Her Counselor (Love Hack, #3) Read online

  She hadn’t considered doing either. Was she slipping? “This isn’t all on me. We’ve both got the same things at stake, unless you know something I don’t. You’re not that single-minded.”

  Under the table, his foot nudged her toes, and his gaze never left her face. “I prefer the term focused. Right now, you’re the center of that focus. Why are you so afraid of your own desires?”

  “Excuse me?” The rapid change in subject, the way he’d avoided her accusation, and the not-very-well veiled insult knocked her off balance. It jarred her out of the moment and gave her a chance to pull her head back into line. What was he doing, taking the conversation here, knowing what they stood to lose if they crossed that line? Then again, crossing the line wasn’t an issue if no one else found out “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think. I’ve grown up, and I’ve learned a lot about myself along the way.”

  “Or forgotten.”

  The witty back and forth was one thing, but she didn’t want to play mind games right now. She wanted to cut to the truth. “You’re toying with me, Damon. What’s going on? What do you want?”

  “I’m being honest. I want the same thing I almost always want. You.”

  If her thoughts and pulse had been going haywire before, it was nothing compared to the way they raced now. The words she didn’t want to hear sounded so right. “I’m flattered, but you keep dancing around the heart of the issue. We can’t.”

  “That doesn’t sound like I’m not interested.”

  The words hit closer to home than she’d like, gnawing at kinks she normally kept tucked deep, deep down. Her body reacted, betraying her determination not to fall into old habits. Anticipation skated over her skin, heightening her senses. She struggled to push the growing lust aside, and failed, but she wouldn’t let him see that. Couldn’t. No matter how much a part of her wanted to cave. “It is what it is. I’m going to be more direct this time and hope you don’t brush me off with pretty words. What do you know that I don’t? Why is it okay for us to cross the line now?”

  His smug expression cracked, and he let out a shaky breath. “There are days I wish I’d turned down the college money and gone into teaching instead. You want me to be blunt. That’s as honest as I know how to be. I want to put everything—our identities, our jobs, our hang-ups—on the shelf for the night. Shove them in a back corner, as if they don’t exist. Because fuck if I can’t stop thinking about who we were without all that hanging over our heads.”

  The force behind his words tingled in her toes and fingers and everywhere in between. Her brain hammered and knocked on her skull, warning her to put a stop to this before it went any further. The rest of her body insisted on hearing him out. “You make it sound easy.”

  He traced a line up her shin with his foot, and tingles of desire raced through her. “That bit is.” His voice was low but firm.

  Walk away or see this through? Back then, she’d walked away, to make sure she didn’t lose herself in him. It had been too tempting to give him the same control outside the bedroom that she surrendered in it. But she’d grown since then. “Prove it.” She knew herself, she knew what she wanted, and damn it, she missed the way he knew her body.

  “I’d be happy to.” He stood and extended his hand.

  She slipped her fingers into his, and allowed herself to be led. Her hammering pulse beat in time to the back and forth in her skull, arguing against the part of her she usually suppressed, which wanted to take things further.

  They stepped outside, and he nudged her toward an empty alley, out of the light and line of sight. When he pressed her against a nearby wall, her world shifted, and anticipation seared her veins. His warm breath caressed her ear, his voice low enough only she would hear it. “Three ground rules before we cross this line. First, when we walk into my hotel room, we leave our names and lives at the door. This is not related to work or anything outside of that room. We left those people at the office.”

  “All right.” At least every part of her agreed with that. She buried the twinge that ached from behind her ribcage at her own dismissal.

  He tightened his grip on her fingers, but despite how close he stood, he made no other contact. “Second, I’m in control, and you trust me.”

  Her mouth went dry, and agreement lodged in her throat. She knew that would be a requirement, and she did trust him. Then why was it so difficult to agree?

  He stepped back. The air rushed in around them, but it didn’t cool her fiery skin. His reply bled into the background noise. “Or we call it a night now, and forget this conversation ever happened.”

  “I trust you.” The words slid out with far more certainty than she felt.

  His smile wasn’t lighthearted this time. It sank into her bones and left her feeling like she’d sold her soul in exchange for the most delicious punishment that existed. “Third, you stop me the moment you stop trusting me. You know the word. It’s seared in my brain, too.” Currents of heat lined his voice.

  It sounded like a simple request, but something told her it wouldn’t be nearly that easy. “Agreed.”

  Chapter Nine

  VIVIAN REQUESTED ONE more concession, as they left the restaurant—that they go back to her place instead of his hotel room. There was a far smaller chance of anyone they knew seeing them, and her condo had amazing soundproofing. The half-hour drive, in separate cars, gnawed at every part of her. She squirmed in her seat, she second-guessed her decision, and she craved his touch like she hadn’t in over a decade.

  Now, with him standing behind her, just inside the front door, her pulse threatened to tear away. She kicked her sandals aside, and for the first time in ages, hesitation robbed her of any inkling of what to do next.

  “Don’t stop now.” Damon rested his hands on her hips, and his breath fell across the back of her neck. “Love your place, by the way.”

  “I’ll give you a tour later, if you’d like.” What was she saying? This wasn’t asocial visit.

  He nudged her forward. “I think we should start by checking out that spot over there, between the back of the sofa and the balcony.” She let him guide her, stopping when he tugged her belt loops. “Don’t move.” He pressed his chest against her back and glided his palms under her shirt, to settle on her stomach. Each new touch—soft, gentle, and without hesitation—flitted across her skin in a teasing dance.

  He swept her hair over her shoulder, and she tilted her head to the side, to expose her neck. He trailed his mouth up the slope, barely making contact, drawing her anticipation closer to the surface. “You need to be naked.” As he spoke, he yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. His suit and its buttons dug into her bare back. He trailed his fingers over her shoulders, hooked them in her bra straps, and dragged them down her arms, before unsnapping the clasp and throwing the lingerie aside as well.

  Her nipples were already hard and eager. The warm air brushed her torso and a new wave of desire unfurled in her belly. He dropped his hands to her jeans and undid the button and zipper in an instant, and then scraped the remainder of her clothes down her legs. She stepped out when prompted. An ache spread between her thighs, reminding her how exposed she was.

  Damon moved in front of her, still completely dressed, and raked his gaze over her. “So beautiful.” His voice was strained. He shed his jacket and draped it over the back of a nearby chair. The fire of his attention lit along her arms, her stomach, her breasts—everywhere he looked. A small portion of her mind told her she shouldn’t be on display like this. The wrongness increased her desire. She wanted to be, but only for him. She resisted the urge to draw an arm over her chest or cover herself.

  “I never forgot how gorgeous you are naked.” He rolled up his shirt sleeves. When he loosened his tie, instinct and memories cranked her pulse higher, until it pounded against her throat and ears. “I’m tempted to shove you up against the couch right now, and fuck you until you scream.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, tempted to argue. Fast
and frantic was fine sometimes, but it wasn’t what she wanted tonight, and she wouldn’t be impressed if that was his intention. “Whatever you think is best.”

  He smirked and shook his head. “At least say it like you mean it.”

  She shrugged. “Make me mean it.”

  “I will.” When he removed his tie, the breath caught in her throat.

  He relocated behind her, not touching her. She started to turn her head, to see where he’d gone, and his palm collided with her ass. The slap sent a pleasant sting through her, and she sucked in sharply through her teeth.

  “I said, don’t move.” His voice was closer than she expected. He fitted something over her eyes, blocking the world from view. Given the width and the way it tightened around her head, she assumed it was his necktie. Her heart hammered at the loss of one sense, and the rest of her kicked into high alert. She heard nothing but her own breathing, the blood rushing in her ears, and the city outside.

  She could smell him, though. The faint aftershave. The same scent she remembered, all these years later, that promised more.

  “Top floor condo.” His voice was distinct, but she couldn’t feel him. “Living above most of the other buildings in the city, with a gorgeous view through that picture window. The one with the blinds open. I’m curious what you do out on that balcony.”

  A lot of things.

  He spanked her again, the loud slap echoing through the room. The sting lingered longer on her skin this time. “I’m not asking me. I’m asking you. What do you do out there?”

  “Watch the city. Get some sun. Enjoy being removed from all the insanity, even though I’m right in the middle of it.”

  “That’s it?”

  She thought about holding back the answer, but telling him about it was as enticing as being spanked. “Sometimes, I’ll go out there to sunbathe in a two-piece. I’ll strip my top off, to avoid tan lines, of course.”

  “Of course.” He didn’t sound as if he believed her for a second.

  She didn’t know what made her wetter, remembering the moment, or telling him aloud. “I’ll rub the lotion over my breasts, spending longer than I need to, then slide my fingers between my legs. I stroke myself, wondering if anyone can see me. If anyone is watching, until I come.”

  He glided his palm over her butt, barely making contact with the still-tender skin, and slipped a finger between her legs. “So you’re turned on by the idea someone might look over here and see you naked, blindfolded, and helpless.”

  “Maybe.”

  He slapped her—the other cheek this time. “Yes or no?”

  “Yes.”

  He pressed his chest to her back again and kissed along her shoulder. “I feel your heart pounding. Slamming inside you like a jackhammer. Did you miss this?”

  “Desperately.” As the word flowed over her lips, she realized how true it was. She’d tried this with a few other guys. Nothing this intense, just being tied up, and a little spanking. Something about the way Damon knew her, though...

  He pulled away again, leaving her body alone and begging for another touch. Any touch. “Naughty, raunchy girl. What would your colleagues think if they knew what you really liked, Viv?”

  “You said we’d leave work out of this.” The nickname and mention of reality did more to freeze her veins than all of her logic and rationale combined. It summoned a part of her she’d locked away and refused to admit existed, except on those nights where she was alone and drunk. Tonight she was neither, and didn’t need those ideas in her head. She couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. “And don’t call me that.”

  “Why shouldn’t I call you...? Holy shit. That’s what Tippins calls you. You two? Really?”

  She swallowed all thoughts of Jared, shoving them deep inside. Her palms ached, and she realized she was clenching her fists hard enough for her nails to dig into the skin. “Of course not.”

  “Don’t lie to me.” He spanked her again, hard and fast, pulling away before the sound finished reverberating in the room. There was no anger or jealousy in his voice. The gesture and words were all part of the game. “You were fucking Tippins.”

  “It wasn’t like that, and it was years ago.”

  His breath danced over her skin. “What did you see in a guy like that?”

  Kinship. She swallowed the answer. “He made me laugh.”

  Another slap, another tremor of pleasure and pain. “Clever. And bullshit.” Damon’s voice was cool. “Before or after Karen?”

  Karen had been Jared’s first love. The woman who used him, to get inside information on Skriddie, and sold it back to NSS. “How did you—?”

  The palm of his hand meeting her ass at high speed cut her off. “My questions, my game. And Hayden talks. Before or after?”

  “After.”

  “So his gorgeous blonde coworker helped him pick up the pieces of a shattered heart and build a wall around them until... Foster, too?”

  As if. Until recently, she and Tate were rarely even on the same page, let alone fuck buddies. “I’m not some sort of vicious corporate ice queen, screwing any man who gets in my path. Jared and I had that kind of connection, Tate and I don’t. Besides, he’s never not had eyes for Alyssia.”

  Damon slapped her again. “That was just because.”

  The skin started to numb, but the sting sent endorphins racing through her. She wouldn’t be able to keep up a conversation much longer. “Whatever you think is best, Sir.”

  He caressed her ass, then slipped two fingers between her legs. Inside her. She gasped at the tender penetration, wanting to beg for more. Instead, a whimper slipped out when he pulled away again.

  And he was gone. Seconds ticked away into minutes and hours. Or that was her mind exaggerating time, because she couldn’t see. When lips brushed her nipple, she groaned at the unexpected touch. He flicked his tongue over the hard nub, and then drew it into his mouth and scraped his teeth over it. Each time he sucked or nibbled, it tugged a cord that traveled straight to the insistent need between her legs, making her clit throb.

  He alternated his attention between the two breasts, until her gasps grew so shallow, her head felt light. The lack of visual input made her tilt on her feet, and he dropped his hands to her hips to steady her. “Careful.”

  When he pulled away, it was only for a second. He kissed a lazy, meandering path down her chest and stomach, along her pelvis and over her thighs. He nudged her feet apart, and she complied. She thrust against his face—she couldn’t help it—when he glided his tongue along her slit.

  “You taste delicious.” His voice was muffled. He plunged deeper, thrusting inside her, licking her opening. She had to tangle her fingers in his hair, to stay upright. When he drew a path to her clit and finally wrapped his mouth around it, her legs threatened to give out. He didn’t suck hard, though. He flicked light patterns, teasing, taunting, coaxing her aching button out.

  He hooked a finger inside her. When he hit her G-spot, her world tilted. The multiple points of contact tore an orgasm from her, and the light touch prolonged the exquisite agony. She screamed as she came, pushing against his face, not sure how much longer she could stand on her own.

  He finally pulled away, and she wobbled on her feet. She didn’t need to worry about stability, though. He crushed his mouth to hers, hungry and hard, tasting like her. She dove into the kiss, needing it as much as any of this.

  He broke away with a growl and nudged her back, never removing her blindfold. His voice was breathless and deep. “Now I push you back against the couch and fuck you, until you scream so loud, you’re hoarse.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She let him half-push, half-lift her, until her butt rested on the sofa.

  The sound of a zipper dragging down was the loudest thing in the room, and her senses flared to life again. The noise was followed by the tear of foil. A condom. She licked her lips. Her legs were forced apart, and she had less than a second’s warning—the blunt head of his cock nudging her opening—before he t
hrust inside with a grunt.

  She wrapped her legs around him, whimpering each time he slammed against her.

  He bit into her shoulder. “You’re so tight. I’d forgotten how incredible you feel.” Something, his thumb probably, pressed against her still tender clit and ground in time with his pounding. The gentle teasing was gone. This was frantic and full of need, and she sank into the desperation. Part of her was aware of the familiar sound of him nearing climax. The punctuated groans. The staccato rhythm. She struggled to focus on anything but the orgasm rolling through her. Clenching around him. Making her thoughts fuzz. Stealing her breath and the last of her reason. She dug her nails into his back when she came again, holding him inside her with her legs. Squeezing him.

  He hissed, gripping her waist tight and pumping until they were both breathless.

  She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, unable to do anything but sigh and struggle for air. He kissed along the edge of her ear. “So fucking incredible.” His voice was raw.

  He loosened the tie and stripped it from her eyes. The dim lighting of the living room was harsh, and she blinked several times before her sight adjusted. He brushed his lips over hers, and then pulled back to study her. “You okay?”

  “Better than.” She tried to hop from the couch, but couldn’t find her balance.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist, to steady her. “Come on.” He guided her toward the open door of her bedroom.

  She hesitated at the edge of the bed, suddenly shy, as if she were twenty again. “You’re staying, right?”

  His expression relaxed. “Unless you kick me out.”

  “Good.” She needed the ritual. After a session like that, her body ached for a different kind of comfort. She helped him strip out of his clothes, waited for him to get settled, then climbed into bed and curled up next to him.

  Neither of them spoke for... she didn’t know how long. He trailed his fingers through her hair, and she listened to his heart beat against her ear.

  When the adrenaline faded, and the euphoria was nothing more than a sheen on her skin, she dragged up the words that had been sitting at the back of her mind since Damon brought it up. “It’s not that I’m still hung up on him, you know.”