She was mad, too. She didn’t want to play this game right now. It had gone far enough.
She tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m going to go. Good night.”
She stood up, and walked out quickly, pushing on the door that led out of the auditorium and into the quiet hallway.
In seconds, he’d followed her, catching up to her. Only an usher at the far end of the hallway noticed them.
“Michelle,” he said, grasping for her wrist. “Are you okay?”
“No,” she said, not bothering to mask it or hide it. “I’m not okay.”
“What’s wrong?” His brow furrowed, the look in his eyes one of confusion.
She parked her hands on her hips. “Sometimes games work, and sometimes they don’t. It didn’t this time.” She held up a hand. “Don’t turn it on again.”
“I won’t,” he said, like a boy scolded.
She stepped closer, speaking in a low voice for only him. They’d had their picture in the paper. She didn’t need anyone to hear this conversation. “You know I love what you do to me. But you took it too far in there.”
“Because it’s public?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because I wanted you to finish,” she seethed. “I don’t care if that makes me petty or foolish or stupid. I don’t care if that makes me greedy. I didn’t want to play. And then you stopped, and I was just squirming in my fucking seat. You were wrapped up in the music, and it was like you’d forgotten what you’d done to me. And I’m sorry if I sound like a selfish horny bitch for wanting you to have finished me. But that’s what I wanted.”
The corner of his lips quirked up for a second, but then he stopped, adopting a serious look when she narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought it was all part of the fun we were having,” he said.
“It is fun. To a point. And then it stops being fun when you don’t even realize the effect you have on me. Physically. Mentally. Every way. You asked me if I could wait, and I said no. I was completely honest with you, and you just toyed with me,” she said through gritted teeth, grabbing his tie, pulling him close. “Don’t you get it? You turn me on and you build me up and you control me and I let you. Because I love it, too. Because I love what you do to me. But sometimes I don’t want to be toyed with. I want to be taken care of. Even if it’s in the symphony.”
His chest rose and fell. He breathed out hard. He didn’t speak. Maybe she’d gone too far. But she was okay with that. She knew how to live alone. To survive alone. If she lost Jack because of this, then she’d be fine with it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Fall Apart
He was certain.
He’d never been more stripped bare or turned on in his life. He’d never had a woman call him on something like this, and forcefully tell him to not toy with her. To be blunt and direct and to say make me come. Maybe he had pushed it. Maybe he’d gone too far with the game. He was going to go all the way right now.
He grabbed her and crushed her mouth to his, and she resisted at first, pushing her fists into his chest, trying to shove him away. But he wasn’t going to let her go. He kissed her harder until she gave in, melding into him, her lips fused with his, their bodies sealed tight. Kissing in a mad frenzy of anger and frustration until he pulled apart. “Screw Brahms. I need to take care of you right now.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were at his building. They were grappling at clothes in the elevator. His shirt was unbuttoned, untucked, and his tie was simply gone. Hell, maybe it was on the floor of the elevator. Maybe it was in the cab. He didn’t care. Her dress was at her waist, and he yanked down her panties, then ripped off the butterfly. He’d already fingered her to orgasm in the cab. He owed her so much more.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered harshly. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you come. I need to make you come all night to make up for it.”
“You do,” she said, as he balled up the panties in one hand. “The cab wasn’t enough to satisfy me.”
The elevator slowed at the top floor, the doors spreading open. They spilled out, and he grabbed at her, pushing up her dress higher, as they stumbled down the hall, drunk on desire. Clutching at his shirt collar, she pulled him in, kissing him hard and deeply, biting his lip. He groaned, letting her know he wanted that kind of touch from her.
“When can I fuck you without a condom? I’m clean,” he said when they reached his door.
“Me too. I’m on the pill.”
“Let’s get inside,” he told her, fumbling in his pocket for his key and unlocking his door. Once inside he dropped her panties and the butterfly. Then he scooped her up, carried her to the couch in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, and gently placed her on the cushion. The softness stopped then as he spread her legs roughly, opening them wide. He felt like his entire body was on fire as he stared hungrily at her. Her cunt was a sight to behold. So ready for him in every way. He thrust a finger inside her tight, wet heat. She shrieked and threw her head back.
“That’s right. Now you can be as loud as you want. Let it out. Tell me how much you hated it when I made you wait.”
“I hated it,” she cried out as he added another finger, the wetness coating him instantly. He took a deep fueling breath as he crooked his finger inside her, hitting the spot within her that drove her wild. Made her writhe. Widen her legs.
“And me. You hated me for toying with you,” he added, dropping down to his knees.
“So much,” she moaned, her breathing harsh and heavy.
“You’ll forgive me now. I’ve made you so wet, haven’t I?”
“Yes. God, yes,” she said, opening her eyes and grabbing his face hard with one hand. Rough. Grasping his chin. Making him stare in her eyes as he finger-fucked her. “You turn me on so much. Don’t you understand? Sometimes I just need to be touched. I need you, Jack. I need you to touch me, and taste me, and fuck me,” she said, and she was firm but so damn open and honest at the same time. Laying out her wants. Making everything clear. There was no uncertainty in how she spoke to him, and he absolutely loved her directness.
“You’re a fucking wet mess and I love it,” he said, then he spread her legs and dived in, lapping her up, licking, tasting and kissing her like a hungry man, like it would be the last time he’d taste her in his life.
Instantly, she gripped his hair and arched into him. “You better not stop now, Jack Sullivan,” she said on a moan. “I mean it.”