by Tracy Wolff
She walked him backward until the back of his knees hit her bed, and then she gave him a shove. He landed on the bed and she followed him, straddling his thighs as she skimmed her lips hotly over his mouth, across his cheek, up to his ear. “I want you,” she whispered. “Now.”
Her tongue darted out, licked his right nipple, darted back in. She did the same to his left, to his collarbone and rib cage and navel even as her fingers fumbled frantically with the hook in the waistband of his pants. But she was too aroused, was going too fast, and she couldn’t get it to release. “Help me,” she pleaded as her body spun more and more out of her control. She was nearly sobbing with frustrated desire.
“Kara, sweetheart. It’s okay.” He squeezed her hands gently, then laid them on the bed on either side of him. “We don’t need to rush.”
He didn’t understand. She was desperate. Determined. She didn’t want to think or analyze or worry. She just wanted to feel. Just wanted to hold him in her arms and pretend, for this one, perfect moment, that everything was fine. If she slowed down, if she gave herself time to think, she would remember that this was just a one-off for both of them and it would ruin everything.
“What if I want to rush?” she asked him teasingly, her hand dipping down to stroke the hard length of him through his pants.
* * *
AT THE FIRST TOUCH OF HER hand, Lucas’s eyes rolled back in his head. Lust—hot, demanding, all-consuming—roared through him and he forgot the source of his caution. He cupped her face in his hands and pulled it down so that he could ravage her lips with his as he explored every centimeter of that sexy, sultry mouth.
He reached for her breasts and was frustrated to find them still covered by the silk and sequins of her dress. He wanted to touch her, to feel every inch of her lush curves pressed against his. He had to feel her. He grabbed the bottom of Kara’s dress and yanked it over her head in one fluid motion. He tossed it behind him, not paying any attention to where it landed as his eyes fastened on her nipple through the pale pink lace of her bra.
He felt like he’d die if he didn’t work his way inside her soon, but at the same time he wanted to touch her everywhere, kiss her everywhere. He had held back long enough. With a groan he wrapped his arms around Kara and flipped her onto her back.
Desperate for a taste of her, he lowered his mouth to her nipple, sucked it gently through the lace, rolled it between his teeth and lips and tongue. She went wild, bucking as she reached for his pants and shoved them halfway down his legs, her breathing ragged as she finally succeeded in freeing him.
He groaned as her fingers fastened on him. He thrust against her hand, once, twice, then did his best to slow down. It would be months before he saw her again, months before he could be with her like this again and he wanted to savor every second of their time together. But Kara’s passion was a powerful aphrodisiac, as infectious as it was out of control. Suddenly, he was desperate to feel her, to taste her, with nothing between them. He worked feverishly on her bra even as he continued to lick and suck her through the fragile lace.
When finally, finally, the clasp gave way beneath his unusually clumsy fingers, Kara shuddered beneath him. Her hands tangled in his hair as she pulled his mouth down to her, even as she arched up to reach him.
He played with her for long seconds, his tongue and fingers roaming over every inch of her breasts, driving both of them completely insane. When he paused, lifting his head to look at her body, she cried out. The sharp little sound ratcheted his tension up higher. And when she reached between them, circled the hard silky length of him once again and slowly, slowly, began to stroke, he thought he would lose his mind.
Groaning, he arched against her as she rubbed her thumb over his head, and nearly lost it completely when she brought her thumb to her mouth and licked up the drop of wetness she’d taken from him. If she kept this up, he was going to go off before he ever got inside her.
In self-defense, he captured her hands and held them above her head as he kissed his way down her body, praying that he wouldn’t lose it completely. He hadn’t been this unsure of his ability to hold on since high school and he wanted—needed—this to last. For this to be as good for Kara as it was for him.
Her eyes blazed up at him, and he felt their verdant green could see all the way to his soul. For long seconds, he just stayed there, looking into her eyes. But eventually he had to look away—the connection he felt with her was too powerful to bear. Everything there was between them—everything that came before and everything that was still to come—seemed to be right there for him to see. He wondered, and worried, if she was experiencing the same thing.
He licked his way slowly down her rib cage to her belly button. His tongue darted out, teased the slight indentation of her navel before moving over to her right hip and the tattoo of a small pink-and-white magnolia that rested there. He’d been at the tattoo shop fifteen years before when she’d gotten it. The girl who had gone before her had cried and whimpered her way through, but not Kara. She’d cracked jokes the whole time until the tattoo artist had to tell her to stop for fear he’d mess up because he was laughing too hard.
He took a moment, traced the petals with his tongue. Fifteen years ago he could never have imagined that one day he’d be here, doing this. As he stroked his tongue against the very center of the flower, she giggled, twisted left and right, and he smiled as he moved even lower and pressed his face against her mons. She was ticklish. He’d never known that about her, but somehow it fit.
It was strange, making love to his best friend for the first time. In some ways, he knew everything about her and in others, she was brand-new to him. He liked the dichotomy more than he ever would have imagined possible.
She squirmed a little, bringing her sex to rest against his mouth and he couldn’t resist. He flicked his tongue out, ran it over and around her clit before sweeping down to explore her sweet folds. She was sweet here, too, and he spent a few minutes savoring the taste and feel of her against his lips.
Soon, too soon for him, she fisted her hands in his hair. “Now,” she breathed, her entire body taut with desire. “Please, Lucas. I need you now.”
He wanted to put her off, to spend more time exploring her glorious, giving body, but he knew he was as close as she was. If he waited much longer, it would be over before he ever got inside her.
After giving her one last lingering kiss, he licked his way up her body, paying particular attention to the sensitive spots he’d found on his way down—the curve of her hip, the bend of her elbow, the hollow of her throat.
“Lucas!” The hands in his hair grew rough as she moaned his name, her hips bucking frantically beneath him. Her voice was high, sharp, and he knew that he had pushed her as far as she could go. He wanted to do so much more, and it killed him that he wasn’t going to be able to. That in a couple hours he was going to have to say goodbye to her for God-only-knows how many months.
The thought darkened his mood, but she didn’t give him time to think, to brood. Her hands clutched at his shoulders as she pulled him up and over her. “Kiss me,” she whispered, gently resting her hands on his face and pulling him closer.
This kiss was different than those that came before—hungrier, but also more tender, and he gave himself over completely to the feel, the scent, the taste of her. She turned her head, exhaled, and he entered her in one smooth stroke.
She called his name again and he had started to move before it hit him that h
e’d forgotten to wear a condom. He started to pull out, but she clutched at him, begged him to stay.
“I need to protect you,” he whispered, cursing the fact that his pants were across the room.
“I’m on the pill.”
He sent a swift word of thanks to fate, the heavens, whatever was responsible for this fortuitous turn of events and then he plunged into her, hard and fast.
She screamed, orgasmed, and as her body clutched at him in a sweet, powerful rhythm, she almost took him with her. He gritted his teeth, fought his back and kept moving as her legs wrapped around his hips, her heels digging into the small of her back.
“More,” she murmured, her hands twisting in the bedsheets. He grinned down at her despite the freight train of sensation roaring through him. She looked amazing, felt amazing. And he loved it. Loved knowing she wanted him as much as he did her, loved knowing even more that it was he who had made her look like that. Who had satisfied her.
And still, he wanted to give her more. Leaning down, he drew her nipple into his mouth, rolled it under his tongue as he continued moving inside of her. He was close, so close, that he was sure he’d explode any second. But he wanted her to come again before he did. He needed to see her face as it ripped through her, feel her body as satisfaction roared through both of them.
She was moaning, pleading, her hands grabbing onto his as her body shuddered over and over again. “Please, Lucas. Please.”
“That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me again. I have to feel you.” His voice was low, deep, as he moved faster inside of her and he could barely get the words out with the way his breath was sawing in and out of his chest.
Kara let out a low, keening cry, her body arching beneath his as a second orgasm ripped through her. He rode her through it, took her higher and higher until nothing existed but the intense, rolling pleasure that existed between them. He grabbed her hips, tilted them until she was fully open to him. And then, with a groan of ecstasy, he let himself go.
Satisfaction swept through him, powerful, intense, never ending. For long moments, the world around him went black and he was lost, totally, to the crazy pleasure of making love to Kara.
CHAPTER SIX
WHEN IT WAS OVER, WHEN the storm that had wrapped itself around them had finally passed, Kara and Lucas lay sprawled on their backs in the center of her bed. Her head was cushioned by his biceps, her left leg tangled with his right.
Her body was limp, satisfied, overloaded with pleasure. And her head? Her head was swimming. When they’d been in college, she’d heard a few girls in the dorm talk about making love with Lucas. They’d made it sound like the most amazing thing in the world. She’d thought they were exaggerating—how great could sex with an eighteen-year-old guy be? But now she thought that the girls hadn’t been effusive enough. Sex with Lucas had been…intense. Body numbing. Earth-shattering. All encompassing.
It scared her even as it thrilled her. For the first time in years, she didn’t know what came next. It was a strange, exhilarating feeling.
Beside her, Lucas finally stirred. “Did we really just do that?” There was a dazed look in his eyes, as if he were waking from a dream. Or an all-out amnesiac fugue. Kara wasn’t sure which, but she knew exactly how he felt.
“I think we did.” She licked her lips, which felt cracked and swollen, in an effort to get some moisture into the desert that was her mouth. She could still taste him there and maybe she would have lingered over that fact if she wasn’t so thirsty. For a moment, she contemplated getting up and getting a glass of water. In the end she didn’t move, deciding it was too much effort. Then again, at that moment, breathing was almost too much effort.
Lucas chose that moment to groan. It was a low, hoarse sound and though it was inarticulate, still somehow managed to sum up much of what she was feeling. She wondered dazedly how he’d managed to do that.
There was a part of her that wanted to stay here—right here—forever, basking in the afterglow of Lucas’s lovemaking. But the practical, organized part of her was already making plans.
Going over everything she had to pack.
Running through all the known causes of Ebola.
Trying to figure out everything she could possibly need while in Eritrea.
Too bad she didn’t know why she was doing it. Whether it was because she really needed to get started packing or if she wanted to find a way to distance herself from Lucas. Not that she wanted distance, exactly. It was just that she was afraid he would—
“That was…” Lucas stopped, blew out a long breath.
She froze, her mind spinning as she waited for him to say something, anything, about what had happened. How was it? she wanted to demand. Did the world shake for you, too, or was this just a chance for you to get your rocks off?
She winced at the vulgar thought, knowing it was completely unfair. After all, she was the one who had practically attacked him, who had used him to keep her mind off everything she didn’t want to think about. How could she blame him for going along for the ride? Besides, Lucas wasn’t the kind of guy to sleep and run. He was too much of a gentleman for that.
But what had happened between them? How had they ended up ripping each other’s clothes off and having the best sex of her entire life?
Lucas was her friend. Her best friend. And now, suddenly, he’d become her lover. She didn’t know what that meant or how she felt about it. She didn’t know if it was going to change things, or even if she wanted it to change things.
But she couldn’t help looking at him differently, as he lay there twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. She felt different, strange, but also comfortable with him in a way she’d never felt with her lovers before. Like this was something she’d been waiting for without ever realizing it.
Had she been waiting for it? Had she felt more for him than friendship all along or was this a new development? Or was she just imagining things that weren’t there?
It didn’t feel like that. Being with Lucas had felt real, more real than anything had in a long time. And frankly, that scared the hell out of her in a way that Eritrea never could.
So, instead of rolling over and kissing him as she wanted to, she lay there, silent, and waited for him to say something that might give her a clue as to what he was thinking.
She couldn’t say how long they lay there, still and silent, their bodies resting intimately against each other and yet separate in a way they hadn’t been before tonight. She knew it was a long time, was conscious of the precious minutes ticking by as she waited for him to reach some profound conclusion.
He never did. Or if he did, he didn’t bother to share it with her.
Eventually, though, she couldn’t put it off any longer. Five o’clock was growing ever closer and with it the next phase of her career. She had to get up, get going—whether she wanted to or not. There was laundry that needed to be done, bags that needed to be packed. And Lucas still hadn’t said anything, his silence hurting her more than she would have thought possible.
Determined to brazen it out, she rolled over onto her side and dropped a quick kiss on his cheek. “I need to get going.”
She started to roll away from him, but he smiled lazily, tangled a hand in her hair. Pulled her back to him and down so that her lips met his in a kiss so tender it brought tears to her eyes. Which was ridiculous. She hardly ever cried and yet, tonight, she’d done more than her fair share—which she hated. It made her feel w
eak and pathetic when she’d always vowed to be neither.
“I’ll miss you,” he told her.
“Oh, yeah?” She arched an eyebrow and shot him a sassy smile she was far from feeling
“Yeah.” He reached up, traced an index finger over her right breast and then her left, stopping to lightly circle her nipple a few time. It was an absent caress, almost sweet, and still it had her breathing quickening. However this thing between them was going to end, neither of them could deny that the chemistry was powerful stuff.
Had it been there all along on his side, as well? Or had something about tonight set it off in him? She thought about it for a second and then decided she didn’t want to know.
And yet, no matter how many times she’d told herself to play it cool, in the end, she had to ask. “What are we doing here, Lucas?”
He shook his head, his eyes suddenly serious. “I have no idea.”
Even though she’d had much the same thought a few minutes before, it still stung. Like a sucker punch right between the ribs. “Right. Of course.” She rolled off the bed and practically ran for the bathroom.
He beat her there. “That didn’t come out right,” he told her as he wrapped his hands around her upper arms and turned her to face him.
“I’m not sure how many other ways it could have come out.”
She waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stared at her, his beautiful, blue eyes frustrated and wary and just a little disbelieving, telling her that he still hadn’t wrapped his mind around what had happened between them.
Which, she reminded herself viciously, she couldn’t exactly hold against him. After all, wasn’t she feeling the same way?
But that was different. Lucas was always the one with the plan. The one who knew what to do when nobody else did. And if he wasn’t laying out a plan now that things had changed, then it had to be because he didn’t want to make one—at least not with her.