Naked Love

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  His breathing picks up and he groans when he feels my fingers wiggle around. “Makayla, what are you doing?”

  Leaning toward him again, I whisper in his ear, “You might want to keep your eyes on the road, or better yet, pull over as soon as you can.”

  His gaze falls to his lap just as I successfully unbutton his jeans and begin pulling down his zipper. “Makayla, really, what are you doing?”

  Tickled that I am able to shock him, I glance up from under my lashes. “Cam, you’re a smart guy. I think you know what I’m doing.”

  The noise he makes is something between a moan and a growl.

  Seductively, I whisper, “You don’t know me well enough yet, but I never let an item go unchecked on a list if I can help it.”

  “Undressing me in my Jeep is on your list?” he manages to ask.

  By this point I am kissing his neck, his jawline, and the outer edge of his ear. “No, it isn’t, but giving a guy the best blow job of his life is.”

  “A guy?”

  “You, Cam. You. I’m going to give you the best blow job of your life.”

  Practically unable to speak, he mutters, “Didn’t you promise me that once before?”

  “I did, but you ran away before I delivered. Now I’m going to put my money where my mouth is.”

  Almost incoherently, he laughs, “I’ll be happy for you to put your mouth on my cock, but I’m not sure I want to be a check mark.”

  My fingers fumble and falter as I manage to get his cock out. It is thick and long, glistening at the head with clear, sweet pre-cum. Dipping my head to taste him, I lick it clean. Once. Twice. Three times.

  He cries out, low and aching. “Okay, hell, I don’t care—go ahead and use me to check that box off your list.”

  Outside the weather is cool. In here it’s hot and steamy. “That’s really generous of you to let me use your cock for my list.”

  He laughs. “Now that the issue of having my cock is settled, how about we wait until we get home?”

  Pleasure arcs through me hot and electric as soon as I grip him at his base. “No. I don’t think I’m going to wait.”

  “Fuck.” He quickly moves from the outermost lane to the side and reduces his speed.

  More than ready, I drag his cock along my lips.

  The car jerks and he pulls over.

  Sitting up, I look around. We’re in an empty parking lot. This is perfect. Unbuckling my seat belt, I glance over at him. The night is dark, but the moon overhead sheds enough of a glow that I can see him. His back is pushed against the seat, his lids are slightly hooded, and his eyes are overflowing with desire.

  My heart skips a little. I’m doing this. Really doing this. Without any more thought, I reach over and trail a finger up the hardness of his belly muscles to circle a nipple covered in soft fabric.

  His whole body shaking, he trembles and moans from just my touch and I feel powerful. Very powerful. With his mouth open just a little, I get a glimpse of his teeth and tongue. That look is beyond sexy and his name escapes my lips with a moan of my own.

  Fast as sin, his hand goes to the back of my neck and he yanks me to him. Fingers tangle and tug in my hair as his lips brush across mine, whispering filthy words of lust. He draws me closer. I bite his lower lip, catching it between my teeth and pulling until he jerks back.

  I breathe his air. Neither of us moves for a few long moments; we just stare at each other. Seven long nights I’ve thought about him. About touching him like this. Kissing him again. Wrapping my mouth around his cock. I wonder if he has, too.

  Beneath my now-flattened palm, I can feel Cam’s heart thud faster and faster. “Come here,” he demands, in that low and rasping voice that soon might send me hurtling over the edge of orgasm.

  A thrill runs through me. Excitement bounces and moves across my skin. The almost feral tone enough in itself to launch me right over.

  Those hips of his jerk upright as soon as my tongue darts to that delicious tip, circling it just once for another taste before skimming my mouth down his cock and back up. Down and back up. Then once again.

  His fingers tug my hair a little harder this time, and when I go down on him this time, I use my teeth.

  Fueled by that spark of desire surging between us, he thrusts into my mouth. Letting my muscles go lax, I take him in, take him so deep, all the way to the back of my throat.

  “Oh fuck,” he cries out, his voice deep. Hard.

  Moving my mouth, I take him again. Then once more.

  As I ease his hot, thick flesh into my mouth, then out, I can hear my own erratic breathing, and it matches his.

  A hand soothes down my back and dips inside my dress. Those long fingers caress my bare cheeks and then slide along the seam of my thong, pressing, applying a little pressure along the way.

  No one has ever touched me there. Not like he is doing. Completely off limits up until now, I never expected to be so turned on by it.

  My clit pulsing, aching, ready to burst into orgasm, I clench his base with one hand and slide my mouth down, down, down. Muscles relaxing, I let go of my hold on him and find myself deep-throating him. Who would have thought it to be a real thing?

  Letting go of my head, Cam grabs my free hand and starts to suck hard on my thumb. “You’re so fucking hot, Makayla.”

  Passion is bubbling over inside me as I take him in my mouth as far as I can. When his tip hits the very back of my throat, I keep it there. Moving my mouth just slightly, this time I use my teeth, not my lips.

  “Oh, fuck, oh fuck.” His breathing is hoarse.

  Clenching my thighs together, I think I might just come without a single touch. See, I didn’t need that damn vibrator after all.

  Pushing him even farther, with my tongue, I continue to lick circles around his base. I feel him shudder. Once. Twice. Three times.

  His body’s reaction, his groans, his heavy breathing, they’re all stoking the fire already blazing through my body. I want this to be the best he’s ever had, so I suck harder and move faster. I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter with every passing movement—both his and mine.

  With the loudest of groans, he tugs on my thong, and it causes a pressure against my clit that makes me feel like comets are streaming down on us.

  Taking him all the way in and pulling him out as I rasp my teeth gently against his long, hard length, I do it over and over with everything I have.

  “Oh fuck, Makayla,” he curses and his body stiffens before relaxing. If I could see him, I’d bet he’s about to lose control.

  Sliding my lips down him again, I find his balls and fondle them.

  “Oh fuck, Makayla,” he repeats. Groaning loudly, he slides his hand across my back, muttering my name over and over.

  His breath quickens as I rock my head up and down. His hand grabs my ass so tight, I know I’ll have bruises. I don’t care.

  Hearing Cam suck in a few quick breaths through his teeth, I know he’s close to coming. When I flick my tongue across his tip, circling it, sucking it, he hisses, “Fuck, it’s going to happen. I’m going to come. You have to stop now.”

  “No, I want to taste you. Swallow you. Take all you have to give me.”

  Cam’s nearly panting when his body stills and his muscles clench. I can taste the salty sweetness flowing down my throat as I swallow. Taking a few moments to let him catch his breath, I run my hands up and down his thighs.

  Raising my head, I wipe my mouth with my hand and I can’t help but grin at him. His breathing slowly returns to normal. Content, I lick my lips, still able to taste him, and his eyes widen.

  “Holy fuck, I think I’m seeing stars,” he mutters.

  I give him a quick wink. “Good. Now let’s hurry up and get back to Maggie’s, because I really need you to fuck me.”

  “Want to do that again as I drive?” he asks with a quirk of his lips. “It was definitely the best blow job I ever had in my life.”

  If I weren’t boneless right now, I’d be jumpin
g for joy.

  I did it.

  18

  Pillow Talk

  Cam

  The most commonly used sexual position in the world is the missionary style. I learned this in the eighth grade when I Googled it. I can’t even say why I typed those letters into the search engine, not out loud, anyway. Just the thought of my parents doing it makes me want to barf.

  Although I usually avoid that position if I can, tonight I go for it. Face-to-face and skin-to-skin with Makayla is exactly what I want. Need. Crave. Of course, the ability to control penetration depth and speed of thrusting is an added bennie. Not why I picked it at all.

  The downside to this position is it makes it more difficult to hold off ejaculation due to the intense friction and deep thrusting. No worries, though—I have that little issue solved. Devious mind that I have, I had inconspicuously unplugged her vibe and slipped it under a pillow on her bed.

  Now, feeling like I might come way too soon, I push up to create space between us, so I can sneak it in to help bring her to orgasm along with me.

  The screech she makes as soon as I turn it on, followed by the thud of the vibe against the wall, puts an end to that solution faster than I had anticipated.

  May the pink vibe rest in peace.

  It’s cool, don’t worry; I have more tricks up my sleeve, or naked ass in this case. Not literally. The thought of that seriously gives me chills.

  Almost urgently, I raise her left leg so her knee is level with my right shoulder and tell her to keep her other leg flat on the bed. Then I thrust toward the inner thigh of her raised leg. This adjustment forces tighter penetration and more clitoral pressure. It’s brilliant, really.

  Everything about us right now is hot. I thrust, faster and faster. Soon, I can feel that sweet pussy of hers squeezing against my cock. She starts to come, shouting my name. I’m right there, calling out her name. With my face twisting, eyes slamming shut, and fingers clutching her body, I come so fucking hard. When I’m spent, I arch my back and roll onto the pillow beside her.

  That cute little moan she makes has me opening my eyes a moment later, and I smile at her. When she smiles back, I reach to tangle my hand in her hair. I tug it, pulling her close to kiss my mouth. “That was amazing,” I whisper.

  “It was,” she sighs, settling her head beside me.

  Lazy waves of the lustful aftermath lull me, but I can’t let it pull me under—not yet, anyway; I have business to tend to. Disengaging from her, I go into the bathroom to discard the condom, ultra-smooth this time. Since we were at her place, she had no choices, and wasn’t happy about it when I pulled two of the same ones from my wallet. Next time, I’ll be more prepared, I told her. She winked and told me variety was the spice of life. I’d give her variety all right.

  Post-sex sleepiness lodges in my eyes and all I want to do is crawl back into that big, soft bed of hers with the satiny sheets, pull her to me, and fall asleep.

  When I come out of the bathroom, Makayla is standing at the foot of the bed in a tight, super-tight, I might add, tank top and lacy panties, both black, both see-through, and both hot as fuck.

  Mere moments ago, I might have thought I was tired, but my cock has a different idea, already rising again just minutes after coming. This is fucking nuts. With her anywhere near me, I seem to walk around with a constant hard-on.

  As soon as she sees me, she jerks out her arm. That’s when I see my clothes hooked in her hand.

  I furrow my brows. “What are those for?”

  Practically expressionless, she tilts her head and gives me that sexy low-lidded stare I like so much. “So you don’t walk home naked.”

  My surprise has to be evident on my face. “You’re kicking me out?”

  For some reason I just thought I’d be staying.

  Poker-faced still, she seems to be contemplating my question. “I wouldn’t call it that,” she answers.

  After a few seconds of silence, I ask, “What if I refuse to leave?”

  Instead of answering me, she whirls around to face the bed, her hand flying to her mouth and a giggle escaping her throat. “Then I guess you can stay,” she manages with all-out laughter.

  Yeah, she got me.

  Narrowing my eyes at her, even though she can’t see me, I have a choice to make. Call her bluff and leave or provide the ultimate payback. Of course, I choose the latter.

  Lunging for her, I tackle her to the bed, flip her around, and pin her wrists over her head. “That was mean, just down-right mean.”

  She bites down on her lip and looks up at me. “I couldn’t help myself, but the look on your face was priceless.”

  I take both wrists in one hand and use my other to find her belly. “Payback is a bitch, baby.”

  That smile. Fuck, that smile. “No, stop. I’m ticklish.”

  “You shouldn’t have told me that,” I murmur and tickle her from under her arms to way down below her belly.

  “Stop, please—that was payback for the vibrator.”

  “Say, ‘Camden Waters is a sex god,’ and I’ll stop.”

  That body of hers bounces, that laughter gets higher and higher, and I feel a strange something going on in my chest because of it. “Mercy!” she calls out.

  Leaning down, so our noses are almost touching, I breathe hot against her lips. “Say, ‘Camden Waters is a sex god.’”

  If there were ever a master tickler, it would be me. Just ask my sister. I used to make her so mad with the things she had to say to get me to stop. None of them sexual in nature, of course, but things that pissed her off, like, “My brother is always right,” or “My brother is the best ever.” It was so much fun. This is equally so, and then some.

  Makayla snorts, tears falling from her eyes, and then finally it comes. “Camden Waters is a sex god.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

  “Camden Waters is a sex god!” she shouts.

  Satisfied, I stop. “I think everyone knows now.”

  She punches me, and I grab her arm again, this time tugging her to the head of the bed and pulling her snug to me, her back to my front.

  Happy like this, I bend to pull the sheet around us and then kiss between her shoulder blades. She tucks her hand under her cheek.

  My hand drifts up and down her hip, moving the sheet in a motion like waves rolling in the ocean.

  Some time passes and then Makayla turns around to rest her head on my shoulder.

  I kiss her hair. “I don’t know what this is between us, but I can’t get you out of my head.”

  “I don’t know either, but I feel it too.”

  That is all that needs to be said for now. “Good.”

  Her fingertips dance lightly across my skin and soon she traces the B on my chest. She’s never asked me about it, but I know she must wonder.

  The words just come out. “We called ourselves the ABC’s—Amelia, Brandon, and Camden. Brandon was the oldest. He was always the fun-loving one. I was the middle child and the responsible one. And Amelia, well, she was our little princess.”

  Makayla’s hand pauses for the barest of blinks before continuing to stroke my chest. “Brandon, is he B?”

  I nod my head. “Yes. He died just over a year ago.”

  Her head lifts to look at me. “Tell me about him.”

  “He was always the life of the party. Everybody loved him. He had that kind of gravitational pull, you know?”

  She nods in understanding.

  “It made everyone always want to be around him. But as the years went on, he just refused to grow up and be responsible. That was always my role—taking care of the three of us while our parents argued their way through life.”

  Makayla listens without comment.

  “That’s what fucking pisses me off the most. All he had to do was talk to me. Tell me what he was feeling. I would have helped him any way I could. Instead, now every time I look in the fucking mirror, I wish I hadn’t gotten this damn tattoo because it only reminds me how pissed I a
m at him.”

  Her head lifts, but again she says nothing.

  I close my eyes. “The night you saw me in Chinatown was the night of his memorial service. One that my father insisted on having to ease his own conscience or put on a show for his friends, who knows. I was out just trying to forget about it.”

  She moves closer to me. “Why? You didn’t want to go?”

  My eyes fly open. “Fuck no. I hate to go to any of my father’s dog-and-pony shows. I went for my mother and sister.”

  “What about for Brandon?” she asks.

  “I already told you—I’m fucking mad at him.”

  “But Cam, he’s your brother.”

  “Was,” I clarify.

  “No, Cam, he is. Just because he isn’t alive doesn’t change that.”

  “Fuck that. He overdosed and left me. Left me because he couldn’t deal with our prick of a father or cope with the demands of growing up. Unlike me, Brandon never stood up to our father. I didn’t realize working for our father was making him so unhappy. If I had, I would have gone to bat for him against the prick.” I pause for a moment before adding, “I just never knew how bad things were.”

  “Was he a drug addict?”

  “Yes, but I never knew it. I only thought he liked to party. He was good at hiding his addiction.”

  Both of her elbows on my chest, she asks, “But Cam, that’s what addicts do—hide it.”

  “But I was his brother; I should have seen it. Why couldn’t he have talked about his condition with me? We were best friends, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to burden you?”

  I sit up, wanting to be done with this conversation.

  She wraps her arms around me. When I don’t recoil, she tightens her hold. “It isn’t your fault. I don’t have to know all the circumstances or exactly what happened, but I know that addictions have a way of taking over someone’s life. And sometimes it’s hard for us on the outside to understand that.”

  Getting up on my knees, I turn around to face her. “I’ve heard it all before,” I tell her.

  “Then you’re not listening. Bad things happen, Cam. And I get that right now you hate your brother for dying, but he didn’t do it to you. He died from a drug overdose. And maybe that’s what you should think about because I am certain he wouldn’t want you blaming yourself.”