Recluse (Wolfes of Manhattan 2)

And going out of town on a private jet.

And going with your new boyfriend to see a guided hypnotist.

Yeah. Normal stuff.

Well, the Wolfes were hardly normal. They were billionaires who owned a major real estate corporation and a private jet. A jet I’d flown in, no less.

I looked at my watch quickly. “You want any more? We have about five minutes.”

“No. I’m good.”

“Great. Now go change your clothes quickly. I’ll get us a cab.”

“We need to leave now?”

“I guess we have about twenty minutes.”

His gaze melted me. “I know exactly what we can do.”

Seconds later I was bent over the couch, Roy ramming his hard cock into me. It was raw, it was feral, and it was spectacular.

“I love you,” he said through gritted teeth. “I fucking love you, silver.”

“I love you too, Roy,” I nearly wept, my body trembling as he thrust into me again and again. The couch was leather with a crocheted afghan over the back. The wool of the afghan tickled my clit as he pumped, and soon I was soaring into a fiery climax.

I balled my hands into fists, moaned and screamed, as my body sank farther into the couch as he plunged, plunged, plunged.

The orgasm roared through me, my pussy throbbing in time with my heart, until finally Roy pushed into me deeply, violently, and released. Every pulse of his cock, every beat of his heart, every ounce of love from his soul wrapped me in ecstasy.

And I knew.

I fucking knew.

This was my forever.“Nervous?” I patted Roy’s thigh in the back of the cab.

“No.” He looked straight ahead.

“Liar.” I smiled. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

“I know. I’m not all Alpha like Rock and Reid.”

“Oh, you’re pretty Alpha, from what I’ve seen.” I squeezed his hard thigh.

“They’re both so…strong.”

“So are you, Roy. So are you.”

He nodded. “In some ways.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. This is for your family, for sure. But this is ultimately for you. To free you of whatever is inside you, whatever you’re hiding.”

“It’s been there for so long,” he said. “Most of the time I forget about it.”

He wasn’t lying. But he was. He thought he forgot about it, but he never did. I’d sensed that the first time I talked to him in the lobby about his painting.

Had he titled that painting? I’d never asked. I wasn’t sure now was the time to ask.

“You said you were working on a new project,” I said. “I didn’t get a chance to go into your studio and take a look. Tell me about it.”

He yawned. “It’s…personal.”

He hadn’t slept last night. He was obviously fatigued. Maybe this eight o’clock therapy appointment wasn’t such a great idea after all.

But he’d agreed. I wasn’t about to turn back the clock now.

The cab stopped at the large building in downtown Manhattan. We were only a block away from the Wolfe Building.

Roy paid the cabbie. The building loomed tall and dark in front of us. The sun hadn’t set quite yet but was behind a cloud, and the grayish exterior seemed almost ghostly.

But it was a building. Only a building. I entwined my fingers with Roy’s and squeezed his hand.

He nodded. He got the message. Everything is all right. That’s what my squeeze meant. I hoped my squeeze wasn’t lying.

We entered the building. Because it was after hours, we had to sign in with the lobby attendant, and he entered a code for us to go up in the elevator.

Roy tensed visibly.

Something about elevators.

Odd, since he’d been using elevators his whole life. Only now had I noticed how much they bothered him.

Maybe I should try to break the ice. “Ever had sex in an elevator?” I asked, trying to sound light and airy.

He cleared his throat, didn’t smile. “Never had the urge.”

Funny. That first day, when we came down in the elevator to get the lunch for our conference meeting, I bet he’d have been singing a different tune.

“You’ve never been in an elevator with me before,” I said playfully. Of course, he had been in an elevator with me before, several times.

“Silver, I’ll gladly fuck you as many times as you want. Just not right now, and not in an elevator.”

Hmm. Weird. Roy didn’t like elevators? How had I never noticed that?

I squeezed his hand once more as the elevator dinged and stopped at our floor.

We followed the signage to the offices of Drs. Woolcott and Aldrich. Roy stopped in front of the door. I inhaled, grasped the knob, and entered.

To my surprise, a young woman sat at the reception desk. Since it was after hours, I’d assumed we’d be entering an empty office.

“Hi,” she said brightly. “Are you Dr. Woolcott’s eight o’clock?”

Roy nodded. “I am.”

“I’ll let her know you’re here. Have a seat.” She gestured to me. “We have lots of magazines for you to look at while you’re waiting.”