Chapter 9

Emma locked the door to her shop as the last guest left, and stood there for a moment, staring out the window at the road dappled with streetlights and the occasional headlights of passing cars. Behind her, she could hear Ian packing up his ropes in the back room. Her body was still thrumming with energy, as if she’d been plugged into a live current, the excess spilling out through her pores. She felt aware of her body in a manner different than usual. When Ian had wrapped the ropes around her, she had felt . . . beautiful. Desirable. Sexy. In the aftermath, it was difficult to reconcile these feelings with how she usually felt about her body.

Returning to the back room, she stood in the doorway and leaned against the doorjamb, watching Ian squat to zip up his second suitcase. His glasses had slid down the bridge of his nose, and he nudged them into place with one finger before rocking back onto his heels. Looking up, he met her gaze, and they stared at each other without speaking for a handful of breaths. Emma knew she should probably say something to break the silence, but the air felt charged between them, a holdover from the energy she sensed in her own body, and she worried that noise would break the spell.

Ian shifted up to his feet in one graceful, fluid motion, still looking into her eyes. “Are you all right?”

Emma lifted one shoulder, forcing nonchalance as she stepped fully into the room. She would have put her hands in her pockets, but her yoga pants didn’t have any, and she fumbled for a minute before crossing her arms over her chest. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

As he walked over to her, she had a hard time fathoming how Ian had ever been gangly and awkward, since he had obviously grown into anything but. With nowhere to go, Emma leaned back against the wall, keeping her arms crossed over her chest. A dozen moments from their past flashed through her mind, casual conversations across the store counter as she helped him find books, always operating from the assumption that he was unattainable, uninterested in her as anything other than an acquaintance. The look in his eyes now seemed so foreign, as if he were a completely different person, one she could have, one she very much wanted to twine herself around and claim.

He pressed one hand to the wall above her head and leaned on it, invading her personal space with one easy movement, and she could smell the masculine tang of his skin. The scent and his proximity made it difficult to breathe. “There’s nobody here but us, Em. How about you stop pretending and tell me what you want?”

You, she wanted to say, her lips even forming around the word. His gaze was on her mouth. His eyes shone dark, feral, and fuck, he wanted her. This wasn’t just him teasing her or flirting; he wanted her the way a man wanted a woman, and the hell with all of it, the hell with whatever tomorrow was going to bring: She was going to have him, at least for tonight.

Forcing herself to meet his gaze, she channeled all the sexiness she’d felt while he was binding her, all the confidence his artfully crafted ties had inspired. “I want you upstairs.”

His mouth crashed into hers as if he’d barely been restraining himself, driving all conscious thought from her mind except Yes, this, good. It wasn’t beautiful, as first kisses went; it was messy, all spit-slick lips and tongues, teeth clashing, and the vibration of his moan sent a thrill right down her spine, but it was glorious in its urgency. Ian crowded out the rest of the space between them, pressing Emma flush against the wall, hiking one of her legs up and rocking his hips in a way that drew a breathy gasp from her. His hands were everywhere. They slid down to her ass, pulling her against him, then one tangled in her hair while the other wrapped around her middle. She got lost in the sensations, his mouth against hers, the firmness of his thigh between her legs.

Emma broke the kiss to gasp for air. Ian caught her earlobe between his teeth, then moved down, sucking harsh kisses into the sensitive skin of her neck. Emma thought her knees might give out at any moment.

“Upstairs. Now.” She pushed against him, needing him but wanting to have him somewhere other than the floor of her storage room. When he stepped back, she pulled him toward the back staircase leading to her flat.

The apartment was dark when they tumbled inside, only a few patches of light checkering the floor from the front windows. Her hands fisting in his button-down shirt, Emma tugged Ian toward the bedroom, searching out his mouth for clumsy, greedy kisses. If she thought too much about this, she wouldn’t go through with it, but it was easy not to think with his hands roaming up under the back of her shirt.

Collapsing back onto the bed, Emma used her grip on Ian’s shirt to pull him on top of her. “Emma,” he sighed into her mouth, and went right back to kissing her.

She was glad he didn’t want to talk. She couldn’t talk about this, couldn’t think about whatever might happen next, wanted to put aside her overly logical, cautiously practical self for a night and take what he was offering. Pleasure, touch, and it didn’t have to mean anything at all.

Sitting back on his heels, Ian pulled off his button-down and his T-shirt, and Emma could see the outline of his torso in the dim light. She couldn’t see his face; he was backlit by the yellow-ocher city lights spilling in through the open blinds, and it was easier to be anonymous in the near-darkness. His fingers skimmed up her rib cage as he tugged the hem of her shirt up and over her head. His kisses trailed down her neck, over the swell of her breasts, his hot mouth finding a nipple through the satiny fabric of her bra. Each pull on the tender flesh sent sparks through her body, and she had her hand tangled in his hair before she knew she’d done it. While he continued to nip at her skin, he reached beneath her, hands searching along her skin, and she lifted up slightly to let him unclasp her bra. The motion pressed her breast more firmly into his mouth, and he sucked harder as he peeled the cloth away from her sensitive skin. Then his lips were on her nipple directly, warm and wet and overwhelming, and Emma couldn’t help the whimpering noises falling from her lips.

He kissed his way across to her other breast, lingering in the valley between them for a moment to lick the soft skin before continuing across and taking her other nipple into his mouth. His sucking turned rough, hard with the sharp edge of teeth, and she liked it, God, she wanted more of it. She ran her hands down the planes of his back, feeling the wings of his shoulder blades and the lean muscle beneath his skin. His rich, earthy smell filled her lungs with each breath, and she squeezed her eyes more tightly closed.

She didn’t notice his hands on her waistband, pulling off her pants along with her underwear, and she was naked beneath him before she’d had time to realize what he was doing. This was really going to happen. A flash of panic closed her throat, her body freezing up briefly, but enough for him to notice.

“Are you okay? Do you want to—”

“Yes. Yes. I’m fine.” Opening her eyes, she reached for him again, needing the warm assuredness of his body on hers, the kisses that would stop her from worrying about how she looked, whether he really wanted her, wanted to continue. He paused, as if considering, but then slipped out of the rest of his own clothes and settled down beside her. His erection felt hard and hot against her thigh, proof that they were doing this, and if she felt overwhelmed again, she pushed those feelings aside.

He slipped one leg between hers, pushing her thighs apart, and Emma spread her legs willingly for his fingers. He found her clit with casual deftness, and the sudden surge of pleasure drove any other thoughts out of her mind. A few small circles, exactly how she enjoyed it, and she was rocking her hips into his hand. One long finger pressed up inside her, and he exhaled harsh and broken against her neck, shuddering as if he was as overwhelmed as she was. She knew she should reciprocate, should find him and touch him and make him feel as good as he was making her feel. She slid one hand along his body until she found his erection.

Oh, fuck, he felt incredible. At her touch, he sucked in a gasp, hips bucking once before he was able to control it. He slipped a second finger into her alongside the first, and in the shock of the added fullness, she gripped him more tightly and felt him hiss against her ear.

“S-sorry,” she panted, loosening her grip, but he made a noise of disagreement.

“ ’S good. Keep—keep doing that.”

Emma squeezed harder, her fingers wrapping around his length more firmly than she would have thought he wanted, and he groaned into her neck and latched on to the tender skin there. She was going to have a bruise in the morning, but she didn’t care, because he was working his fingers in and out of her like he’d been doing it all his life, thumb firmly rooted to her clit. He felt so thick in her hand, and she wanted him inside her right the fuck now.

Then his fingers were gone, and he knelt in between her legs, pushing her knees up and to the sides, spreading her open before him. She remembered what it felt like to be tied up, her legs open, and a rush of heat ran through her from head to toe.

Taking her hand in his, Ian brought her hand back to his cock, wrapping her fingers around him again and closing his own hand over hers. With long, slow, firm strokes, he showed her how to touch him, how to squeeze at the head, spreading the fluid with her thumb over the sensitive skin. Groaning his approval, he tipped his head back, sitting back on his heels and guiding her through a few more strokes.

“Condom?” His voice sounded rough, desperate, and she might not have recognized it as his if she didn’t already know. “I’m clean, but . . . yeah. Condom.”

“Yeah. Of course. Nightstand.” She let go of his cock to reach into the drawer beside her and hand him the condom. Now, her eyes more adjusted to the dark, she could see more of his body in the dim amber light. He was lean and toned, and his dick was everything out of her late-night fantasies. He rolled the rubber down over his length.

“How do you want this?” He reached down and rubbed her clit again, slicking her wetness over her folds.

How was she supposed to talk with him doing that? “I—I don’t care. Just—now, please.”

His smile flashed white in the darkness. “All right.” He reached under her ass and pulled her down the bed, hips sliding up onto his thighs where he was kneeling. Emma flushed; this position left her so exposed, her hips angled up to him. He took his cock in hand and pressed it to her folds, shifting forward a bit, kneeling up off his heels to push the head inside.

Oh, fuck.

When she heard him chuckle, she realized she’d said it out loud. “You okay?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes.” God, “okay” didn’t even begin to describe it.

He was thick, and it had been a while, and his cock felt like it was going to fill every inch of her. He shifted forward slightly, holding the base of his shaft as he guided it all the way into her.

The depth of penetration made Emma’s head swim. The angle meant he was pressing upward inside her, and every subtle shift of his hips hit her G-spot with perfect precision. She wrapped her legs up and over his hips as he began to rock, the head of his cock gliding back and forth right where she wanted it.

“How’s this feel?” His voice sounded strained, and Emma nodded and moaned as another push made the pleasure rush right through her. “God, you’re so tight.” He began to rub her clit again, and Emma couldn’t really move, so she gripped the bedsheets and held on. Used to having to control her own pleasure, she took only a minute to realize he was going to make her come like this, with her doing nothing but taking it. Even though she wasn’t tied up, she felt helpless, unable to even thrust back against him.

“That’s right.” He rocked harder, still buried deep inside her, and she felt the pleasure building faster than she’d known it could. “Tying you up tonight, Em . . . Fuck, I wanted—I wanted you like this, just like this.” His words made her clench down around him, and he groaned. “You’re so goddamn hot with those ropes . . . God, I want to see you come.”

She whimpered, actually whimpered, and it was as much from his words as what he was doing. A few more thrusts, his hips working faster, cock rubbing in short, fierce strokes inside her, and her orgasm was torn out of her as she cried out and arched up off the bed. The white-hot pleasure bloomed throughout her body, spreading outward until even her fingers and toes tingled with it, and she collapsed back onto the mattress.

He went with her, shifting up off his kneeling position to lie fully on top of her, his cock sliding home once more. The hard thrust drew an aftershock from Emma, and she had no time to recover before he was driving into her, hard and fast, chasing his own pleasure as she shivered through the last remains of her climax. With a few sharp jerks of his hips, he was coming inside her, shuddering and panting into her neck.

They lay there catching their breath for a few moments, coming down from their highs, before Ian rolled off her with a groan. He sat up to dispose of the condom, and Emma stared up at the ceiling in the near-darkness, trying to control her breathing and make sense of these myriad emotions. Part of her wanted to cuddle, to bring Ian close and wrap herself around him to sleep. He’d probably do it if she asked, curl up with her and let her fall asleep in his arms . . . but she’d only be delaying the inevitable. Men like Ian didn’t date women like her. Sex was understandable, a tumble in the dark with no one to know, but either way, he was going to be gone in the morning.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Emma spoke over the lump in her throat. “You should . . . you should probably go. I mean, unless you . . . want to stay or something.” She sat up, too, wishing she were wearing clothes again, and pulled her pillow in front of her.

The light from the window caught one side of Ian’s face. He looked surprised at her comment. Maybe he was usually the one trying to make excuses to leave. “Oh. Are you . . . are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, of course. I’m fine. That was awesome.” And it was, it was mind-blowing, and if Emma wasn’t careful, she was going to want what she couldn’t have. “But we both have to work tomorrow. You’ve got stuff downstairs. You should . . . yeah, you should get your stuff.”

“Right. Work.” Ian began pulling his clothes on, and the awkwardness was palpable. Emma tugged the covers around herself, a fluffy shield of sorts. He asked, “Can I get out through the store? I mean . . . all my stuff is down there, so . . . ”

“Oh. Right. I’ll let you out.” Emma pulled her clothes back on, trying not to make eye contact. Why was this so weird? It didn’t have to be weird, right? People had one-night stands all the time. Ian followed her down the back staircase into the storage room where they’d held the workshop, and at the sight of his bags of rope, Emma felt herself blush. She remembered all the things he’d said to her in the midst of sex, and her skin felt tight and uncomfortable. At the front door, two rolling suitcases behind him, he looked like he was going to kiss her good night. He didn’t, though, just gave her a strained smile before turning and walking away.