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Audrey’s Inn

Page 11

by Aycart, Elle


  God, she was as good as gone. She covered his hand with hers. If he moved, she was going to go off like a firecracker.

  She cleared her throat. “Talking about screaming, Con. I’m a screamer. This place is not really—”

  His deep chuckle rumbled through her body, giving her shivers and cutting her train of thought. “I know you’re a screamer. I had to keep your mouth busy at the pool to muffle your sounds. But I think we’re far enough away from anywhere. You can scream to your heart’s content out here.”

  “Sound carries farther near water.”

  “True, but not in a million years would anyone imagine my fingers are deep inside you, giving you a screaming orgasm.”

  “And you?” she asked, putting her hands on his thighs. “What about you?” In this position she couldn’t really do much to him. Maybe that was the reason why Con was allowing this.

  “Me what? This is for you, babe. Your reward for your patience.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” she said, feeling self-conscious. She’d obviously been too pushy when talking about sex. “I don’t want you to feel obli—”

  His snort interrupted her. “You think you’re forcing me into doing something I don’t want? Please. You’re not forcing me into anything, I assure you. Making you come gives me pleasure too. I know how you scream and how you shiver when you explode, but I haven’t felt your pussy sucking at me. I haven’t touched your clit or caressed your folds. I haven’t been able to taste you and lick your lube from my fingers. There are many things I want to do to this sweet body. Not now, though. Now I want to finger you until you explode in my arms. Are you with me?”

  She whimpered. “Hmm… you need to stop talking.” Or it was all going to end before it even started.

  “I like talking.”

  “Really?” Because that was news to her.

  “During sex. I like dirty talk. And you seem to like it too. Now, let my hand go.” Trembling, she obeyed, and he slid one finger over her open folds. “You’re already wet for me.”

  “We took a couple of spills in the lake, remember?” she said tartly, doing her damnedest not to sound as out of breath as she was. Total failure.

  “Not that kind of wet, baby. I mean the wetness that stays on your fingers, coating them when you dip into it. The kind that feels creamy and hot and tastes like heaven. The kind that turns you into a crackhead, ready to do anything to get another fix. That kind of wet.” He gathered some of the moisture dripping from her pussy and spread it up to her hard clit. “Demanding little thing,” he continued, softly caressing it. “It’s throbbing. Your whole pussy is. Shall we give it what it craves?”

  The images his words conjured in her mind were killing her. There was no way to wrestle back control of the situation—or the conversation, for that matter—so she wasn’t going to try. “Do your worst, house elf.”

  His rumble was full of dark promise. He pushed the tip of one finger inside. “You’re tiny, baby. Fucking tight.”

  “You do have big hands.”

  He didn’t comment, but she felt arrogant amusement oozing off him. “I love how feisty you are,” he said, pushing in farther. He slid out and in again, deeper this time. “Let’s try two fingers. Open your legs. Let me all the way in.”

  Legs all but shaking, she did as she was told. He was stretching her to the max, but she couldn’t bear not to have him deep inside her.

  “Yeah, like that. I can feel your muscles barely yielding to me. I’m afraid this pussy is going to grip my cock like a vise. You’ll make me spill even before I’m totally in.”

  Her inner flesh convulsed at his words and more liquid heat came rushing down to her core, which only encouraged him.

  Con began fucking her more methodically, laser-focused, pumping his fingers inside her. “Are your nipples hard?”

  She nodded. “Very.” They’d been rubbing against the life vest for a while now.

  He unbuckled the lowest buckle of the vest, which allowed him to somehow slide his hand under it. “Such pity I can’t really give these gorgeous tits the attention they deserve, but I won’t risk you taking your life vest off.” He cupped one breast and squeezed it, ripping a sobbing moan out of her. Her insides convulsed and contracted at the strong sensation as his other hand fucked her pussy.

  “Con… too much,” she gasped.

  “Two fingers in this hot, drenched pussy is too much? What will you do when you have my cock all the way in, my fingers breaching your ass, and my mouth sucking your nipples? What then, baby?”

  Oh God. She was going to lose it. She was riding his hand now, his rough palm pressing against her clit, his fingers fucking her deep and hard.

  She looked up at the darkish sky, a faint orange glow still in the west, and with a ragged moan, let herself go as her body imploded into a thousand pieces, all her nerve endings going haywire at the same time.

  Chapter Eight

  Audrey woke up smiling. When she remembered why, her smile grew even bigger. She covered her head with the blanket and squealed like a frigging little kid, kicking with her feet.

  She felt happy. Giddy. It had been so long since she felt this way, it had taken her a second to recognize the feelings.

  Things were going great. The inn was staying afloat, and she was making spectacular advances with Con. He’d not only kissed her but given her one of the best orgasms of her life. She’d come long and sweet. Just her, though, but she figured it was his way to keep a little control. Con was big on that. Afraid, probably, of his own reaction if things got out of hand.

  All and all, yesterday had been a fantastic day. Yes, she was up to her ears in debt, but things were going great. They even had a group reservation today. Oh, and last night she’d gotten an email from Amantis’s PR manager, inquiring about Audrey’s Inn hosting their kickoff party in the inn’s outdoor venue. That was a major event. Life was finally smiling at her.

  Suddenly, she felt a wave of cold sweat, a horrible sense of impending doom spreading over her. She’d almost forgotten that being this happy was dangerous; whenever she lowered her defenses and relaxed, life sucker punched her.

  She reached for her tablet on an impulse, heart trip-hammering. She hadn’t checked on Andy since her roommate died and she skipped town.

  She went onto social media and opened his profile on different platforms. There was no activity. She snooped around his known associates, although she didn’t know many. She ran a Google search. Nothing new on the case. It seemed he was still inside.

  She threw her tablet on the bed and clasped her hands, willing them to stop trembling. Prison or no prison, she didn’t feel reassured. He’d allegedly been detained too when her roommate died in what the cops had considered an “accidental” fire.

  Just thinking about that whole debacle made her hyperventilate. It had been a miracle she hadn’t bit the big one then too. And all because of her bad choices.

  She took a deep breath and shook the thoughts away. Nobody was after her anymore. If she kept her head down and her face turned away from that damn social media, she would be just fine. Besides, there was no reason for that asshole to come looking for her. Not after he’d gotten what he wanted.

  A knock on the door snapped her out of it.

  “Sweetie? Can I come in? Are you alone?”

  Red. Audrey got up and opened the door. “Of course I’m alone. I’m always alone here.”

  Red gave her a duh-look and sat on the bed. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Listen, about the group reservation. I was thinking we could offer them a la carte dishes for either lunch or dinner.”

  “Great idea,” Audrey said, stretching her arms and grimacing at the same time.

  “You stiff?”

  Audrey nodded. Too much exercise lately.

  To the aches and pains from regularly training with Con, she’d added new bruises from the sky-diving simulator and steering the Jet Ski. And from being thrown into the water several times. Oh, and from that heart-shattering org
asm, of course.

  She’d known Con was going to be great in bed, but she hadn’t foreseen how great. One thing was clear: she was going to have to gag him if she was to have any hope whatsoever of keeping her bearings during sex.

  But she wasn’t going to tell Red that. Her chef didn’t need the encouragement. “My arms are dead from the Jet Ski. And the sky-diving simulator.”

  Red smiled. “Those grandmas are the bomb.”

  Yes, they were. Alden was so much better than Audrey had expected. And she’d had really big expectations to begin with. Nothing she’d seen on Facebook over the years had lived up to the reality of the OGs and their families. It wasn’t only the fun they had, which was plenty, but the sense of camaraderie she got from being with them. She felt surrounded by love and cared for by people who would laugh with her—and also cry with her if need be. People she could count on. Audrey had always been short on that. She had very little extended family, and practically no contact with the relatives she had since she’d been small.

  She and her roommate had been all but alone. Audrey’s grandmother had died before Audrey was born, and her mom hadn’t wanted to talk about the older Audrey much. Her dad had gone AWOL long, long ago. Such an irony really; Audrey’s mom had wanted a traditional family. That was why she’d run away from her own mother, only to end up in more dire straits.

  Audrey wasn’t going to repeat those mistakes. She and Pudding had been adamant: they were going to plant roots in Alden. She loved belonging here.

  “Whenever the next girls’ day out is,” Audrey stated, “I’m in.”

  “You and me both, girl.” Red got up and headed for the door. “I’ll get cracking on a menu. Oh, you know what helps when you’re sore?” Audrey shook her head and Red smirked. “Lots and lots of hot, gritty sex. You’ll forget you’re sore anywhere other than… well, you know where.”

  “You’re nuts,” Audrey said, not able to stifle her laugh.

  Thank God she hadn’t seen her pesky chef when she and Con had come back from the Jet Ski ride. One look at Audrey and Red would have caught them.

  “I’m living vicariously through you. I need details,” Red called from the other side of the door.

  Completely nuts.

  * * *

  “Okay. I come charging at you. What do you do?” Con asked Audrey from across the mat.

  She cracked her neck—first one side, then the other—and crooked her fingers at him. “Try me.”

  He charged at her. She grabbed him by the collar, placed one foot high on his thigh, hauled him off-balance, flung herself backward, and threw him over her head. Then she got back on her feet.

  “Good,” he said, getting back up himself. “Now punching. Let’s say I try to punch you.”

  She reacted fast again, blocking his right-hand punch with her right forearm and then counteracting with a left-hand punch. Not directed to his jaw, but to his throat, where she could really hurt him. She pulled it at the last second.

  “Very good.” She was getting the hang of it. She still wasn’t a match for him, but she was no longer the defenseless woman of their first meeting. She knew how to look for weak spots, like throat and eyes and groin.

  They circled each other. She wasn’t letting him get into her personal space, like he’d taught her. When it came to hand-to-hand combat, one couldn’t attack what one couldn’t reach.

  “Do I get a reward afterward? I got nothing the last two times we trained.”

  He chuckled. Greedy little thing, his woman. “We’ll see. You haven’t managed to knock me down yet. Knocking your opponent down and keeping him down is the difficult part.”

  She harrumphed, blowing a strand of hair from her face. “Why are you so insistent on me being able to knock you down? Can I, I don’t know, rebuff your attack and run away instead of counterattacking?”

  “Less effective, baby.”

  She cocked her head, scrutinizing him, looking amused and so damn sexy. “Are you sure you aren’t a masochist, and all this ‘I’m dangerous’ stuff is an excuse for getting me to kick your ass?”

  Con laughed. He must be a masochist, because forcing himself to watch her in those skin-tight short shorts and sport bra, sweat dripping into that enticing cleavage, was a torture in itself. His cock had been standing at full salute for so long, he feared it was going to crack at the base every time he tried to separate it from his stomach, where the mofo seemed to have taken up permanent residence since the night at the pool. The latest “incident” on the Jet Ski hadn’t improved matters. Nor had wrestling with her and having her groaning and straining against him every evening. A total masochist.

  “I know what you hide behind those loose pants of yours, mister. I feel it every time we’re in contact,” she whispered as if reading his mind.

  Vixen. “Your fault.” She was the one constantly rubbing her sweet, voluptuous body against him in her clumsy yet adorable attempts to knock him down. “Now attack.”

  “Slave driver.” She clicked her tongue but obeyed.

  They continued practicing until the gym became quiet. They were working on a headlock when Mike approached them. “Guys, it’s half an hour until closing time, but you’re the only ones left. I need to get home early today. Do you mind closing for me? Everything’s ready—you just have to turn off the lights, lock the front door, and pull down the metal shutters.”

  “Sure.” Con let go of the headlock and gestured to a nearby bench. “Leave the keys there. We’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Thank you. I’ll slam the door shut on my way out. Sara and XL were supposed to be here for closing time, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Jeez, she’s regressing to adolescence.”

  Audrey took advantage of the impromptu break and went to the bench to grab a bottle of water. She signaled to the bathroom and ran.

  “She’s getting good,” Mike said.

  “Not good enough,” Con muttered.

  “No one is going to be good enough to drop you without years of training. Not even then.” Mike pondered for a second, a smirk spreading on his face. “I’ll speak with Adrian and convince him to un-confiscate one of Wilma’s tasers. What do you think?”

  Mike clearly meant the offer as a joke, but it had its merits. It wouldn’t work if Audrey was caught off guard, but if she saw the situation coming, like when he woke up from a nightmare, tasing him could be a solution.

  Mike must have read his expression because he shook his head and croaked a laugh. “It was a joke, you wacko.”

  She came back drinking from a full bottle. “Who’s a wacko?”

  “Your man here,” Mike answered, and with a nod, left.

  At her confused expression, Con just shrugged. “One last round?”

  She left the bottle on the bench and stepped onto the mats. “Last one. I’m beat.”

  They started circling each other. When he was about to make his move, she brought her hand to the waistband of her shorts and, giving him a sultry look, produced a condom. Then she pulled her sports bra up and flashed her boobs at him. Surprised like fuck, he staggered for a second. Before he could regain his poise, she’d hooked her leg behind his and pushed him to the ground.

  She straddled him and offered him an intoxicating grin. “I knocked you down. And I’m taking my reward.”

  He intended to complain—or try to, at the very least—but she placed two fingers across his lips, silencing him. She didn’t say a word, yet the plea in her eyes disarmed him.

  While he fought, rather futilely, not to notice how enticing her gorgeous tits bounced, free of their constraint, she grabbed the hem of his sleeveless hoodie and tried to roll it up. That broke the spell. “Audrey…” he growled, stopping her.

  She looked him straight in the eye, her voice gentle. “I’ve seen it already. It’s okay.” Then she winked. “If you let me do yours, I’ll let you do mine.”

  “You did yours already,” he pointed out, chuckling, his gaze straying down to her magnificent breasts.

&
nbsp; She cocked her head, ignoring his poor attempts at derailing her, and waited. For him.

  Jesus. Who the fuck was he kidding? He couldn’t refuse her. He couldn’t walk away from this. From her. Every fiber of his being wanted Audrey.

  Slowly, he loosened the grip he had on her hands and sat up. Smiling, pleased, she pulled the hoodie over his head while he did his best not to freak out. Then she lifted her arms and let him take her sports bra the rest of the way off.

  Cupping his face, she kissed him softly again and again.

  “Babe, this is a bad idea. I want you too much. And I’m all sweaty.”

  “I’m sweaty too,” she said, pushing him back on the mat. “Does it bother you?”

  As if. Con let out a soft snort and took her mouth, this time more forcefully, and rolled them until he was on top. He might be slow on the uptake, but he ran the show, always.

  He locked her in place with his limbs. “You sure you want to do this?” he whispered against her mouth, not breaking eye contact.

  “Absolutely,” she answered. “I trust you. And I want you.”

  Fuck, her unconditional trust killed him.

  He kissed her again, this time, a short, hard kiss. He wanted her so much he could hardly breathe, let alone think.

  Fine. He’d given her all the outs possible. She could only blame herself for getting all of him. He went on his knees. “Shorts off.”

  He didn’t have the patience to wait for her to do it, so he peeled the shorts off her, along with her panties, while she, wantonly, stared at him. Finally, she lay naked on the mat, wearing only her sneakers. He knees were closed, blocking his view, so he cupped them and parted her legs until they were wide open, slowly revealing the cutest, most fuckable pussy he’d ever seen.

 

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