"Yes." Warm breath fans my cheekbones as his lips reach down toward mine. "And you didn't kiss me hello."
Winding my arms up around his neck, I pull his face closer to mine, breathing in his aftershave of musky spice and something green.
"Hi." I barely get the word out before Heath's lips swallow my breathy exhale, and his tongue immediately finds mine.
I'm barely conscious of the sound of his bag hitting the floor as he walks me backward, until the back of my knees hit the mattress, and I feel myself falling. Strong arms lift my hips to help ease me backward along the covers, the fabric shifting and balling beneath me as Heath's tall frame folds around me, knees straddling mine on the bed.
It's a long way up. His lips are too far away from mine now as he lifts upright on his knees to drag the t-shirt over his chest, exposing the fine curly hairs. Funny, you would think that losing the hair on your head would trigger similar loss everywhere, but my fingers twist in the small curls, running from his collarbone down the smooth planes to dip beneath the belt at his waist.
My hands make quick work of the smooth leather, unhooking the buckle to reach for the button above his zipper.
Heath's hands stall my busy movements, taking the time to slip the belt free from the loops before allowing me to slowly unzip his pants to reveal the tight grey briefs below, his cock rigid and obviously looking to escape. Watching his eyes, I run two fingers up the swollen ridge, caressing the fabric until I hear a sharp inhale as I make light circles around the head.
My fingers drag at the fabric of his briefs, pulling them down over his hips before Heath grabs my wrists, lowering my hands to the mattress again, shaking his head no.
Warm palms sweep beneath the hem of my t-shirt, dragging it up over my breasts, before reaching below my shoulders to lift me briefly. Free of the t-shirt, I wait for his next move, following his eyes as they fixate hungrily on my full breasts, overflowing the cups of my front-hook bra.
I love the cleavage a front-hook gives when standing upright, but in this position, my breasts have fallen into one large monoboob of barely-contained flesh. These are the times I wish I had used my small inheritance from my grandparents on the breast reduction rather than buying the condo.
The hand that dips to cup one full, round globe, weighing it in his large palm is shockingly warm. The bite of pressure as he squeezes causes a flood of wetness between my thighs, as if squeezing a ripe fruit to get it to release it's essence. There's a reason people used to wear sweatpants with the word 'juicy' tattooed across the ass like an invitation.
Grabbing his wrists, I drag one of his hands down until he cups my warmth through my cargo pants, encouraging him to explore. Instead, he turns both palms to mine before grasping both of my wrists into one of his hands. The leather belt winds around my wrists, holding them together before being dragged upward and over my head.
"Consider yourself on my leash, now."
Surprised, I wiggle beneath him, my shoulders readjusting to the position as my exposed nipples pucker in the cooler air. I did not expect games from Heath, but I'm willing to play. That's the fun of a new lover—the exploration of what makes them tick. It's always a bonus when someone surprises you with an unexpected kink or fetish that sparks your playful side.
"Why, Dr. Doolittle, I never said I was anyone's pet. What kind of animal would need to be restrained?" I ask saucily.
Leaning down, his warm breath tickles my ear as he replies, "The kind that seems to be in heat for more than just me." The nip to my ear startles a squeak as I squirm beneath him, his legs tightening like a cage around my own.
"You know, in the wild, females are often defended by multiple men to ensure the continuation of the species," I tease.
Rubbing his hand across his scalp, a small line furrows between Heath's brows as he asks with mock sincerity. "Is that what we're doing here? Ensuring the continuation of the species?"
The vehement shaking of my head signals swift denial.
"No. No starts, no continuations, no regrets. What about you?"
Dropping his lips to mine, he bites my lower lip, tugging gently before releasing.
"I'm sure at another time in my life, I would have loved continuing the species with you. Now…" His voice drops apologetically as I raise my bound wrists from above me to gently run my hand down his cheek.
"Agreed. But then I would be different and so would you, and this," I gesture with my bound hands, "would cease to exist. So, what's next?"
Searching eyes watch me intently for a moment, weighing the truth of my reply, before a smile breaks across his face once more.
"You tell me. What would Jane do?"
"I expect that Jane would ask you to do your duty to queen and country, and to relieve my good standing in society by fucking me senseless, if you please," I say smugly, yelping as my hips are drawn abruptly upward and Heath's hands drag my cargo pants and thong swiftly down my legs before dropping them over the side of the bed.
My legs fall open as I wait for him to return, enjoying the view as he stands next to the bed to drag his own pants and briefs down to his ankles, kicking them free along with his shoes.
His limbs are long and loose, the soft down of his curly hair shadowing his muscles. The chest and hips have curves—not fat, but not chiseled. The type of strength born of yard work, not weight machines. Biking with the family, instead of sprinting through a spin class.
The toned arms and legs are substantial enough to make me feel safe, like they can embrace the weight of my curves without feeling the strain. God knows I've enjoyed sex with men of different shapes and sizes, but there's something about feeling equal to someone in bed. I don't want someone who can benchpress my weight, I want someone that I can climb like a tree and cling to without fear of falling. And judging by the substantial limb pointing toward me at this moment, it's time for me to grab for a large branch and hang on tight.
"I never shirk my duty, Jane. One senseless fuck coming right up!" The crinkle of the wrapper hitting the nightstand is like the sound of the starting pistol.
Climbing back above me with little fanfare, Heath grips behind both knees, planting my feet firmly on the mattress before lining up and sliding home into my center. My ankles quickly lock around his hips, before sliding down his ass as I squirm to the slow rhythm, seeking the sweet spot for him to bump against.
Strong hands sift through my hair as he leans on his elbows, caging my shoulders, forehead touching mine, breathing in sync with me. Reaching one arm down, he suddenly pulls one leg over his shoulder, a light laugh fanning across my lips at my sharp intake as he finally hits the big G.
Taking advantage of my split position, his hand quickly moves between us to roll my clit gently between his finger and thumb, eliciting another gasp as my pleasure begins to build and crest. My breasts strain between us as my wrists grasp at the pillows above my head, my fingers digging in as the pace increases. Each thrust pounds against my pussy, slapping sounds punctuated by the slight squeak of the mattress as it moves with us.
"Ready?" Heath's strained voice surprises me as I open my eyes to find him watching me intently in the bright light of the room. Biting my lip, I squirm my hips once more, varying my position as Heath's grip on my hair tightens.
"Look at me," he commands, holding my hair to stop the restless tossing of my head. His lips are tight, the concentration on his face strained but focused. "Hold tight."
The words are punctuated by half a dozen deep thrusts, each harder than the last, as I feel my control slipping. Heath suddenly freezes in place, his muscles tight with strain as I watch the wave of pleasure cross his face, and my hips strain against him trying to join the moment. As his body begins to sink back to earth, his busy fingers suddenly circle my clit quickly once, twice, three times, before pressing firmly against the straining nub, causing me to cry out in pleasure as stars dazzle behind my eyes and he collapses across me.
The staccato beating of my heart begins to regulate as I d
rag a few deep, shuddering breaths into my lungs, snuggling deeper against the arms encircling me tightly and the lips dropping small kisses in my hair.
My wrists are suddenly released, and I stretch my arms in the air, shaking my wrists to get the blood flowing as Heath slips into the bathroom to flush the condom, before stalking back into the bedroom to stare at my boneless body lying wasted on top of the covers.
Leaning over to drop a sweet kiss on my lips, he sits beside me on the bed, sweeping a large hand across my hips and belly, before beginning to tickle me mercilessly.
"Stop!" I beg, choking on my laughter and curling into a fetal position to ward off the attack.
Finally relenting, Heath lifts my hand to place a gentle kiss across the back, before turning it over and licking up the center of my palm. Freak.
"So, what does my lady wish to do tonight?"
Correction. What a gentleman.
Chapter 29
Pizza and Priorities
"Honestly, I'm starving. Are you hungry?" I answer, shivering slightly, whether from the sweat slowly dissipating from my naked body, or the gentle sweep of his hand up and down my thigh.
"Do you want to go out?" he asks.
"Not really. How about pizza and a movie? I know it's not exciting, but right now it sounds…"
"Perfect," Heath finishes my sentence, stepping away from the bed to search for his clothes in our pile of discards. Staring at his back, I'm struck by the tattoo between his shoulder blades that I hadn't noticed previously.
"When did you get that tattoo? It's really beautiful. Let me see it up close."
Pulling on his pants, Heath steps backs to the bed, sitting beside me again so that I can examine what I thought was a star. The design is quite intricate, the points star-like, but now recognizable as the points on a compass. Where you would expect to see the letters for north, south, east, and west, there are words.
The south tip is labeled ‘family.’ The east and west tips designate ‘mind’ and ‘body.’ Finally, the northernmost point is labeled ‘soul.’ Running a finger along each point, I wonder about it's significance but hesitate to ask.
"I felt a little lost after Lori left. I was angry and conflicted, because even though her cheating was unforgivable, I really was sorry that she spent so many years feeling like she needed to live a lie."
The tension in Heath's back relaxes as I run my hand lightly up and down his spine.
"When I was kid, my dad and I spent a year going on weekend hikes when I was trying to earn my Eagle Scout badge. He taught me how to read a compass, but he also told me a compass is like your conscience. You can never get lost as long as you follow your true north, but each of us has to determine what our true north is.
"Once Lori left, I was having trouble dealing with my anger. I couldn't understand why she felt cheating was the answer, but I was also trying to understand what it would feel like to hide such a big part of yourself for so long. My dad reminded me that I needed to find my true north again.
"So that's it. My moral compass has always been driven by my family, strength of mind, sound body, but mostly, what feeds my soul. I think I hoped if I tattooed it on my body, maybe I wouldn't be as likely to forget what was important to me," he ends with a self-conscious laugh.
Leaning forward, I kiss each point on the star, lingering on his soul.
"Don't worry. If you forget again, I'll be here to remind you," I promise, shocked to realize it's true. I'd like to be around for this man, to see what feeds his soul.
Pushing between his shoulder blades, I force him from the bed before swinging my legs over the side, running my hands through my hair.
Tipping a finger under my chin, Heath drops a kiss on my lips, wrapping a hand around one bare breast.
"Maybe we should have another round of dessert first."
"But, pizza…" I whine. "I'll let you choose the movie."
Tweaking my nipple between two fingers, he steps back. "Well, how could I refuse that offer? But I need to know something important first."
Worried by his suddenly serious expression I try to match his tone.
"Shoot."
"What do you want on your pizza?"
I love a man who knows what's truly important.
* * *
I've got this down, I congratulate myself. I can be a good girlfriend. I know how to compromise, and I can make sacrifices for the good of the relationship.
I nixed the onions, but I gave in on the peppers. Sausage and mushrooms gave us both key compatibility points. I even agreed to red sauce rather than my usual white pizza.
Heath spoiled me with an expensive bottle of Cabernet, and I allowed him my favorite corner of the couch, although I snuggled up next to him.
It took a while to coax Daisy out of hiding. It seems she was a bit alarmed by our mattress antics, but all was forgiven as soon as she heard the cabinet open in the kitchen. Slinking along the wall, she lingered in the kitchen doorway, hesitantly rubbing up and down the frame until Heath offered her a bite of sausage from his pizza. Little traitor. He had her literally eating out of his hands.
"What shall we watch?" I ask, handing him the remote. I hope he understands how important that small gesture is. It's like bestowing the crown on the heir apparent. Not that I really care what we watch, it’s more that I have given him control of something in my eminent domain.
"What do you like?" he asks, flipping through stations. "Romance, comedy, foreign, classic, horror?"
"Definitely not horror," I say with a shudder. "Not unless you relish staying up all night with me as I jump at shadows."
"Tempting, but impractical. Okay, no horror, since I can't always be here to defend you. Sci-fi?"
"Sure, I like a good space fantasy, especially if it has sexy alien warriors."
Snuggling into Heath's side as we both stretch out on the couch, I'm struck by how well we fit together. His height allows my head to tuck conveniently back against his chest and rest under his chin, and my ample hips nestle quite nicely into his lap. My outstretched legs are considerably shorter, but he's trapped them between his own. All in all, he makes for quite a teddy bear of a body pillow.
The movie is good, but I conveniently forgot to mention my tendency to fall asleep while watching movies at home. Without a movie theater full of people and fresh popcorn, my mind starts to wander. This time, my body is still too aware of Heath's to relax fully, but my mind has already found other prey.
Lady Sydney has begun whispering in my ear. She's slowly peeling back the curtain on her secrets and begging me to listen, dialogue and scenes building in a flurry as I struggle to follow the path of the storyline.
"Are you ok?"
"What?" I tilt my head back, finding Heath's concerned gaze.
"You're fidgeting and twitching like you can't wait to get away."
Sighing, I sit upright, knowing I probably look as guilty as I feel.
"I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me."
The screen freezes as Heath hits pause on the remote, looking troubled.
"That's never a good start to any discussion."
"No, really. Can I ask a favor?"
Waiting for his nod, I blunder on.
"I really want to spend this time with you, but my muse is calling and I hate to ignore it. It's hard enough to get ideas flowing on a good day. If I don't write stuff down when it comes to me, I forget it. Then I beat myself up for days after that."
"You want me to leave?"
"God, no! I was just hoping that maybe you wouldn't mind if I grabbed my laptop and typed out a few ideas while you were watching the movie. I promise I won't be long."
"Josie, I'm here to spend time with you, not chain you to my side. If you need to write, then write! Do you need to go to the other room where it's quiet?"
"No, but I might put in my earbuds and stream some music so I can tune out the movie. Music helps me get in the zone."
"Then do what you need to do. I'm not going anywhere unles
s you ask me to."
Hopping from the couch, I grab my laptop and earbuds from the desk, before taking a new position and stretching out on the opposite side of the sofa. I'm just tall enough that my legs cross Heath's lap. His hands immediately cover my feet, and I sigh in pleasure as the gentle stroking lulls me into a state of contentment.
Words begin to fly from my fingertips as Sydney and Cedric discover their passion for one another, coming together sweetly in their shared longing to finally be together, regardless of their station in society.
Knuckles roll up and down the arch of my foot, my toes twitching in pleasure as they attempt to curl around the hand massaging its way around my ankles and finding small acupressure points throughout.
"Mark was right." Heath's voice penetrates my earbuds as I realize the screen has been paused on the movie credits, silencing the TV.
"What?" Lifting my head from the armrest where I unconsciously arched back in pleasure, Heath grins from the other end of the couch.
"Mark said you purr like a kitten when you get your feet rubbed. It looks like he was right."
Remembering the circumstances of my last foot rub, and what came before, I'm a bit aghast at the thought.
"You and Mark talked about me?"
"Of course. Did you think we wouldn't?"
"Well, I guess I didn't think about it at all. Isn't that a little weird, knowing what I'm doing with him?" My cheeks redden at the memory of our cook-offs. "Just how much detail did you get into?"
"You mean do I know about your naked kitchen antics? Yeah, he spilled it all. At least I think so." Shrugging, Heath encourages, "But feel free to tell me your version, and let's see if he left anything out."
"Why are you comparing notes? Isn't that a bit salacious? I don't know how I feel about that. I'm not someone you gossip about in the locker room! Geez."
Yanking my feet away, I'm surprised when Heath grabs them again, returning them firmly to his lap.
"Look, Josie, we said we were all going to play this out as adults. Meaning we needed to communicate and not hide things from one another. We're not trying to one up each other. We're just trying to make sure that there's equal effort to make you happy. If that means stealing a few tips about what turns you on and gets you hot, I'm ok with that. I can reign in my jealousy if it means picking up some advantages along the way."
Corsets and Quartets Page 26