Tied with Me (With Me in Seattle, #6)(51)

“Please!” she cries. “I can’t stand it.”

Tears are running down her face, her arms thrown over her head and gripping the back of the chair. I would normally drag this out, make her beg for the chance to come, but her tears are my undoing. The point has been made, and I just need to give her what she wants and what I need more than breathing.

I push my shorts down my hips, tug my shirt over my head and fling it aside, then push inside her, hard, buried balls-deep. I cover her with my body, gripping the chair for leverage, and f*ck her in long, slow strokes.

“I was so frustrated with you today,” I murmur and kiss her cheek. “You deserved this, to feel this frustration. If I ever find out that you’ve kept something like this from me again, it’ll be the same punishment.”

She wraps her arms around me and holds me close, buries her face in my neck.

“Please,” she whispers. “Oh God, Matt.”

I pull up off of her so I can watch us, my cock moving in and out of her wet heat, her lips swollen and pink around my dick and our bodies sweaty.

She’s gripping me like a vice, and I feel the tension begin low in my belly, and I know I’m about to come. I cover her clit with my thumb and watch as she comes apart, legs shaking, muscles pulled tight, and squeezing me with all she’s worth.

I cry out her name as I come with her, pushed to the hilt and grinding against her core, giving her everything I’ve got.

I collapse onto her torso for several minutes, concentrating on breathing in and out. Her fingers in my hair remind me that I need to untie her. I undo the knots and massage her knees and hips, then lift her in my arms and settle us both in her soft bed.

“I’m sorry for today, and that I didn’t tell you before,” she finally whispers against my chest.

I glide my fingertips down her back, deep in thought. I love her so much. If anything were to happen to her, it would destroy me.

“No more secrets,” I whisper.

“No more secrets.”

***

“You don’t have to come to work with me today,” Nic assures me for the third time while she pulls freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven.

“Watch out, I’ll think you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“You know that’s not true.” She shakes her head at me as she sets the hot cakes on a wire rack to cool. “But it’s your last day off, and you should enjoy it. I only have to work until one. It’s Sunday.”

“And you’re here alone.”

“Trust me, I worked many Sundays alone before you came along, Detective Montgomery.”

“Yes, but now you don’t have to,” I remind her softly and pull her into my arms to kiss her silly.

She melts against me and wraps her arms around my neck, clinging to me, her mouth pliant and more than willing.

“Do I have to put you on the payroll?” she asks breathlessly when I let her up.

“Hmm.” I shift my head from side to side as though I’m giving it a great deal of thought. “I guess you can pay me in sexual favors.”

“Oh really.” She laughs and begins frosting another batch of cakes.

“Or just go with me to Will and Meg’s party next weekend.”

“You don’t have to do me favors to get me to hang out with you and your family.”

“Okay, sexual favors then.”

She laughs, a full-out belly laugh, and my gut clenches. I love the sound of her laughter and the way her eyes shine with happiness.

“You’re gorgeous,” I whisper.

Her smile fades slowly, replaced by pure lust.

“I’m glad you think so.” Her voice is soft and a bit shaky. I love catching her unaware and tilting her off balance.

“What can I do to help?”

“Here, frost these.” She shows me how to apply the frosting in a swirly fashion on top of the cake and leaves me to my task.

“These smell great,” I murmur. “What kind are they?”

“White chocolate raspberry.”

“Can I order a dozen of these for tomorrow?” She glances at me in surprise. “I’ll take them in to work.”

“Sure.” She smiles widely and then turns back to the job at hand.

“So did you have fun yesterday?”

“I did. Your family is hilarious.”

“They do keep things interesting,” I agree proudly. “We’re close.”

“I can tell. You all care deeply for one another.”

“Yes,” I reply simply.

“It was fun. They’re nice people.”

“You fit in well,” I comment casually.

She pauses and then carries on as though men tell her every day that they enjoy seeing her with those they love the most.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Is something wrong?” I ask.

“Nope,” she replies with a fake smile. “As soon as you’re done there, we’ll open.”

“Talk to me.”

“I’m fine,” she insists. “I’m going to go unlock the door.”

She hurries out, leaving me dumbfounded. What did I say?

Women and their hormones.

***

A few hours, and several dozen customers, later, the bell dings above the door as Caleb saunters into Succulent Sweets, carrying a brown paper sack.