Summer Indiscretions Page 5
But she doesn’t feel like family, and on the other side of the soft skin I’m touching on her back—pressed against the couch—are her breasts. All I want is to see how they fit the palms of my hands, and then I want to claim those Cupid’s bow lips with my own and feel the vibration of her moan against my mouth.
I blink hard. No, I don’t want to claim anything. I’m just giving her a massage, working the tension out of her muscles.
“Mmm, that feels so good.”
Her throaty moan slams me low in the belly, and my abs tense. I lean lower with the intention of kissing the back of her neck, but pull up short just in time. My rapidly dwindling self-control shrugs, leaving me alone with my hands on the softest skin I’ve ever felt.
“Your skin’s gorgeous.” The words just slip out.
“Your hands are gorgeous. This is the best back rub I’ve ever had.”
I blow out slowly. Back rub, that’s all.
Does she want this to be more than a therapeutic massage? Is she into this being more? “I could make this feel even better, Mel.” I move a little closer to her, kneeling near her waist.
She shifts her hips a little and turns her face toward me, looking back over her shoulder. On the beach, she was as exposed as she is right now, but her expression was surprised and shocked. Now, with this heated invitation sparkling in her eyes, it’s much more devastating.
All of the blood in my body is rushing to one place, and it’s not my brain.
Reaching back, she traces the top of my shorts, where the fabric meets my belly. She drives my nerves crazy with that tentative touch—a complete contrast to the decisive expression on her face—and I swallow hard, my self-control ground down to a nub, but fuck it. “Mel, would you like to turn over?”
She nods and slowly spins around, covering her breasts with her forearms, a faint blush darkening her cheeks.
I take my time drawing my hands down her ribs, pausing on her hips as I lock my gaze with hers. “You’re so beautiful. Don’t hide yourself from me, OK?” She nods and moves her hands, goose bumps forming beneath my fingers as I draw them up between her breasts to trace her collarbones and the elegant slope of her neck.
Her breaths come faster, and I hold off as long as I can before palming her breasts and feeling the nipples harden into stiff peaks. Bending to kiss her ribs, I gently squeeze and then kiss my way to her right nipple.
She sighs when I suck it into my mouth, swirling my tongue across the sensitive bud. Her fingers find the back of my neck and pull me closer, so I follow her cue and suck harder until she moans. Then I switch to the other nipple. I lavish it with the same attention until her fingers clench my hair.
“Kiss me.”
The second word is barely out of her mouth before I crush my lips against hers, melding her lips to mine. She wraps her arms around me like she’s scared I’ll try to escape, but I couldn’t pull away if I wanted to. She’s like raspberries and something sweeter, and I taste her mouth with my tongue, plunging it deep inside. Her lips are so damn soft, but they return my aggressive exploration, matching me perfectly. I want so much more.
I’ll kiss her, but that’s all. I’m not going to take advantage of this situation.
Her breasts spread against my chest when she pushes up against me. I nip her lip and circle her nose with mine before going in for another taste. Her kisses are bold and direct, and they drive me fucking crazy—just like she does. She doesn’t tease me or hesitate with a tentative tongue.
I pull back and kiss her jaw before nibbling the delicate shell of her ear. She shivers beneath me—when did I climb on top of her?—but her legs squeeze my waist with firm pressure. I want to taste her neck, so I do.
If this is wrong, it wouldn’t feel so goddamn right.
I bet all roads to hell start with a similar sentiment, the same hollow justification. I kiss her one last time, sweetly, and tuck an escaped curl behind her ear. I clench my teeth in an effort to gather my control and pull back.
She burns me with a hooded gaze. “Blake. I want you.”
I scoop her off the couch in one fluid movement and carry her down the hall to the bedroom.
I’m a good guy, not a stupid one.
When a woman like this tells you she wants you, you consider yourself lucky and give her everything you’ve got. No holding back, no hesitation.
She breathes into my ear, nibbling the earlobe with her teeth while I walk us to the bed and set her on it. Mel reaches for me when I stand up.
“Come here.”
I shake my head. “Take off your bottoms. I want to see you.”
She bites her lip, but I keep my gaze on hers, not hiding my physical appreciation of her. After a moment, she eases the boy shorts over her hips. I need to see her naked. Now. Too impatient to wait for her to continue removing them at this glacial pace, I snatch the shorts from her hands and draw the fabric down her thighs and off. I ball up the bottoms and toss them away without a glance, leaving her naked on the bed.
The soft, fading sunlight streams through the window across the room, reflecting light onto her. It highlights everything I want to taste and touch, but she presses her legs slightly together and I frown.
“Are you trying to hide from me?”
She swallows hard and lets her hands rest on the bed at her sides. “No.”
“Good.” I slowly strip off my shorts. Her gaze sharpens, so I take my time.
They say size doesn’t matter, but I’ve never heard any complaints.
When her eyes widen and she licks her lips, I grin. “Like what you see?”
She nods, and I slowly stroke myself a couple times. Her gaze flicks from my cock to my face like she’s embarrassed to look for too long or it’s dirty or wrong but she can’t resist. Her thighs rhythmically squeeze, stimulating herself, but I want to be the one making her feel good. I trail my hands up to her knees, gently spreading them.
Her dark curls hide her arousal from me, so I kneel on the bed and flutter my fingertips, drawing the wetness up to rub her clit, teasing her with barely there touches. Her hips chase my hand around, and she grinds out a half hiss, half groan of frustration before sagging back on the mattress.
I want to go as hard and fast as I can, but this isn’t a race. Now that we’ve decided to do this, I’m going to do it right, savoring her like she needs to be. It’s been a few months for me, so I want it to last.
I grin. “I never did see to that shoulder. Turn over.”
“But—”
I flip her so her ass is in the air and caress her outer thigh and one cheek. “What is it about this sexy ass you’re ashamed of?” My belly tightens, the sudden blood surge making me ache. “Do you know how hot you are? How much I want you?” She tenses and then relaxes under my hand when I knead the other ass cheek and bend to lick the dimples on her lower back. She tastes salty like the ocean, and she shivers when I gently blow across the dampness I created. “I promise I’ll make you feel good, Mel.”
“Mel’s a b—”
Her words cut off as my teeth sink in.
Her hips twitch. “Did you just bite my ass?”
I softly rub the place I indeed just bit. “Mmm-hmm.” I do the same to the other side, and she moans.
“I think I like it.”
“You think?” I slide a finger inside her and smile. “Yeah, you do.” She gasps and grinds against the bed.
I bend her knee and lift her thigh, replacing my hand with my mouth as she rolls over to her back and grants me complete access.
Her legs tense and kick in slow motion, and her breath stutters. A thin, high-pitched whine resounds in her throat when I finally circle her clit with my tongue and tease it with quick, soft movements.
Her hand flaps toward my head, trying to hold me in place. With that, I know it’s time. I lock my tongue against her and relentlessly la
ve her with deep, steady, hard licks. Her belly tenses until she’s almost sitting up, but she flops back down.
“God, oh my God, Blake.”
It’s a one-sided conversation. My mouth is a little busy.
She rocks her hips harder. She’s close, so I keep it steady, not changing a thing, except for the two fingers I plunge in to pulse against her G-spot.
Her arousal drips down to my palm, and I want to lick her clean, but there’s no way I’m stopping now. I want to show her how beautiful, how amazing she is.
Her toes alternately curl and point, and her body tenses.
Close, so close.
With a wrenching cry, she shatters around my fingers, under my tongue, squeezing in a way that makes me wish I’d been inside her when she came.
Next time.
Chapter 7
Melanie
He’s turned my blood to warm caramel. It oozes slowly through my body, leaving nothing but sweetness pulsing to the beat of my heart. I feel…delicious.
Blake’s hands have nothing on his tongue—and his hands are sinfully devastating. His lips burn a trail, inch by inch, up my belly. Sated as I am, when he reaches my collarbone I’m lit up with the need for more of that mouth. More of those hands.
More of everything.
His body blankets mine, skin on skin. It covers me with his warmth and the weight of a thousand imagined fantasies finally come to life. His dark eyes melt me, and the proximity and the light streaming into the room kick up flecks of gold and green I’ve never noticed before. I’m about to idiotically mention them when he buries his hand in my hair, cradling my head and lifting me into a deep, unhurried kiss. Heat unfurls slowly in my belly, like the petals of an exotic flower I’ve only seen in pictures and never touched until now.
I uncurl under his touch, against his body, opening for more.
How many times did I dream of these hands meandering up my thigh and touching me? How many nights did I lie in bed, tortured by the lilting cadence of his voice just next door in Shawn’s room and pretending Blake was whispering sweet nothings in my ear?
Pretending he was hesitating outside my room, and any moment he’d come inside and gently shut the door if only I wished hard enough.
Padding across my beige carpet, losing articles of clothing as he progressed.
Whispering my name as he sat on the edge of my bed.
Crawling under the covers with me when I lifted the blanket in invitation.
Spooning me from behind, gently petting my skin with those hands that had always seemed too large for his body.
Turning me over and slipping my nightie over my head.
Lips gently meeting mine and teasing them apart while his hands did the same to my legs.
God, I hope there are some condoms in Shelby’s nightstand.
“Unless you’ve got condoms, you should check the nightstand.” My voice comes out breathy and deep. I should have had him check before he got me off, but the postorgasmic haze makes it hard to care about balance. I’m OK with owing him one.
I just want more.
He nuzzles my neck. “Are you in a hurry?”
My nipples tighten. A strange boldness sizzles through my core and cuts off all sense of aloofness. “Blake, I’ve wanted you since the first time I came home and saw you playing video games with Shawn. I’ve basically had ten years of foreplay.”
“Ten years of foreplay, and I only got you off once?” He shakes his head. “I can do better than that.”
“What?”
He drags his teeth across my nipple on his way back down.
“Where are you going?”
He kisses down my belly. “Way I see it, if there are condoms in that drawer, I won’t be able to wait to put one on and sink inside you.” He circles my clit with his tongue. “And if there aren’t any condoms in the drawer, I’ll have to leave and find the nearest store so I can get back here as quickly as I can and sink inside you.” He laps his way down and then slowly back up to my clit. “Either way, it’s going to end the same.”
My head spins. “Sounds like a happy ending to me.”
“Maybe.” His fingers deftly probe my slit, getting coated before sliding back inside. I arch my back. “But if I don’t look in the nightstand, I can keep doing this.”
“What are they, Schrödinger’s condoms?”
He groans and sucks at me. “The fact you know about that”—he moves his fingers faster—“is so damned sexy.”
My response is stolen by the white-hot stabs of pleasure that shiver through me. They undulate out in waves that make my hips shake. I clench around his fingers again, violently, suddenly coming. “Please.”
“You’re so wet, Mel, and you taste so good. I almost don’t want to stop.” He sits up, stark want on his face. “Almost.” He reaches for the nightstand, and I swear to God, I cross my fingers, toes, and labia that there are condoms in that drawer.
Please, please, please.
Blake pulls out a gold foil packet, tears it open, and unrolls the condom over his rigid length. He’s so thick.
The fleeting fearful thought about his size evaporates as his thighs touch mine, nudging them open wide, wider. He reaches down and rubs the tip of his cock around, getting nice and wet before pausing at my entrance.
His gaze smolders when it meets mine, and he gently brushes the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone. His lips barely graze mine.
Then he enters me with a long, fluid thrust, stretching me with his girth. If he were any bigger, it wouldn’t fit, but I’m so turned on that the tight fit is perfect. I whimper and clutch at his back.
He knows I like it, and he circles his hips, languidly grinding against me as he fills me completely.
I wrap an arm around his neck, intent on pulling him down, but he’s so strong that I end up hanging off his neck with my back a few inches off the mattress.
He slides one hand up my spine and down my arm to take my hand, twining our fingers together. He props himself on his elbows, pressing our chests together. With my free arm around his neck, it’s like we’re dancing—only this dance is driven by the rhythm of our hips grinding together, moved by the pulse of his thrusts.
I hold him so tightly that my arms ache. My thighs hurt from clenching his waist so hard.
I drop my legs to the mattress, reaching behind him to grab his ass. My eyes roll back at the way it tenses and flexes.
“God, Mel,” he grinds out. “So goddamn good.”
His hips are tireless, driving into me, pounding my body with a relentless pleasure that weighs my limbs down until all I can do is hold on and meet his thrusts. His tip stimulates my G-spot, and I twitch when new muscles start to tighten deep inside me.
“Blake,” I whisper, instead of screaming every obscenity in my vocabulary. I turn inward as everything stops for an infinite, trembling moment that pierces through my consciousness and shreds me.
Blake’s thrusts become wilder, faster, and he stiffens and moans, nipping my shoulder with his teeth. I come through the other side shaking, sweaty, and feeling like the most beautiful creature who ever lived.
Feeling like my bones have been replaced with warm water.
It was even better than my wildest dreams. Granted, I had zero experience and a rigid imagination back then. But I couldn’t have predicted the pure, unadulterated satisfaction rolling through me right now.
In Shelby’s bed.
Oh God, I used one of her condoms. Who am I even?
Blake pulls out and rolls onto his back beside me, his heavy breaths matching mine. He did most of the work; I don’t know why I’m breathing so hard. I grin.
He nuzzles my neck. “What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking how you probably burned off way more calories than I did.”
He smiles. “That’s a cardio pr
ogram I could get behind.”
“Screw leg day. Every day is genital day.”
He wraps me up and pulls me to his chest. I’m too floaty to resist, though I feel like I should. “I forgot how funny you are.” He gives me a little squeeze.
“I haven’t been funny in years,” I admit.
“I know all your secrets. I know you. You’re an ass-kicking, take-no-prisoners smart-ass.”
“Maybe I was.” I sigh. When was the last time I felt like that?
“You are,” he insists. “You had a comeback for everything. No one could burn you when you were younger. It was awesome. I always loved how you took zero shit from anyone.”
“I did a lot of faking. I was an insecure kid.” I hate how he talks about me like I was something amazing. It makes me feel like even more of a loser now. “I’m still not that confident.”
“Really?” He pushes up to rest on his elbow. “Because today I saw you topless on a nude beach. In public. With plenty of other people around. And you weren’t shy at all. In fact, you were charging around in the water like a mermaid who’d just gotten her legs.”
I giggle. “That was different. I had an idea for an article and didn’t want to forget it.”
He walks the tips of his fingers up my arm. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re a total shrinking violet.”
“I was, um—” His lips press against my neck, and words float away, just out of range. “Blending in.”
“Mel, you couldn’t blend in if you tried. You’re an original, kid.”
“Kid?” I sit up. “Do I look like a kid?”
His gaze darkens as he looks at me. “Fuck no.”
“Good,” I say and settle back against him.
Maybe I’m not the firecracker he always thought I was. But that doesn’t mean I can’t pretend to be like her now. After all, I’m twelve hundred miles from home in a stranger’s house with a man who knows how to use every appendage on his body to its full potential.