Free Suspended by Taryn Elliott

battered the rocks
spitting spray into the night. Moonlight shimmered across the breakers—wild and
beautiful like the man who leaned against the railing. Dress pants hung low
along his tapered waist, and his dress shirt was long gone.
    “Shane, why don’t you come inside?”
    “Why don’t you come out here?”
    Everything inside her wanted to move closer, to touch the
smooth expanse of his back and feel those muscles bunch and glide under her
fingertips again.
    He looked over his shoulder, his eyes glittering in the dark.
“You want another fuck, Miss New York?” His voice rumbled, barely rising over
the crashing waves.
    Her nails bit into her palm. “You’re an asshole.”
    His wide hands flexed around the steel railing. The muscles
of his shoulders rippled under the strain. “I’ve been an asshole since you met
me, babe. Didn’t stop you from climbing on me before.”
    No, it hadn’t. Hell, it had ramped up the lust. Not that
she’d tell him that. She took a deep breath and stepped out onto the glass
platform. She swallowed against the quick shock of vertigo. Cool air whipped
her hair around her face. “Are you just going to sulk in the dark?”
    He shrugged and looked back out at the water. “Not bothering
anyone. But I don’t think you came in here to check on me for that, now, did
you?”
    “What makes you say that?”
    He turned and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned
his hip against the glass. “You closed the door.”
    How the hell could he know that? “What? Do you have the ears
of a bat?”
    He didn’t answer her, just pushed off the rail toward her.
“Worried about me?”
    She straightened her shoulders. “If you pitch yourself off
the balcony, then the Heron is mine free and clear.”
    His teeth flashed. “Is that right?” She took a step back as
he closed the distance. He caught her wrist. “Running?”
    She wasn’t sure if it was the roar of the sea or her heart
rate in her ears as he wrapped his long fingers around her pulse point. “I
don’t need to run.”
    “You don’t want to run. There’s a difference.” He drew her
wrist behind her back until she went up on her toes and her breasts grazed his
chest. The dark thrill zinged through her, tightening her nipples to aching
points. The sharp tang of whiskey burned her nose. He brushed his lips along
her jaw and nipped at her ear. “I’m tired of being numb. When I’m inside you, I
can feel again.”
    She shivered. She understood the numbness now. When she was
busy, she didn’t think about her empty bed. She was too glad to see it at the
end of the day to want to do anything more than sleep. One touch from Shane and
sleeping was the last thing on her mind. She should be exhausted, but her body
was so keyed up she could only think about getting him over her or under her.
    He brought his mouth to hers, hovering just out of her reach.
“Is this what you want?”
    She nodded. The heat of his breath against her lips stalled
her ability to speak.
    He jerked her hoodie over her shoulders and down her arms,
but instead of dropping it to the floor, he trapped her hands and brought the
zipper up to lock her arms behind her. His touch was gone. She had room to
move—to a point. “I watched your face this afternoon when I held your arms
behind you. You liked it.”
    She gasped. She wasn’t sure if she liked it. She wanted to
touch, wanted to feel the warmth of his skin under her hands. But with her
shoulders pinned back, her breasts were on display. The cool night air streaked
through the thin tank she wore. He nosed down a strap, leaving only the
stretchy lace of her bra as a shield. His breath was hot and moist, but he
didn’t touch her. Didn’t taste her.
    “Is this what you want?”
    She nodded again and groaned when he pulled away.
    “I need to hear you say it, Kendall.”
    She closed her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I want this.”
    “Like this?” He circled her nipple through the lace. Needing
to see what he was doing, she