Tycoon Takedown Page 6

  She reached for the front of his shirt, but he broke off the kiss long enough to growl into her ear. “No.”

  She didn’t question his command. His touch was all that mattered. He took her mouth again and thrust a second finger inside her. His expert rhythm made all thought impossible.

  When he broke off the kiss, she was spiraling toward an orgasm, and still his mouth relentlessly claimed her body. Each time she thought she could take no more, he discovered a new equally sensitive spot. She threw back her head and exposed her neck more fully to him, loving how he began alternating hot kisses with light nips. His warm breath teased her ear before he kissed his way to it. He growled, “You’re so tight. So wet.”

  It felt wrong and so right at the same time.

  Melanie clenched her muscles around his thrusting fingers with a rhythm that increased her own pleasure. She moaned, then cried out his name again when his mouth returned to her breasts. Sucking. Nipping. Tugging on her nipples in a way that shot waves of heat through her.

  Once again her hands sought the front of his shirt, but his fingers stilled and he raised his head and said, “Let yourself enjoy it, Melanie.”

  She did and was rewarded by his thumb once again circling her clit slowly, forcefully. He brought his other hand around and licked his thumb before rubbing it back and forth across her puckered nipple. Her position left her arched and bare from the waist up before him. Melanie gasped and shifted against his other hand, welcoming his fingers deeper inside her. She held his eyes because he silently commanded her to.

  Heat spread up her chest and through her stomach. She gave herself to the orgasm and to him in the same cry of submission. He increased the pace of his thrusting fingers as he pinched her nipple, sending a sting of pain that only increased the intensity of her pleasure. She cried out again, helplessly jerking against his hand as her orgasm consumed her.

  He withdrew his hand from the front of her jeans and brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked her juices off, then said, “You taste better than I imagined. I am going to spread you open and feast on every part of you tonight.” He took her hand and placed it on the bulge in his pants. “And then, and only then, I want that sweet mouth on my cock. I want that glorious hair on my thighs as I come.”

  Melanie shivered and brought her arms around to cover the front of her. He took her hands in his and brought them to her sides, exposing her again. “You’re too beautiful to hide, Melanie.” He looked out the window and groaned. “Although, you should cover up while we walk into my building.” He released her and handed her shirt to her, but tucked her bra into his jacket pocket.

  Melanie shrugged into her blouse and straightened her jeans, then went to move off his lap, but he held her there with a hand on either hip. Desire for her burned in those dark blue eyes, giving her courage to lay a hand on his chest. His heart was beating wildly. She moved a tentative hand down his stomach, but he took it in one of his and held it captive against the outside of his thigh. “Not here,” he said and instead slid her off his lap and brought her beneath his arm, against his side.

  A part of her wanted to protest, but being in his arms, especially in the aftermath of a climax, was heaven. Tucked against him as she was, she felt safe and treasured. Even if their connection was temporary, it was what her life lacked—and no amount of common sense could have pulled her away from him in that moment.

  A short time later, in what felt like a dream sequence, he escorted her from the limo in the parking garage to the elevator. She would have been hard-pressed to describe either later. He used a key in the elevator to unlock the penthouse floor. The air sizzled as they rode toward it without speaking. He led her through a large foyer, a hallway she didn’t spare a glance at, and into his bedroom.

  They stood at the foot of his pristine gray king-size bed looking at each other without speaking, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing. Very softly, he said, “Strip for me.”

  She hesitated. He had given nothing of himself. Without her clothing, she would be exposed and vulnerable before him again. She wasn’t ready for that.

  He held her eyes. Instead of reaching for her as she expected, he waited, eyes burning with desire for her. “Take off your shirt.”

  There was something in his soft command she couldn’t resist. She wasn’t one who followed direction without question, but when he looked at her, she wanted to go wherever he would take her. Unlike how she’d felt for years, here she felt free. Not looking away from him, she unbuttoned her shirt and dropped it to the floor.

  “Now the rest.” She did as he ordered and as each article of clothing hit the floor, her confidence grew. Not needing further coaxing, she slid off her boots, pants, and underwear and stood naked and proud before him. He didn’t touch her, but she felt his hot gaze on her breasts, and her nipples puckered in anticipation of his mouth returning to them.

  He wants me as much I as I want him. The thought was empowering. He might have thought he was in control, but she arched one shoulder and reveled in how his nostrils flared and a flush darkened his cheeks.

  He stepped toward her and ran the back of one hand across her collarbone, down the curve of one of her breasts, and along her flat stomach until he cupped her sex.

  “So beautiful,” he said softly. He took her face in his other hand and forced her to meet his gaze.

  In that moment, beneath his gaze, Melanie felt beautiful.

  “Where do you want my mouth first?” he whispered in her ear. “Show me.” He took one of her hands in his and guided it to her wet slit, thrusting one of her own fingers inside herself, then bringing her finger to his lips to kiss it. “Would you like me to start there?” He took her finger deep inside his mouth and suckled it. “That’s where I want to start, but I’ll let you decide.”

  Melanie couldn’t speak, she was so hypnotized by her need for him. He ran her hand across her own breast. “Touch where you want my mouth. Show me, Melanie. Show me what you want.”

  Melanie brought her hand up to her lips and boldly circled her finger with her own tongue, testing his response. He hauled her to him and claimed her mouth, thrusting between her lips and seeking out the tongue she’d teased him with. He drew her into his mouth and they met with a frenzy Melanie had never before experienced. She was outside herself, lost to the sensations he elicited in her, a slave to her own desire.

  Then he stopped.

  And looked down into her eyes.

  She touched the spot just below her right ear and gasped when his mouth followed her command. Everything she’d experienced earlier was repeated, but this time with a sense that she’d requested it and he was delivering in spades. There was a heady power in knowing she was guiding their coupling.

  And it made her bolder.

  She brought his hand to her mouth, licked it, and placed it on her left breast. Once again she experienced the wet delight of him circling, then sucking. He laved one of her breasts so thoroughly she thought she’d come again, then moved on to the other and Melanie was reduced to whimpering.

  He stopped again and raised his head. She swallowed hard and turned before him, moving her hair to the side and exposing her back to him. He groaned and ran his hand from her shoulder down the length of her and rubbed between her buttocks. He kissed the back of her neck, then down her spine, and nipped one of her ass cheeks. Melanie shook from the sensations coursing through her.

  Right or wrong, it felt too good to stop.

  He spun her unexpectedly and pushed her backward until her legs hit the side of the bed and she sank down into it. Then, without waiting for further instruction, he pulled her forward so she was sitting on the very edge and, still fully dressed, knelt before her. With a hand on either of her knees, he spread her wide for him and smiled in a predatory fashion that made Melanie’s heart thud loudly in her chest.

  He ran one finger over the outer edge of her half-closed lower lips. “I can’t get enough of you.” His hot breath warmed her inner thighs. Wi
th two strong fingers, he separated her outer folds and blew on her clit. Melanie’s hands tightened on the bedcovers beneath her. His tongue, which had danced within her mouth, now ran the length of her bottom lovingly. Wetting. Tasting. Claiming.

  Lost in the feel of him lapping her, circling her, thrusting his thick wet tongue inside of her again and again, Melanie dropped back on the bed and once again gave herself over to the experience. Her head rolled back and forth helplessly as she writhed against his mouth.

  He blew on her exposed clit again and Melanie shuddered. His other hand ran up her stomach and roughly massaged her breast. His breathing became harsher. He thrust his tongue deeply into her as his hand on her waist tightened painfully, but it was a pain she welcomed.

  He pulled back and the cold air of the room was its own brash caress. He alternated circling her clit with his tongue with deep, bold thrusts that left her breathless and begging for release.

  When she was nearing orgasm for the second time that day, he stood and shed his clothing, pausing only to sheathe himself with a condom before lifting up her hips, holding her legs on either side of him, leaving her draped down against the bed before him.

  His first thrust was deep and sure. Melanie’s body strained to accept the size of him as he pounded into her. She moved back and forth with him, unable to reach him with her hands. He controlled their rhythm and their connection.

  She gave herself completely over to his control with a level of passion she’d never dreamed possible. In that moment, she was his to do with as he wished. It didn’t make sense to her, but it didn’t have to. Not while her body quivered and clamored for him to drive himself deeper into her.

  And he did. His powerful thrusts pounded her again and again until he came with an animallike cry. She joined him, coming with her own shuddering cry and collapsing in the aftermath of it.

  He withdrew and walked across the room to clean himself off. When he didn’t immediately join her on the bed, she moved farther onto the mattress and pulled her legs up, wrapping the sheet around her. No. No. No. The past circled like a vulture she was powerless to fend off. He’s not Todd and I’m not an insecure young girl who needs to know he’ll call me tomorrow.

  Still, the passionate man from a moment before was gone and in his place was a composed stranger she couldn’t read. His withdrawal after the intimacy was devastating.

  He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, then closed it again and frowned. She hugged the sheet closer to her. All you have to do, Charles, is crawl back into this bed and hold me. Just let me lay in your arms and have a few hours of believing you care about me.

  A few hours of not feeling so utterly alone.

  She hated the tears that clouded her vision and hated him for not giving her what she couldn’t ask for. For making her feel even lonelier than she had when she’d landed in this godforsaken city. He just stood there frowning down at her, clearly regretting what they’d done and seeking the words to tell her.

  Shame nipped at her.

  If I don’t die from the mortification of this, I swear I’m done with men.

  And that starts with you, Charles Dery.

  Charles stood frozen in the middle of the room, watching Melanie get more upset, and feeling like more and more of an ass with each passing minute. This was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. Yes, he’d wanted her, but not like this.

  She was waiting for him to speak, but he was running internal damage control. Everything he’d imagined saying no longer fit the situation now that he’d seen tears welling in her eyes. He’d rushed her and he hadn’t intended to.

  He’d planned a nice dinner, followed by a recommendation that they spend time together that week. He’d imagined all the delicious ways he could persuade her to give in to him, but he’d resolved to talk to her first. She needed to know he couldn’t offer her anything long-term.

  If she agreed to his terms, then and only then, would he have had her.

  Now she was curled up defensively on his bed, and he was furious with himself. He stepped into his trousers and frowned as he sought what to say to her. “Melanie, I’m sorry . . .” He realized it was a poor choice of words when angry fire shot from her eyes.

  She hopped up and, still holding a sheet protectively around herself, wordlessly gathered her clothing. He took a step toward her, then stopped when she glared up at him. In a heartbeat she was dressed and stomping her feet into her boots.

  He reached for her but she evaded him. “Don’t touch me.”

  The pain in her eyes tore at him. “Melanie . . .”

  She didn’t say anything else, just looked around the room for her purse impatiently. When she spotted it, she swung it over her shoulder and started heading for the door. Still bare-chested, he blocked her way. Somehow he had to make her see that he wasn’t rejecting her. “Don’t go. We need to talk. I want—”

  She pushed at him angrily. “Do you know what I want?” she growled.

  He shook his head.

  “I want this goddamned day to be over. I want you to stay the hell away from me while I try to forget this ever happened. Can you do that for me?”

  Guilt rushed in, the only force strong enough to stop him from grabbing her and forcing her to listen to him. The anguish in her eyes was real and so was the remorse he felt. When she looked up at him with her heart in her eyes, even his ability to articulate how he felt left him. He didn’t want her to go, but he wasn’t ready to ask her to stay.

  The door of his apartment slammed behind her as she left.

  Charles strode into the living room and punched the wall beside the door she’d walked through.

  I’m as fucked up as Mason says I am.

  She’s better off without me.

  Chapter Six

  “Hello, is Todd Jones available?” Melanie asked into her phone as she sat at the small desk in her hotel room.

  “This is Todd.”

  “Did you attend Baylor University?”

  The line went dead. Melanie calmly checked off the correct column on her growing list. Originally there had been only two columns: “Yes” and “No.” Ten men into her list of Todds to call, she’d added a new option: “Unable to determine.”

  Calling Todd’s parents would have been the more efficient route, but last night with Charles had reminded her of the perils of being spontaneous. I will do this the right way. I’ll find him, watch him, then make an educated decision about how to move forward before I tell anyone anything.

  Memories from the night before still stung her pride.

  I’ll survive. I’m a big girl.

  I’m not the first woman to have a one-night stand with a man I shouldn’t have and I’m sure I won’t be the last.

  Melanie called the next Todd on her list. A man answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

  “Hello, I’m looking for Todd Jones.”

  “You got him.”

  Taking a deep breath, Melanie asked, “Is there any chance that you attended Baylor in Waco, Texas?”

  After a moment of consideration, the man answered, “Why do you want to know?”

  Because I may have slept with you? Because you may have a son who wants to meet you? Because after last night I deserve to ask every Todd in New York if he’s the man I had sex with in college. Maybe then I’ll remember why I’m here and what’s really important. “I’m hoping to connect with an old friend.”

  “And you think I’m him?”

  Melanie closed her eyes and rubbed an eyebrow in frustration. “You could be.”

  “Piece of advice? Forget the guy. If you don’t remember his voice, he didn’t mean that much to you.”

  “I wish it were that simple,” Melanie said sadly.

  The man on the other side of the line sighed. “I’d love to help you, but I’ve never been to Texas. I hope you find him.”

  Emotion tightened Melanie’s throat. “Thank you.”

  She opened her eyes, hung up the phone, and put a check
in the “No” column.

  Only sixty Todds to go.

  Squaring her shoulders, she called the next number.

  “Hello?” a woman answered.

  “I’m looking for Todd Jones.”

  “Who is this?”

  “A friend?” Melanie said awkwardly.

  “I’m going to kill him! He said he was done cheating. I can put up with the drinking if he’s faithful, but he can’t keep it in his pants, can he? My friends told me to leave him, but did I take their advice? No. I believed him—”

  “Wait, you don’t understand.”

  “Oh trust me, I understand perfectly. He told you he was divorced right? Or dying? Or is he making up some new story for this round? Maybe this time I’m dead?”

  “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

  “You did me a favor. Believe me—”

  “No, listen, even if your Todd is the one I’m looking for, I haven’t seen him in years.”

  “Then you’re the lucky one,” the woman said and hung up.

  Well, that went well.

  Melanie studied her list and added a new column—“HELL NO, even if it is him”—and put a check beneath it. That was one Todd Jones who would never meet Jace.

  With a tired stretch, Melanie stood and walked to the window of her hotel room. The way the trip was going, Todd probably lived in Alaska now . . . or Australia.

  She should have taken the money Sarah offered and hired a private detective.

  What am I going to do if I find him? Follow him around the city until I’m convinced he’s not dangerous?

  Melanie took two papers out of her back pocket. She threw Charles’s card in the trash and looked at the other one. Todd’s parents. A quick glance at the clock revealed she would once again be calling them in the middle of the night.

  Another wasted day.

  Glad I don’t keep a journal. I don’t need written proof to see a pattern.

  Everyone is gifted in something. I’m an exceptional procrastinator when it comes to facing something I don’t want to.

  Melanie took out her cell phone and called Sarah for a video chat. A picture of Sarah became live feed of the smiling blonde woman.