Vindicated (23 page)

The heat of his body seeped into her. His lips brushed over the top of her head. She wanted to be mad at him, but it was difficult when his heart beat beneath her ear. Her tension ebbed away within his embrace. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She didn’t want to be there. Not really. With a small sigh, she wrapped her arms around his waist and breathed in his clean scent.

“Well, you really fucked that up,” she said into his shirt.

He snorted with amusement. “Yeah. So I did. We’ll figure it out, okay?” He gently released her and stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck. The depth in his eyes as he drew in a shaking breath caught her off guard. He blinked and when he opened his eyes, they were steely gray and emotionless. The tenderness was gone from his voice. “Get your stuff. Let’s go.”

Chapter 45

A handful of stars littered the night sky as they drove back to her apartment. Randy said nothing throughout the entire trip, his face lit by the blue glow of the dash lights, expression fierce. Her fingers clenched into fists, the nails cutting into the palms of her hands. The few times she ventured to speak to him, he responded with terse one-word answers. It felt like the longest drive of her life. Relief flooded through her when her apartment building loomed into sight. He turned the truck onto her street and parked at the front entrance then walked with her to the door, hands shoved deep in his pockets. A sharp wind whistled around the corner of the building, ruffling Randy’s hair and cutting straight through her coat. She shivered and clutched the lapels tight around her neck.

“Do you want to come up?” she asked. She stood on the top step while he stood on the walk. The difference in elevation brought them eye to eye. Or would have, except he stared at the door behind her, the steps between them, or the air over her head—anywhere but at her. “I think we need to clear the air, and it’s cold out here.” The plethora of questions in her mind sparked the beginning twinges of a headache.

He didn’t answer.

“You act like you’re pissed off at me when I’m the one who should be upset.” The expression on his face darkened. She glared back at him with equal intensity. “Look. You don’t get to fuck up my night then walk away like it’s my fault.” With her index finger, she poked his massive chest. “Now start talking, mister.”

A smile ghosted his lips as their eyes met. The heat in his eyes took her breath away. For the first time, his gaze was unguarded and brimming with emotion. In one motion, he gripped the back of her head with one hand and her hip with the other, slamming his body into hers, dominating her with his size and strength. Surprise squeaked from her lips as he crushed his mouth to hers.

There was nothing easy or gentle about this kiss. His tongue, tasting of cherries, plunged into her mouth, ravaging all the deepest recesses and demanding her surrender. The strength in her legs faded as he clutched her tighter, bending her backward. Instead of trying to escape, she melted into him, her soft body conforming to the long lines of his. Her fingers tangled in his hair. A growl started deep in his throat as he ground his hips against hers, the hard ridge of his cock sharp against her belly through the fly of his jeans.

Cars drove past. Someone whistled and shouted for them to get a room, but their catcalls were lost in the fog of euphoria. She forgot where she was. The streetlights and stars faded into the darkness of night. Nothing existed outside of her and Randy. His heat chased away the cold. She struggled to get closer, to crawl inside him and never come out.

With a grunt of irritation, he released her and pushed her away as if burned by her touch. They stood staring at each other, chests heaving, and hearts thumping, their breath forming steamy clouds in the winter air. A deep furrow formed between his brows. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. Finally, he turned toward the street, his back to her, shutting her out.

“Randy, look at me.” She touched his back then dropped her hand when he flinched. “Or not. Whatever. I’m going to talk anyway.”

He didn’t move but his breathing quieted as if he were waiting to hear her words.

“You’re making me crazy, Mackenzie. You can’t drag me out of the hotel and kiss me like that…like I mean something to you…then push me away. All this back and forth is exhausting.” His head dropped as he exhaled loudly, evidence her words hit their mark. “I’m not asking for you to love me or be my boyfriend or for anything more than right now. I want you to look at me and tell me you feel something between us so I know I’m not crazy.” She wrapped her arms around her waist and stamped her feet to stave off the cold. “Am I crazy? Is it just me?”

His head came up, studying the myriad of stars overhead. Although freezing cold, the night sky was clear and bright with a half-moon casting blue shadows on the snow. She couldn’t see his face, but she felt the churning of his thoughts and emotions.

“What if I can’t?” The words sounded half choked as he spoke. “I’m not the kind of guy to go around spilling his guts and getting all mushy and shit.”

She rested her hand on his back. This time he didn’t flinch. After a second, he turned around to face her, staring down at her with frustration. He took her hand and held it in both of his, rubbing the back with his thumbs, shifting his gaze to their hands. The conflict within him showed plainly on his face. Her heart ached for him.

“It’s okay,” she said and tried to hold back the disappointment from her expression. He couldn’t give her what he didn’t possess. She knew better than anyone. “We can be friends. But you have to stop kissing me like that.”

“Like what?” He peered up at her through his lashes, thumbs still caressing her hand, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“Like you want me,” she said. “Like you care.” She floundered, too frustrated to find the proper words and unable to concentrate with her hands in his.

“You’re right,” he said after a brief silence.

More disappointment. This had all been a huge mistake. She’d projected her own feelings and emotions onto him, inventing something where it didn’t exist, wishing so desperately to have him care when he obviously didn’t. Embarrassed and angry with herself, she tried to tug her hand from his. The strong fingers tightened their grip and held her in place.

“You’re right,” he said again. “We need to go upstairs and talk about this.”

Chapter 46

By the time they climbed the stairs to her apartment, Randy’s mood seemed to have shifted again. He helped her remove her coat then pulled off his own and tossed it onto the chair next to the television. Without saying a word, he took her hand and led her into the bedroom. Tiny butterflies unfurled in her stomach at the touch of his calloused palm against her smooth one. This was the Randy she’d grown accustomed to, confident, virile, and in charge.

“Um, I’m not complaining, but I thought we were going to talk,” she said.

He stopped next to the bed and sat on the edge with her hand still in his. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he tugged her to stand between his spread knees. “We’re going to talk, alright,” he said. “After.”

After? After what?
The only sounds in the room were the ticking of her alarm clock on the nightstand and her labored breathing as she tried to wrap her mind around this latest development.

“Like I said, I’m not good at emotions and shit, but I can show you.” As he spoke, he brushed his lips along the tender flesh beneath her ear, his deep voice vibrating against her neck. “Right now, all I can think about is how I’m going to sink balls deep into you and make you come over and over.” Tiny shocks of electricity jolted into her belly as he punctuated his words with tiny licks along her neck. “Let me show you how I feel about you.”

Oh, wow. Just wow.
He didn’t seem to have any problems expressing what he was going to do to her. His words set her on fire and left her mouth agape.

While she stared at him, he released her hands and reached behind his head to grab the collar of his shirt. In a smooth motion, he pulled it off to reveal the swell and hollow of pecs and abs, and thick veins crossing over swollen biceps. The lines of the tattoo on his left arm curled over sinew and muscle, undulating with his movements. He placed his hands behind him on the mattress and leaned back to give her a better view.

She’d forgotten how luscious his body was. The trail of hair leading from his navel into the waistband of his jeans was darker than his other hair, almost black. Above his belt, the delineation of oblique muscles formed a sexy V at his hips. Below his belt, the impressive swell of his erection bulged beneath his zipper. Next to his flawless physique, she felt more than a little inadequate.

“Randy, you’re beautiful,” she whispered and hoped he saw the sincere appreciation in her eyes. Slowly, she skimmed her fingertips along the line of his jaw where the stubble tickled like plush velvet, traced the black lines of his tattoo as it curved around his neck. When she lifted her eyes to meet his, he swallowed audibly, the long muscles of his neck contracting with the effort.

“So are you,” he said. His lips curved into a small smile as his eyes darkened. “I want to watch you undress for me. Just me and no one else.”

His gaze locked with hers. She dragged in a ragged breath, unbuttoned the sweater, and tossed it on the floor. The jeans came off next, her fingers stumbling over the buttons of her fly before tugging them down with a wiggle of her hips. Breaking their stare, his gaze followed the denim as it fell to the floor then dragged up the length of her body and back to her eyes. She stood before him in bra and panties and waited for him to say something.

“You in that sexy little outfit tonight? I’ve never seen anything so fucking hot in my life,” he said, his voice rougher and deeper than usual. Heat flooded into her cheeks at the praise. “It made me crazy, Karly, to see you like that in front of other men. I didn’t like it.”

What did he mean exactly? Was he asking her to be exclusive with him or just staking a claim? She frowned, still confused, and bit her bottom lip. Or maybe he only meant for her to stay away from Cheetah. “So do you…?”

The tip of his finger pressed against her lips to silence her. “Making love first. Talking later,” he admonished.

Both of his hands went to her hips and tugged her forward. He rested his cheek over her heart and rubbed his beard lightly across the sensitive skin. The heat of his breath burned her breast through the thin cup of her bra. With a mischievous glance up at her through his lashes, he bit her nipple through the bra and tugged gently. The slight sting jolted into her womb and brought a gasp of surprise to her lips.

“Oh, God,” she muttered and fisted her hands in his hair.

“I like this bra. Leave it on, okay?” He tugged the bra cups down, causing her breasts to just over the material, nipples tight and pink. Large, calloused hands skimmed over her ribs and hips, while his lips trailed after them.

“Yeah, I’m good with that,” she said, her lips curving into a smile. “But you seem a little overdressed.”

This time, the show was for her, and he took his sweet time about it. She sat on the bed and watched him unbuckle his belt then pull it through one belt loop at a time, releasing it from his waistband with a final tug and throwing it to the floor. He unfastened the top button of his fly. The zipper growled as he lowered it to reveal the band of tight black boxer briefs beneath. He shoved his jeans to the floor, stepped out, and kicked them to the side. She rested her palms on his chest, enjoying the rise and fall of his ribs.

Their lips met. His hands slid down her back to her bottom and lifted her. With one quick move, he had her on the bed, flat on her back, legs dangling over the side of the mattress. The pads of his fingers trailed over her stomach. He feathered light kisses over her breasts and belly, stopping above the waistband of her panties. She lifted on her elbows to watch him hook his fingers in the delicate fabric and slowly slide the panties over her thighs.

“This is nice,” he said with a smirk, running a finger along the thin landing strip of reddish curls at the apex of her thighs. “Does it taste like strawberry?”

Before she could answer, he put a hand beneath her knee and lifted her leg to rest on his shoulder, opening her in front of him. With his nose, he nuzzled her, followed by the tip of his tongue parting her and nudging inside. The stubble of his beard rasped her tender thighs, heightening and overwhelming her senses. His tongue flicked the sensitive inner flesh, while his lips sucked and caressed. The sight of his broad shoulders and auburn head between her thighs stole her breath.

Tension coiled inside her. She fisted her hands in his hair and fell back on the mattress. One of his fingers slid inside her, followed by a second, and curled up, hitting the sensitive bundle of nerves in her core. Unable to stay still any longer, she jerked her hips and moaned.

“You’re so tight,” he said, his earthy growl vibrating against her thigh. “I can’t wait to bury myself inside you.” The pad of his thumb replaced his tongue and rubbed over her most receptive spot with the perfect combination of pressure and friction. “But first you’re going to come for me. Right?”

“Oh, yes.” The words came out in choked gasp as all the muscles of her inner core clenched. The touch of his fingers, moist heat of his lips, and the dirty talk had brought her to a fever pitch. Her legs trembled and thigh muscles tightened with tingles of pre-orgasmic pleasure.