Outside, the sound of waves crashing against the rocky shoreline sounded in my ears. Before long, the sky darkened, and exhausted from all the love and laughter, I dozed off, tucked in his brawny arm with my head on his warm taut chest. His heart beat like a lullaby in my ears.
When we awoke, it was almost eight o’clock. Ravenous after a long, mind-blowing shower, we dressed casually in sweats and made dinner together in the enormous, state-of-the-art kitchen. The menu: lobster, champagne, and my mother’s chocolate chip cookies. Blake had bought the lobsters and champagne before picking me up at the airport.
I’d never eaten lobster before, and I had a hard time dropping the live, red-shelled creature into a large pot of warm water that was going to put it to sleep before it boiled away. Blake had told me this was a less cruel way of preparing the delicacy—the lobster would feel no pain—but it didn’t really help.
“Blake, I can’t do it!” I protested, holding the monstrous squirming crustacean in my hand. I was practically in tears.
“Think about some one you hate and name the lobster after him. It helps.” Standing behind me, he pressed his erection into my backside and blew hotly on my neck. “I named mine Springer.”
I visibly shuddered. Though Springer was now behind bars, the mention of him triggered a shiver that zigzagged down my spine. The claws of my lobster snapped, adding further to my distress.
Blake noticed my unease and tenderly kissed the top of my head. “I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have said his name.” He glanced at my agitated lobster. “Do you want me to put your lobster in the pot?”
“No, I want to do it,” I said, recovering and happy that monster was going to boil to death slowly.
Smiling, Blake asked me again, “So what’s your guy’s name?”
I stared at my big, red-clawed shellfish. A name instantly came to my mind. “Bradley.” Yeah, my lobster looked like a Bradley. Dickwick. Laughing with me, Blake held me in his arms as I dropped Bradley into the pot and said adieu.
The lobsters took no time to cook, and we sat down for dinner right at the island counter in the kitchen. Blake tied a silly lobster bib around my neck and showed me how to eat one with the help of a nutcracker and special pick-like fork. The irony of it all was that Bradley tasted so melt-in-your-mouth good with all that melted butter. Blake told me lobster was an aphrodisiac and an ideal source of low-fat protein, much needed for a long night of seduction. I believed him. I watched him expertly crack a claw, and as the snowy white meat poured out, I felt myself heated up and aroused. I took a sip of my bubbly champagne.
At a little before nine, Blake popped another bottle of champagne. He led me to a room off the kitchen and turned on one of the many TVs. Ryan Seacrest was hosting the ball drop at New York’s Times Square where it was going on midnight. On a plush, comfy sofa, I curled up in Blake’s arms and watched the crowd go wild with the countdown. Five… four… three… two… one!
As the ball crashed onto Times Square, Blake’s lips crashed onto mine. The kiss was lush and lingering. Auld Lang Syne filtered in my ear. The original words of the poem.
Should Old Acquaintance be forgot, and never thought upon;
The flames of Love extinguished, and fully past and gone.
Bradley Wick, DDS, was now past, gone and out of my life. There was only one man in the world for me who oddly shared a last name with Robert Burns, my father’s favorite poet, who’d written these words. Blake Burns. His being consumed me and brought passionate tears to my eyes.
“Happy New Year, tiger,” he said softly, gnawing at my lips.
“Happy New Year, Blake,” I repeated, not able to get enough of him.
He made me insatiable and I did the same for him. We craved each other. Placing my hand on his heavy arousal, he breathed, “Let’s end this year with a bang.”
Blake, always full of surprises, had one more in store for me before the New Year dawned. The Jacuzzi. Big enough to accommodate a dozen people, it was built into an expansive deck outside the house.
Our bare bodies buried in the bubbly water, Blake sat close to me. One strapping arm curled around my shoulders while the hand of the other held a lit cigar. The stars and the full moon sparkled overhead in the blackened sky. The steamy water gurgled while Céline Dion piped through hidden speakers, and in the near distance, I could hear the waves of the ocean softly ebb and flow. The intense warm jets of water sprayed my upper back and between my thighs, feeling so tingly good. I was in love, lust, and paradise. It couldn’t get more magical than this.
“Tiger, do you mind if I smoke this cigar?” Blake asked, already blowing out a puff of smoke. “It’s kind of a New Year’s tradition.”
I inhaled. The smell of the tobacco mixing with the salty sea air was heady. To my surprise, I loved it. I took the cigar from him and put it to my mouth. I inhaled and choked.
“No problem,” I coughed out, reaching for my flute of champagne. I took a calming sip.
“Stop showing off,” he laughed, taking the cigar back in his hand. He inhaled another puff and I glared at him. Mesmerized by the way he held the cigar between his long fingers and sucked on the tip, drawing in his cheeks and lowering his eyes. Equally sexy was the way he pursed his kissable lips and blew out the smoke.
“You know, baby. My father once told me a fine cigar is like a fine woman. You have to warm her before you devour her.”
His words made my heart flutter. “Blake, when was the first time you knew you loved me?” I asked as a ring of smoke mingled with the steam from the Jacuzzi.
He placed the cigar on a close-by ashtray and turned to face me. His eyes glinted in the moonlight. Damn he was beautiful. And oh so sexy. He twirled my damp ponytail with his hand.
“It could have been love at first sight. When you kissed me blindfolded at my club. Something changed in me. Then after the Springer thing, I knew if something happened to you, I couldn’t live. You’re my air, baby. I need you to breathe.”
A trail of sparks blazed through my body. He loved me right from the beginning. He repeated my question.
Tracing his kissable lips, I said, “Vegas. When I danced with you.” Ironically, a Céline Dion version of “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,” the song we danced to, was piping through the hidden speakers. Maybe he’d intentionally programmed it. I shifted a little and the powerful jet beneath me stimulated my clit.
He tugged at my ponytail. “It took you that long?” His voice was playfully miffed.
I twisted a smile. No, it hadn’t. The truth: I think I’d loved him the minute my mouth set down on his in that game of Truth or Dare too. I’d felt the earth move in my heart. Maybe it was lust. It didn’t matter because I wasn’t going to tell him.
We imbibed some champagne and glanced up at the starry sky. My head rested on his rugged chest.
“Jennifer, do you know why the moon and the stars shine?”
I shook my head. The words of the beautiful song were affecting me. The jets were affecting me. He was affecting me. Desire was bubbling inside me. “Why?”
Because they’re making love to the sky.”
“Lighting it up,” I replied dreamily, my eyes focused on the many constellations above us.
He drew me closer. Passion sparked in his eyes. “Jennifer McCoy, you are my moon and shining star. My universe.”
In a breath, I was sitting on top of him. Riding him to the heavens. Lighting him up. Lighting myself up.
We came together like comets flaring and whispered, in unison, three celestial words.
“I love you.”
Chapter 12
Jennifer
I woke up to the sound of crashing waves and squawking gulls. Blinking my eyes open, I was still nestled in naked bliss against Blake’s warm chest. One arm was wrapped around me, the other draped across the duvet. I swiveled my head and gazed at him. God, he was beautiful. His lush lips were parted slightly and strands of his bedhead hair fell forward onto his forehead. The morning sunlight b
eamed through the bedroom’s wraparound windows and cast him in a golden haze. I couldn’t help tracing my finger around his lightly stubbled jaw. He stirred and then his long-lashed eyelids flittered. Opening one eye at a time, he met my gaze.
“Hi.” His raspy morning voice was sexy as sin as was the adorable lopsided smile that accompanied it.
“Hi,” I echoed. I sounded like a shy kindergartener meeting her teacher on the first day of school. I just couldn’t believe all this was real. That this was happening to me.
Keeping his half-closed, contemplative eyes trained on me, he circled my lips with his index finger. The ticklish sensation sent a jolt of tingles to my already heated center. On the second rotation, my lips clamped down on his deft finger and sucked it. A sound, something between a hum and a moan, filled the back of my throat.
“Oh, baby,” he moaned back. “You’re fucking turning me on.”
Expecting him to fuck me on the spot, he bolted up to a sitting position, taking me with him. He massaged my shoulders and breathed against my neck. “C’mon. Let’s take a shower together.”
With a smack of his lips against mine, he rolled off the bed and rose to his feet. My eyes traveled down his swoon-worthy body, with its chiseled six pack and perfect pelvic V that led to his rippled thighs and outrageous thick length. My gaze stayed glued on the latter. To say he was endowed was an understatement.
“What are you staring at?” That cocky smile flashed on his ravishing face.
“You.” I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment and impulsively flung the covers over my head.
With a swoosh, the covers came off. He was hovering above me. All six foot three of his manly gorgeousness.
“You can stare at me all you want in the shower. Now, come on.”
Before I could say a word, I was in his arms, being carried away to our first New Year’s Day activity.
The guest bathroom was amazing. I’d never seen one like it except in those high-priced design magazines I peeked at while waiting in the supermarket checkout line. It was seriously bigger than my living room—all creamy marble with travertine floors and state-of-the-art fixtures. There was even a chaise lounge and a fireplace. A huge freestanding porcelain tub stood before a window overlooking the ocean, and by another, stood a glass-encased shower stall, the size of my bedroom. In fact, bigger.
Blake opened the shower door and set me down. He turned on several faucets and powerful jets of water sprayed me from everywhere. Blake drew me against him, my back to his chest. I could feel his erection against me.
“Are you going to fuck me?” I asked as he soaped me up and nuzzled my shoulders.
“Not until I do this first, tiger.”
The soap fell out of his hand onto the slick marble floor, and I suddenly felt a slippery fingertip at my backdoor. I let out a yelp.
“Have you ever been touched here?” he asked.
“No,” I gasped. Seriously, did he even have to ask?
“I want you to relax. It’s just my finger. We’ll take it slow and easy. And I’m going to make it so you love it.” He kissed the nape of my neck and then purred. “This is all about you.”
I tensed as he slowly slid his finger up my passage. A groan escaped my throat. And my body trembled.
“Does it hurt?”
“Just a little.” Honestly, it was a weird, good kind of hurt. I just wasn’t used to it.
“That’s normal. You’re so fucking tight. Don’t worry, tiger. I’m going to loosen you up.”
He slid his finger, lubricated from the soap, back down. As he gently pushed it back up, a finger of his other hand descended on my clit. He began to vigorously rub it.
“Oh, Blake!” I moaned, arching my body.
“Does that help?”
“Oh, yes.” It was true. The divine pleasure between my thighs was allowing me to loosen up and enjoy what was going on behind.
“That’s what I thought. A new year. A new sensation.”
In my mind’s eye, I could see the sexy smirk on his face. To be truthful, I’d never experienced a sensation like this. Though I’d had the little vibrating egg up my butt, this was different. I squeezed my eyes shut and let myself soak in the intensity of the pleasure. I was getting used to his finger in my butt. The unfamiliar yet fulfilling fullness. He continued to butt finger me and rub my clit for several minutes. I could still feel his hard length pressing against me. Little whimpers spilled from my mouth as he breathed into my ear.
“Okay, baby, now we’re going to take it up a notch.” I bucked against him as he removed his deft finger from my clit and plunged it into my pussy.
“Oh my God!” I shrieked. He was pussy fingering me and butt fingering in tandem. The pressure was insane, especially when his fingers almost met. I was falling apart at the seams. My orgasm crescendoed. I couldn’t hold back. My body shook against his as I screamed my release. I felt like I’d broken into a million beautiful pieces.
Removing his fingers, Blake held me steady and nibbled my neck. “My father always says it’s better to give than receive. Now, baby, I’m going to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow.”
It was the most outrageous shower I’d ever taken. Each time Blake fucked me, he brought me to a place I’d never been. Making me feel glorious sensations that were new to me and titillating. I never knew before what my body was capable of. We’d ended the year with a bang, and now we’d started the new one with an even bigger one.
Buzzing all over, I wrapped myself in the thick white Gloria’s Secret terrycloth robe that Gloria had thoughtfully left for me. I towel dried my hair as Blake, with just a towel wrapped dangerously low around his narrow hips, splashed on some GS men’s cologne. It smelled divine—spicy with a hint of vanilla. He glanced at himself in the mirror and ruffled his hand through his wet hair. I guess he wasn’t going to blow dry his hair or shave. The extra layer of stubble that surrounded his kissable lips made him even sexier.
“Hey, I’m going to make us some breakfast. Just put on a bathing suit and meet me downstairs.”
“Are we going to the beach?”
“That’s the plan,” he said with a wink.
“I can’t wait.” I was truly excited. It looked like perfect weather to catch some rays and jump some waves.
After a quick kiss, Blake slipped out of the bathroom. I found an elastic and gathered my damp hair into a ponytail. I brushed my teeth and doused myself with the Gloria’s Secret SPF 30 moisturizer that was sitting on the marble counter beside a whole slew of beauty products. Gloria was so generous and thoughtful. I made myself a mental note to send her a handwritten thank-you note when I got home along with a gift. Maybe a picture frame or something cute for the twins.
It was actually good to have a little alone time apart from Blake. I studied my reflection in the mirror and smiled. My complexion glowed. And not just from the long, hot shower. It was deeper than that. I’d never looked so happy. Blake Burns had not only awoken my sexuality, but he’d also lit up my heart. Bradley had never made me feel this way. Our relationship was rooted in friendship and routine. And in the end, deceit. My relationship with Blake was rooted in passion, adventure, and honesty. We were quickly becoming best friends as well as lovers. The deep-seated love I felt for him couldn’t be measured or put into words. I so hoped we’d figure out a way to move forward once we settled back to work. Having this gorgeous sex god only a thin wall away from me was daunting. I shuddered at the thought. But as he always said, where there’s a will, there’s a way.
Back in the bedroom, I donned one of the string bikinis Gloria had given me. The black one. It fit me perfectly, the halter-top exposing my pert breasts just the right amount and the high-cut bottom making my long, lean legs look even longer. I slipped my bare feet into the sparkly flip-flops and, at the last minute, threw on one of Blake’s collarless white shirts over my bathing suit.
I could smell the intoxicating scent of him on my body. The high thread count Egyptian cotton felt delicious ag
ainst my skin. The shirttail trailed to my mid thighs and I left it unbuttoned. Oddly, as sexy as the Gloria’s Secret lingerie was, wearing Blake’s shirt made me feel sexier. It was as if I was part of him and he was part of me.
The aroma of fresh coffee mixed with something delicious and drifted in the air. I inhaled deeply. Breakfast. My hungry stomach growled.
I galloped downstairs and found Blake in the kitchen. Clad in navy blue swim shorts, he was standing before a built-in grill with his bare back to me, flipping pancakes. There was something so sexy about watching a man cook. Especially someone as sexy as Blake.
I inhaled again through my nose, absorbing the mouthwatering mixture of aromas. “Mmm. Everything smells so good!”
“Hope you like pancakes and sausage,” he said as he caught the pancake he’d just flipped on his spatula.
“How do you do that?” I ambled over to him. My shoulder blade rubbed against his flexed bicep.
“It’s easy. Let me show you.”
He stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around me. Skimming my breasts, he put the spatula into my right hand and slipped it under one of the pancakes. With my wrist in one hand and a breast cupped in the other, he said, “Okay on the count of three, toss the pancake into the air, keep your eyes on it, and the spatula steady just above the grill. Ready?”
I nodded, concentrating on the task at hand. It wasn’t easy when he was tweaking my nipple beneath the fabric of my shirt and getting me hot and bothered yet again.
“Good. One… two… three.”
I did as he instructed, and trained my unblinking eyes on the pancake I’d flipped. Bingo! It landed smack on the spatula. “Yes!” I shouted out triumphantly.
“Nice one,” replied Blake as he helped me transfer the pancake to a nearby platter. It was stacked with perfectly round golden pancakes.
THAT MAN: Holiday Box Set Books 1-5 Page 30