Tell Me You Crave Me Page 3

  Not sweet.

  “Rethinking your stance on me yet, Easton?” she asked with more confidence than she’d felt in a long time. He gave her a satisfied “mmm” just as he thrust into her hand.

  He threw his head back. “Yes. But you best be warned, I like it rough.”

  His words sparked through her whole body until her nipples zinged so hard with anticipation it almost hurt. She’d wanted this—wanted him—for longer than she dared admit. And now, though she knew she should stop here, ought to send him out and forget this had ever happened, she had him in her hands and heaven help her, she couldn’t stop herself. She needed more, and it looked like he needed more, so she did the only logical thing:

  She went for it.

  She unfastened his belt, unzipped his jeans, and shoved them low on his waist. His cock was big, hard, and…wow.

  “Oh my…” She gasped and ran her fingers along the deeply grooved V of his hips. Though his shirt covered most of him, even in the low light she could still see the tops of his powerful thighs and smooth skin—

  “Now look who’s star struck,” he said, with all the cockiness in the world. Which only irritated her. She was not star struck by him! She was just new to this whole passionate, half-naked messing around thing. And she’d prove it!

  She grabbed the bottom hem of his white T-shirt, lifted it up, and shoved the bunched cotton in his mouth.

  “Will you shut up for a second so I can enjoy this, please?” she said.

  Even with the bottom of his own shirt stuffed in his mouth, she saw him smile around the cotton.

  At least he was quiet for the moment. And sweet baby Jesus, he was on display. For her.

  The hips she’d been touching apparently had been just the beginning of a rocking body. She ran her fingers up his endless abs. She’d had no idea muscles could be so hard. She wove her fingertips along the defined grooves and trailed up to his chiseled chest and small brown nipples. Everything about the man was hard.

  He was being a good sport. But he’d tortured her as a teenager, and she had every intention of making him suffer now. She’d take her time with him, go so slow it made him ache. His swollen cock was begging for attention, and she really wanted to give it. But not yet. Nope, Easton Ambrose would have to earn it, at least a little, when it came to her. For all the times he’d annoyed her, poked at her, challenged her, this was her time to poke back.

  Besides, he was about the finest specimen of man she’d ever seen. He stood between her spread thighs, jeans tugged down, holding his shirt up with his teeth and smiling at her from beneath the shadow of his Stetson, and she was certain she’d never seen a sexier sight.

  But that didn’t mean she had to feed his ego.

  “You know, honestly?” She trailed her palms down his abs until her thumbs teased inches from his straining erection. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

  He growled at her, and when she ever so gently ran her fingertip along the pulsing head of his cock, she barely saw what happened next.

  East’s hat and shirt were gone in one swoop, and his hands were on the backs of her knees, yanking her body into his. Somewhere along the lines he’d torn her panties off because suddenly she felt his skin against hers.

  She gasped when velvet steel slid between her folds. Not breaching her, but pressing on her clit so hard, she might have just had a mini orgasm from the single touch.

  “Getting mouthy is one thing,” he growled, his lips on hers. “But lying is another.” He ground against her and ran his cock up and down her folds. The crown of him caught the sensitive bundle of nerves in a way that shot electricity through her veins like a bullet.

  “Oh God!” she gasped, slapping her hands on his shoulders, looking for anything to hang onto and finding only him.

  “I’m sorry,” East said harshly and thrust against her again. “I didn’t hear you, baby.” He tugged hard on the backs of her knees, and he pressed her closer against him. “Did you just call me a god? Because a second ago, I thought you said you couldn’t see what all the fuss was about.” The way his deep voice danced over the shell of her ear just before he bit down made her nails sink in as she clung to him.

  “I…I…” She struggled for words. Struggled to keep the upper hand and not give in. But this felt so good. Too good.

  “You what?” he asked. “You thinking maybe you like it?”

  He slowly slid his cock down…

  “Thinking maybe you do want me, and want to tell me how sorry you are for hurting my poor little feelings?”

  He slowly slid his cock back up…

  She gritted her teeth. He was baiting her. Her body was shaking, already on the verge of exploding with pleasure. But she couldn’t give in.

  “Thinking maybe you want more?” He took a taste of her sweetly sticky nipple, then was back at her ear. “Want to tell me how I’m going to make you come and I’m not even inside you yet?”

  That did her in. The way he talked to her, a little deep, a little dirty, and a lot hot, had her melting. She wasn’t Little Natalie, wasn’t awkward. She was a woman. A woman he wanted, and he was treating her like she’d never been treated before.

  She couldn’t hold back, she was so close. Needed him so much. And there was only one thing she could say.

  “Yes.” She threw her hips out to try to run herself along his cock, but instead impaled herself in one motion. “Oh, East!” He was inside her. Deep and fast and hard, and she came instantly.

  “Fuck, baby!” he groaned, but she barely heard it. She was too busy clawing at his back and locking her legs around his hips to keep him right where it was. Deep. Because her entire body was spiraling around him, and he was the only gravity she held to.

  Light flashed behind her eyes as every single nerve snapped and pulsed with white-hot pleasure, warming her skin and curling her toes. Her core shuddered, over and over, milking the hard cock that was still inside her. Just still. No movement. No thrusting, as if he were taking in every moment of her core squeezing him.

  “Baby,” he said. “We can’t…we have to stop…”

  “Don’t stop,” she gasped.

  The pulses got faster, hotter. She bit down on his shoulder and rode out the best release of her life, while his grip tightened on the backs of her knees and he held her through it.

  When the pleasure started winding down, she couldn’t breathe. She only felt. Felt spent and alive and wild and exhausted all at the same time. But when East pulled quickly out of her, she knew right away she wasn’t done. She wanted to scream and cry and beg him to come back. She barely had her eyes open to watch him take a condom from his pocket, rip it open with his teeth, and cover himself. Thank God, he didn’t look to be done, either.

  “Please, baby,” he said, coming back between her legs. “Let me feel you do that again.”

  He gripped the nape of her neck with one hand, and the other wrapped around her waist and pulled her back onto his hard cock.

  She instantly lost her breath and gave in to the incredible feeling of what it was like to be a part of Easton Ambrose. He’d made her feel better than any man ever had, and he’d barely had to try. Not to mention…he wanted her to come again?

  She kissed his lips softly and finally answered his plea:

  “Make me.”

  She felt him smile against her mouth and slowly shake his head. “Oh, baby, I intend to.”

  With that, he yanked her body into his as he thrust even deeper than she’d thought possible. Her ass almost came off the counter, but East was right there to catch her. He held her steady between his strong grip and massive cock, and he worked in and out of her like his sole mission on earth was to make her body feel alive.

  And God did he do that well.

  He held her tight, pumped in and out, and hit an amazingly sensitive spot inside she never knew existed. The way he ground his hips, stirred deep after a forceful thrust, hit every nerve she had, she had no choice but to throw her head back and moan wh
ile he turned her body into a blissful puddle.

  “Oh no you don’t,” he rasped, the grip on the back of her neck tightening and forcing her face up to look at him. “You watch me.” He punctuated his demand with a succession of perfect pumps into her. “You watch me fuck this tight”—thrust—“hot”—thrust—“pussy. And you remember what you asked for.”

  Her blood started to snap in her veins like a freshly struck match. Not quite igniting…so close…

  Snap…

  “You wanted me to make you come?” he rasped, and when his hand slid to the back of her head and tunneled into her hair, he tugged hard and caused her chin to lift toward the ceiling and her eyes to hit his. “I expect to see it. Unless you were bluffing? Maybe you want something softer…sweeter…”

  Snap…

  She snarled at him at that word, “sweeter.” He was like a sexy wolf. The glow of the hall light hit his chiseled frame and shone off his bright eyes and perfect face.

  Always challenging me.

  She slid her hands to his bulging biceps and sank her nails in as she kicked her hips out, all the way off the counter to meet his wild fucking.

  Snap!

  The match lit. Her body caught fire, and the flame surged along every muscle and bone and atom she had. She shattered into a thousand pieces as East fucked her through an even more intense orgasm than the last.

  “Ah, God, yes!” he yelled to the ceiling. He didn’t go softer. Didn’t go sweeter like he’d threatened. He fucked her harder, until she was certain the entire shop was shaking.

  “Natalie…” he said. The way he rasped her name into her ear made her cling tighter. His whole body tensed and shuddered with his own release. She locked her legs around him and pulled him as deep and as close as she could.

  She held him there as the bliss of what had just happened faded. Her eyes were too heavy to open and face what they’d just done.

  Chapter Two

  It took Natalie a solid fifteen seconds to realize the loud knocking she was hearing in her ears was also coming from the door.

  Some large, hard pillow surrounded her. She peeked with one eye and took in her surroundings. She was on some kind of blanket, on the floor in the back room of her shop. And the large pillow was actually East sleeping with his tree trunk arms wrapped around her.

  Oh crap!

  This was bad. So bad. Having sex with him had been wrong but so right. And maybe they could forget that had happened. But him staying here with her? Holding her while they slept? What the hell had they been thinking?

  Knock, knock!

  Perfect. And now someone was out front. How was she going to explain East and her being here together overnight?

  Wait. This didn’t even need an explanation. East cared about her. Everyone would assume she’d needed help with some big order or something. Simple as that.

  She slowly got up, adjusted her mangled dress, and peered around the corner from the back prepping station toward the entrance. There, right above the Closed sign, was her mother’s snooping nose as she tried to look into the shop window.

  “Natalie!” Knock, knock, knock. “Natalie Elizabeth St. Clair, I know you’re in there,” her mother called.

  Great, her mom had hunted her down. Not that it was a hard feat to accomplish, since she’d been doing it Natalie’s whole life. She was the only daughter of the renowned southern belle Lemon-Anne St. Clair, and her mother made it a special priority to ensure Natalie was on the debutante path of all things a lady should be.

  Too bad Lemon-Anne got an awkward, nearsighted daughter with apparently not a sexy gene in her body. At least until last night. East had made her feel more than sexy. He had made her feel wild. Free. Like a woman.

  He’d also made her see red and pissed her off to no end. And what was worse, he was still here.

  Yeah, that thing about East’s presence not needing an explanation… She wasn’t ready to test that out.

  “East!” she whispered harshly. But he just lay there, asleep in nothing but a bit of frosting and a smile, and covered by nothing more than her pie cloth. Which, judging by the way the scrap of pastry mat was distended, was hiding what she now knew to be a very impressive cock.

  She couldn’t help but to appreciate him for a second—a sexy, strong man surrounded by tall rolling trays of cupcakes.

  Knock, knock!

  Appreciation time was over.

  “East!” she whispered again. He just stayed asleep, with one meaty arm thrown over his eyes, and his rock hard abs slowly rose and fell on even breaths. Even his cock grew harder. God, was there a soft thing about the man? This was bad. Very, very bad.

  “Natalie!” her mother said again.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  Using her foot, she shoved East’s leg the rest of the way into the back room and shut the door gently. Leave it to the aggravating man to sleep like the dead when she needed him to get the hell out.

  She paused only to adjust her dress the best she could and brush the now crusty frosting off of her. Fat chance she could make herself presentable, but her mother wasn’t leaving. So she did her best to fix her hair while making her way to the front of the shop.

  One deep breath…then she opened the door.

  “Hello, Mother.”

  Her mother took in her appearance and clearly wasn’t impressed. “What on earth have you been doing in here?” she said in horror.

  “Uh…baking. Large order, so I was up late,” she fibbed.

  Lemon-Anne let herself in, sidestepped Natalie, and took in the top of the display case, which looked like a cupcake massacre had happened there.

  “I see,” her mother said with a stern scowl. “You can’t throw a fit every time you don’t get a little cake perfect. If you’re going to be in this ridiculous business, you might as well be professional about it.”

  It would be like her mother to assume she’d thrown a fit. It was also ironic that Natalie’s perfectionism was in large part placed on her by the great Lemon-Anne. But for now she would shut her mouth and just try to get her mother out of there before East stumbled out half asleep and, God forbid, half naked.

  “I need to get back to work, Mom, so what can I do for you?” Natalie asked.

  “So, I’m to understand you ran out on your date last night to come bake instead?”

  Between the frosting and her sad-looking dress, Natalie couldn’t really deny much. But she definitely had to deny the East part of her night. Her mom loved East like a second son, and that was kind of the problem. The guy was forbidden territory in every sense.

  “The date went fine, but, like I said, I had some stuff to catch up on.”

  “I heard at my ladies’ group this morning that you stood up poor Charles.” Her mother sauntered around. Her light pink purse hung from the crook of her arm as she rubbed her thumb and first finger together as if there was something sticky between them. “Not to mention, you didn’t respond to my messages last night. Not a kind way to treat your mother.”

  “I responded,” she said. It had only been once, but that counted. “And it’s not true that I stood up Charles. I showed up to the date, I just didn’t stay the whole time.”

  Her mother looked horrified by her admission, but Natalie had been bored out of her mind and hadn’t even felt like she’d been on a date. At least until East had come around and annoyed the hell out of her.

  “Well, it’s still rude, Natalie, and honestly, if you want to get a man to stick around, you have to first stay for the whole date.”

  “I know, Mom. But you and I have different opinions on the role a man plays in my life.”

  “Well, be that as it may,” she said, dismissing Natalie’s words. “You need to settle down.”

  “I have my own shop, my own home. I’m settled.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean by settled. Start a family. You have all your other roots here. Honestly, I don’t see why you don’t want more.”

  “I do want more.” Just not
in the form of weekly ladies’ groups and debutante status. Yes, Natalie wanted a man, but she wanted him for passion and fun. Not as sweater-vest-wearing father-of-four material.

  “Well, Charles was your last chance to find a date before your brother’s wedding.”

  “His wedding is in two weeks. And who cares if I have a date?”

  “I do!” her mother snapped. “You’re pushing thirty, and all the good men with good families are already taken. Your friends are getting married, having babies—”

  “I’m twenty-five, mother.”

  “Exactly. Already a quarter of a century.”

  That familiar hollowness in Natalie’s stomach started to tug again. Her mother was a good woman, but she was hard to live up to. She knew her family loved her. Especially her mother. But they were nothing alike, and the things her mother wanted for her would never fit with the life Natalie wanted, least of all the idea that one day she would be a “kept” woman.

  Yes, her friends were moving on, and yes, it played on some insecurities she had about her life and the clock ticking. But she was tired of being invisible. Even on her best dates, she was never noticed as a woman.

  Until last night. Why was the one man she ought to stay far away from the one man who’d ever made her feel seen?

  Her mother came over to clasp her shoulders. “Sweetie, I just want what’s best for you.”

  Natalie nodded. “I know.”

  “So I’m calling Harrison.”

  “What? Mom, no.”

  “Now, Natalie, your brother’s wedding is a big event around here, and I won’t have my only daughter showing up alone. You’ll look uneven in the pictures. It’s bad enough you wander about unattached as it is.”

  “Wait…” Natalie had to take a few steps back. This was more about the family name and the fact that Natalie going stag would start some gossip at her mother’s women’s group than anything else. Was Lemon-Anne really becoming that embarrassed of her own daughter? Natalie tried not to think so, because it made a sting rise behind her eyes. “What do you mean Matt’s wedding is a big event around here? He’s getting married in Connecticut.” Where he lived with his fiancée.