Awakening (33 page)

His eyes run up and down my body and grow dark, a wicked smile playing around his lips.

“No way. You’re cute as hell. Is this what you wear when you’re alone?”

He breezes in and shuts the door. I notice he has a grocery bag in his other hand. Handing me the flowers first, he smiles and walks into the kitchen.

“Thanks for these. I’ll get a vase and some water,” I say, following him.

“Look. I need to explain some stuff. But first, I’m bribing you with flowers and dinner.” He busies himself unloading takeout containers and placing them on the counter.

“Okay. The flowers got me to open the door. So, that one was a winner,” I say as I hunt for a vase big enough to hold the bouquet of wildflowers and baby’s breath.

“Good to know. I’ll remember that,” he says behind me. His voice is flirty with a hint of sex. Oh, he is pushing it tonight.

“Ryan. Look—” I start to turn around.

He’s there in an instant, covering my mouth his finger. Tingles run down my spine with his touch. Damn body can’t even hold it together for five minutes with him in the same room. I feel my anger slipping away, damn it.

“I know. Let’s just eat first.” His eyes burn into mine; his fingers brush my hair off my shoulder, leaving a trail of fire.

I’m toast.

“Okay,” I breathe out.

Ryan goes back to our dinner. The smell overwhelms my little kitchen when he opens the first container. My mouth waters at the sight of the steaming ravioli, covered in red sauce and cheese.

“Mmmmm. That smells so good. Where’d you get this?”

“Mario’s. Remember that place? They don’t usually do takeout, but I charmed the hostess with my sad story of winning you back with their food.”

I scoff; of course he charmed the hostess. Wait, winning me back? Is that what this is?

He pulls out a bottle of wine and opens it, setting it on the table. Two beautiful plates of pasta and salad sit while Ryan adjusts the lights and pours the wine. Oh my.

“Maybe I should change into something more appropriate. I’m feeling underdressed for such a beautiful table.” I watch him pull out my chair. Ryan is courting me, charming me.

It’s working.

“You look beautiful, this table doesn’t hold a candle to how you look, regardless of whatever you’re wearing. Sit.” He adjusts my chair as I sit down.

“So. How was your week?” he asks, picking up his fork.

“My week? You don’t want to hear about my week. Let’s talk about your week?” The thought of getting into what happened to me this week is nauseating, and I want to eat this delicious meal.

He laughs, “No way, Young. I hate my week. Please tell me something about you that’s fun.” He pauses and looks serious, “Please.”

I tell him about the not-right-red crisis, and how I thought I was going be fired. It’s nice to laugh and eat and just relax. He tells me about a new intern who broke the copy machine and broke down in tears, too afraid to tell Emily. I can totally see that.

I finally push my plate back and finish my wine. “That was amazing. Thank you,” I say, now ready to move to the couch and call it a night.

“Nora. I’m really sorry about not being able to see you this week. I’m trying to change that. I know what it looks like,
and it’s not
. They have me working 20 hours a day there. It’s as if they’re punishing me or testing me or I don’t even know what.” His eyes look lost and genuine.

“Is it because you’re not dating Emily? Did the long hours start after we went to your parents?” I blurt out without thinking.

He looks surprised, “Well, we did work long hours, but it certainly feels more like punishment the last couple of weeks. And, I now I have to answer directly to her. Yuck!”

“Nothing hurts like a woman scorned.” I raise my eyebrows at him. It’s as if a light bulb goes off in his head. Jeez, guys can be so stupid.

“Oh, shit. It’s starting to make sense now.” He looks shocked at his own revelation.

I laugh hard. Duh! “Ryan, you can’t be serious. You’re just putting this together now? Not only do your long hours punish you, you can’t be with me, or anyone else, when you’re stuck at the office doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Jesus Christ. Okay. That’s it. This is bullshit.” He jumps up from the table and paces the room, running his hands through his hair repeatedly.

His muscles bulge under his shirt with each pass of his hair. My thighs start tingling, and thoughts of what his hands can do to me flood my brain.

He stops and stares at me. “What are you thinking right now?” His eyes go dark and stormy.

“Uh, uh. I was uh—” I stutter, busted.

“That look on your face. You get that look sometimes, and I want to know what’s going on in your head.” He covers the distance between us in about three strides.

I stand up. Mistake. He takes my hands on places them on either side of my head, pressing me against the wall. His thigh opens my leg, giving him better access to grind his hips into mine. I breathe in his scent.

“I was thinking that you look hot when you run your hands through your hair like that.” My voice is small, almost apologetic.

“So, you were thinking that I’m hot,” he says, challenging me.

“Yep. I think you’re hot. Shoot me,” I say, meeting his challenge.

“Do you know how hard it was for me to stay away from you? All week I kept thinking about The Phoenix. About you and me and how amazingly beautiful and exotic you are.” He kisses my neck, igniting my blood. I feel my knees weaken, and a shaky breath escapes my lungs.

“I want you so bad it hurts. Please, don’t be pissed at me about my stupid job. I’ll fix it. Please, Nora. I’m sorry.” His erection digs into my upper thigh, my hands still pressed into the wall, holding me up.

I’ve never had a man plead for me to do anything. My head is swimming. “It’s okay,” I breathe the words.

His kisses a trail of embers down my neck. A moan slips out.

“I—”

His mouth covers mine, his tongue diving into me urgently, seeking mine. His teeth nip my lower lip. I have no idea what I was going to tell him.

“Come out with me?” he says in my ear.

“What?” Did I hear that right?

“Put on a skirt, no underwear. Please, Nora. I want to show you off again. I know a place we can go.” Again, he’s begging me. How can I say no to such an urgent request?

“Okay. Are we going back to The Phoenix?” I ask, not wanting to drive all the way to the city again.

He laughs as he licks the top of my breast. “No. Here in Palo Alto. You’d be surprised what’s right around the corner.” He looks up at me. His eyes are burning dark clouds; his cock is rock hard against my thigh.

“Okay. Let me change, then.” I slide out from underneath him.

I tear off my clothes, wishing desperately that I had showered. Too late now. I get a loose, short skirt and a blouse that opens in the front. No bra, no underwear. I turn around and Ryan is watching me from the doorway.

“Damn. How did I get so lucky?” he says, clearly still hard. I instantly get wet.

Slipping into the bathroom, I wonder about this no underwear thing. My cheeks are flushed and my hair is a mess, but I decide I don’t even care. I put on some lipstick and run a comb through my hair. This will have to do. Slipping on my three-inch heels as my final touch, I hear Ryan moan behind me.

We park in a dark lot in East Palo Alto. Far away from any place I’ve ever been. The small blue building has only one outside light on at the door with an extremely tall sign illumining, “The Sugar Shack.” Classy.

“What is this place?” I ask, trying to hide my horror.

“This is an adult bookstore. But, there are booths in the back where we can go. It’s private, no one can join us, but people can watch, if we want them to.”

My jaw drops open. Is he fucking nuts? This is nothing like The Phoenix. This is—this is—my brain cannot even finish the thought.

“Hey.” Ryan pulls me out of my thoughts. “Trust me. Okay?” There’s that pleading look again. I cave instantly and open the door.

As we walk up to the building Ryan mutters, “Damn girl. You are so fucking incredible.”

We walk in together. At first, it looks like a regular store. There are rows of merchandise and a counter with a register, and a few people milling about. I think we’re going to browse the store, but Ryan pulls me the other way. We pass the aisles and go down a hallway. There are curtains on both sides of the hallway, covering each entrance. I hear bad music playing in the speakers above us.

Ryan keeps walking until he finds an entrance with a curtain open. We walk in, shut the curtain and latch a rope across the entrance.

“See, we’re safe,” he says, smiling salaciously.

The entrance opens up to a small room with a tiny stool in front of a TV. There’s a window on each side of the room; both covered with a pull down screen.

“Okay. Here’s how this works. If you just want to watch movies and jack off, you keep everything closed and put your money in the TV. If you want a visitor, you leave the rope off and the curtain open a bit. If you want to watch, you open the window shades and see what’s happening in the other rooms.” Ryan says this as if he’s showing me how to run a cappuccino machine.

“Oh-kay. Ryan. I gotta tell ya—” I’m feeling really uncomfortable.

“Nora. Just make out with me. Right here. Nothing else. Just you and me.” He starts kissing me, slowly at first, then hard.

“Fuck, you are so sexy,” he says in my mouth. He takes his shirt off and partially opens my blouse. He pulls me into him, pressing his cock into me. “Jesus, just having you here,” he growls.

He lifts my skirt above my hips, exposing everything. It’s a heady feeling, knowing that I’m naked and there are people just on the other side of the curtain, men who came here to watch sex movies.

I lean against the wall, my head pressing back while my chest arches toward Ryan. He opens my shirt and squeezes my breasts; I feel his hardness press into me.

“Nora. Let me open the windows. Let me show you off. You are so fucking sexy. So beautiful. Please, let me.”

He’s pleading again with that graveling voice, those burning eyes. And yes, it turns me on to think of men watching me. Like me watching that devil girl on the bed. Deep inside, something unleashes; this is what I wanted, right? To live on the edge, where life is really lived. I exhale and look at him.

I nod my head; he groans and squeezes me. “Fuck,” he mutters. He leaves for a second and I hear the shades slip up. Ryan is back, even more urgent and rough than before. His hands slide up my backside, squeezing my ass and hips as he pushes my skirt, already high to begin with, even higher. He wraps my leg around his waist and sucks on my breasts.

“There are two men watching you right now. Their whole night just got blown away,” he says.

My blood roars in my ears and my body ignites. Knowing that two men are watching this, watching me, makes everything feel more intense. His fingers slip inside and my mind is gone. Clenching around his fingers hard, over and over again, the waves of warm honey keep coming from deep inside. Finally, I catch my breath. I feel Ryan struggling with his pants. I don’t want to stop this feeling; I hold my breasts, squeezing them, pulling on them while he opens the condom.

A strange noise comes out of his throat when he looks up at me. “Holy fuck.”

I feel his hands on my hips; he tilts them up and slides in. Again, I cry out as he drives in. I’m lost as I completely surrender to him. His relentless pace brings me to the brink. I feel my legs opening more for him. The wider my legs spread, the deeper he goes. He tilts my hips once more and hits a sweet spot. The orgasm explodes inside of me.

“Ryan. I’m coming.” I don’t recognize my own voice. It’s deep and husky. He stills then jerks forward, quickening his pace to an almost frantic level.

“Fuck,” he says again as I feel him unload inside of me. Knowing what we’re doing, knowing that we have an audience, pushes me over the edge again. I come hard, squeezing his cock over and over.

“Stop,” he squeaks. “Oh, my God. You feel so fucking good.”

I laugh; again, I don’t recognize my own voice. It’s too deep and husky. What the hell is happening to me?

We still and slow our breathing. He slides out and pulls off his condom, tossing it in a convenient trash bin. I pull my skirt down and button my blouse. Ryan’s hair is wet with sweat and he shakes it as he pulls up his pants.

“Now what?” I whisper to him, all too aware that both window shades are still open.

“Oh, them?” He smiles. He looks down and gives someone a thumbs up. Seriously? “That guy is happy.” He laughs. Oh my God, I’m instantly mortified.

He looks into the other curtain and stares. “This guy is still going. He wants you to watch him.” He looks at me. What?

“I’m not going to watch him jack off,” I say, incredulous.

Ryan comes back up to me, “Come on. You might like it. Seems only fair, right?”

Shit. I hesitate. What I want to do is go home and crawl into bed. This is the downside of this whole sex outside thing. The aftermath is brutal. Ryan is still waiting.