Bad Bachelor Page 15

  Now, with her splayed against the door, her fingers in his hair—tugging, pulling—she was utterly and perfectly undone. And goddamn if she didn’t taste as sweet as a ripe peach. He was aching to drop to his knees and push his face between her legs. He knew some guys loathed the act of going down on a woman, but Reed considered it his specialty. He loved the way a woman moved when he put his mouth on her, the way her hips would buck and roll. The desperate gasps and pleas that would fill his ears…if her thighs hadn’t clamped around his head hard enough to block his hearing, that was.

  “Reeeeed,” she groaned as he gently tugged on her nipple. “I don’t know if I can stand much longer.”

  “But I haven’t gotten started on the other side yet.” He raked his teeth over her left nipple, and her body jerked against him. “I can’t leave you uneven.”

  “You’re a real Prince Charming, you know that.” She shook her head, laughing. “Let me get onto the bed. The last thing you want to do is scrape me off the floor when I fall.”

  Right then and there, he couldn’t think of a single thing he didn’t want to do with her. Darcy’s fair skin was flushed with pink, matching the beautiful rosy tips of her breasts. They were some fucking perfect breasts too—round and no bigger than a handful, perky. And that damn scrolling text etched into her skin…

  “Why did you get those words?”

  Her blue eyes avoided his gaze, and she tugged the top of the dress back up over her breasts. “It’s a Margaret Atwood quote… I admire her work.”

  More lies. Darcy didn’t seem to lie about anything of significance. Just lots and lots of little white lies designed to hide the real her from the world. Bricks in her protective wall. Perhaps they were more alike than he’d first thought. He straightened up and cupped her face with his hands.

  “Such a pretty mouth you have.” He plunged his tongue between her lips, automatically feeling for the hardness of her piercing. He was growing fond of the sensation of that little metal ball on his tongue, and he groaned at the realization that he might get to feel it bump against his cock tonight.

  She planted her hands against his chest. “Bed. Now.”

  “So impatient.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and stumbled them backward into the room, not even knowing if he was headed for the bed or the desk. When he knocked into something hard, glass and metal rattling, he changed course. They were in the living area.

  “You’re a terrible driver.” She laughed against his chest as he walked them to the bedroom sectioned off by a sliding door. “You know, I thought you were going to be smoother than this.”

  “You got a problem with my moves?” he asked in mock offense. “Guess I’ll have to step up my game then.”

  This wasn’t normally how he acted when he took a woman too bed—his usual MO was slick. Champagne ordered to the room, a steamy shower to start. Women loved that. He’d always take them once in the shower, without finishing. Just enough to get them off. Then it was to the bed, low lighting. Up against the glass overlooking the city.

  But running through the routine with Darcy felt…wrong. Dirty. Not in the good, smutty-monster erotica way either. For some reason, he doubted he could pull off his usual persona with her. Reed the Lady Slayer, as Gabriel had once called him. But tonight he was improvising, making shit up on the fly.

  And that unnerved the hell out of him.

  He grabbed Darcy by the shoulders and walked her to the edge of the bed. She was still clutching her dress over her breasts, a nervous energy zipping around her like fireflies. She wanted him to be smooth, to put on the moves like she’d read about. Fine.

  Your wish is my command, sweetheart.

  “Lose the dress,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. It was necessary because the second he saw those nipples again, he’d want to devour her.

  “I could change in the bathroom.” Her voice was ragged, rough around the edges. “I—”

  “I said, lose the dress.” His command bounced off the walls of the bedroom.

  Darcy sucked in a breath and slipped the floral fabric down her body, wriggling when it got stuck on her hips. She was trying to take her underwear down as well.

  “Did I say you could take off your panties?” He stalked forward and put his hands over hers. “If you can’t do this properly, I’ll have to take over.”

  Bright spots of pink dotted her cheeks. “It’s laundry day,” she mumbled.

  “What?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked on her lower lip. “Laundry day. This was all that was clean.”

  She let the dress slide over her hips, leaving her standing there in only a pair of cotton briefs with Thursday stamped across the front. It looked as though they might have had flowers printed on them at one point, but they’d faded terribly. There was a hole in the elastic above her right hip.

  Normally the women he brought to this hotel would turn their nose up at anything that wasn’t La Perla or Agent Provocateur. Sometimes they wore lacy thongs; sometimes they had those horribly strappy contraptions that held up stockings. Sexy? Yeah. Pain in the ass? Absolutely. But here was Darcy in her falling-apart panties, complaining that it was laundry day, and yet he was harder than he’d ever been. What the fuck? Reed chuckled.

  “Stop laughing!” She bent down to reach for the puddle of fabric at her feet but Reed’s hand shot out.

  “It’s not you,” he said.

  She tried to shake him off. “You don’t have to be such an asshole about it.”

  “I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “You’re just so different and it took me by surprise. Stand up. Come on.” He sucked in a breath. “It’s refreshing.”

  “Tell me something, Reed.” She yanked her wrist free and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you agreeing to sleep with me as some kind of consolation prize?”

  Her words stung harder than a slap across the face. “Excuse me?”

  “Is this a consolation fuck because the women you’d usually bring here hate you now?” Her lower lip trembled, but she forced it into submission. “Are you lowering your standards because there’s no one else?”

  “No. God, Darcy. Is that what you think of me?” Anger flared in his chest like a struck match. “You think I’d stick my dick in anyone just to get laid?”

  “Why else would I be here? I’m not your type. You’ve made that very clear.”

  He fought against the swell of resentment stampeding up his throat and locked his jaw firmly so he didn’t say anything out of spite. This wasn’t about him. It was about her. Her insecurities. Her doubts and fears.

  “I’m going to put a stop to this right now.” He scanned the room until he found what he was looking for. “Come out here.”

  Darcy’s eyes dropped down to the dress at her feet, but she didn’t make a move to pick it up. Instead, she followed him, naked except for her Thursday panties and a pair of chunky black boots that looked way hotter than they should have. He stopped in front of the full-length mirror inside the entrance to the hotel suite.

  “Stand here.” He pointed to the space in front of him and she complied, her brows drawn together. “What do you see?”

  She kept her arms covering her chest. “Me standing in front of a bossy asshole. It’s quite the picture.”

  “Cute.” He swept her hair behind her so that her shoulders and chest were uncovered, and then he reached around and pulled her hands gently down by her sides. “Want to know what I see?”

  Vulnerability flickered across her face, but she hid it with her usual snark. “Are you going to tell me I’m beautiful?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Are you going to tell me you brought me here because the thought of not having me breaks your heart?”

  “Sweetheart, there’s a lump of coal where my heart should be. So shut your smart mouth and let me speak.”

  Her
electric eyes snapped up to his in the mirror. “Please, go right ahead, Mr. McMahon. I can’t wait to hear it.”

  “I see a woman who lashes out at other people to cover up her own insecurities.” He smoothed his hands up and down her arms, ready to hold her tight if she dared to storm away. “She’s different, which she thinks is bad. But it’s not bad. It’s sexy. She thinks she should be someone else…but she can’t.”

  “Nice story,” Darcy quipped, but the sting had gone out of her tone.

  Her muscles were thawing under his touch, her back pressing to his chest. It was hard not to notice how different they looked—him in his expensive Italian suit and her in combat boots and not much else. His fingertips traced the swirl of flowers etched into the skin above her elbow. She had a full sleeve—from shoulder to wrist—birds and books and words and leaves, all expertly executed in black and gray. A small black cat and a moon decorated her right thigh.

  “She wants desperately to feel comfortable in her body.” He moved his hands to her rib cage, soothing her with a gentle up and down motion. The words under her breast called to his fingertips and he traced the curved design. “To regain something she lost a long time ago.”

  Darcy’s chest moved up and down with each breath. The tension had leached out of her body now and she watched him with a mix of wonderment and anticipation. His hands continued to move steady and slowly, one closing in on her nipple and the other smoothing down over her stomach toward the edge of the Thursday panties.

  “What else do you see?” she asked, this time without any sarcasm.

  He dipped a finger under the elastic. “A woman who’s going to look incredible when I make her come.”

  “Who says you’re good enough to do that?” She chuckled as her head lolled back against his chest.

  “Did you read all the reviews?” he said dryly. “I might be a monster, but I’m good in bed. That’s the assessment.”

  “But we’re not in bed.”

  Her ass wriggled back and forth as he dipped his hand lower, seeking out her sensitive spot. “There’s a bed in the vicinity. Good enough for me.”

  A strangled unghh shot out of her lips when he curled his fingers against her sex, brushing her clit back and forth. She was wet, hot. Reed ground his erection against her backside, needing to relieve the pressure building there.

  Not yet. Wait for her.

  “Oh God.” Her hands fisted his suit pants as she circled her hips against his hand.

  “Still doubting my ability to make you come?” He kissed the side of her neck.

  The sight of them in the mirror, his hand down the front of her underwear, a look of utter surrender on her face, was enough to make him blow. It was raw and intimate. More intimate than he was used to—usually there was a lot of “careful, don’t ruin the lace” when he screwed women. They were practiced and perfect. Sensual, yes. But it felt like they restrained themselves so they still looked “pretty” while they had sex.

  Darcy, on the other hand, had her mouth hanging open in a silent moan and her eyes squeezed shut. When she panted, a cute, little crease formed between her eyes—he wanted to kiss her there until the tension melted away. But there was only one way to take care of that now.

  He circled her faster, thrumming her clit in time with the harried puffs of breath coming from her lips. Her words had turned to an incoherent babble, a breathless chant of pleasure that snaked through him and gripped him at the base of his cock.

  “You’re so close, Darcy.” He tugged on her ear with his teeth. “Come hard for me, baby. I want you to be nice and wet for me.”

  “Reed,” she gasped. “Oh God.”

  The tremors started in her thighs and moved up until her hips jerked against his hand. He wrapped his free hand around her waist, keeping her upright as the spasms took over her body. Her head fell forward and a rush of moisture coated his hand.

  “Am I good enough?” He clucked his tongue as he buried his face into her hair. “Silly question.”

  “That was…” She sagged back against him. “I don’t even know.”

  “It was a warm-up.” He picked her up and carried her through the suite until they hit the bed. “Act one.”

  “Act one of…?” Her eyes fluttered. “I don’t think I’ve got more than one in me.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” He set her down on the bed and dropped to his knees, his fingers unknotting the laces on her boots.

  She lay back, propped on her elbows, and watched him. The crease was back between her brows, but this time it looked like something else. She was trying to figure him out.

  “What?” He pulled off one boot and dropped it onto the floor with a thunk before he got to work on the other one.

  “You’re a confusing guy.”

  Reed raised a brow. “How’s that? I’m in a hotel room with a gorgeous woman who’s pretty much naked. Sounds exactly like my MO.”

  “Is this how you normally are with other women?” She tilted her head.

  “How do you think I am with you?”

  Color crawled up her neck. “I don’t know… Gentle. Sweet.”

  “Gentle? Like I said, that was the warm-up.” He nipped at the skin on the inside of her leg. “I’m partial to a little spanking. Maybe I’ll tie you up as well.”

  She huffed. “When you’re not being a smart-ass, you’re actually a nice guy.”

  “Don’t be fooled.” He tugged off the other boot and rocked back on his heels. “It’s all for show.”

  Chapter 14

  “Just think of Reed McMahon as a human vibrator. He’ll leave you panting, but he won’t cuddle you after.”

  —FormerlyMissBrown

  Darcy flopped back onto the bed and sighed at the silky duvet caressing her back. This was premium all the way. She moved her arms back and forth, creating “snow angels” in the fabric. Focusing on those things felt a hell of a lot easier than trying to figure out the mystery that was Reed McMahon.

  Hot, cold, up, down. Was he a selfish prick or a victim of bad PR? How much of this was an act? If only Darcy’s love of reading translated into being able to read this confounding man.

  “What are you doing?” Reed hovered over her, one hand planted beside her hip and the other tugging her underwear down. He was still fully clothed and that made her nakedness feel even more extreme.

  “Just basking in the post-orgasm glow.”

  “Don’t get too comfy.” He divested her of the Thursday panties and brought his lips down to her belly button. “We’re going to get you back into pre-orgasm glow shortly.”

  “Isn’t it your turn yet?” she asked.

  Reed speared her with a hot, penetrating stare. It was the kind that all girls hoped to receive one day—the kind that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Darcy swallowed, squirming beneath him.

  “My turn?” He dragged the question out. “That your way of saying you want to do something to me?”

  Yes. The word hissed in her mind, low and dark. Desire unfurled in her belly at the thought of unbuckling that expensive-looking belt at his waist and sliding those baby-soft pants down his muscular thighs. She could tell already he was going to be big. Thick. There was something about the idea of taking him in her mouth that made her tummy flutter—perhaps because her ex had only ever let her do it with the lights off.

  “Darcy.” His fingers came to her chin and she realized she’d been squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

  “You’ve been doing a pretty good job so far,” she said, running her tongue along her lower lip.

  He brought his mouth to hers and pressed her into the bed, his thigh settling between her legs. Darcy wound her arms around his neck, her moans stifled by the thrust of Reed’s tongue into her mouth. The man kissed like he was fighting for his life—it was
heady. Intoxicating.

  The cold metal of his belt dug into her stomach. “You need to be wearing far less clothing,” she said, catching her breath between kisses. “I can’t be the only one naked.”

  “I guess I got so caught up in you I forgot to undress myself.” He propped himself up on both hands, his legs still between hers.

  Darcy reached for his buckle. “I can help things along.”

  He watched her intently and she tried not to let her nerves show. She and Ben had been together so long that sex had become a routine, like doing the dishes or drying her hair. At the time, she’d thought that was normal—slipping into infrequent, lights-off, boring sex.

  Not normal, just one of many red flags you didn’t catch.

  She gritted her teeth, forcing the shameful memories out of her mind. She had a sexy man here now. The past wasn’t going to rob her of that. Yanking the belt, she focused on slowly unveiling Reed. This was her gift from all she’d gone through last year and she was going to unwrap him like a present.

  The buckle made a chinking sound as it fell open and she pulled his shirt out. His stomach was flat against her palms, rippled with muscle, and the barest trail of hair tickled her fingertips. She worked at his buttons, popping them one by one, methodically and efficiently, through the holes until his chest was bared to her. Yep, he wasn’t short on muscles, that was for damn sure.

  “Sure you don’t want me to help?” He stayed in position, balanced over her, his hair flopping down.

  “Shh. I’m working.” She came back to his waistband, unhooking the catch on his pants and then sliding his zipper down over the hard ridge of his erection. “Can’t you see how hard I’m concentrating?”

  A throaty chuckle vibrated through the air. “You do look like you’re about to tackle a math equation.”

  “Yes. It’s all a matter of numbers, isn’t it?” Emboldened, she slipped her hand into his pants and rubbed the heel of her palm up and down his length. “Length times width.”

  “Is this how librarians talk dirty? I have been missing out.” He grunted when she wrapped her fingers around him as best she could with his boxer briefs still on. “Does the solution add up?”