Unworthy (The Worthy Series Book 1) Read online

“That’s amazing. What neighborhood?”

  He kneaded the ball of her foot as he listed off the choice locations they’d looked at and their idea that it would be more than a trendy nightclub. They wanted to be the neighborhood go-to bar for locals.

  “Ooh, that feels good.” She leaned back into his foot massage.

  “What about you? You won’t want to work for me forever. Back in high school you wanted to be a lawyer. Or a Miami Heat dancer.”

  She laughed. “You remember that?”

  His hands squeezed the arch of her foot. “Um, duh, you announced that at your dinner table. I was eighteen and all I could picture was you in a Heat dancer uniform. Your parents were amazed at how much I ate for dinner. But I wasn’t hungry, I couldn’t get up from the table without embarrassing myself.”

  She burst into laughter and then sobered. “They were killed a few weeks later.”

  “Yeah.” They fell into silence, but he kept rubbing her feet until her body got antsy for more.

  “How’s work with Amy going?” he asked.

  “Pretty well.” She grinned at him. “She’s in Tampa having Thanksgiving with her dad. I’m in charge of the store tomorrow.”

  “On Black Friday?” he asked, working her tender muscle deeply to the point of pleasure/pain.

  “I know, right? I’m terrified, but she said their busiest day will be on Small Business Saturday. She’s driving back tomorrow afternoon to be back in time. We partnered with the other stores in South Miami to make it kind of a street festival event.”

  “Sounds good.” His hands had moved to her lower back. “Lie down,” he said suddenly. I can reach more of you that way.”

  She complied, belly down on the couch, her chest draped over his thighs. She knew her sundress was riding up, revealing the curve of her lower butt cheek. Ian’s hands remained professional, rubbing and massaging her shoulders until she was a ball of jelly quivering in his lap. Her brain struggled to put words together in coherent sentences, when all she wanted to do was melt into Ian and put her lips on his body.

  Her arm drifted down off the side of the couch, and she caressed his calf over his jeans. She knew if she turned her cheek 180 degrees, her nose would brush his erection, but for now, she lay on his lap, enjoying the calm and quiet touch of his hands on her skin.

  This was what they could have together. It was a tiny sprout of a plant right now, but she trusted that it would grow Redwood big. Cat wanted it so bad, she could taste it. After tonight’s dinner while driving Danny to his motel, she’d swallowed the desire back and resigned herself to the fact that it was never going to happen.

  Ian’s presence in her house told her a different story, but not if he kept asking her to choose between him and her brother.

  “Cat?”

  “Hmm,” she murmured lazily, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his crisp leg hairs under her fingertips. She’d moved under the cuff of his jeans and up over his leg to feel skin.

  “You still awake?” Ian asked, his low, deep voice filling her feminine apartment.

  “Drifting,” she said. “This is nice.”

  “Yeah.” The one word managed to convey a wealth of emotion. At least in Cat’s interpretation.

  One of his hands remained rubbing her lower back; the other was now on her upper thigh slash ass. If he moved his fingers forward an inch, he’d feel the cotton of her panties.

  Unconsciously her hips rose, pushing her rear into his hand. He took the hint and cupped the curve of her butt, allowing his fingers to touch her over the thin cotton.

  A little whimper escaped her, but that was the only noise other than his deep, measured inhalations that told her he was as affected as she was.

  Take off my underwear, take it off, she chanted in her head, but didn’t make the first move. After his behavior tonight, she was still borderline angry and wanted to be soothed.

  “Cat?” His fingers were poised between elastic and skin, waiting on her acquiescence.

  “Yes.”

  She gripped his calf tightly as his fingertip swiped into her warm, wet, happy place. His left forearm pressed into her upper back holding her still, while his right hand continued his exploration between her legs.

  Oh…God… she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All her being focused on mentally following his fingers as they brought her joy and pleasure. She could be close. One touch from Ian, one look from him, and she was a sex goddess bent on pleasure.

  Too many nights she’d fallen into bed alone save her fingers, always, always dreaming of Ian. The reality of him on her couch, hands on her body, was too much to bear.

  “Ian,” she gasped out. And then that was all she managed as his finger went from light butterfly touches to deep inside her, fucking her passage. His thumb maintained contact with her clit, and her body tightened around him, every motion sending pleasure to her brain.

  “Come for me, Cat.” Impossibly, he sped up his movements, and did a twisting motion that had her cry out from the back of her throat and sent stars against the black of her tightly shut eyes.

  Her orgasm lasted for long rippling minutes, with Ian prolonging it by moving slower and gently against her body until, at last, she shuddered to completion.

  She lay across his lap in blissful silence, still facing away from the insistent erection pushing into her neck. “I’m glad we decided to do this,” she finally said quietly into the apartment air still pulsating with the recent sexual activity.

  “Do what?” he asked.

  “Go for it. Be a couple.”

  “Me too, Catherine, and I’m sorry.”

  She sat up and looked at him quizzically. “Sorry about what?”

  “About a lot of shit. Sorry I left you seven years ago, sorry about your brother, and sorry I ditched you at dinner making you drive Danny home alone. That should’ve been my job.”

  She loved that he was man enough to apologize, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for a full pardon. “How are you going to apologize? That orgasm was a good start, but I think I’ll need a smidge more groveling.”

  A dark look came onto his face, and she shivered at the devastating sexuality he gave off. “What did you have in mind?” he asked in a low rumble.

  “I could use someone to scrub my back.”

  His eyes lit and he stood. “Lead the way. I aim to please.”

  Cat rose also and led the way through her bedroom to her bathroom, which housed a large Jacuzzi tub. Without waiting for Ian, she tugged her sundress over her head and shimmied out of her panties.

  “No bra?” Ian asked, while watching her reflection in the mirror.

  “Don’t have one that works with this dress.” She leaned against the bathroom counter and raised a brow at Ian. “Well?” She gestured to the bath controls. “Aren’t you going to wait on me hand and foot?”

  He smirked. “As you wish.”

  She blinked at his words. Did he remember that she used to watch The Princess Bride at least weekly? Was he saying he loved her? She decided to act as if he’d said nothing and instead watched as the tub filled, then dipped a foot in, testing the temperature.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Perfect.” She lowered her whole body into the water and released a satisfied sigh. Ian remained fully dressed at the outside of the tub watching her with an intense look on his face. She opened one eye to look up at him. “You’re still dressed. Strip.”

  Wordlessly, he toed off his shoes, unbuttoned his dress shirt and shrugged it off. Then came his pants revealing a pair of grey boxer briefs stretched to the limit thanks to his rampant erection that threatened to permanently stretch out the cotton.

  “That looks painful,” she commented.

  He cupped himself over his underwear. “This?”

  She nodded.

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “That’s something I’d like to see.”

  “What?” He frowned slightly.

  “You. Handling it.”

 
; A smile of understanding spread his lips. “You want to see me jerk off?”

  Her cheeks heated and not from the steamy water covering her body, but she found the courage to nod. Since sleeping with Ian on her eighteenth birthday, she hadn’t been celibate, but her sexual encounters were brief and didn’t include intimacy. She loved that she was having this first with Ian.

  “I’d better get in the water first,” he said as he finished stripping fully. “I wouldn’t want you to strain your neck watching.”

  She laughed and shifted over making room for his much larger body. He slid in facing her, hand on his cock. Despite her very recent orgasm, her body was paying serious attention to what was happening in the tub.

  Droplets of water clung to his taut abdomen and the steam made his hair curl slightly. Her pale nipples were hardened points outside of the water, though with every shift of their bodies, the water level rose, caressing them.

  “You’re not watching,” Ian warned.

  She forced her unfocused eyes to open and witnessed one of the more glorious sights she’d ever seen. Ian leaned back against the tub, his eyelids hooded and his dominant hand was wrapped around the base of his cock, making slow firm strokes up and back. His other hand cupped his balls.

  She couldn’t take her gaze off him.

  “Jesus…the look on your face. I could come from that alone.”

  She swallowed but couldn’t respond.

  “Want to learn?”

  She glanced at his face quickly. “How to give a hand job? I think I’ve got that covered.”

  “Not for me, you don’t. You don’t know how hard I want you to squeeze, how fast. Should you make a twisting motion? Hold my balls? Use a finger in my ass?”

  Her grip on the tub edge slipped a little. If he could come at the look on her face, then she could come from the words on his tongue. “You’re right,” she said, when her brain could form words again. “You’d better teach me.”

  “With pleasure. Come here.”

  Gliding through the water, she knelt between his thighs, grateful—for once—for her petite size that allowed both of them to fit easily in the tub. She reached for his cock, replacing his hands with hers.

  “Harder,” he said. “But nice and slow for now. I’ll let you know when to pick up the pace.”

  She explored with different grips, feeling powerful as she held him, learning his shape and what made him suck back a breath and what made him groan with pleasure.

  “Total fantasy,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “You. Me. In the tub naked. Jerked off to this fantasy a thousand times in high school.”

  “Only a thousand?” she asked.

  “Well, I had to leave time for the pool fantasy. You in that turquoise excuse for a bikini.”

  She laughed as she remembered that bathing suit. “I bought that to tease you,” she said.

  “You were fourteen,” he groaned. “I felt like such a fucking pervert because I couldn’t stop thinking about my best friend’s little sister.”

  Cat released her hand from his cock and inched up to straddle him. His head nudged at her opening.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, with an edge on his voice.

  “You’re supposed to be pleasuring me.”

  “Ah, I forgot. What would you like, my princess?”

  “Only a princess? What do I have to do to earn the queen title?”

  He smiled. “I have a few ideas.”

  “Oh?”

  He gave an inscrutable smile, which had her playfully slapping water at his face. “You’re about to go from princess to brat.” He sat up, sloshing water out of the tub, and hoisted her up using her armpits until her breasts were at his eye level. Then he gently bit down on each of her nipples, one after the other.

  “Ian,” she squealed.

  “Hurt?”

  “No, but…”

  He bit again, then soothed by licking her breasts. Now she wasn’t squealing, but feeling the desire flare up again.

  “Are you on the pill?” he asked, suddenly, urgently.

  Sadly, she had to shake her head. “I can’t afford them.”

  “We’ll deal with that later,” he muttered as if to himself. “Let’s go.” He slid her off his lap then rose, water streaming down his torso to his legs. Naked, he reached for a towel and held it open for Cat to step into. He didn’t bother with a towel for himself.

  Instead he scooped her into his arms and strode to the large bed and carefully set her at the edge. “Spread your legs,” he ordered.

  Cat lay back, the towel edges fell to her sides, and she planted her feet on the mattress. Ian knelt and began an exploration of her body.

  He discovered the insides of her thighs were extremely ticklish, as was her belly button. So she pushed his head lower to where she knew she wasn’t ticklish.

  “Hold yourself open for me,” he ordered before diving in, tongue first.

  Cat’s head fell back and her emotions turned from murky to focused on the pleasure Ian was doling out. He licked with slow tortuous strokes, and then sped up to faster, more concentrated moves that had her moaning and gasping in small pants as another orgasm pressed in.

  “Give it to me, Cat,” Ian encouraged.

  “Too much,” she pleaded, but her protests were for naught because there was no stopping the wave of pleasure as it built, crested, then slowly ebbed. She’d barely caught her breath when Ian flipped her on her belly and held her thighs while exposing her rear to him. He took a second for a condom, then pushed his way inside.

  Cat closed her eyes as she was filled, unsure if her body could take more, but then Ian adjusted the angle of his thrusts and she wanted to take anything and everything he gave. “More. Please, Ian,” she cried into the cotton of her sheets.

  His response was to tighten his grip on her body and speed up his thrusts. Cat matched his movements, and together they danced until Ian groaned and released his pleasure into her. They rested, catching their breath, her still sheathing him. He pressed a kiss to the top of her spine, then slid out. Her toes dropped to the carpet, and she hung like a limp marionette.

  She heard Ian in the bathroom deal with the condom, but still didn’t move until he returned to the bed, scooped her up, and climbed into bed spooning around her.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” she murmured.

  “Best Thanksgiving ever.”

  She chuckled. “Well, not all of it. I’d rather not clean up turkey vomit next year.”

  “Next year, Danny will be clean or he’s not invited.”

  She stiffened in his arms.

  “Cat, come on. Are we really going to fight about Danny after the best sex of my life?”

  She softened slightly at his mention of the best sex ever. “I feel as if I’m constantly being made to choose between you and Danny. I want both.”

  He pulled her closer. “I want that, too, baby, but it’s really up to Danny.”

  She frowned at that truth. “Guess I’m going to be choosing forever. I don’t see Danny changing any time soon.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” Ian said. “I have an idea.”

  “Wake the fuck up, asshole.” Ian slammed open Danny’s motel room door to which he had a key. Seeing as he was paying for the room, he saw no reason not to take a key. Only when he fully entered the room, he saw the bed linens were a mess, but no one was in the bed. Same for the bathroom.

  There were no clothes on the floor and no toiletries near the sink giving any indication that someone had spent the night.

  Danny was MIA. “Shit,” Ian muttered. Where the hell could he go? He had no car and little money for transportation. Ian glanced at the time on his phone. He was too busy to spend the day looking for Cat’s brother. Art Basel started in two days and he had a shit-ton of work.

  He’d told Cat he had an idea of how to help Danny, but the truth was, he had no fucking clue. Short of kidnapping Danny and sending him to an abandoned island, there wasn’t much
they could do for him.

  He’d done some reading about addiction and learned that Danny might be permanently lost. His body was in a constant state of attack for which the cure only worked a small percentage of time.

  His current strategy was to find Danny and give him an ultimatum, using Cat as leverage. Once upon a time, Danny had been the world’s best older brother. Ian was counting on those dormant protective feelings to surge to life. But there was nothing he could do right now with Danny not where he was supposed to be.

  It wasn’t until several hours later that Ian got his chance. It was a typical work night. Tonight’s party was at Mamecitas, a crazy bar that appealed to celebrities, tourists, and locals. Ian and Drew were at their usual spot in the back of the room, surveying the crowd, keeping an eye on the bar tab totals, and the VIPs. Ian also had his eye on Cat, who was attracting a lot of attention in a hot pink tube top paired with high-waisted short-shorts. Sky-high stilettos completed the look. She was a pornographic fantasy come to life.

  When he’d first seen her come in to work, she’d taken one look at his face and knew she was courting trouble. True, she was going to boost the bar total from guys wanting to talk to her and impress her with their drink orders, but it also meant he had to force himself to concentrate on work and not on the pleasure of watching her all night.

  Lucky for him, she understood him and kept coming over to give him small kisses or to sit on his lap and steal sips of his drink. She was on one of these little sojourns now teasing him by perching on his lap and grinding the cleft of her bottom right over his dick.

  He made a mental note to have her give him a lap dance one day, but for now, he held her back close to his chest and whispered in her ear.

  “You being a tease, baby?”

  Her lips curled and she gave a sinuous slide over his hardening cock. “I’ll deliver,” she murmured.

  “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?”

  A wider smile.

  “You feel it? Feel me hard under you, ready to fuck you?”

  Her head swiveled to meet his lips, and they kissed until Ian was ready to call it a night, bring his woman back to his apartment, and get her in bed naked.