IOU Sex Part 4

He groaned. Lifting his head, he pinned me with a serious look. "Tell me you want me."

"I do want you," I admitted. "Badly."

His head bent again and his tongue flicked over the other nipple, making me moan.

"You told me I never had to beg," I reminded him.

"Just making sure you're ready for me."

"I think you already know the answer to that. You made me ridiculously wet."

"I like you ridiculously wet. And insatiably h.o.r.n.y."

"Mission accomplished. I want you. Inside me. Now."

He chuckled again. "Finally, some progress."

Moving away from me, he quickly shed his clothes, leaving me speechless as I stared at all the bronze skin and rigid muscles revealed. When his briefs dropped to the hardwood floor, I gasped.

How could I possibly have forgotten how huge he was? Must be I'd blocked that out of my mind so I didn't crave him on a daily basis.

"You're gawking."

I nodded. "Have you looked in a mirror recently?"

He grinned. "Man enough for you?"

"And then some." My heart hammered and my pulse jumped. "Grab a condom and get your a.s.s over here."

"We're going to need more than just one." He walked over to the bedside table and opened the top drawer. He pulled out an unopened box of condoms and dumped the packets on the nightstand.

"Stocking up for the winter?" I asked of his stash.

He eyed the foil packets for a moment, then said, "Guess I haven't had anybody over in a while." He seemed to give this some thought, then added, "Not since you."

"Oh, please."

"No, really. I'm not saying I haven't been with anyone else. But I haven't actually invited another woman over to the loft since you."

I found that endearing and terrifying at the same time. I latched onto the most acceptable explanation. "You've been out of town a lot this year."

"Yeah, I guess so." But he didn't seem convinced by that answer, as though there were another one he was considering.

I didn't think it was helpful to my heart to let him contemplate any other explanation, so I said, "Well, at least you don't have to make a run to the drugstore tonight."

"Indeed." He s.n.a.t.c.hed up a packet and climbed onto the bed. "Where were we?"

"You were about to be inside me."

"Oh, yeah. Lucky me."

I smiled. "You say the funniest things."

"Glad I amuse you." He leaned over and kissed me, his tongue delving deep, tangling with mine. He had the ability to make me lose myself in his kisses. They were long and sensuous. So arousing, they made me think of nothing but s.e.x with this particular ex.

When he pulled away, I felt lightheaded. My hand rested on the hard ledge of his pectoral muscles.

"You are truly magnificent," I told him.

"Not exactly irresistible, though."

My fingers skimmed over his chest. I sc.r.a.ped a nipple with my nail, making him jolt beside me. "You have no idea how tempting you really are."

"Yet, you manage to keep your distance."

"I have issues with intimacy, remember?"

He shook his head. "Tonight, you don't."

Of course, he was right. My palm flattened against his rigid abdomen. "Maybe it's just perfect timing on both our parts."

He seemed to give this some thought, then agreed. "Sometimes it all falls into place."

I couldn't argue with that. He'd listened to my ranting and accepted my fears. Then he'd turned the tables on me and made me see that I was the one who'd taken the easy way out when the proverbial going had gotten tough.

"I do like that you challenge me." My hand moved lower and I rubbed his hard c.o.c.k, which pulsed under my touch. I admitted, "You're exasperating sometimes, but no more so than me."

"Agreed." His voice was a bit darker, a bit s.e.xier. "You know, we're really not so different."

I eyed him curiously. "How do you figure?"

"Why do you think I've been commitment shy for so long?"

I stared at him for several moments before realization dawned on me. My hand stilled. "It happened to you too."

He nodded. "When I was nineteen. Granted, it wasn't mature love, but at that age...I don't know. Things like that are traumatic when you're a teenager. Devastating."

"Yeah, I can imagine."

I moved my hand upward, along his warm skin and hard muscles until my fingers grazed his jaw. I was stunned by his admission, but also touched by it. We'd never talked about this part of his past before. It wasn't exactly a subject I knew how to broach. Asking something like, "Exactly why do you enjoy s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g a different woman every couple of weeks?" never seemed like polite conversation. Now I knew why he'd never brought it up.

"I'm sorry."

"It was ten years ago. I'm pretty much over it."

I tilted my head to one side and regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. I realized now he hadn't been sympathetic when I'd cried on his shoulder about Seth. He'd been empathetic. He hadn't pitied me. He'd understood me. Because he'd known how it felt to be deceived and betrayed. His course of action had obviously been to date hot women and never settle down with one in particular. Mine had been to hide. Neither one of us were right.

"Everyone's heart gets broken at some point in life," I said. Facing a fact I'd never really considered. It was always so much more painful when it happened to you. Like no one else on the planet could possibly understand your agony and humiliation. But that was a misconception. Plenty of people had suffered my same fate. I was willing to bet that a good number of them picked themselves up, dusted themselves off and moved on with hopes of finding love again. I'd simply told myself it would never happen a second time.

Lying in Michael's bed, both of us naked and him holding a condom in his hand, was not exactly the place to have an epiphany. Or maybe it was...

I said, "Sometimes when you call me from the road, I wonder, 'why me?' I mean, you're either jetting about or riding around on your motorcycle, in a different city every couple of days to take awesome landscapes for your books. You have tons of fans. Women fall all over themselves to get your attention. And yet, two or three times a week, you call me when you get to your hotel room."

He didn't say anything for a few moments. I was surprised there was no anxiety welling within me as the seconds ticked by and he still didn't answer. I had no idea what to expect by way of an explanation, but for the first time, I wasn't wrapped around the axle about it. I genuinely wanted to know, and I didn't feel apprehensive over what the response might be.

Finally he said, "I like my career. I like that I've made a name for myself and can sell books featuring my work. Travel is part and parcel of the gig. I've always enjoyed it. But it does get lonely. And I really did miss you more than usual while I was gone this last time."

He paused a moment and stared at me, searching my eyes for Lord only knew what. Then he said, "Those three weeks we spent together. They freaked me out as much as they did you. I just handled it better."

"I don't know what you mean," I said, a little perplexed by his admission.

"I didn't once think about cheating on you. No other woman turned my head. I worked on my book. I did a couple of side jobs for you. Every night, we had dinner and a couple of drinks, either here or at a restaurant. Then we'd curl up in front of the fire or soak in the Jacuzzi or play poker. We'd always end up making out and then making love. Exactly what I wanted."

My teeth clamped down on my lower lip to keep me from saying anything. Or to keep it from quivering, I wasn't sure.

He said, quite simply, "I loved every single one of those nights we shared."

Ah, c.r.a.p.

I felt that p.r.i.c.kle behind my eyes again. I squeezed them shut for a moment, then opened them and willed my voice to be steady as I said, "Me too."

He didn't press me. A first. Rather, he settled more comfortably against the pile of pillows and stared at me.

I snuggled against him, resting my head against his shoulder. I couldn't stop touching him, even given the touchy subject matter. My fingers drew lazy circles on his abdomen as I said, "It was different with you. Not like it was with Seth. With him, I was...a Carlisle. In every sense of the word. I had to dress right and act right. Entertain and overachieve. For that period of time in my life, I pretended I wanted all of the things my parents had told me I was supposed to want. A law degree. A wealthy, prominent husband. A huge house in Pacific Heights with a Bentley in the garage. A membership at the country club. Designer clothes and all the latest gadgets."

I remembered after I'd gotten my bachelor's degree and was accepted into Harvard's law school, I had really and truly tried to be everything my parents wanted and expected me to be. Even though, for the first twenty-two years of my life, I'd insisted on being my own person.

I'm not sure what had changed my senior year of college. Something had made me think I ought to at least try to be the daughter the Honorable Mitch.e.l.l and Briana Carlisle longed to have. The one who would follow in their footsteps. Join a prestigious law firm and then become a judge, like them.

I'd traveled that path for several years before I'd discovered Seth was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g my sister.

I recalled, quite vividly, the day I'd decided to go into public relations. I had a law degree from Harvard. Had been hired by the top firm in San Francisco, where Seth worked.

"At a family dinner," I told Michael as I shifted on the bed and partially covered his body with mine, "I announced I was quitting the firm and going into business for myself-in PR. Every jaw dropped. Then, there was this eruption of discontent. My parents were appalled. Seth was mortified. My aunts and uncles were in an uproar."

"And Lizzie?"

I stared down at him as my palms splayed across his chest. Funny he should ask about her. He knew us all too well. In my mind's eye, I pictured that night in my parent's formal dining room, remembering so vividly everything Lizzie had said and done. "She smiled. Because she knew."

He nodded. "You'd just handed her the trump card she needed to land Seth herself."

Suddenly, everything became crystal clear for me. My gaze still locked with his, I wondered, "Did I do it on purpose?"

"Chewed your own hand off to escape the proverbial trap?"

"Yes."

One dark brow lifted. That was all he needed to say.

"Wow." I stared at Michael. He stared back.

In an instant, I was liberated.

He kept quiet, and I was grateful for his silence. I wasn't exactly up for an in-depth a.n.a.lysis of my sudden revelation from him, or from me. I understood I had things to ponder and reflect upon. Reconcile. For the moment, however, I was only interested in exploring how freed I was of the constraints I'd inadvertently put on myself.

Straddling his lap, I sat up and he followed, wrapping his arms around my waist, holding me to him. An intimate gesture that didn't scare me. Instead, it intensified my breakthrough. One I was clearly meant to have with this man.

"In the grand scheme of things, it's my fault I lost Seth to Lizzie. Because I changed. I switched from doing what everyone expected me to do, to doing what I wanted to do."

He listened intently, still not saying anything.

"I know what I want, career-wise. I know I don't want to be shackled to my family's ideals and specifications of how I should live my life."

"And what about love?" he finally asked.

A valid question. In all honesty, I said, "I don't know. I haven't thought about it. I guess I just...gave up on it."

He nodded. "I can understand that."

Of course he could. Apparently, he'd given up on it too.

"Why do you suppose you've stuck it out with me?" I asked as I pushed a thick lock of hair from his forehead. "I mean, we were friends in the beginning and then better friends after the Seth debacle. Closer still, in an intimate way, when we were lovers. And yet, still great friends after I broke it off."

He sighed. "I don't know. All I know is that I value our friendship. Relationship. Whatever it is. I care about you. I also want you in my bed."

"I am in your bed."

He laughed. "On a more frequent basis."

"Oh."

His strong arms unraveled from my waist, and he cupped my face with his hands. "Guess you could say, one man's loss is another man's gain."

Smiling, I said, "Thank you."

His soft lips grazed mine before we both opened our mouths and his tongue swept over mine. I melted in his arms. He had no trouble at all making me forget tonight's ruminations and tomorrow's party. With just a kiss and his hard body pressed to my softer one, I was lost in a pa.s.sion-induced haze. His skin was hot against mine, and his hands roamed my body, cupping my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then sliding down my sides and around to my a.s.s.

He leaned back against the pillows, breaking our kiss just long enough to rip open the condom package and then roll the latex down his thick shaft as I lifted slightly off his lap. The tip of his p.e.n.i.s nudged my opening.

"Easy there," he said as he gripped my hips.

I shook my head. The need to have him inside my body was no longer something I could deny. I shifted my hips, lowering myself so I could draw him fully into my p.u.s.s.y. He made a sharp hissing sound just as a low moan fell from my lips.

"Mm," I muttered. Talk about bliss. He thrust up into me, slowly and with long, full strokes. His hands still held my hips, keeping me from quickening the pace.

"You feel so good inside me," I whispered.

He groaned. "Keep talking."