The Man I Want to Be Page 13
Come on. Give in.
“I…I can’t,” she said almost to herself. “I can’t. I have to do this. It’s up to me. I went into Michael’s room on my own, and I’ll do anything else I have to on my own.”
“Don’t torture me like that anymore,” he said, jealousy rising again.
She started, her eyes displaying her surprise. “What?”
“Don’t do that again,” he repeated. “It was complete torture. Knowing where you were and who you were with, not being able to do anything but listen. The sounds of another man touching you. Putting his mouth on you. It took everything I had not to march in there and break his fucking neck.”
Kenna swallowed, but she didn’t look away.
“Worse,” he went on, heat beginning to course through him. “I started picturing me in that room with you.” He ran a hand down her side, gripped her thigh, and hoisted it up over his hip.
Her breath hitched.
“Everything,” he said in a strangled voice. “I remember every goddamn sound you used to make when I touched you. It fucking haunts me every time I close my eyes.”
He spun them so her back was against the glass door. He pulled her other leg up around him and stepped into her spread legs, covering her with his body. He dipped his mouth to her throat, running his tongue along the warm, bare skin, giving him the satisfaction of hearing her quick inhale.
“Bryan,” she breathed, gripping his shirt like she was ready to rip it off.
“This,” he growled. “This was what I was doing to you. Not him. Me.”
“W-what else?” she said. “What else did you do to me?”
He grabbed hold of the tangles at her mid-back and tugged. Her chin flew up and her back arched off the door, exposing the rest of her neck. He took full advantage, working his way up with his teeth and tongue.
She locked her legs and writhed her core against him.
Pulling back slightly, he cupped one of her breasts over her dress. “Now these…these are a hell of a lot bigger than I remember.” He kneaded her through the fabric, but it wasn’t enough. Forcing her strapless dress down toward her stomach, he coaxed her tits from the tight hold. They fell out, heavy and full. They were his for the taking. He roughly played with one nipple, which was now at full alert. Squeezing her breast, he tipped it up and sucked the ever-loving fuck out of the thing.
Kenna groaned loud and forceful, which sent his desire into overload. Goddamn, he missed that sound.
Bracing an arm under her ass, he reached between them, searching for what he knew would be his undoing. One quick slide of his fingers against her heat, and she gasped. He wanted more. A hell of a lot more.
Tyke wrapped his fist around the front of her panties, feeling the smooth, silky skin underneath, and gave the skimpy fabric a forceful tug. It shredded in his hands and fell to the balcony floor beneath his feet.
When he touched her without any barrier, feeling her wet and ready for him, it made him so hard he didn’t think he’d ever find release. He couldn’t. He’d been this way from the moment he’d left, and he’d continue this way for the rest of his life. Only with Kenna. She was his ruin.
“Bryan,” she said, her voice soft and pleading. “Oh God, Bryan.” Grabbing at the hem of his shirt, she jerked it upward.
“Forget it.” He sure as hell wasn’t taking either hand away from her to help get the shirt off.
“But I want to see you,” she whimpered. “Touch you.”
“You wanna touch something? Here. This is what I need you to touch.” He pulled back enough to pop the button of his shorts and lower the zipper. His erection sprang out of his pants, and with the way she started working herself against him, it landed just right to ignite his climb.
She moaned as she slid along his shaft in long, fluid motions.
He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. Fuck. He wasn’t even inside her yet, and he was ready to blow.
“Kenna,” he said, clamping a hand onto her full hip. “Slow down.”
“No.” She reached for his dick and lifted herself up, trying to seat herself on him. “I…I want…I don’t know. Just do it.” Her voice was wild. Frantic.
He wanted her. More than anything. He needed the release, and he wanted to be the one to give her one. But not like this. Not because he was jealous out of his mind and because she was desperate to forget.
They had a shit ton of baggage and sleeping together tonight wouldn’t do anything to solve that. If anything, it would make it worse. She deserved not to be screwed over. He’d done that enough for one lifetime.
He stopped moving and loosened his hold on her ass. After a few seconds, she got the message and stopped, too.
She glanced at him with a confused expression. “What is it?”
“Kenna…”
She must’ve seen something extinguish in his eyes, because hers hardened and her lips pinched. She wiggled against him, which didn’t do anything to help his hard-on die. He let her drop, and once on her feet, she looked up at him and cracked her palm across his cheek. “Fuck you.”
Kenna stomped into the room, slamming the glass door closed behind her.
He stood on the balcony, dick hanging out of his pants, staring after her.
He’d lost his head. Coming on to her. Touching her. Then slamming on the brakes, which probably wasn’t the smartest move. But he couldn’t think clearly around her.
He wanted Kenna. He shouldn’t. He didn’t have the right. But damn if he could convince himself otherwise. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to go back in time. Back to when she was his. Back before all the shit. Before fate threw him a curveball of epic proportions.
Before 9/11 hit, and he suddenly felt patriotic and wanted to do something about it. So he’d enlisted. Wasn’t until he was overseas, fighting for a cause he didn’t understand, getting sent on missions he didn’t agree with that he realized the error in his ways. He’d promised Kenna he’d come back to her. They’d start their life together.
But then his convoy was blown up. The docs gave him the bad news. And suddenly, everything they’d planned had evaporated around him. Poof. Gone. So he decided to walk. To give her the chance to lead a full and fulfilling life. Without him.
And when this week was over, he was going to have to do it again. He’d have to leave her knowing that no matter how bad it hurt, it would be nothing compared to the agony of knowing if she stayed with him, he’d never give her the one thing in the world she always wanted: a family.
Chapter Twelve
Kenna lay in the barely warm water of the porcelain tub, eyes closed, hand still between her legs. The internal vibrations hadn’t stopped yet, so she let them ride out, trying to relish in the glow of satisfaction. But she wasn’t satisfied. Not even close. She’d just gotten herself off a second time in the bathroom she was sharing with Bear, and she wasn’t any closer to being over him.
After the incident on the balcony—where she was ready to have him right there in the open—and then he’d stopped, she marched in and decided to relax in the bath. Well, relaxing meant not being frustrated. And in order for her not to be frustrated, she needed to relieve some stress.
Her stomach cramped at the thought of how many times she’d done this over the past decade. How many times she’d imagined his hands on her. His mouth. It’s the only way she could get herself off.
Thinking about Bear doing to her what he pleased.
She was out of her mind for him. She needed him. And he’d stopped her. Turned down sex with her. The embarrassment was harsh enough, but it was the shot to her ego that really hurt. What was wrong with her that he’d not only left her all those years ago, but now he didn’t want to sleep with her, either?
They used to have such hot sex back in the day. Wild, crazy, uninhibited sex. There wasn’t anything they hadn’t tried. She was comfortable with Bear, and he was comfortable with her.
And yet he must not have been as comfortable as she thought. Or there was
something about her he didn’t want.
She sank down into the water, immersing her whole head. When she came back up, wiping the soapy water from her eyes, she decided she wasn’t going to let it bother her anymore. She wasn’t going to hold onto something that wasn’t there. She thought she’d seen a glimmer of hope that there was something between them. A spark of what used to be. He was fighting so hard to help her solve the thefts. She could’ve sworn he was doing it because he still cared for her. Might even want her back. This could be his way to prove he was a changed man.
Of course, it would be in her worst interest to think they could give it another go. But that didn’t stop her heart from hoping.
But if he could turn away from her that easily, then she was wrong.
A loud knock sounded on the other side of the door.
“You didn’t drown, did you?” Bryan said from the other side. “How long you gonna be? I gotta get in there.”
She didn’t respond.
“Kenna?”
Still nothing.
“Seriously,” he said. “Answer me.”
“Give me a minute.” Kenna flipped the faucet to turn the hot water on and pulled the plug to drain the water. Standing, she lifted the nob on the wall so water rained down from the showerhead.
She tilted her head back, letting the hot water flow down her hair and back. The gentle pelting sensation was oddly soothing as it massaged her tension. Tension she still couldn’t seem to squash.
Spinning, she pulled the showerhead attachment down from the wall and guided the spray over her body—her breasts, hips, and stomach. Before getting to her thighs, she stopped midway, letting the consistent tap of water hit her where her ache persisted. Using her other hand, she opened herself to the spray, breathing a sigh of contentment as her tension began to build again—that incessant, never-ending reminder that Bear had left his mark where no other man could cure.
She needed release.
She caressed the spot, using the dual stimulation to give her what she needed again.
“Mmm,” she moaned, eyes closing. “Just like that, Bear. Just like that.”
Her hips pressed forward and back, her body needing it harder and faster. Rougher. The way he used to give it to her. She increased the pressure, but it wasn’t enough.
Turning the dial on the showerhead, the flow of water immediately kicked up in intensity, hammering against her in the most delicious, erotic way.
“Oh.” She clenched her teeth, trying not to cry out. Holding it back only heightened her pleasure. “Yes. Just. Like. That.”
Her core clenched. Her breasts ached. She was so close.
That’s when a sharp intake of air sounded from the other side of the bathroom.
She shrieked and released the showerhead. It dropped and clattered onto the tub, spraying water all over the room. Slamming a hand on the nozzle, she quickly turned the water off.
Bryan stood in the doorway staring at her with an expression of surprise that quickly morphed into extreme hunger. His hot-as-hell gaze coasted down her wet body from head to feet and back up. He stopped between her legs, staring as he licked his lips.
A small shudder rolled over her at the memory of how amazing it felt when he touched her there an hour ago.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked. “I said I needed a minute!”
He brought his gaze up to hers briefly. “Keep going.”
She swallowed and glanced around the room.
“If you get that fucking hot imagining me touching you, then go on. Get yourself off.”
She sniffed out a breath. “I’m fine. It was nothing. I was just—”
“Bullshit.” He stepped into the room, kicking the door closed behind him.
Her heart zapped to attention, ramping up her pulse. The climb that had been building before he barged in was still there, waiting for release. She was dying for it.
Bear’s hands landed on her hips where he hoisted her out of the tub, sitting her on the edge, facing him. He pressed her legs wide and stared down at her.
“Do it,” he said, eyes ablaze. “Finish yourself off.”
“I… No, I…I don’t need…”
“I’ll get you started.” Without any warning, he inserted two fingers into her, forcing out that cry she’d been smothering. The muscles in his biceps worked as he drove in and out. Using his thumb, he circled her until she sighed and closed her eyes. Yep, that did it. She was building again, that quick.
He pulled his fingers away from her, making her whimper.
“Now, do it,” he said in a low, steely voice. “You were right there. I could feel it. Give yourself the release.”
Torture. It was absolute, blessed torture. She needed the relief. She was on the ledge, hanging over in search of freedom.
Fine. She’d give him what he wanted, only because it was going to give her what she needed. If he wasn’t going to get her off, then she’d show him exactly what he’d been missing all these years. She’d remind him how it looked when she let go.
Kenna took a deep fortifying breath and slid a finger down her core, opening herself up to him.
He grunted with approval.
Circling the spot she’d touched before, she inserted two fingers from her other hand and began to work in tandem, hitting the areas she knew all too well for the quickest, most powerful finale.
His nostrils flared as he watched her, his own hand skimming down his body. He cupped himself on the outside of his shorts, gripping hard. He bit his lower lip. “Fuck, Kenna. You’re even more beautiful right now.”
Yes, and he’d chosen for her to satisfy herself, so she was going to make the most of it. Later, he could get himself off three times in row like she’d had to do. See how he liked that.
She pointed her toes and widened her legs, giving him an even more personal view. It wasn’t going to take long. Between his intense expression and the pressure she was administering on herself, it was a perfect combination for a massive explosion.
He groaned, long and guttural. And he lowered his zipper. Pulling himself out of his shorts, he used his large hand to clutch his erection. Sliding slow and purposeful down his length, he focused on her hands.
Maybe this was what she’d needed. Not just imagining Bear with her, but him actually being here, showing her how much she affected him. He might’ve turned down sex earlier, but if he didn’t want her right now, he was a damn good actor. His skin was flush. Muscles taut. That male instinct to jump her and finish her off was barely contained. She reveled in the anticipation that he might pull her against him, turn her around, and drive into her.
But he wouldn’t. That’s not how this game worked. He would watch, and she would obey. Only this time, he wouldn’t take her again afterward like they used to. No, they would watch each other get off, and then she would walk out on him, like he’d walked out on her.
There it was. The ascent. It was starting to peak, so she pressed harder, driving her fingers into herself, and moaning loudly. She’d never been quiet during sex, and she wasn’t going to start now.
“Bear,” she said. “I need you so bad right now.” She worked herself faster. Damn, she wanted him after this. All of him. Inside her.
“Let me see it.” Bear growled, and his eyes illuminated. His chest heaved quick, deep breaths. The hand on his cock was thrusting as fast as she was pumping herself.
“Do it,” he said, his voice tight. “Come, Kenna.”
Just as he grunted, and his hand stopped its motion, his stomach pulling in tight, she let go. She flew over the edge, the powerful release she’d been waiting for since he’d left finally overtaking her. Her breath caught in her lungs. Her eyes darkened at the corners. Her muscles stiffened and then relaxed.
It was the most satisfaction she’d had in years. And he hadn’t even touched her.
She’d just finished drying her hair and applying a quick coat of mascara when Bryan appeared in the bathroom doorway. This time she was fully cloth
ed.
They’d been silent when they went to bed, both facing opposite directions, neither broaching the subject of what they’d done. Which was fine by her. She didn’t need his words. Not anymore. So she’d woken up, showered, and was getting herself ready for the day. Hopefully with the busy schedule ahead of them, she could stay occupied.
Bryan leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms, looking at her through the mirror. “I feel like I should apologize.”
“For what?”
“Last night.”
“Don’t,” she said. “That was the best release I’ve had in—”
“Not that. For what happened on the balcony.”
“Oh,” she said, sobering immediately. “No biggie. It’s over. I got what I wanted, so…” She shrugged.
“Did you?” His expression turned probing.
“Yeah.” She’d gotten off. That’s what she’d needed at that moment.
He let out a sigh. “Kenna, we’re never going to be like we were. We can’t.”
She placed the mascara wand on the counter and turned to face him. “What does that mean?”
Bear ran a hand over the crown of his long hair, tucking a few stray strands behind his ear. “There’s stuff you don’t understand. I’m not the same guy I was. I can’t… It’s not possible for me to…” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “Look, it’s just best if we get through the rest of this week without any expectations, okay?”
Expectations? Of what?
She didn’t have any expectations after he rejected her so easily last night. Sure, they’d gotten off in front of each other, but it wasn’t like he’d been the one to finish her off.
She shrugged. “Fine with me.”
He blinked a few times in rapid succession. “It is?”
She picked up the wand and turned back to the mirror, applying a final coat of mascara to her top lashes. “Yep. Totally fine.”
“Oh.” He rocked back on his heels and placed his hands into his shorts pockets. “I just thought the other night with the dance…when I walked away…and, you know, out on the balcony…and then you told me you wanted me while you got yourself off… I just figured you’d think…well, maybe you’d assume, you know, the way you reacted it was like you wanted more from me.”