Submerged (Bound Together #1) Read online

  I grip ahold of her thin hips and lift her up on my lap, never breaking the connection of our mouths. When she wiggles her ass against my rock hard erection, I almost lose it. The friction is enough to drive a sane man out of his fucking mind with delirium.

  “Your destination.” It takes me a few seconds to process his words, but when I do, I realize we’re stopped in front of a large apartment building. I don’t even read the meter on the dash. I pull a handful of bills out of my wallet and practically throw them through the window.

  I let Carly lead us into her building and towards the elevator. Once inside, I push her against the wall because the thought of not feeling her pressed between the wall and my overheated body isn’t an option. I have a good eight or nine inches on her in height, so I lift her gently into my arms, lining up our mouths perfectly. Carly wraps her legs around my waist, her tight black skirt pushed up around her hips until I can feel the heat of her core through our clothes. My entire body is this close to having a Hulk moment right now as I fight the intense urge to rip my clothes clear from my skin with one tear.

  The elevator makes the world’s slowest ascent upward before eventually depositing us onto her floor. She points without breaking our kiss, and I walk with purpose in that direction, unable to set her down. Carly fumbles with the small bag tied around her wrist, dropping her keys on the floor at my feet. A deep sigh against my lips makes me smile uncontrollably.

  “I’ll get ‘em,” I whisper as I bend down, Carly still clamped firmly around my body. I slide the key in the knob and give it a turn.

  Inside, my entire focus is on the woman wrapped around me. I barely remember locking the door as we shed clothes and shoes on our way down the hallway. When we finally make it to her bedroom, I let her delicious body slide down my own. Not because I want to, but because it’s the only way to rid us of the rest of the clothes we’re wearing. The friction drives me crazy with lust.

  Before I make a grab for her skirt, I gaze deeply into those intoxicating brown eyes and ask, “Are you sure?” I already know that I am, but I have to make sure she’s one hundred percent on board with what I have planned.

  “More sure than anything,” she whispers, eyes all full of licentious innocence.

  I step forward and run my hands from her waist up her naked torso. Carly is wearing a black satin bra with white lace trim. It’s a beautiful contradiction of purity and naughty all rolled into this perfect little woman. And as she starts to unzip the zipper on the side of that skirt, I realize with a happy heart that she’s all mine.

  For tonight.

  Because all I can give her is this one perfect night.

  “I’m leaving in the morning, Carly, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. Could be a few months, could be a few years. I want you to know that before we go any further,” I tell her honestly.

  “So, you’re saying that tonight is just that? Only tonight?”

  “Yeah, I can only give you tonight.”

  She doesn’t even hesitate. “Then I’ll take tonight.”

  As my fingers reach for the front clasp of her bra, they have a slight tremble to them. My heart is wild in my chest and my head is swimming from the alcohol, the woman before me, and all the possibilities that lie ahead. I’m acting like this is my first time with a girl.

  I unsnap the little clasp, sending the material fluttering down her arms. Her olive skin is glowing in the moonlight as I take in the vision before me. My mouth waters reflexively as I let my eyes look their fill at her perfectly, naked tits.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” I tell her moments before my mouth descends on her chest. Her only reply is the loud moan that fills my ears like sweet music.

  I lick and suck at one taut nipple, sending shivers through her body. My other hand squeezes the other firm tit, filling my large hand perfectly, as if she was made for me. When I’ve had my fill of the first one, I turn to the other and shower it with the same attention.

  Hearing her soft groans and heavy breathing fill the room, I slowly kiss down her flat stomach and towards the hem of the skirt. I find that little black zipper already halfway down, so I give it one final tug, causing the skirt to fall open. A hint of black lace peeks at me over the opening of her skirt, enticing me to reveal whatever treasure is hidden from within. Carly shimmies as I push the skirt until it’s floating down her long legs, pooling at her ankles.

  I can’t even say words. The only sound that comes from my throat is a growl. It’s primal and completely foreign to me. Left in the wake of the skirt is this itty-bitty scrap of black lace. Black lace so small that there’s no hiding what’s underneath. And that thought blows my damn mind.

  “Lie down,” I demand from my squatting position on the floor.

  Carly wastes no time stepping back and sitting down on the edge of her bed. When she lies back, her black hair fanning out around her, I realize that every fucking fantasy I’ve ever had as a teenager, as a man, is lying right before me. She’s a vision. A goddess. And I’m about to have her.

  I start at her ankle as I run my tongue upward. When I reach the tender skin on the inside of her knee, she giggles, making me smile. I continue my route north heading to the Promised Land. As my tongue reaches the inside of her thigh, my senses are assaulted with the scent of her arousal. If I weren’t half drunk before, I’d be completely fucking plastered now. On Carly. Her scent is better than a shot. Better than the bottle.

  I run my fingers over the wet lace at the apex of her legs. Carly wiggles underneath me, giving me a glimpse at what’s to come. I use one hand to push the material to the side and use the other to explore her smooth center. Her skin feels like velvet as I slide my fingers along her wet pussy. Her entire body is on fire as I touch and caress her most intimate area. The sounds she makes only serve as an elixir to the burning need surging through my body.

  When my first finger slides within her tight body, she almost comes up off the bed. I feel her gripping my finger and I slowly slide it in and out, caressing her unhurriedly and tenderly. When I know she’s ready, I add a second. My hands are big which makes two fingers more than satisfactory for the woman I’m pleasuring.

  I pick up the pace a bit as I let her body, her moans of pleasure, guide me. Using my other hand, I spread it open wide on her lower stomach, holding her hostage against the oncoming storm. When I have her firmly in place, I lower my mouth and suck her clit within my lips. The sensations cause her to come with force against my mouth and on my hand. Her wetness surrounds me, the sounds of her release filling the room, driving me wilder than ever before.

  As she slowly starts to come down from the clouds, I stand up before her. My eyes holding her captive, and I make quick work of removing my boots, socks, pants, and boxers, until I’m standing before her in nothing but a smile. My large erection jets out of my body, impatiently waiting for his chance to explore her pussy. Grabbing my wallet, I pull a foil package out from inside and toss it up on the pillow above her head.

  Carly’s eyes widen as her eyes fall down to my dick. She subconsciously licks her lips as I slowly crawl over her waiting body. Her legs open even further as I line myself up with her body. My lips find hers once more. The kiss is fierce and bruising as I attack her lush lips. Those same lips that I’ve been fantasizing about doing dirty things to all night.

  I finally tear my mouth from hers as she grinds against me. My dick is pulsating and throbbing against her soft core, completely ready for action. Reaching for the protection, I make quick work at sheathing myself before lining up at her entrance. Remembering how tight she was when I made her come with my fingers, I know I need to take this slow. I’m not exactly a little guy and the last thing I want to do is hurt her.

  We lock eyes once more as I slowly start to push forward, entering her inch by glorious inch. Her tightness surrounds me, clawing at me and pulling me deeper. I pause for a few moments to allow Carly to adjust to my size. Her beautiful eyes flutter closed as she exhales deeply, her warm breath f
anning across my face. When her eyes open a few moments later, I see nothing by lust. Need. Unadulterated desire.

  Without hesitation, my body pulls out slightly and then surges forward, filling her so completely that I don’t know where she starts and I end. I want to close my eyes and revel in this amazing moment, the feel of her tightness and heat surrounding me, but I fear that I’ll miss a single eye flutter, moan, or breath that she takes. My body starts to quicken the pace completely on its own. I can’t slow this freight train down even if I tried. And I sure as hell don’t want to.

  My hands roam over her body, committing every curve to memory. If I only get one night with this woman, I want to be able to remember it for the rest of my life. My lips descend upon hers once more as we duel with our tongues, nip with our teeth, and suck with our lips.

  Just when I feel that all too familiar tightening at the base of my spine, Carly’s internal muscles clamp down around me like a vise and pull. The sensation practically sucks all existing air completely from the confines of the bedroom. How I’m able to breathe is completely beyond me. Her moans echoing off of the moonlit walls are the last thing I hear before flying entirely off the ledge of sanity and straight into mind-numbing oblivion. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life. I’m practically floating as I slow my pace and prolong that sweet, sweet friction we create with our bodies.

  I rest my sweaty forehead against hers, gulping in huge breaths of fresh air. “Holy shit,” I finally manage to say, aftershocks still coursing through my body.

  “Yeah,” she whispers hoarsely from underneath me. Her legs are still firmly clamped around my waist, her arms gripping tightly at my back. Our chests are stuck together, covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. It’s erotic as hell, and suddenly my body is already thinking about round two.

  Fearing that I’ll crush her, I slowly disconnect myself from within her warmth and slip on my side, pulling her with me. I cradle her securely in my arms as we both absorb the sounds of our mixed breath mixing with the faint sounds of passing cars in the fairly quiet night.

  I slowly start to pull away–not because I want to, but because I need to get rid of the rubber. Quickly, I find a small en suite bathroom and lose the suit. After splashing a little cold water on my overheated face, I hesitantly look up at myself in the mirror. Why tonight? Why did I have to meet someone that I actually want to get to know? I can already feel that it could be more than just sex with her. Why couldn’t I have found her a few weeks ago, a few months ago, hell even a few years ago? Why the night before I leave and become someone else?

  I can stare at myself all I want, but the answer sure as hell isn’t going to be in my reflection. There is no answer, at least not one that I like. Tomorrow I have to go, plain and simple.

  I flip off the light and step back into the bedroom. Carly is lying on her side facing me with her eyes closed. She looks peaceful. Content. Stunning.

  “Are you staying?” she whispers without opening her eyes as if she fears what she might see.

  “Do you want me to?” I ask, walking over to the bed.

  “Yes,” she whispers without hesitation. “One night, right?”

  “Yeah, one night,” I confirm, sliding down into the warm, soft bed and pull her snugly against me. Her heartbeat is strong against my solid chest as she places her small hand over my heart. I’m sure she feels how wildly my heart is beating. I start to feel her relaxing against me and I know that sleep is coming shortly.

  “Carly?” I whisper.

  “Yeah?”

  “I need you to know that tonight might have been the best night of my life. I won’t ever forget it.”

  She raises her head and looks up at me, eyes full of so much emotion. “I won’t ever forget it either,” she says before placing another soft kiss on my lips. I want to always remember what these lips feel like, taste like. After I’m long gone, I want to always remember how she felt against me.

  “I won’t forget you,” I confess softly before my tongue dives into her mouth.

  “Me neither. I promise,” she pants after I’ve left her breathless and thoroughly kissed.

  That night, Carly and I kissed passionately, laughed joyfully, and came together beautifully. It was the perfect end to the night. The perfect way to end Blake Thomas.

  In the morning, with lead filled legs, I slowly pull myself from her bed. I watch her sleep as I dress on autopilot. When my boots are laced and I’m ready to go, I place a gentle kiss on her slightly parted lips. The same lips that I kissed so thoroughly throughout the night. I take a few extra minutes to memorize her face, her features. I watch as she continues to slowly breathe in and out. I gaze at the way her lips flutter as if she’s talking in her sleep. I commit to memory every moment I’ve shared with this woman since she walked into the bar not even ten hours ago.

  With one last glance and one last, lingering kiss, I head out of the room, out of her apartment, and out of her life.

  Today, I become Blake Crisp.

  Chapter One – Sleepless Nights

  Carly

  Present Day

  My alarm goes off at six o’clock like clockwork every morning. That stupid little piece of annoying electronics has the worst timing ever! It wasn’t that long ago that I was actually able to fall sleep. Whoever said that babies sleep better after a year old, clearly didn’t know anything.

  I’d been delusional about the fact that babies monopolize so much of your time, so much of your sanity. So much of your soul. I haven’t taken a full, relaxing shower in forever. Days where I’m able to both brush my hair and put on make-up are few and far between. Sometimes I don’t eat a single bite until midmorning when I finally sneak down to the vending machine and buy a two dollar Hostess Ho Ho from the lower level employee break room at work. I’ve eaten more cereal dinners than I care to admit.

  But I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

  My sole priority is my fourteen-month-old daughter, Natalia. She is the most beautiful baby girl in the entire world. Sure, I might be a tad bias, but I honestly believe that with her black, curly hair, her beautiful green eyes the color of dewed morning grass, and her chubby little cheeks, she rivals most Gerber babies in those baby food commercials.

  She’s also a daily reminder of that night. That one amazing night.

  I’m just stepping inside the shower stall when I hear that familiar high-pitched war cry. My daughter has the best set of lungs I’ve ever heard. She can wake a hibernating bear at two hundred yards.

  I know that my time is very limited now so I rush through the remains of my shower, remembering that I didn’t have time to wash my hair yesterday. The wail is getting increasingly louder by the second, so I forego shaving my legs. Again.

  I always knew that babies were a lot of work. Add in the fact that I’m a single parent of a baby girl who developed reflux and colic at a very young age, and you have the recipe for sleepless nights and high anxiety. Thank God for Mom.

  My mother is a saint. A Godsend. She’s the only person who kept me going when my body was ready to give out and my mind completely gone. Mom lives a few miles away from my two-bedroom apartment and spends her days here, watching her only granddaughter. Mom is a novelist. Romance? Nope. Mom writes crime novels, and makes a pretty good living at it. She writes in the evenings and a bit at night, only able to get in a few hours of work in between tending to a high maintenance baby. But, she doesn’t charge me to babysit, and for a single mom, that’s a huge plus.

  My mom is one of the most beautiful women in the entire world; both inside and out. Again, I might be slightly prejudice, but I speak the truth. She raised me entirely on her own from the time I was five years old. Getting me out of a sticky home life was top priority. My father wasn’t around as often as most fathers. His job in sales wasn’t nine to five and pulled him away from the house more often than not. But I do remember that when he was there, he doted upon me like any proud father. I was the apple of his eye. His pride a
nd joy.

  Until it all fell apart.

  Making sure the shampoo is completely out of my hair, I grab the soap and make sure to clean all the necessary areas. God, what I wouldn’t give to shave my legs uninterrupted–both legs complete at the same time. Just once.

  With a towel wrapped firmly around my midsection, I step out of the en suite bathroom and head across the hall. Natalia’s wails are urgent now, my cue that my chance at peace and quiet has come and gone. I step inside the pink room with morning sunlight filtering through the ivory curtains and head straight for the crib. My daughter is standing against the railing, tears streaming down her face, as she waits for me to pick her up. This little sweet pea is definitely not a morning person.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” I coo as I pick the half-pint up and cuddle her into my chest.

  Natalia grabs for the towel, her big toothy grin firmly in place. A rare morning smile. I’ll take it!

  After a quick diaper change, we head back into my bedroom where I find the playpen ready in the corner. It’s part of our morning routine that Natalia plays with a few toys while I get ready for work. The singing bunny and the farm animals that moo, neigh, cluck, and oink will hold her attention for about five point six seconds. As I do every morning, I have to make this quick.

  Grabbing the first black pencil skirt I find in my closet and a cream colored button-up satin shirt, I head towards my dresser to find a pair of nylons. It takes me three pairs before I find a pair without a run from the ankle clear up to the knee. I dress in record time, almost missing one of the tiny pearl buttons under my breasts. I complete the outfit by grabbing my favorite pair of black Stuart Weitzman pumps with the black satin bow on the toe, a gift from my uncle.

  As the personal assistant to Reid Hunter, I am compensated healthy to dress to impress. I am the final face before potential customers and clients meet with the man recently named one of Forbes Top Ten Business Men in the US Under the Age of Thirty-Five. I have a copy of the magazine safely stashed in my desk drawer that I like to pull out and tease Reid with on occasion.