use a fucking condom!” Micah raked his hand through his wet hair.

Her heart dropped as she realized they’d both been so caught up in the moment that the thought of using protection hadn’t even crossed their minds. Micah was upset with himself, and understandably so, but at least she could rid him of his concerns.

Tightening her hand on his arm, she said, “I was checked after I was with Rick. I’m clean of any type of disease, and right before I got sick, I got a ten-year IUD put in. I thought I was going to get married, and I wasn’t planning a family anytime soon.” Actually, now that she thought about it, she wasn’t even sure Rick had even wanted kids. The long-term birth control had been his idea. “I didn’t have it removed. I won’t get pregnant. Trust me. I won’t let you fall,” she said softly, hoping he’d lighten up.

Micah took her by the shoulders and stared down at her. “You think I was worried about that? I want—” He stopped and started again. “I need for you to trust me, Tessa. I’ve never
not
used a condom, and you know it’s been a while for me, but I don’t do that shit. I don’t
forget
to use a damn condom. It was a fucking stupid thing for me to do. I’m clean, but what if I wasn’t? Jesus, Tessa! Don’t ever trust a guy who is panting after you to not wear a condom.”

Her mind finally cleared, understanding what he was trying to say in his convoluted explanation. She smiled as she tightened her arms around his neck. “So are you saying I shouldn’t trust you? You’re the only man I’m sleeping with right now.”

“No. That’s not what I’m saying. I was speaking generally.”

She rubbed her breasts against his chest. “I’m speaking specifically,” she replied. “If I’m only sleeping with you, we’re both clean, and I’m on birth control, can I trust you?”

“Hell, yes, you can trust me. Do you think my dick is really going to get hard for anybody else right now? It’s fucking fixated on you.”

“Then trust me and try it again. I’d kind of like to finish what I started in the shower.”

Her heart raced as she watched his anguished expression. She understood what he meant, that he never wanted her to trust another guy to always tell her the truth. His heavy breath wafted across her cheek as she moved closer to him and she asked, “Do you trust me?”

“You I trust. Other men . . . no, I damn well don’t.”

“I’m not with any other men right now.”

“Thank fuck! And you never will be, so this discussion is unnecessary anyway.”

His mouth crashed down on hers so fast that she never did get to ask him what he meant, and it was quickly forgotten as Micah’s sensual assault to her senses made her forget that anything else but him existed.

CHAPTER 12

Later that evening, Julian ducked into Shamrock’s Pub more out of necessity than because he wanted a beer. Quickly taking a rickety seat by one of the windows, he opened the threadbare curtain and looked out at Main Street, hoping to hell he’d lost his group of adoring fans.

Slumping back in the chair when he didn’t see anybody coming, he pulled off his baseball cap and sunglasses, dropping them onto the table.

“Running from the police?” he heard a sarcastically sweet voice ask from the bar.

He looked up and saw Kristin minding the tavern . . . again. Was anybody else ever here except her? She already had a full-time job in Sarah’s office. Why was she always here?

“Not lately. But you never know,” he shot back halfheartedly, not feeling like arguing with the sharp-tongued redhead tonight.

I’d rather fuck her until she stops talking and starts screaming.

His dick was already at attention just from looking at her. Kristin embodied every physical asset that turned him on. Unlike most guys in Hollywood, the last thing he wanted was a skinny model. He liked women who enjoyed food, and he was a large man. He wanted a curvy female with some flesh on her bones and an ass that he could actually grasp while he was pummeling into her body.

Unfortunately, the woman who haunted his wet dreams obviously hated him. Maybe that was why he wanted her so badly. Not only was Kristin beautiful, but she wasn’t about to drop at his feet and submit. More likely, she’d knee him in the balls and walk away. Maybe he was a masochist, but he kind of liked that about her.

“What are you looking for?” she asked curiously.

“My fan club,” he answered glumly. “Can I have a beer? And no milk. I already ate.”

He watched as she pulled out a frosted mug and brought him whatever they had on tap. Not that he was picky. He could tell by the lightness of the liquid in the glass that it wasn’t a dark, bitter brew, which was the only kind he really didn’t like.

She set the mug down in front of him, placing a napkin underneath.

“You look better,” she observed, reaching out to turn his face toward her.

“I’m a fast healer,” he answered flatly, letting her examine his features. Her touch was impersonal but light and soft, so he let her check him out as long as she wanted.

Unfortunately, she dropped her hand almost immediately, and he was kind of disappointed. “Not busy tonight?”

The joint was empty except for him. He seemed to be the only customer.

She shrugged and crossed her arms in front of her. “It’s late, and it’s after Labor Day. The town gets quiet during the off-season. You missed the crowd. There must have been six or seven people here earlier,” she informed him sarcastically.

Julian smirked, amused that she could throw out those kinds of comments with a perfectly straight face.

He motioned toward the chair across from him. “Then sit. Have a beer with me.”

“I don’t mingle with customers.”

“Bullshit. You probably know most of the people in this town.”

“Okay. Maybe I just don’t want to talk to
you
,” she answered tartly.

He shook his head. “That’s not it. It’s because I kissed you the other day, and now you’re uncomfortable.”

“Is not,” she denied emphatically.

“It was an amazing kiss, by the way,” he drawled.

“Not that great. I’ve had better,” she protested. “And if you have a fan club, why bother kissing me at all?”

“Because I didn’t want to kiss anybody in my fan club,” he answered, locking eyes with her. “I wanted to kiss
you
.”

He watched, amused, as she opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. It was the first time she’d ever looked the least bit flustered.

She wrinkled her brow and looked at him quizzically. “Why? You have women dropping at your feet.”

“Not the right kind of woman.” He took a slug of beer and motioned for her to sit again.

She turned, her ponytail swaying as she made her way to the back of the bar and pulled out a chilled Diet Coke, came back to the table, and sat across from him. “I’m not really joining you. My feet hurt.” She popped the lid on the can and took a long gulp of the soda. “Besides, I’m done cleaning up, and I can’t lock up until you leave or it hits closing time.” She hesitated before she asked, “Are you really being bothered here in town? Most people are pretty used to seeing the Sinclair brothers, and you guys have been here before. We usually mind our own business.”

“Usually nobody bothers any of us. But these girls all look young,” he admitted disgustedly.

“Like how young?”

He shrugged. “Probably just old enough to drink.”

“And you’re so old?” Kristin said teasingly as she picked up his sunglasses. “Honestly, I think wearing sunglasses at night is probably a dead giveaway that you’re hiding.” She shook her head sadly and picked up the hat. “And since when are you a Patriots fan? You live in California.”

He snatched the cap from Kristin’s hand. “I didn’t just buy that. I grew up on the East Coast. I don’t like California teams. I’ve always been a Pats fan.”

She gave him a doubtful look. “Okay. But I’d definitely lose the sunglasses at night.”

Julian had been trying to stay on the down low for so long that he hadn’t even thought about wearing the glasses after dark. Usually, if he was going out after the sun set, it was for a work function, so it didn’t matter if he was recognized. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

“Does it ever get old? Being famous, I mean? It has to suck not being able to go anywhere without bodyguards in a crowd.” She took another sip of her soda and looked at him questioningly.

It got old really fast, and Julian had been over it almost from the start. He hadn’t gotten into the business for stardom or fame. He was in it because he loved movies and telling a good story. “It’s part of the job. Even if it’s something I hate, there’s parts of every job that people aren’t going to like. If you’re successful, you don’t have much of a choice except to deal with it.”

She looked surprised. “You really don’t like having women panting after you?”

He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “I wouldn’t say that. If
you
wanted to pant after me, I wouldn’t run away,” he answered in a low, husky tone. “Hell, I’d love to let you catch me.”

Kristin rolled her eyes at him and snorted. “Dream on, Hotshot. I never have liked being part of a crowd of groupies.”

He smirked at her, enjoying her denial. Julian actually liked Kristin. He always had. She spoke her mind, and she definitely didn’t worship famous people. Honestly, he didn’t think she gave a damn whether he was famous or not.

“Do you like my movies?” he asked curiously.

She didn’t speak for a moment, finally answering, “I only saw your first one. But yeah, I liked it. You deserved to be awarded for it. You’re an amazing actor, and you brought life into the character, made the movie seem . . . real. I haven’t seen the others.”

“Don’t bother with the most recent one,” he warned her. “But you might like the second one.”

“I haven’t had a chance to see it. What’s wrong with the last one?”

“Not enough heart,” he answered stoically. “If people like special effects, it’s good. But it doesn’t have much emotional substance.”

“And that bothers you? It was a big-budget movie.”

“That might be the problem. Too much money on bling and not enough guts in the screenplay.” When he’d signed on to do the film, he’d hoped that once it was produced, it would come to life. But it hadn’t turned out much different from the screenplay, which was all lights, stunts, and sound.

“Why do it if you didn’t like it?” Kristin questioned.

“I guess I was hopeful that it would turn out differently. It had a huge budget, but most of it got spent on the effects. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a fun flick. The action is nonstop, but it’s not something that will touch anybody here.” He put his hand on his heart.

“Sometimes, maybe that’s okay. People go to movies to escape from their lives in lots of situations. I know some people will love that. A few hours of fun on the big screen is still important. It’s escapism.” Kristin’s tone was sincere.

Julian studied her face, realizing she was actually being honest with him, and he started to wonder if she wasn’t right. He’d enjoyed doing something different. Even though he didn’t see it as something that might touch people on a deep level, maybe it wasn’t
always
necessary to be touched that deeply. “So sometimes it’s just okay to be entertained?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Underneath your sarcasm, you’re pretty insightful, Red.”

“I hate that name,” she said through gritted teeth.

Julian saw a glimpse of hurt cross her beautiful face, and he was instantly regretful that he’d ruined an actual discussion between them. “I’m sorry, Kristin. I was teasing. I never meant to be mean.”

She shrugged it off, but Julian could tell that he’d touched a nerve with her. Unfortunately, just as he wanted to expand on his apology, he spotted his Amesport fan club. “Shit! Here they come. How in the hell did they find me?”

Kristin shot out of her chair and grabbed his hand, tugging him across the room and then behind the bar. “Get down,” she hissed as she put her elbows on the worn counter.

Julian felt ridiculous as he crouched behind the bar, but he didn’t feel like interacting with a crowd of hysterical young women tonight. He’d already tried to reason with them, and they’d practically ripped his clothes from his body. They weren’t polite, and they were far from reasonable.

“Ladies? Can I help you?” Kristin asked casually as the crowd of young women came through the door.

“We’re looking for Julian Sinclair!” a high, excited voice exclaimed.

Kristin shook her head. “Sorry. I can’t help you. And we don’t chase people down like rabbits in this town. The Sinclairs are part of this community, and we respect the whole family for what they’ve done to help Amesport.”

The same overenthusiastic woman answered. “Oh, we don’t live here. We’re just here to find Julian. We heard he was here. We’re his biggest fans.”

“If you care about him that much, then you’d let him have his privacy. I understand he’s dating a woman in this town, and I don’t think he’d appreciate you screwing that up for him.”

There was a chorus of groans as the women were notified that he might be off the eligible-bachelor market.

“He’s getting married?” another female asked in a disappointed voice.

Kristin shrugged. “He might be. Look, ladies, Julian Sinclair is just a man like any other. You don’t even know him. Maybe he’s not worth going crazy over. Personally, I think you have to
know
a guy to actually like him.”

“But he’s so hot.”

“He’s amazing.”

“He’s gorgeous.”

Kristin broke into the barrage of compliments. “I’ve heard he can also be a real dickhead,” she told the women with an enormous eye-roll. “Being handsome could never make up for that.”

“Sometimes it can,” one of the females whined. “But if he’s off the market, I guess we should give up. We have to get back home anyway. Our parents are going to be pissed that we took off a few days at the college to drive to Amesport.”

“I’m sure they won’t be happy,” Kristin told them ominously. “But the fewer days you miss, the easier it will be for you.”

The young women left looking heartbroken. Kristin strolled over to the door as the last girl left, flipped the sign to “Closed,” then turned the lock on the door.

Julian rose up and watched her as she sauntered back to the bar. “You heard I was a dickhead?” he asked, amused. “And who am I marrying here in Amesport?”

“Nobody. But you wanted them off your back. It worked. They’re going home now that they think you’re off the market.”

Julian frowned. “Did somebody actually say they thought I was a dickhead?”

“Nope. I made that up myself. But I’m sure somebody has said it somewhere.”

He laughed because he couldn’t stop himself. Kristin was about the crankiest woman he’d ever met, but he liked her style. No bullshit. No pretension. As he recovered, he admitted, “I owe you. Thanks.”

“Don’t think I won’t collect,” she warned him. “It’s not like you’re even a friend.”

Still smiling, he strode over to his table. He put his sunglasses on the visor of his cap and jammed it back on his head. “I look forward to you collecting, Kristin. Anything you want is yours. You were amazing—except maybe for the dickhead part.”

He walked over to the door, unlocked it, and then cracked it open. “But you’re very right about one thing.” He turned and looked at her, not missing the fact that she looked flushed.

She put her hands on her hips. “And what’s that?”

His gaze roamed hungrily over her flame-colored hair, her soft skin, and her curvaceous body as he answered mysteriously, “I am definitely just a man.”

There was no answer, and Julian didn’t expect one as he walked through the door and closed it softly behind him.