by Claire Kent
Feeling heat rise in her cheeks as she realized what she’d just thought, she flipped over onto her back again and stared once more at the ceiling.
“Amy?” Owen murmured.
“Hmm?” she replied, swallowing hard.
Damn it, he’d moved over until he was right next to her again, his fingers tracing the curve of one shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Giving him a mildly exasperated look, she replied, “Nothing’s wrong. I’m hot and tired. We’ve already covered this.”
His lips lowered to where he’d been stroking her shoulder with heart-stopping gentleness. “I don’t believe you,” he said huskily, over her skin. His lips eased toward her neck. Settled on her throbbing pulse. “Tell me why you’re acting so prickly.”
“I’m not prickly.” Her mouth fell open as his lips and tongue teased her deliciously. “I told you, I’m…” Her words transformed into a sigh of pleasure as the fingers of one of his hands started stroking her damp hair back from her face.
“I thought you were enjoying this.” He trailed his kisses up to her jaw. “If you’re not, just tell me and we’ll stop.”
She breathed out a laugh. “Owen, I just had five orgasms. How can you doubt whether I’m enjoying it.”
“True. But you can enjoy something physically and not really be into it. I want this to be good for you in every way.”
A strange conflict was going on in her heart—between mushy affection and panicked desperation. “As much as you want to win?”
She regretted the words as soon as she’d spoken them. Couldn’t believe she’d voiced something so petty, so revealing. Her defenses must be lowered farther than she’d imagined.
Maybe Owen would ignore the words or not read too much into them. Or maybe he wouldn’t even notice them.
And maybe the sun would change its mind one day and start setting in the east. Of course, Owen would notice them.
His face tightened, and he lifted his head to peer at her closely. “Amy?”
She shook her head. “Never mind. That was stupid. I’m into this all the way.” She managed a wobbly smile, mentally pleading with him to move on. “Forget I said that.”
“I’m not going to forget you said that.” He took her face between his hands. “What did you mean?”
“Nothing. My mind is numb from all the orgasms. No use expecting me to talk sense.”
“Amy, tell me what’s wrong. If you want to say something—”
“I don’t. Stop trying to read into everything. Why can’t we just have great sex and leave it at that?”
His lips tightened abruptly, and she had no way of understanding what was going on behind his eyes.
She sighed. If she didn’t pull it together soon, the most important thing in her life would be destroyed. She raised her hands to cup the back of his head. “Owen, it’s really nothing. Don’t you ever say something that’s just silly, that doesn’t have any real meaning?”
He seemed to reflect on this a minute. “No. I don’t believe I do.”
“Well, normal people do. So let it go.”
Nodding, he lowered his face once more to her jaw line. Nibbled his way to her lips. “You know, don’t you,” he said huskily, his breath wafting over her skin irresistibly, “that pleasing you is more important to me than winning?”
She didn’t know anything of the kind, and he was probably just saying it to smooth over her ruffled feathers. But the words filled her heart until it threatened to overflow. “Sure it is,” she managed to say, her hands caressing his thick hair.
Meeting her eyes deeply—as if he was trying to communicate something wordlessly—he sank into a kiss.
It was so sweet and so rich that Amy closed her eyes and moaned against his mouth. Not from erotic desire but from the overwhelming need in her heart. His lips brushed against hers with soft, tantalizing pressure, and his tongue traced her open lips and then dipped into her mouth to tease and soothe.
She gasped in relief when he finally pulled away, since she was almost weeping from the beauty of it, the depth of it, and what she wished it meant. “Wow,” she drawled, trying to lighten her feelings by underestimating the kiss’s effect on her. “That was pretty good.”
He didn’t respond to her words. Just kept gazing into her eyes. And then lowered his mouth again, causing Amy to tense in preparation. He pressed little kisses into her cheek, her jaw, then down to her throat.
She’d thought she’d be safer when he moved away from her mouth, but every touch of his lips was purely tender.
He was demolishing every calculated barrier she’d built up around her heart. “Owen,” she breathed, because she couldn’t help but say his name.
His face was buried in the crook between her neck and shoulder. “Hmm,” he murmured, tangling his fingers in her hair.
Her hands were clutching at him, as if they resisted ever letting him go. “Owen,” she said again, her voice wispy, needy.
“Hmm,” he hummed again, his mouth busy once again at the pulse in her neck.
His tongue was now stroking her heartbeat—and her heart was drumming the pulse of her love for him. Her mouth fell open and she arched up into him, the need in her heart far stronger than any need she’d ever felt between her legs. “Oh, God, Owen,” she whispered, her fingers tightening on the hard muscles of his back. “I…”
She couldn’t believe she was so close to saying something she wasn’t supposed to even feel. Every nerve in her body was humming with the emotion, and her voice was aching to speak it.
“Hmm?” This time, his low murmur lifted at the end, making the sound a question. His lips had grown still, were pressed motionless against her pounding pulse.
Amy clenched her jaw. Didn’t speak again. Her sense of self-preservation was still the strongest part of her soul.
Owen’s body was suddenly tense, and he raised his face from her neck to stare down at her. “You what?” he asked hoarsely.
She just looked at him, knowing she couldn’t tell him the truth but having no idea what to say.
It was too new. Too risky. She still didn’t think it could possibly be real—since it was wrong in every way. There was no possibility of letting go of her control enough to say it.
Terrified that she’d given something away, she made her voice light and casual. “I…think you’ve set a very dangerous precedent this afternoon.”
For just a moment, he looked almost disappointed, but then he smiled dryly so she assumed the first impression was just wishful thinking on her part. “In what way?” he asked, both his expression and body relaxing.
“I’m going to expect this kind of performance from you regularly from now on.” There was safety in their teasing banter—so she clung to it.
“In that case, you’re going to be disappointed. This is not something that occurs every day. Lesser men wouldn’t have the stamina. And even I… Well, most days my will of iron is slightly less iron.”
Amy giggled, feeling a little better. “What a shame.”
He slid one hand up to stroke her breasts. “If seven orgasms was a common occurrence, then this wouldn’t be much of a challenge, would it?”
She closed her eyes as his mouth closed around the nipple he’d been fondling, but she was closing them in a pleasure that was only partly physical.
He shifted lower on her body, trailing his kisses down to her belly. She sucked in her stomach instinctively as he sweetly brushed his lips along her skin.
Her legs were already parting—her thighs spreading unconsciously to make room for his chest and shoulders. His hands slipped under her to cup her bottom. Raising her hips slightly, he poised his mouth over her sensitive flesh.
“Whatever you do down there,” she said breathlessly. “It doesn’t count. Remember, your cock has to be in play.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I know the rules. I’m just killing time before my cock feels like playing again.”
She tried to stifle her amused grin but didn’
t do a very good job.
Then she didn’t feel like grinning at all when he started to nuzzle her intimately.
Spreading her legs farther apart, she bent her knees up for leverage to hold her hips in position. She was rather wet and messy from their earlier lovemaking, but Owen didn’t seem to notice or to mind. He nudged her open and gave her one long stroke with his tongue, causing her to sigh in pleasure.
Then he used his lips and tongue to tease and stimulate—alternating between her entrance and her clit and occasionally making detours into the surrounding areas—until Amy was gasping and grinding her pelvis into his face.
She held his head firmly in place. The coiling pressure of an approaching orgasm was gathering slowly, despite all the times she’d already come. “You know this doesn’t count. It’s a freebie.”
He chuckled, making her groan as the vibrations shook her and traveled in shudders up her spine. He shifted a hand so he could sink a finger into her wet pussy.
She arched dramatically on the bed, clutching at his head and pushing it harder into her now throbbing arousal. “Fuck, Owen,” she gasped. “How are you doing this?”
It seemed like she should get to the point where her body would stop responding to him.
Another finger had joined the first, and he was pumping them quickly in and out, matching the rhythm his tongue had established as it fluttered over her clit. One of her legs jerked up suddenly and hooked itself over his shoulder. She couldn’t help but clench her thighs together, squeezing his head in between them.
He made a strangled sound and used his free hand and his opposite shoulder to force her legs apart. Then he closed his lips around her clit and started to suck hard—in retaliation, she supposed.
She cried out, as jolts of sensation overwhelmed her. Her arms flew up to grab at the headboard, and she clung to it desperately as her body started to quake.
He was giving her such pleasure, playing her body like an instrument. And he was Owen—the man who was so much more to her than the pleasure he could give her.
She felt his teeth chafe very gently against her hot flesh. “Owen,” she choked out. “God, Owen, I…”
She was so close. So close to coming. So close to speaking the words that had always been so unspeakable.
She loved him. Loved him. There was no way to deny it was true. And now she desperately wanted to say it out loud.
Swallowed over the words as her climax started to crest because—pleasure or not—her feelings just weren’t returned.
He hummed against her pulsing flesh. The hum sounded almost like a question.
She pressed her lips tightly together and released an urgent, helpless moan in lieu of the words she couldn’t say. Thrashed beneath his mouth and fingers, frantically trying to reach another peak.
Then the stimulation was gone. Owen had lifted his head, his body. Removed his fingers from her pussy. Was kneeling over her, naked and gorgeous.
For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she would scream or cry. She’d been so close. So close to everything. And he had stopped again, working her back up to the anguished frustration she’d experienced before.
Her eyes darted down his body and saw why he’d stopped. He still had a challenge to fulfill, after all.
And now his cock was once more very much in play.
“Damn it, Owen,” she snarled, trying to think clearly enough to decide what her strategy should be. No matter how much she loved him and wanted to be loved in return, she wasn’t going to let him win so easily. “You have no idea how much I hate you.”
He raised his eyebrows. Gave his hard, bobbing cock a few quick tugs.
Didn’t appear to believe her.
Six
Amy should really be more upset that Owen was so close to winning this game.
It was the principle of the thing, after all. He was far too arrogant and presumptuous for his own good—actually thought he was invincible. And Amy had always believed it was her job to take the smug bastard down a notch or two.
Plus, she really hated losing. Owen had already produced five orgasms out of the seven required.
And he still had thirty-five minutes left.
All of this meant that Amy couldn’t just let Owen have his way. She was throbbingly aware that her body was just waiting for Owen to do his thing. Oh, she could come twice more. No doubt about that. It wouldn’t even take much work on his part.
So she had to do something drastic to keep it from happening.
Owen would stop her if she tried to go down on him, and he’d recognize any obvious attempt on her part to make him come prematurely.
She’d have to be more creative than that now. Even though she didn’t really feel like being creative. Even though what she really wanted was for Owen to take her in his arms, find his home in her body, and never let her go.
But that was irrelevant at the moment. The only relevant issue was which one of them was going to win. So all of Amy’s sappy feelings for Owen—that had risen unbidden in her heart—would just have to be ignored so she could concentrate on essentials.
Owen was the one who had made this about winning. He was the one who’d always turned to banter whenever things had gotten too intimate between them. And he was the one who was leaving in twenty-eight days.
Amy wasn’t going to lose.
“Fine. Give me another orgasm.” Scowling, she added under her breath, “Cocky bastard.”
His lips twitched irrepressibly.
Fighting an answering smile, she said, “But find a new position. You don’t get to loom over me like a caveman.”
He hadn’t really been caveman-esque before she’d spoken—he’d simply been kneeling between her legs with a very obvious erection. But at her words a familiar fire smoldered in his eyes. “Was that a suggestion?”
“No.” Amy tried not to feel a thrill at certain possibilities. Owen going all caveman would definitely be counterproductive to her attempt at victory, so she’d best not encourage him. “I explicitly told you there would be no caveman act from you today.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Kind of bossy, aren’t you?”
“You’re the one who kept bossing me around earlier, so I don’t think you can complain about me.”
Owen grinned and flopped over on his back. He clearly was in better shape now that he’d come once. He looked turned on but not overly urgent. “No caveman, then. I guess you want to be on top again.”
“Yeah,” Amy agreed, although she was feeling pretty tired and wasn’t sure she was up to riding Owen into ecstasy once more. She really hoped her thighs were up to the challenge. But that position would at least give her some control over the situation while she figured out how she was going to win.
Stalling, she rubbed her hands across his chest, feeling the gently rippling muscles and the hard planes and ridges. Staring at the contrast between her fair fingers and his tanned skin, she caressed him for a while in almost idle reflection.
When she glanced back at his face, she caught a soft look that made her belly clench, but it disappeared before she could name it.
She forced the fleeting hope away, since it would only distract her. A victory was hanging in the balance. Drastic measures were now necessary.
In fact, she might have to cheat a little.
Just a little. And no more than he’d already cheated. Turn-about, after all, was fair play.
Suddenly inspired, she lowered her face to kiss a line across his collarbone. She could feel his body tense up under the touch of her lips, and she slid her hands down to tease the sensitive skin on his side. That made him jerk a little, causing her to smile over his belly.
“Tickling is off limits,” Owen said firmly, reaching up to tangle his fingers in her hair.
“Who says?” Her eyes darted up to his face. “You seem to be making up all the rules here. You can use a vibrator and you can go down on me. But I can’t go down on you and tickling isn’t allowed. We didn’t sign a contract, you know, so
everything is negotiable. I’ll tickle you if I want to.”
She was only arguing to divert him from her real agenda. Tickling wasn’t really her plan.
Looking very smug while keeping his arms tightly at his sides, Owen replied, “Well, the negotiations on this are over. No tickling.”
Amy tickled him—starting at his lower sides and then squeezing her fingers up under his arms as he unconsciously relaxed his defensive pose.
He made a rough noise in his throat, one that Amy recognized as stifled laughter, and tried to capture her hands. Giggling helplessly, Amy eluded his grasp for a little while as she danced her fingers all along the places she knew he was most sensitive. Saw his body twitch and his face set tightly in a frantic attempt at control.
Eventually, he managed to grab her hands and held them away from his body. “Okay,” he said gruffly. “We’ll reopen negotiations. What do you want in order to stop tickling me?”
This was working out better than she’d expected. “I want you to lie still this time. Number six is up to me. You just lie there like a good boy, and I’ll take care of everything.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you planning something underhanded?”
She was. Very underhanded. But she opened her eyes innocently and said with exaggerated wonder, “Me? What do you mean? All I want is a nice little fuck.”
Owen obviously didn’t believe a word she said. “Are you planning to cheat and suck me off?”
“Nope. I’m not prepared to agree that that would be cheating, but there will be no sucking of any variety. I promise.”
“And you’re not going to just sit there on top of me, are you? In some sort of vindictive torture?” He looked decidedly wary as her growing excitement started to buzz silently at every one of her nerve ends.