Page 175 of Dirty Rival
Chapter eighty-six
Carrie
Reid leans against the front door of our apartment, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest, his piercing blue eyes fixed on my face, demand and a dark, edgy energy radiating from him. The demand is familiar but the energy is not, it’s that part of him he hides beneath the arrogant asshole. That part of him he doesn’t want to exist, but tonight it does. That part of him I think he needs me to accept and even embrace.
I stand a foot in front of him and peel away my jacket, tossing it to the floor. I then pull my silk camisole over my head and do the same with it. “I trust you,” I say.
“Taking your jacket off doesn’t prove trust.”
“You want more,” I say and I’m not talking about my clothes and he knows it.
“I always want more, Carrie.”
A pebble of concern forms in my belly. “What happens when I have nothing more to give?”
“Then I’ll have all of you, but I don’t right now.”
“You do. No one has ever had all of me but you.”
His eyes darken and I swear they harden. “Undress, Carrie, then walk to the bedroom and wait for me.”
I inhale and let air trickle from my lips. I don’t know why I’m hesitating. I’m going to do everything and anything he wants me to do and like it. My nipples are hard. My thighs are slick. I want this. I want him. I just wish I knew what set him off because it wasn’t just that night in college. I kick off my shoes and unzip my skirt, letting it slide down my hips and pool on the floor. I kick it away and now I’m in nothing but my bra, panties, and thigh highs.
Reid’s eyes stay on my face when they would normally travel my body. “All of it. Even the thigh highs. I want my mouth wherever I so please with nothing in the way.”
Apparently, my body anticipates where his mouth might be soon because my nipples tighten all over again and my sex clenches but I don’t back down. I unhook my bra, drag my panties down, kick them away, and then roll down my thigh highs. He doesn’t move, but his gaze rakes over my body, a slow, lingering inspection before he pushes off the wall, and yes, please, touch me, fuck me, do it right here and now.
He stops in front of me but he doesn’t touch me. I want him to touch me. “There are rules tonight,” he says. “My rules.”
“What rules?”
“You touch me when I tell you to touch me. I touch you when I decide it’s the right time to touch you. You do what I say. If you want to stop, you say stop, but mean it, because I will stop.”
“Am I going to want to say stop?”
“What do you think?” he challenges.
He’s testing me, pushing me just like I knew he would, and perhaps some part of him wants me to fail. I won’t fail and he won’t either which I think is really more the point. His failure in the past. His fear he’ll fail to protect me. My eyes meet his and I let him see my confidence in my words as I say, “No. I’m not going to want to stop.”
He walks around me, stopping behind me, his lips warm on my neck, at my ear, goosebumps lifting on my skin, all over my body, which is where I want his hands and his mouth. “Do you want me to touch you now?”
“Yes. Very much.”
“Then go to the bedroom. Wait for me.”
“How long do you plan to make me wait?”
“As long as I want to make you wait,” he counters.
“And if I don’t go?” I challenge.
“I’ll spank you and we’ll go to bed without fucking.”
“You wouldn’t,” I say, rotating to face him and when my hands would land on his chest, he catches my wrists. “Rules, Carrie. As for the spanking, try me, baby.”
I inhale at a promise that shouldn’t turn me on, not in the manner he’s described it, but it does, but then, his hand on my backside has never been anything but erotic. The fucking that follows nothing but pleasure. He releases me and steps aside, giving me room to pass, to follow his orders. I lift my chin and walk past him, aware of his hot stare on my naked body. I enter the bedroom and I don’t turn on the light. I walk to the bed and sit down on the edge of the mattress.
Seconds tick by and turn to minutes. I sit. I wait. I’m naked and aching and in need of my man, who isn’t here. And that’s the idea. For me to want and need and anticipate what he will do to me. He finally appears in the doorway, a shadowy silhouette in the center of the darkness. I think he might leave us in the darkness, but he doesn’t. He turns the knob controlling the lights to dim them, casting the room in a haze of shadows, but now I can see that his shirt and shoes are gone.