Real Men Will (14 page)

“It’s all right,” he said, as if it were.

“Eric.
God.
”

“He’s very nice.”

Beth stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he had. Eric took a bite of pie.

“How can you eat?”

He set down the fork when he saw the slight green tinge to her face. “So, your parents don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“About the White Orchid?”

She covered her pale face with her hands and took a deep breath. “My mom knows. But not my dad.”

Eric thought of the man’s perfect posture and elegant suit. The jaunty hat and manicured fingernails. “I think that’s probably a good thing.”

She dropped her hands, her eyes wide with surprise. “Do you?”

“I’m not saying you
should
hide it, but I can understand why it seems like a good idea.”

“You don’t think I’m a horrible person?”

“Do you think he’d want to know?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I don’t. But I can’t honestly say I’ve lied for his sake. My mom doesn’t think I should tell him, but I feel so guilty.”

“And relieved?” he prompted, understanding perfectly.

“Yes.” Her shoulders slumped. “And relieved that I can say it’s my mom’s idea.”

“Come on. Eat your pie. The ice cream is melting.”

Beth didn’t reach for the pie, she just set her hands on the table and looked at him. “You’re really nice, you know that?”

Eric cleared his throat and picked up his fork. He wasn’t nice at all. Sure, he almost always did the right thing, but it was rarely because he wanted to. It was because he felt he should. And he was still haunted by what his sister had told him a few months ago.

When she was fourteen, only weeks into mourning her parents’ deaths, she’d come downstairs to find Eric sharing a beer with a friend. And Eric had said something horrible. And she’d overheard it and never said a word.
Of course, I’d walk away if I could. But I don’t have a choice.

He wanted to put his fist through a wall every time he thought of it. Such a small thing to say. And so cruel. And the worst part of it was that he’d meant every word. Tessa had recognized the truth in his voice and lived each day with the fear that he might leave. If things got too tough. If she got bad grades. If Jamie pissed him off. She’d honestly thought that Eric might pick up and run. And sometimes he’d damn well wanted to.

So, no, he wasn’t a nice guy. He was just a guy trying desperately to be as good as the man who’d adopted him and given him the Donovan name. Eric had hoped he’d grown into Michael Donovan’s shoes, but he’d long ago realized he never would.

Beth finally picked up her fork and took a small bite of pie. Then another. Eric was distracted from his brooding by the memory of the last time they’d shared a dessert. She’d seemed unattainable then. A dark beauty whose sexual promise surrounded her like an aura. He’d watched her eat just as she was doing now. Delicate bites. The flash of a tongue. The fantasy of that mouth.

She wasn’t unattainable now. Now he knew how to make her come. With his hands. And his mouth. And his cock.

But it wasn’t just that. He’d cracked a little of her mystery tonight. She wasn’t a sexual goddess sprung whole from Zeus’s head. Tonight, Eric had gotten a glimpse of the girl she’d once been, and a hint at the woman she was now.

“So you haven’t taken any men home to meet your parents?” he asked.

Beth’s fork froze halfway to the pie. “No.”

“Nothing serious?”

“Not really. And I don’t usually—” She looked startled by her own words and bit them off.

“Don’t usually what?”

She cleared her throat. “We talked about this at the hotel. I don’t usually date men like you.”

“What kind of men do you usually date?”

Beth took another bite and shrugged.

Eric pushed harder, not quite knowing why. “What about the guy you went out with last night? What’s he like?”

She chewed her pie very thoroughly, clearly buying time. Took a sip of water. “He’s an artist. And a musician.” Her lips curved in a small smile. “His name is Davis, after Miles Davis.”

“Ah, I see.” And he did see. Artists. Musicians. Guys with interesting lives and jobs that weren’t nine-to-five. Men who were pierced, if her column was any indication. She’d joked once that being seen with Eric would hurt her reputation.

Still, she’d chosen him. Eric tried to appease the jealousy that rose up over these men who were cooler and younger and got to hang around Beth twenty-four hours a day.

“What about you?” she asked. “What kind of girls do you normally date?”

“I don’t date much. When my brother and sister were younger, it was complicated.”

“You really raised them by yourself?”

“Well, they weren’t little kids. Tessa was fourteen when our parents died. Jamie was sixteen. But I couldn’t close down bars and have women over. So mostly it was just…” He didn’t know how to say it. “Occasional hookups.”

“Like this?”

“No.” He watched her lick ice cream from her fork. “Not like this.”

Their eyes met, and there was that thing between them again, that flash of lust that pierced through all his guilt and responsibilities. He wanted her. Now.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Beth looked nearly as affected as he was. She nodded and pushed her chair back, rising to her feet even before he stood. Eric took her hand and led her out to his car. He pulled out of the lot and drove toward Boulder, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Your place?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.”

And not another word passed between them. They didn’t touch. Not even as he parked and opened her door. Not as they rushed up the stairs to her apartment. They slipped inside and she locked the door and then they were kissing.

Hard to believe it could be better this time, but there was something pushing his need to a new intensity. Frustration or jealousy. Something harsh. He fisted his hand in her skirt and pulled it up, sliding his leg between her knees as she backed into the wall.

Her hips tilted and the heat of her sex was pressed to his thigh.

Eric was already hard, his dick straining and heavy. He pulled back to unbutton her sweater. Beth reached for his belt.

As soon as her sweater was open, he shoved it down her arms then pushed the soft fabric of the dress down, too. She was trapped, held against the wall, and Eric slid her bra strap down and freed one of her gorgeous breasts.

When he ducked down to close his mouth over her nipple, Beth gasped, and the desperation in that sound made him even rougher. He bit her, scraping his teeth over her nipple as he sucked, and she cried out with a sound between pleasure and pain. He licked gently to soothe her, then bit again, loving the way his name broke in her throat. Going to his knees, he exposed her other breast as well, and gave it the same attention until she sobbed his name. When he finally tugged her dress all the way down, Beth freed her hands and twisted them in his hair, sliding down for a wet, deep kiss that left them both on their knees.

Impatient, she pushed him until he sat back, then she took off her bra and shoved her dress totally off. “Take off your shirt,” she said.

Eric’s eyes devoured the sight of her kneeling in nothing but underwear and heels. “My pants,” he suggested as he whipped his shirt over his head.

But when he reached toward his waistband, her gaze dipped down, assessing. “Just unbutton them.”

He obeyed without question.

Beth moved forward and put a hand to his chest. She trailed her fingers around his nipple, making him shiver in surprise. When she put both her hands to his chest and urged him back, he laid down just to see what would happen next. Beth knelt above him like a goddess, her eyes dark and devouring his body, lips parted as breath stole hard from her throat.

“I love your body,” she whispered. “I love looking at you. Take it out.”

Eric stopped breathing entirely. There was no mistaking what she meant. Her gaze was locked on his hands as they reached to slide his zipper down. He pushed his boxer briefs slightly down, wrapped his hand around his cock and drew it out.

Beth inhaled sharply, her breasts jumping with the movement. Her nipples were so hard that they’d drawn to tight peaks.

“Stroke yourself,” she whispered.

The shock twisted around his cock like another hand. He tightened his fist and stroked.

Beth’s eyes widened. She caught her lip between her teeth and watched with fascinated intent as he worked himself slowly. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. He didn’t give a damn what it was that made her want this; all he knew was that jacking off had never felt this good, ever. His shaft got thicker in his hand, growing for her, craving her attention.

Beth set her lip free and ran her tongue over the pink mark she’d left. He wanted that mouth on him. Licking his head while he pumped his fist. He wanted her mouth open for him as he came.

But no, he wasn’t going to come like this, because Beth was moving toward him, crawling over his legs. But then she did exactly what he’d pictured. She slowly lowered her head until it hovered just over him. Eric tightened his grip and held still for her.

She licked at the liquid leaking from the tip, sighing as if the taste made her happy.

Eric closed his eyes and tried to breathe past the pressure already starting to build. She licked him once more, then twice, before easing farther up his body.

He opened his eyes when she settled on his thighs.

Beth sat straight. Though
straight
was the wrong word for a woman like her. She was all generous curves and softness. Even as he took in the glory of her breasts, she cupped them in her hands, and her thumbs skipped over her nipples.

“More,” she said, nearly breathless.

Obedient to a fault—the fault that he might screw this up and come too soon—Eric stroked himself again.

“You turn me on
so much,
” she whispered, squeezing her nipples as she watched his hand. “How do you do that?”

It was a mystery and a miracle to him. He just shook his head. Her breathing grew more rapid. He matched his pace to the rhythm she set.

He’d never done this in front of a woman before, and the depravity of it filled him with such dark joy that he could hardly breathe. That he would do this for her. That she would want him to. He could see that same darkness in her eyes as she watched.

Was this one more thing she was into? Piercings and threesomes and this? He’d do whatever the hell she wanted, anytime.

He stroked faster, watching her fingers tighten around the dark buds of her nipples. But Beth shook her head. “Don’t come.”

Fuck. He froze, squeezing his shaft in a merciless grip. Air shuddered from his lungs.

“Don’t come,” she murmured again. She put her hands to the floor and eased higher.

He let go of himself just as she pressed her satin-covered sex against him. The pale gray fabric immediately darkened where he leaked moisture against it. Eric laid his head to the floor and groaned.

“I want to watch you finish sometime, but not tonight.”

Sometime. She wanted him to do that again, another time, another night when they’d be together like this. He pulled her down and kissed her as her sex pressed against him with torturous force. She kissed him back, but she only gave him her tongue for the briefest moment before she rose up again. Her weight settled against him. She smiled, then rocked her hips, the slippery fabric dragging along his tight skin.

She slid over him, her eyes fluttering shut with pleasure. But if she was content with this, Eric sure as hell wasn’t. It was too much. He needed in her. In her mouth or her pussy, just inside.

Eric wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her, following her over, kneeling between her spread legs as she stared up at him in surprise. He yanked her panties down, shifting one of her legs over to pull them off. When she spread her legs again, Eric growled. That was what he wanted. He pulled a condom from his pocket and tore it open with fingers that weren’t quite steady.

Then he rolled it on and pulled her hips higher. “Watch me,” he ordered. It was his turn now, and she did as he asked, coming up on her elbows so they could both watch as he pressed the head of his cock into her.

“Oh,” she breathed, her stomach sucking in as she took a deep breath. He moved slowly, watching as her pussy stretched to accommodate his width. Her dark hair glistened with moisture.

She made a small sound as he pushed farther, and Eric looked up to find her mouth open and gasping for air. Her cheekbones stood out against her flushed skin. “More,” he said, pulling back a fraction of an inch before surging deep.

“Oh, God,” she cried, her back bowing, thrusting her breasts high. She fell to her back then, and Eric fucked her. The harder he fucked her the more she seemed to like it, so Eric gave up any idea of subtlety. He tucked one arm behind her knee and spread her wide so he could get even deeper. She was a tight vise around him, as if he were tunneling through her body.

“Eric,” she panted. “Ah, God. Yes.”

Yes. Yes, she wanted it hard and rough, and he was still filled with that dark joy and that jealousy and that need to have more of her. Their bodies slapped together as he pulled her leg higher and thrust hard and fast.

When Beth reached a hand down to rub her clit, Eric slowed so he could watch, but he kept a steady rhythm, watching as his shaft worked in and out of her and her fingers desperately circled her clit.

Her muscles squeezed him tighter. “Just…” she whispered. “Just a little more. Please. Just…”

One second, he told himself as his blood surged hard into his dick. Just one second and he could—

“Oh,
God,
” she screamed. Her hips surged up to meet his, shaking against him as he thrust. Her nails clawed into his arm, deep enough that he grunted, perfect enough that he felt himself seizing up, and then it all crashed into him and he came in a nearly painful release. The most intense orgasm of his life. It surged over and over until he could hardly breathe.