Текст книги "Give Me Yesterday"
Автор книги: K. Webster
Соавторы: Elle Christensen
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
I really think I might kill someone today.
The last two days have been nothing but putting out fires. A high profile divorce case which seemed to be moving along amicably, exploded when a sex tape of the ex-wife and her new boy toy (I use that term because he looks like a fucking Ken doll. And, considering the amount of body shown in the video, I can confirm that every part of him looks like plastic) showed up on the internet, dated long before the couple split.
Now I’m in the middle of a shit storm and nobody seems to be able to do their fucking jobs. We’ve been working around the clock to get our new arguments and evidence together before court on Monday. It’s eleven thirty on Friday night, and I’m still in the office, my forehead resting on the cool surface of my desk, when I hear a soft knock. Without lifting, I call for whoever it is to come in, and hope to holy hell they aren’t going to piss me off any further. I’ve got a letter opener and a severe case of bitchiness, combined with an intolerance for idiots.
“Do you need anything else, Ms. Larkin?” Stacey’s soft voice reaches my ears and I sigh in relief. I knew I hired her for a reason. Without her, the last two days would have pushed me over the edge and she’d be helping me find a place to bury the bodies.
I raise my head and give her a tired smile. “I’m good, Stacey. Thanks for burning the midnight oil. You can head home. Barring any new emergencies, I’ll see you on Monday.”
She returns my smile, “Okie dokie. Have a good night, Ms. Larkin.” Then she pivots and starts through the door, but she stops and looks back when I call her name.
“Stacey. Um, you can call me Vict—Tori. You can call me Tori when we are alone from now on, okay?”
As exhausted as she looks, she still manages to beam at me, looking proud, knowing that this privilege has to be earned and I’ve only granted it to a few people. “Goodnight, Tori.” I wave her away, and lean back in my chair, taking in the absolute silence. This used to be what I craved, what I lived for. I got off on being the fixer, the one who spent every waking hour dedicated to the challenging cases, running on adrenaline and coffee, and always, always, winning.
Somewhere in the last few days, I’ve started to feel my life slow down, the spinning of the earth becoming just a little more sedate. There have been moments where I felt as though the world isn’t spinning at all. All of them were when I was with Chase. He brought me lunch Thursday and today, ignoring my insistence that I didn’t have time.
“Even Wonder Woman needs to eat, babe.” He’d set a bag on the table that smelled heavenly and when I opened it, there was a container of my very favorite pasta from a little hole in the wall, Italian restaurant next door. I gazed at him in surprise, and he winked at me. “Your assistant is a wealth of information.” I rolled my eyes because he’d charmed Stacey to where she was wrapped around his damn finger and pretty much gave him free reign with information about me as well as access to the office.
Both days, he’d also brought me another blue flower, telling me that he wished he could find one the exact color of my eyes. Corny or not, I practically swooned. Practically? Yeah, I melted into a freaking puddle.
Those minutes that I holed up with him and left the outside world behind sustained me. They were my shot of adrenalin, better than living on coffee. He’s wormed his way inside and my chest has begun to try and burst when he’s around. I feel it filling with something, but I don’t examine it too closely. I leave it in Pandora’s Box, claiming ignorance.
It’s time to leave. With the wedding this weekend, I’d had to call in every associate I could borrow to get thoroughly prepared before I left. I straighten up my desk, and office, then grab my coat and lock up. When I step outside, there is a man leaning his unbelievably sexy body against the deserted valet podium, his chocolate eyes assessing me carefully, and a smile playing around his mouth. I can’t help smiling back, my weary body perking up at the sight of all that lickable goodness. I’m losing the battle with my hormones and every time we say goodbye, I wonder if I could take that next step.
“What are you doing here?” I ask curiously, pleasure at the surprise saturating my tone. He saunters over to me and slips his arms around me, bringing me in close for a long, deep kiss. When he finally pulls away, I’m back in the hazy cloud that always seems to linger after his lips are on mine.
“I didn’t like the idea of you walking home at this hour. I told Stacey to let me know if you’d be alone when you left. She called me an hour ago and told me you were on your own tonight.” Melting, melting, melting.
“That’s sweet, but it’s only a few blocks, Chase. You didn’t have to come all the way up here for a ten minute walk.” He looks into my eyes, the dark night making him harder to read. Lowering his head, he kisses my forehead, then steps back and loops my arm through his.
“That’s what a boyfriend does for his woman, babe. We make sure they are safe, if only for our own peace of mind.” My heart skips a beat at the word boyfriend. I’m still not sure how I feel about defining us that way, but Chase is insistent that we label what we have. I choose not to get into that particular discussion again tonight. I’m beat, and I’m beyond glad to be able to end my day with his sweet affection.
At the door to my building, I start to fidget. Should I invite him up? The other night was fantastic. I’m going to admit to myself, it felt so good to be held through the night again. The question I’m again wrestling with is, can I take the next step? If I invite him up, will he expect that? The questions swirl in my mind, and yet the clearest one is the little devil on my shoulder prompting me to bring him upstairs and let him do whatever he wants to me. That thought sends need skittering down my body and heating up my core.
I keep my arm in his and we walk to the elevator. Inside, he tucks me in close to his body and kisses me passionately. Okay, I can do this, I think. The doors slide silently open, and I gulp down the nervous lump in my throat. Every step to my door brings tension and anxiety mixed with desire. At the final stop, I dig through my purse for my keys and when I find them, I turn to unlock the door, my head still down.
I pause in my task when I feel the gentle glide of his finger under my chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. His face is soft and shining with a sweet emotion, but I can see the lust just under the surface, straining to be released, yet he keeps it contained.
“I’m not going anywhere from your life, Tori. But, tonight you need to relax, take a bath, read a book, and let your stress go. I only wanted to know that my girl is safe and maybe leave her with something to keep her mind on me until tomorrow.” I feel my eyes widen a little. He’s not going to come in? I don’t have time to dwell because the next thing I know, his lips are pressing down on mine. The kiss goes from sweet to ravaging in an instant.
For several minutes, we stand there drinking from each other, attempting to sate our need for each other. Unfortunately, when we separate, my desire for him is raging and it’s on the tip of my tongue to beg him to take me inside. He doesn’t give me the chance though, he finishes unlocking my door, hands me the keys, and with a little pat on my bum, he steers me inside. One last, chaste kiss on my cheek and he backs away, “I’ll see you in the morning at group, baby.”
He takes the handle and closes my door, the click of the lock sounding loud in the surrounding silence. Group? My haze is suddenly gone, my thoughts clear and sharp. Son of a bitch! I forgot about my hour of “to the pain,” at the end of which, I’m sure I’ll be begging The Dread Pirate Roberts to cut off my ears. My Princess Bride reference at least makes the reminder of group a little more tolerable.
But, ugh.
Group.
The ugly word.
That’s just what I need to start off this weekend of hell. I need a drink. I plod to my kitchen and grab one of the “in case of emergency” bottles of wine in the far back of one of my cupboards. After pouring myself a glass, I take it with me (oops better grab the bottle), and the new bag of M&Ms that Chase brought me at lunch, and I make my way to my bathroom. With a quick pit stop in the bedroom for my e-reader, I enter the bathroom and, setting everything on the counter, I grab some scented bubble bath, and turn to my precious, the bathtub.
Movies and TV can be so ridiculous and I can’t help but scoff whenever they show a Chicago or New York City apartment with a large, claw foot tub. Even if they have the space, which is unlikely, have you ever seen a tub like that in a city apartment? Well, you have now. That’s right, I bought this place before they had even broken ground and required that the plumbing be set up for the ultimate decadence. These tubs are deep, so every part of you is underwater. There is no overflow drain, which means the water doesn’t slowly leak out.
I sigh in anticipation, turning the knobs to just the right spot and toss in some bubble bath. I don’t know where to find the bubble bath that creates a lasting and full coverage foam (I’m sure it’s out there because you can believe everything you see on TV), but it definitely smells amazing. When the water is hot, I strip down and with my glass of wine in hand (and the bottle within reach), I lower myself down and feel the strain in my muscles start to unfurl.
I turn on my reading device and lose myself in a suspense romance with an innocent woman on the run, and a fierce man hired to protect her. Danger, passion, and love, what else could a woman look for in a book? Besides, the hero’s alpha side reminds me a little of Chase, and it has me wondering what he’s like in the bedroom. I shake that thought off, knowing it will only lead to a cold shower.
The bath invigorates me just enough to go through my nightly routine, but when I finally crawl into bed, I heave a huge sigh and snuggle down under the covers. Not pretending they are Chase’s arms around me.
Click. Click. Click.
Each tap of my heels gives me a little more confidence, builds up another wall of armor against my imminent torture. I dressed with care, reminding myself of the strong, hardened, woman I feel safe with. My hair is up, not a strand out of place, lips stained red, and typical chic clothing. Although, my outfit might be a little sexier than usual. The gauzy, cream, button up blouse I’m wearing lays over a pale pink, lace tank top. My matching pink skirt has just a little flare, midway down my thighs, and my nude fuck-me heels give the impression that my long legs are never ending.
If I have to endure this suffering, I might as well have a little fun tormenting the teacher.
I walk into the room and stop, glancing around at the goofy cast of characters in this twisted little play. Then my eyes finally land on the leading man and I wait for his cue. He seems to sense my presence because he looks up from the little podium and immediately meets my gaze, a smile lighting up his face. His chocolate eyes quickly zero in on my lips, then slowly down the rest of my body, his jaw getting firmer with every few inches. When he finally returns to the top, his eyes are so dark, they look almost black.
He glares at me, before darting a fervent glance around the room. Then he subtly shifts, looking marginally uncomfortable, the movement so small I almost missed it.
Oh yes. This is going to be fun.
“Let me drive.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“I’ll be your best friend.”
“You already are, so no.”
“I’m your best friend?”
“Yep.”
“That was easy.”
“I’m easy.”
“You don’t say…”
“You’re just asking for trouble today, babe,” I risk a glance at her as I drive toward the hotel in her hometown where the rehearsal dinner is being held. “That outfit nearly got you bent over the refreshment table during group.”
Her cheeks blaze crimson but it shuts her up. A smug grin plays at my lips as I focus on the road. After some time, she speaks up again.
“I’m nervous. Chase, you have no idea how much I don’t want to do this. Ever since…ever since…” she trails off. “Anyway, I don’t spend much time with my family. It’s too hard.”
Earlier in group, she didn’t have any meltdowns, besides the one with her panties when I whispered what I thought of her sexy-as-fuck outfit, but I could see the strain in her eyes throughout the meeting.
As each person spoke, she retreated further and further into the cold, black place her heart likes to hide in. I didn’t push her to speak but I did require her to participate. Each time her eyes would glaze over, I’d ask her thoughts or opinions. After the first couple of scathing glares, she finally understood that I wasn’t going to be deterred and she willingly participated after that. I even caught her smiling at one of Nate’s jokes.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’ll distract you,” I tease and reach across the console to squeeze her thigh. Her milky white flesh has been a beacon to me all afternoon and now that we’re in the car together, I’m an eager boy in the candy store, ready to devour his treat.
Her skin on her thigh warms beneath my touch and I flash her a grin.
“Your distractions aren’t distractions at all,” she murmurs. “They’re monumental, epic events.”
I chuckle. “And you haven’t even seen my cock yet. It’s an epic monument for sure.”
“No, I think your head is monumentally full of itself.”
Stroking her thigh, I steal a glance at her. She’s leaned against the bucket seat and gazing out the window. I don’t miss the fact that she’s slightly parted her thighs, no doubt mirroring similar thoughts that are running through my head.
“I’m just confident in myself and my abilities,” I assert. “I mean, I’ve given you two orgasms already and I’ve barely touched you. Can you imagine what it will feel like when I’m really trying?”
She inhales a sharp breath. “You’re so bad, Chase Monroe.”
Running my pinky up under her skirt along her thigh, I graze her panties before sliding it out again. “Baby, you have no idea.”
I’ve nearly convinced myself that it would be safe and a good idea to give her a third mind-boggling orgasm with my pinky when she points out the exit, deterring my wicked plans. “There. Go there.”
I hesitate briefly before withdrawing my hand and putting on my blinker. Once we’ve arrived at the quaint, yet undoubtedly expensive hotel, I park and turn to regard her. Her playfulness has fled and she gnaws on her fingernail like it’s an appetizer.
“I can’t do this,” she squeaks.
Reaching for her hand-snack, I tug it away from her teeth and bring it to my lips. I kiss the top of her hand and smile. “You can do this. We’re doing this together. I’m not going to let you fall, baby.”
Her anxious, blazing blue eyes find mine and she relaxes. The fact that she trusts me so early on in our relationship causes my chest to puff out with alpha pride.
“Come on,” I say as I release her hand. “Time to show off your man candy.”
The exasperated huff she makes falls on deaf ears when I climb out of the car and trot over to her side. When I open the door and she slides one leg out, I’m rewarded a brief glimpse of her sexy, pink panties peeking out under her skirt.
“That skirt is going to get you in so much fucking trouble,” I hiss under my breath.
Her giggles only add to the hard-on I’m desperately trying to keep at bay. I tug her to me once she’s out of the car and drop my lips to hers.
“Do you feel that?” I question, slightly rubbing my cock against her belly.
“Mmmhmm.”
“You do that to me,” I say. “Now, let’s get in there before I make a fool of myself and fuck you on the hood of my car with your parents watching from the hotel dining room.”
Her hand is shaky in mine but I know it is no longer from nervousness, but from heat. We’re both toeing a fragile line that soon will break. And when it does, I won’t ever get enough of her. She’ll be completely mine.
We walk hand in hand into the building and follow the signs to where the rehearsal dinner is being held. The hotel is beautiful, regal in royal blue and shades of gold, like a miniature version of The Drake Hotel in downtown Chicago. The moment we enter, I hear a high-pitched squeal. I release Tori’s hand and instinctively wrap my arm around her waist, drawing her to me in a protective manner.
“Oh. My. God,” a young woman in a pretty, fitted navy dress shrieks. “Victoria, your boyfriend is hot!”
I smirk at the girl and then steal a glance at my woman. Her lips are pressed into a firm line and she nods sharply at the girl. “Congratulations, Danielle.”
Danielle leans in and steals a hug from Tori to which she shudders. “Thanks, sugar. Aunt Elaine and Uncle Jack are at the table beside the buffet. They’ve been waiting for you to arrive. What’s your name, hot stuff?”
Chuckling, I extend my free hand and shake her dainty one. “Chase.”
“Well, it’s good to meet you, sweetie. Thank you for coming.”
I nod and then guide Tori toward the table Danielle pointed to. When we reach it, Tori’s frame stiffens.
“Mom, Dad,” she clips out upon seeing the couple standing beside the table.
They’re your typical suburban family. Old, salt and pepper haired man with a kind smile. A pretty, older woman that could pass for Tori’s sister rather than her mother. The joy and glittering personality behind her mother’s eyes reminds me of the lack of in my own mother’s.
“This is,” she stammers, “t-this is my uh….”
I reach for her father’s hand first. “Chase Monroe. Dr. Monroe to my students.”
Her father nods his instant approval and shakes my hand. “Dr. Monroe, glad to meet you. I’m Jack and this is my wife Elaine.”
Shaking each of their hands without my arm ever leaving Tori’s waist, I say, “Please, call me Chase.”
Both parents glance at the way I’m holding her and I swear they seem relieved. I’m not sure how much she’s dated since she lost her family, but apparently it’s not very much.
“Please,” her mother chirps, “sit with us and let’s chat.”
The rest of the evening is spent with Tori being unnaturally quiet and me deflecting any awkwardness. I’ve dazzled her parents with stories of my students and my career enough to get through the entire evening without any problems.
Finally though, things get weird.
“Victoria, honey,” Elaine says as she smiles when we enter the hotel lobby after the dinner and rehearsal. “The guest room is all set up and ready for you. Chase is more than welcome to stay too.”
Tori’s breath hitches and I can only imagine what’s going through her mind right now. She barely wanted to come to this thing but staying in a house that’ll clearly shove sad memories down her throat has to be daunting.
“Well, ma’am, your gesture is very sweet. However,” I lie, “we’ve already booked a room here. Your daughter and I were hoping to spend some quality alone time together. She’s been slammed at work and could use a nice getaway. This place is perfect.”
Her mother’s knowing eyes widen and she nods. “Of course, darling. Please, take care of my girl. But, tomorrow I expect you two for breakfast at the house. No getting out of it.”
I grin as we say our goodbyes.
“Thank you,” Tori sighs when they’re out of sight. “I wasn’t sure how to get out of that one.”
Guiding her over to the front desk, I kiss the top of her head. “I got you into this mess. The least I can do is get you out of it. Besides, I want you all for myself tonight.”
She shivers in my arms and I’m thankful when we’re able to book a room. All they had left were king suites and I gladly paid for one.
An hour later, Tori’s heels are kicked off and she’s sitting on the edge of the bed while I prowl around the room opening all the cabinets and drawers. When I open one that appears to be a cabinet for electronics, I’m pleased to find a stocked refrigerator instead. Plucking a tiny bottle of vodka from its placeholder, I grin and call out to Tori.
“Ready to get the party started?” I turn and wave the liquor at her.
She laughs and shakes her head. “I’m not drinking that. Besides, every time you pull one out, they charge it to your room. You’re holding three swallows that cost eight bucks.”
Rolling my eyes at her, I twist the cap and take a swig. My eyes burn and my throat catches fire. “Shit, that’s bad.”
“Told you.”
I set that one on the top of the cabinet and fish out a bottle of tequila. “This probably tastes like shit too.”
She laughs. “So, are we seriously staying in here together?”
Raising an eyebrow at her, I nod. “Yep. A night full of drunk nakedness is in our future. Our sleepovers are the best.”
A shocked gasp escapes her and I chuckle.
“Chase, we can’t. I can’t…”
Winking at her, I set to twisting off the cap. “I know, you’re not ready to have my massive cock pleasing you to the ends of the earth. I’m patient. I can wait.”
“You’re impossible,” she groans and saunters over to me.
I hand her the opened tequila and beam when she sips it.
“Ew. Gross.”
But she takes another sip.
“Are you okay?” I ask, all playfulness aside.
She steps closer to me and pecks me on the cheek. “Just dandy.”
Reaching around her, I palm her ass and draw her up against me. “Want to play a game?”
Her chin lifts and she raises both eyebrows. “Why do I get the feeling this is a naughty game?”
I smirk, “Maybe because I’m a naughty professor? Just a thought.”
Her giggle warms my soul much like the alcohol warmed my throat. “Tell me about your game. I’m not agreeing to anything until I know what we’re playing.”
She takes another sip and I drag her skirt up a bit.
“Let’s play,” I say as I flick my eyes up to the ceiling, while I come up with something on the spot, “strip Truth or Dare.”
The tequila nearly shoots out her nose and she chokes it down. “What? No!”
Dipping my mouth down to her ear, I let my hot breath tickle her. “Please. I’ll go easy on you, baby.”
Her body melts against mine. “How do you play?”
I draw back and then place a soft kiss on her lips. “Um, let’s see…”
“You’re making this shit up on the fly!” she pouts.
Chuckling, I release her and steal several different bottles from the fridge before pointing over to the sofa by the window. “Games are more fun when you make up the rules as you go along. How about you can choose to either do a dare or speak a truth. If you refuse either, you drink. If you choose dare and suck at it, then you drink. If you choose truth and lie, you drink.”
“And the naked part?” she raises a brow in question as she sits on the couch.
“Shit,” I curse. “That’s the most important part. Clothes come off each time you drink.”
“I’m not sleeping with you, Chase.”
I set all the bottles on the table. “Technically you are because there’s just one bed and I miss having you wrapped around me like the other night. You’re definitely sleeping with me.”
She huffs. “Sex. I meant sex, asshole.”
“Define sex…” I trail off with a smirk.
“You know, penetration and stuff.”
I bellow with laughter. “’Penetration and stuff.’ I think I just came in my pants with all that sexy talk.”
Before she can punch me, I snatch her hand and twist it toward my face. Slowly, I uncurl her fingers and kiss her palm. “I vow that there’ll be absolutely no penetration of my cock in any of your orifices tonight."
She giggles and jerks her hand away. “You’re sick.”
“Truth or dare?” I question.
“Dare.” She smirks, thinking she’s won the game of hiding her truths.
“Take off all your clothes.”
“What the fuck?” she shrieks. “You’re a cheater!”
Shrugging my shoulders, I make a motion for her to take her clothes off.
“And if I refuse?”
“You still have to drink and take something off. Rules are rules, baby.”
She growls, all cute as fuck, and begins a slow, teasing journey of unbuttoning her blouse. I’m so mesmerized that by the time she’s let it fall to the floor, I’m hard as fucking stone and have already sucked down the bottle she was supposed to drink from.
“Like what you see?” she purrs.
I choke on my words and she laughs. My eyes never leave her pale, flesh colored lacy bra. That thing needs to be gone. Pronto.
“Jesus, Tori. Want to forfeit this game and renege on our no penetration rule?”
Her blazing blue eyes find my lust-filled ones. “I prefer making you as crazy as you make me. It’s fun. Now, truth or dare, Dr. Monroe?”
“So we’re playing doctor now?” I question with wagging eyebrows.
“Shut up and answer the question.”
“Dare.”
She pouts, obviously we both want a truth from each other that neither is willing to fork over. “Fine, um, you have to lick my toes.”
When I fall to my knees in front of her, she squeals. “Just kidding. Ew. Don’t do that. Um…”
Her voice trails off when my hands roam up her legs, eager to touch her slender thighs.
“Hmmm?” I question as I dip my lips to her heaving chest.
She slides her fingers into my hair and spreads her knees apart, giving me better access to her. I tongue her cleavage and grin when she gasps.
“Chase…you…please…”
While I squeeze one of her breasts, I sneak the other hand under her skirt. Using my fingers, I jerk aside her panties and push a finger into her.
“Oh!”
Her body is hot and so fucking wet. With each slow movement that I draw my finger in and out, I’m amazed at how tight her pussy grips my finger. She’ll feel so good when I finally make love to her.
“You like that, don’t you? Truth.”
“No,” she lies with a hiss the moment I curl my finger upwards, hitting her in just the right spot.
“Liar. Take your bra off.”
She whimpers but after a second of fumbling, her bra loosens around her. Never losing stride with my finger, I jerk her bra the rest of the way off. Her small, pale pink nipples are erect and beg to be colored and bruised.
“My God, baby. You’re so fucking gorgeous. I’m hanging on by a very tiny damn thread. A promise is a promise, though. Doesn’t mean I can’t make you beg for it anyway,” I say as I nip at her tit.
Her thighs clench together but with me between them, she’s powerless against the growing climax within her.
“You’re not supposed to make me feel,” she whines. “I don’t want to feel.”
Sliding my thumb over her clit, I massage her until she splinters apart before me. Her body quivers and shakes.
“Guess I’ll be manhandling those feelings too.” I grin and lift my head away from her breasts to throw her a smug look.
She gently pushes me away from her and my hand pops out of her making a sound that causes her to blush.
“You promised no penetration,” she sighs and leans back against the sofa, her gorgeous fucking tits on full display.
I smirk. “With my cock, which I’m really regretting. Now, put on some sexy pajamas before I manhandle your pussy too.”
“I think you’ve already done that. Three times to be exact,” she grumbles in faux annoyance as she strides over to her bags and fetches her clothes.
Once I’m stripped down to my boxers, I crawl into the bed and wave her over. Ever the responsible gal, she turns off all the lights after dressing, before climbing into my waiting arms.
“Baby?” I question as I haul her back to my bare chest and hug her to me.
“Hmm?”
“You’ll know when I manhandle that pussy. That’ll be the day that you’re dripping like a leaky faucet and walking like a fucking cowboy who rode one too many horses.”
She whimpers and it takes everything in me not to strip her down and fuck her as promised.
“Until then,” I say through a yawn and close my eyes, burying my face in her hair, “I’ll settle for finger fucking you until you can’t remember your own name.”
