Grounded (Up in the Air #3)(26)

He gave me an imploring look.

I caved in a heartbeat.

"You just need to find someone to pick up your shifts, right?" he asked. "You can drop as many as you want, if you find someone else to work them. Stephan explained it to me. Leave it to me. I'll handle everything. Just say you'll go." 

I should have said no. I should have told him that yes, I could drop the shifts, but it was really hard to find people to pick them up at straight time, when they could be working overtime for similar shifts, not to mention that if I dropped those shifts, I wouldn't be making any money for those days. I meant to tell him all of that, but instead I looked into his eyes and just caved. "Yes. I can't think of anything I'd love more."

He squeezed me so tightly that I yelped. "Thank you."

He picked me up again, cradling me as he left the studio and carried me to our bedroom. It was on the same floor and close, thank God, because we were both buck naked and covered in blue paint.

He took us directly to the bath, stepping into the deep tub with me as it filled with water.

He washed me slowly but thoroughly, scrubbing the paint where it was caked onto my skin. The bath quickly turned blue. We laughed as it just got darker and darker.

James had to work on us both for a while.

"Want me to help?" I asked, so relaxed that I wasn't sure I could work up the energy to be that helpful.

"No, Love. I want you to relax. When we're done in here, I'm going to take you to the fourth floor and give you a very thorough massage."

"Mmm," I said, closing my eyes. I felt his fingers move between my legs, and I opened them wider. He began to stroke me, humming against my throat as his clever fingers got to work. He pleasured me with his hands while he sucked on just the perfect spot on my neck. It was an almost leisurely orgasm, at least compared to what he usually gave me.

When he continued to thrust his fingers into me even after I'd come, I wiggled. "I want you inside me, James."

He bit my neck, hard. "You'll know when I'm ready to give you my cock because you'll have it inside of you," he said, thrusting the cock in question hard against my butt. "In the meantime, open your legs wider."

He worked at me with two fingers thrusting inside, dragging his other hand down my body to rub my clit just so.

"Come," he said into my neck, and I fell again.

We ended up showering after the bath. I had been a little overzealous with the paint apparently, because the bathtub ended up looking like it had been attacked by a paint-gun.

James dried me but left us both nude, pulling me to the elevator by the collar.

I had a thought, fingering his mother's earrings still in my ears, wet hair trailing around them. "Oh, James. I forgot I was wearing your mother's earrings. I didn't mean to get them wet."

He shot me a very doting smile over his shoulder. "They aren't my mother's. They're yours now, and a little water won't hurt them."

He went directly to the elevator, pushing the button. He grinned down at me. "Just pleasure tonight, Love. You need some time to heal from the roses. The fourth floor isn't only about the pain."

"I know," I said softly.

It had always been about more than pain, every bit of it.

He pulled me into the car as it opened, pushing me hard into the wall, pinning me there. "Have you ever been fucked in an elevator?" he asked with a smile.

I laughed. "You know I haven't."

I had thought that he was joking, but of course he wasn't, and he slid a leg between my thighs, pushing them open, and lifting me up. He had me wrapping my legs around his hips and was sliding into me in a flash. He pinned my arms above my head with his hands and began to thrust. I gripped him tightly with my thighs, whimpering as he pulled out of me, dragging along those perfect nerves and drove in again, driving me relentlessly towards another orgasm. He pounded at me, those mesmerizing eyes of his watching me with desperation, and an ardor that made it seem impossible that he'd already taken me less than an hour ago.



       
         
       
        

"Fucking come," he gritted, his words hard, his tone hard, but his eyes so unbelievably soft on mine.

I obeyed, losing all control at his command. "James," I cried.

He kissed me, not letting me down, not pulling out of me. He let my wrists free to wrap his arms around my back.

He began to walk, but didn't let up kissing me, didn't pull himself out of me. He padded down that ominous gray hallway and into our playground.

He was bending forward at his waist, and abruptly let me fall back.