Lean on Me (The Mackay Sisters)

by Verdenius, Angela

  Her cool palms against his heated skin wasn’t soothing. The slide of her palms elicited a hot trail of need that slid through his skin to pool low in his loins, and when those cool fingers slid beneath his waistband to dig her nails into the rise of his buttocks, his sac pulled tight, a fiery thread pulling taut from the touch.

  Christ, he wanted her, needed her.

  “Lori.” He breathed it hotly against her throat, his hands seeking the clips of her bra, unsnapping it impatiently, pulling it down her arms and freeing those generous breasts.

  Without breaking contact from her throat, he pulled back enough to allow the globes to tumble into his waiting palms.

  Finally. Finally. His very fantasy was happening, those wonderful breasts overflowing his palms, those sweet little nipples hard buds of need.

  Just as impatiently her fingers fumbled at his belt, yanking the strap free from the buckle until it hung loose. His fly almost tore open, the button certainly popped off.

  Thank God he had enough sense to grab her hand before she could rip the zip down. His shaft was hard, pressing against the opening, and he had no intention of letting this heated encounter end painfully. Angling his hips back, he pushed her hand away and eased the zip down, moving his head back up so that he covered her mouth in a long, searing kiss when she protested.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he growled throatily. “Nor are you.” He licked deep, savouring her nectar. Fisting his hand into her luxurious locks, he pulled her head back firmly but carefully, looking his fill of her face.

  The passion was plain to see, the heat of her eyes, the swollen red lips, the hot breaths that came in little pants.

  Looking down he saw her breasts, tear-drop shaped, natural, full and heavy, the pebbled nipples dark pink. Beautiful, so bloody beautiful. Begging to be tasted.

  She made a small noise in her throat, a protest, and when he dragged his gaze back up to her face he saw in her eyes the sudden shyness, the rising insecurity.

  Hell no. No way was he stopping now, no way was he letting her retreat under a tide of self-consciousness, not when he knew how beautiful she was, how passionate. Not when he knew he was having her come hell or high water.

  She was his.

  Without giving her shy withdrawal any leeway, Matt dropped quickly to his knees, his hands sliding swiftly down her sides, tracing the indent of her waist before following the generous swells of her hips. Fingers digging in to hold her still, he leaned forward to capture one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard without any further preliminaries.

  She almost came apart, her hips undulating, back arching, her fingers sliding through his hair, her gasp of desire an erotic note to his ears.

  As he drew hotly with his mouth on the nipple, he slid one hand up her belly to cup her other breast, pressing his palm against it, moulding it, rubbing the nipple there and glorying in the way it peaked hard, begging. With a last suck he slid hot, open-mouthed kisses across her chest, latching on to the other nipple and sucking just as demandingly.

  Hands now on his shoulders, her sensual moans of bliss filled the air.

  While he had her mindless, he slid his fingertips into the waistband of her pants and panties, sliding them down her hips and rounded thighs to drop at her feet. One hand at the back of her knee, a slight urging and she obeyed mindlessly, lifting her foot enough that he could slip the garments free along with her ballet flat before he did the same with the other leg.

  Now she was naked.

  Releasing her nipple, he gave it a last lave with his tongue, feeling her quake against him. Tilting his head back to look up the length of her voluptuous curves to where she stood with her throat arched, he saw with satisfaction that her head was tipped back as she bit her lip.

  That plump, lush lip that he’d stared at so many times, that he’d fantasied about, that was being tortured between her small, white teeth.

  One push of his thigh muscles and he surged upwards, sliding his body against hers as he went until he stood straight, his hands tracing up to cup her face, angling her head to give him the best position to take that tortured lip, to break the hold of her teeth and claim her mouth, his lips on hers, moulding to her, his tongue sweeping in to brand her with his essence.

  Her naked body was pressed against him as he bent down over her, his hard shaft pressed torturously between them, her thighs rubbing against his in unspoken desire, the curls protecting her womanhood caressing him enticingly with every shift of her body.

  His heart pounded, his blood a hot, thick surge that burned in his veins, his shaft aching, urgent, the need to be buried inside her soft body riding him hard.

  As hard and urgent as he meant to ride her.

  This time when he dropped to his knees he took Lori with him, easing her backwards with one arm behind her back, the other braced on the floor until she lay flat.

  Her fingers spread over his chest as he continued to kiss her, drinking from her, groaning deep into her mouth as he felt her hands slide across his chest. She palmed his pecs, her fingertips finding his flat male nipples and teasing them taut.

  Christ, he was burning up. It felt like he had a fever that was searing through his veins, heating him from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, and everywhere in-between was burning with the hottest part being at his groin.

  Nudging her thighs apart with his knee, he angled his hips once more, lifting them to push his pants and jocks down to free his shaft that was already leaking. It had never felt so hard, so thick, so painfully erect, and it was with mindless urgency that he swooped between her legs, his hips forcing her legs wider. Reaching down, he hooked his hand behind her knee, bringing it up alongside his hip, opening her to him.

  “Oh, Jesus.” His breath hissed between his teeth as her wet heat almost scalded the tip of his shaft.

  So hot, so creamy, so needing, the woman beneath him his to take, to claim, to brand with his seed.

  And so tight as he started to enter her.

  He heard her own breath hiss even as he registered her tightness. Opening his eyes to gaze down into her face, he took a savage delight in knowing that her lips were swollen from his kisses. Then he saw the passion-filled heat of her eyes, the desire that burned so hotly within, and when she looked up at him so wickedly, innocently, yet totally hedonistically, any last vestige of control Matt had was broken.

  One powerful surge of his hips and he thrust into her, dimly registering the giving of something, hearing her gasp, but the heat of her, the tightness clasping his shaft, the slickness of her body and the way she curled into him rather than arch away, swept him away on a tide of carnal voracity.

  Hips pumping, muscles flexing, he rode her hard, craving her with a covetousness that he’d never experienced before, his need of her insatiable. Forearms each side of her, his hands holding her head as he ate at her lips, taking her mouth almost as ruthlessly as he took her body.

  Every soft curve, every silky rub of skin, every trace of her scent drove him onwards, wanting more, needing more, craving more.

  Harder he pushed into her, further, his sac nudging against the seam of her body, his shaft deep inside that snug, wet heat.

  Rather than scaring her off, her passion matched his. She accepted him as hungrily, knees bent, willingly giving him total access to her body, breasts swaying with every punishing thrust of his hips, her sheath greedily clasping his shaft, inner muscles squeezing him until he swore he could see stars behind his eyelids.

  Bracing his hands on the floor he moved his head lower, fastening his lips onto her throat, sucking and laving, licking hotly.

  The whole time Matt didn’t slow, his hips surging forward, tunnelling deep into her, as deep as he could go and yet wanting to go further, pushing and withdrawing to slam back into the wet heat.

  Lori arched under him, breasts pressed to his chest, fingers sweeping up his arms, flexing into the bunch of his muscles, and when he lifted his head to look down at her, it was she who lunged up to capture
his mouth, her tongue sweeping in demandingly, taking from him just as hungrily.

  His heart pounded, seed leaking from his shaft, and he could feel the tightening of his sac, the erotic pressure that was building with fiery tongues of flame, the tightening in his lower back, the coiling heat in his loins.

  He couldn’t last much longer. Part of him didn’t want to stop, another part wanted to explode inside her, to mark her, brand her, to have himself so deep inside her that she’d never be able to forget his presence in her body.

  “Matt,” she moaned. “Oh God, Matt.”

  The tidal wave was building inside him, higher and higher, and he shifted, changing the angle of his thrusts, instinctively hitting something deep inside her that had her opening her eyes to look directly up at him.

  Watching her orgasm was erotic, the heat flaring in her eyes, her head falling back amidst the wealth of glossy brown hair that flowed over the floor. Her lush lips opened on a cry, his name reverberating in the air.

  Her sheath spasmed, muscles locking down, squeezing his climax from him mercilessly, his hips shoving hard once, twice, ruthlessly a third time as his seed erupted, coating her sheath.

  Braced up on his arms, muscles bulging from holding his weight, hands flat on the floor, his head back, he shuddered, hips jerking a fourth time as he emptied inside of her, the tidal wave crashing down to sweep him under in delicious, mind-blowing ecstasy.

  Chapter 6

  Lying on her back on the floor, Lori stared dreamily at the ceiling. Of course, she had to look past Matt’s head as he had his face buried in her neck while taking deep breaths, each one a damp puff of almost hot air on her skin.

  Wow. That was the only word for it. Wow. Such ferocity, such hot sex. He’d been dominating, leading her, but she sure as hell hadn’t held back either and that was the thing she revelled in. Finally, finally, she’d been able to indulge, to allow her fantasies to run free. To be herself.

  To be sensual and hungry, to touch and not be afraid of being laughed at, to be aggressive and have it reciprocated. To have the man of her fantasies actually set her secret desires free - well, some of them, anyway - was the icing on the cake.

  The man in question was now slumped over her, his muscular chest pressing her down, holding her flat on the floor. Granted, the floor was uncomfortable and her backside was cold from the tiles, but the whole front of her body was warm.

  Lori blinked languorously, a small, satisfied smile curving her lips. Wow again. She’d done it, she’d finally had sex and it had been as awesome as she’d imagined. Okay, it had hurt a little at first, that unaccustomed stretching sensation when Matt had entered her, the piercing of her virginity, but that had paled, washed away as he’d slid deep inside her and then taken her to a mindless state of emotion and sensations.

  Was there any better way for a woman to lose her virginity than being taken so thoroughly?

  Hell, no. At least not for her.

  She could float on this pleasant cloud of dreaminess forever.

  That was until Matt tensing above her brought her slowly back to reality. When he pushed himself upwards to gaze down at her, she gave him a tentative smile, shyness washing over her as she met his gaze. That shyness changed just as quickly to mortification at his tense expression, the muscle that jumped at the corner of his mouth.

  “Are you all right?” he asked tightly.

  “I - um - yes.” All dreaminess vanished to be replaced with the knowledge that she was lying underneath a perfect male specimen.

  A male specimen that didn’t look pleased.

  Oh shit. Whatever he was thinking, it definitely wasn’t pleasant. Matt’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw clenched as abruptly he shoved upright onto his knees.

  That made her painfully aware of her naked state, because he was now kneeling between her thighs, every wobbly bit of her body, every overblown curve and dimple in plain view. Shame poured through her. It wasn’t just at her nakedness, though, even if it was a huge part right at that moment.

  Scrambling on her elbows, she backed away from him, casting a desperate gaze around to find something, anything, to drape over her nakedness.

  Tea towel? Too small. Floor mat? Damn, it was on the clothes line. Napkin? Okay, now she was getting ridiculous. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to lie naked before him. No way could she just recline back on her elbows with her legs sprawled out showing off her wares.

  Even as she scrambled upwards, Matt surged to his feet. Lucky bloke had his pants around his knees and was able to bend over too pull them up. All she could do was dash for the laundry basket containing the clean but as yet unfolded garments.

  Grabbing the first thing to hand - thank God it was a dressing gown, she was half prepared for a bra or something equally as useless right then - she wrapped it around herself, not bothering to button it up, just holding it closed with her folded arms.

  Unable to look at him, she just stood there, head tilted down, hair falling over her shoulders to hide her flaming face from Matt’s gaze which she could now feel burning a hole in her.

  One cautious peek showed the anger in his eyes and she bit her lip.

  “Lori-”

  “Just go.” She shook her head. Just go and let me collapse in shame.

  “No.”

  “Look, it happened, all right? I’m sorry.”

  “Not as much as I am.”

  Oh, that hurt. It was like a dagger plunging deep and she couldn’t help but protectively hunch her shoulders a little. “Then there’s nothing more to say, is there?”

  “There’s a hell of a lot to say.”

  He sounded so angry that she couldn’t help but look up at him once more. Those brown eyes that had been so hot with desire, so deep with passion, that could smile so warmly, were now almost flinty with fury.

  The pain that caused her had her throwing back her shoulders. Shy she might be but she wasn’t going to tolerate being ridiculed. It had happened once before and she’d sworn it wouldn’t ever happen again. No way was she going to buckle under her pain, no way was she going to take all the blame.

  As hard as it was to meet his hard gaze, she forced herself to do it. “Forget about it.”

  “Not that easy, Lori.”

  “It is.”

  His nostrils actually flared. “For you, maybe.”

  God, had making love to her traumatised him that much? “I’m sure if you try hard enough, you’ll get over it.” Mortified anger had always made her words sharp, something only a few people had ever experienced.

  Right now, Matt had the dubious honour of being one of the few.

  He didn’t blink. “I won’t ever be getting over this.”

  “Perhaps if you took counselling.” Arms still folded tight, she crossed to the kitchen sink, painfully aware of him watching her every step of the way. Grabbing a glass she filled it with water, only remembering that the dressing gown wasn’t fastened when it gaped open and her belly met the cold metal of the sink.

  Swearing silently, she grabbed the material and buttoned it up, lifting her gaze to the window to see the Matt’s reflection looking at her. Staring, in fact, and was that…? No, it was a trick of her imagination, the sun on the glass. Had to be, because that flare of desire in his eyes was just her over-active and extremely wishful imagination.

  Defiantly she watched him in the glass, noticing when he blinked and his gaze lifted from her now covered breasts to her face. Nope, there was no desire in those eyes.

  There was, however, a whole lot of anger and regret.

  Unable to watch those expressions on his handsome face, she looked down and took several mouthfuls of water, cursing her shaking hands as several drops spilled over.

  “Lori-”

  “Don’t make this harder than it already is, Matt.” Replacing the glass on the sink, she rested her hands on the metal. “You’ll get over it.”

  He didn’t move. “Discussing this-”

  “Will what? Make it better?
Stop trying to draw this out into something it’s not. Just go home, Matt, and leave me alone.”

  There was silence for several seconds before the sounds of him moving made her half turn her head.

  God, he was good to look at, all rippling muscles, pecs that made her mouth water to run her lips over him, a taut stomach that had her fingers itching to scrape across them, shoulders she could grab and hang onto…and a handsome face as hard as granite. The friendly, happy Matt she knew was gone to be replaced with a hard-eyed stranger who was feeling a whole lot of self loathing.

  No doubt at shagging the fat, over-sexed girl next door.

  Stop it. You’re worth more than that.

  But she couldn’t stop watching as he crossed the floor to where his ripped uniform shirt lay. Bending down, he picked it up, balling it into his fist as he straightened and cast her one long, hooded look before swinging around on his heel and striding from the kitchen.

  His footsteps echoed in the hallway with every angry step and then the front door clicked shut quietly but deliberately.

  Hand clenched tight around the glass, Lori took several deep breaths. It’s okay, it’s done, he’s gone, it’s okay.

  Only it wasn’t okay, it was as far from okay as anything could get. Because of her responses, her emotions that she’d let take control, her friend was gone, the man she secretly lusted after but whose friendship she valued so much, was gone. She’d destroyed everything by letting her body control her mind, and though it had been the most magical experience of her life, in the end it had also been the worst.

  Did sexual satisfaction replace good friends? No. Because now she felt a loss, felt it so keenly that her heart ached.

  Fury at herself, at her fantasies, at her sensual feelings, overwhelmed her, threating to choke her, and she was so bloody furious, so frustrated. So upset she didn’t know what to do next. She knew better, she should have known better. It had happened before and now it had happened again, though this time was irreparable.

  Helpless fury overtook her, the whole wretched happenings of the day and the humiliation she’d suffered. Pulling back her arm she threw the glass into the sink. It shattered on impact, glass flying everywhere, shards splintering upwards to drive deep into her hand which she’d instinctively thrown out to protect herself.