by KJ Reed
“Half of them were passed out by the time we dragged them all to their bunks, and the other half were lying down for a nap. They’re safe, all snug in their beds. Everyone knows to radio me if they wake up and start making noise.”
“If that’s the case then why are you— Ah!” She screamed and covered herself automatically as the shower curtain was yanked back. The feminine, involuntary gesture annoyed her, but she’d always been one to be easily startled.
Brice stepped in, completely naked, and cut off any ideas of protest she could have managed to give. The spray of water against his skin, shades darker than hers, made him gleam. Oh, she would love to run her tongue down every line and curve of his torso.
No. No she wouldn’t. Because she was still angry. Because he was an assuming jerk.
He reached out and smoothed back her soaking wet hair. She couldn’t very well pull away, given it was a shower and there was nowhere to go but out. And she wasn’t done yet. Plus, it’d look childish.
“Sorry.”
She huffed. “Well you should be sorry. You know I startle easily.”
He grinned and smoothed his hands down her jaw, around her neck to her shoulders where he rubbed gently. “But that cute little girly squeak you made was so adorable.”
She slapped at his hands for that, but he only laughed. The deep chuckle echoed off the tile walls, which made the space seem even smaller, his presence even larger. Enveloping her senses.
“That’s not what I’m sorry for though. I was wrong about earlier. To assume you had some sort of weird ulterior motive for being in there with the guys. Stupid of me. I shouldn’t have jumped on it.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Okay, Brice apologizing was akin to the apocalypse. And twice in one week. First at the reception, now here. It was official. The world was coming to an end.
“Why do you look so shocked?”
“Because you never apologize.”
He shook his head. “I do. When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong.”
“Not to me, you don’t.”
He stepped forward, backing her up until her shoulders pressed against the cold tile. “You don’t always bring out the best in me.”
“What a compliment.” Her snark didn’t keep him from advancing.
“It’s not meant to be. It’s just the truth. My…instinct sometimes gets in the way.”
Wow. The thought that Brice had a fault, and was admitting it to her in such a real, vulnerable way, was powerful. It was the first hint of something he couldn’t always control, and she wanted more. She wanted him in complete abandon.
“Apology accepted?”
She bit her lip, wondering if she could prolong the torture a little. But that wasn’t fair. An honest moment didn’t deserve careless play. With a nod and a grin, she reached up on her toes and gave him a kiss. He pressed fully into her, chest molding to her breasts, belly to belly. His cock, stiff and straight out, pressed against her rib cage. She rolled her legs, just to tease a little.
He hissed and tore his lips away. “Time to play then, hmm?”
“Yes, please.”
“On your knees.”
Yes, please.
Brice held his breath. Would she? Or like always, would Mary Ellen buck against any idea of authority and do the exact opposite of what she’d been asked…or commanded.
But with only the hint of a smile, she gave no resistance and dropped down in the shower. He angled his back to keep the water from hitting her and watched.
Watched while she spread her hands across the tops of his thighs, rubbed around to his ass, kneaded the muscles. Her short hair shone with amber, copper and brass highlights, and was pushed back from her face, showcasing her tiny features. She was so delicate, and yet she attacked everything with a larger-than-life attitude and a vitality that confused even him.
She played, because that’s who she was, teasing him with soft kisses on the tops of his thighs, his abdomen, the base of his cock. One hand gently cupped his balls, kneading them with a pressure that was just enough to make him weak, not enough to hurt. But he knew Mary Ellen. The thought that she had him, quite literally, by the balls pleased her, and he saw the glint in her eyes.
Her attitude always amused him, even as it confused him. So confident, so willing to put herself out there, to be so sure she wouldn’t get hurt. Or if she would, that she could recover.
The sign of someone who grew up confident in the unconditional love around them, never once doubting her family wanted her. Cherished her.
One long lick up the underside of his shaft made him bite back a moan. No, she’d have to work harder than that for a response. The tip of her tongue traced around the top of his cock, dipping into the slit, around the underside of the head. He would have sworn he just got a little harder, if that was even possible.
She opened her mouth to take him in, and his breath caught. But she grinned and moved back to circle teasing kisses once more.
So she wanted to think she was in control. Good try. He gripped the back of her head and angled it so she looked at him.
“Playtime’s over, baby. Open that beautiful mouth for me.” She stared at him, almost mulish in her stubbornness. He used his thumb to gently massage the side of her jaw until her lips parted almost naturally, and he pressed forth. It was either jerk away, or open up.
Thank God she opened. Her sweet, pink lips took inch after inch of his cock, so many shades darker than her own marble-white skin, and he was in heaven. When he was almost all the way in, she wrapped a small fist around the base of his cock and squeezed. The pressure, combined with the hot wetness of her mouth, had him holding in a curse.
“Suck, baby. Come on.”
She rotated her hand, the friction and the suction a delicious combination. If he wasn’t careful, if he didn’t hold himself back, he’d be going off in a matter of seconds. His hand guided her back, until the head grazed her teeth. He hissed, not from pain. No, because it was just the right amount of sting to take the pleasure to another level. As if it could go any higher.
Once more she took him in, using her hand to cover his entire length and sucked. Her little hum of pleasure shot straight through him and he gritted his teeth in the fight against his own orgasm.
He wasn’t going to last. He’d worry about the embarrassment of it later.
“Pull back, babe. I want to fuck that sweet mouth of yours.” She obeyed immediately, adding to his pleasure. And he pushed in, backing out gently, slowly arching his hips in an intimate rhythm, making use of her warm mouth.
And if the expression on her face was any hint, she wasn’t at all upset about it. He paused, and as if they’d been lovers for years, she knew instinctively what he wanted. She sucked hard, squeezing her hand around his base, using the other to tug with soft finesse on his balls.
He pulled back, pushed forward again and was too close to hold off any longer.
“I’m going to come, baby,” he ground out. He thought she’d pull away, finish with her hand. Expected it. But she kept going, sucking harder, squeezing in rhythm with his thrusts, caressing his balls until the pressure built up and spilled over and he came, hot jets in her mouth. She groaned, sucking greedily, the vibration only prolonging the release and his reaction.
A long moment passed, her still on her knees, looking up at him, pleased as hell with herself. He used his arms for support against the shower wall, not wanting to collapse on top of her. Because his legs just felt that weak.
“I always like to bring a man to his knees, figuratively of course.” She smiled like a cat who found the milk pail uncovered. If there was a sexier sight on earth, he couldn’t dream one up. Then her head tilted and her lips curved. “Though the fact that I’m the one on my knees makes it a little more amusing.”
Damn, she was still kneeling on the shower floor. He reached and pulled her up, pressing her back against the tile. Because he couldn’t seem to resist, he kissed her nose, her cheek, her jaw, below her ear.
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br /> “Your turn.” He wasn’t one to leave his woman behind on the count. With one hand, he hitched her left leg up, opening her to him, giving him access to what he wanted.
The humidity of the shower and the hot dampness of her pussy mingled, and the first cautious touch felt like fire. She was ready, so damn ready for him, he could have pounded into her in a moment and she’d have no complaints. But this was for her. All her.
He sucked gently at her skin, bit the tendons running between her neck and shoulder. She arched with grace, giving him better access. And he let one finger circle the rim of her damp opening before coming up to graze her clit. She shuddered, a little sound caught in her throat.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please, Brice.”
The vulnerability she showed, just for him, pinched his heart more than she could have ever known. Tough little Mary Ellen, always so brash and sure and loud and confident. Reduced to little, whispered pleading. And yet, she never seemed to have a problem with it. Was never ashamed to show him her desires, to show him exactly what she wanted, how much she wanted it. To give up that façade for him.
He was proud of her strength, even as he envied it a little. Hopefully she always had enough strength for the both of them.
The pad of his thumb circled her clit, pressing against the side like Morse code. Her hips thrust forward, silently begging for more. He’d give it to her. In the end, it seemed as if he couldn’t deny her much of anything. He held off so long, fighting their attraction, the possibility of their being together, all for nothing. Brice couldn’t stay away from Mary Ellen any more than he could quit breathing.
He let his fingers drift down, thumb still working her clit. One slowly entered her, then two, satisfied with the way her pussy clamped down on him in intimate rejoice.
A little mewling gasp escaped her lips and he smiled against her wet skin. Soap. She wasn’t one to use frilly, girly bath gels and scents. She was good, clean and simple. He only wished the angle would give him better access to her breasts. Next time…
“Oh my— Oh my God. Brice.” He felt her whole body tighten up, including around his fingers. She vibrated with the effort to hold back her climax, to deny herself as long as possible.
He bit one earlobe. “Come for me, baby. Now, come on.”
And he pressed hard, using a rapid rhythm with his thumb that left her no choice but to shatter around him. He tightened his grip on her leg, pressed her a little harder to the wall to keep her upright as she shook with the force of her release. Her cries echoed in the small room, seeming twice as loud, twice as insistent.
And then she went limp, all but draping herself over his shoulders, as if the effort, the very strength to stand was beyond her.
No problem, he thought as he shut off the water and stepped out with her, drying her off. He could be strong for both of them.
Chapter Seven
Mary Ellen blinked, not sure what caused her to wake up in the middle of the night. But unfortunately, now she was up. Never fun, but that’s how her system worked. Instead of moving, rolling out of bed to go accomplish something like she normally would, she waited. Breathed deeply for a moment. Let the scent of Brice fill her, let his warmth surround her a little longer. She was glad he’d insisted on coming back to his cabin, with its king-size bed to accommodate his height.
With her back to his chest, his arm around her waist, hand curving around one breast with unconscious instinct, she felt protected. Cherished. Loved.
Not that he’d dare utter the “L” word. No, that would take too much faith, give up too much control to an unknown. A feeling. Huge emotions like that weren’t something Brice was willing to surrender, not easily and not without a lot of struggle. If she wanted his love, she’d have to work for it. Earn it.
And she wanted it. He didn’t realize how special he was. How giving and sweet he could be. Yeah, sure, he gave off the domineering, I’m in charge here attitude. But it wasn’t him. Not an act, per se, but a thin veneer to cover up something else. If she wanted him in her life, she needed to crack that top layer and see what was underneath. He’d have to let her.
And it started with seeing how easily he could let go of the reins.
She rolled over, pushed his shoulder gently until he was flat on his back and climbed on top of him.
He slept on, like a coma patient.
“Figures,” she mumbled. She just had to pick now to try out a seduction. But she’d started, so she’d finish. Kissing her way around his jaw, the bristle scratching at her lips, she rubbed her hands up and down his arms. She looked down and watched her fingers glide around his biceps. She loved the beautiful contrast of her pale skin against his slightly darker-than-tan coloring. Unique to them.
He shifted, as if subconsciously aware of her touch, but not quite ready to slip into awake status. The rising erection beneath her butt though, that was becoming more ready by the minute.
Men. They could get a boner even in their deepest REM cycle.
She worked her hands down his chest, over his ribs where she knew he was ticklish. A little poke had him squirming, closer to the surface of consciousness. One hand continued to play over his ribs, fingers walking over each bone as the other reached behind and took a firm grasp of his now-hard cock.
“Hmm?” His eyes didn’t even crack, but he turned his head to the side.
“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey,” she sang softly, teasingly.
“Eggs? Huh?” His voice rusty with sleep, he cracked one eye and stared at her. Though to be honest, she wouldn’t have been shocked if he was still sleep-blind. “There’s eggs?”
She blew out a breath, shifting some of her hair off her forehead. “No. There’s not eggs. Nice to know where your mind immediately goes upon waking up, though.”
“Well good Christ, Mary Ellen, it’s—” He turned to peer at the bedside clock. “Three-fourteen in the morning. Sorry for not being with it.”
She squeezed his cock, ran her palm down the length with enough pressure to have him open his other eye.
“What are you doing up there?”
Ah, there we go. Finally starting to catch on. “I’m having my way with you.”
“Easy enough when the guy’s not awake.” In one agile movement, he rolled them both over until she was pressed into the mattress. One knee firmly planted between her thighs, forearms caging her shoulders. She wasn’t moving unless he let her.
“Hey. I wasn’t finished up there. Let me up.”
“Uh huh.” He nipped her lip, soothed his tongue over the same spot. “Now I’m the one who’s up. Or is this not what you wanted?”
“Not really.” She pushed ineffectively on his chest. She had no strength this way, no leverage. “I wanted to be in charge this time.”
“Mmm. But I like you this way.”
She wasn’t surprised. “Why don’t I get a vote?”
As if he didn’t hear her, he worked his lips down her collarbone, pulling up her sleep tank at the same time until one nipple was exposed. He gave one long, hot lick then blew on the damp skin until the tip hardened tightly. “There we go.” He sucked the distended point into his mouth, and her pussy responded immediately with little tingles.
Oh God that felt so good. She gripped his wrists, hips twisting, looking for friction…wait. No, it was her turn. She rotated her torso until his mouth let go.
“Seriously.” She fought to control her breathing even as he pressed his cock against her mound, the pressure only distracting her. She had to push back against the wave of pleasure to keep her mind clear. “It’s my turn to lead for once.”
His face, previously playful and languid in the hopes of some languid, sleepy lovemaking, hardened. “I lead.”
She blew out a breath. “This isn’t the tango.” When he raised a brow, she rolled her eyes. “Not that tango. The ballroom tango. Foxtrot. Waltz. Whatever. Guys don’t have to always lead. I want a chance.”
He shook his head once. “This is my thing.”
He took another nip at her breast, and she almost let the whole thing go. “Am I not satisfying you?”
“You know you are,” she grumbled and twisted again to break contact. “But I want a turn. Somehow you always end up the one calling the shots.”
“I don’t see the problem here.” He kissed her, tongue delving in to meld with hers. His weight settled more fully on her, the head of his cock scraping past her clit to rest close to her center.
She pulled back. “I think that’s the problem.”
Brice cocked his head to one side. “You just lost me. What’s the problem?”
“You don’t see why it’s a problem that you can’t step back and let me control something for once?”
He didn’t say a word, didn’t move a muscle. She groaned and, with a few interesting and somewhat painful maneuvers, rolled out from under him. Where were her shorts? There. She grabbed them off the back of the chair where they’d landed earlier and started dressing.
“What are you doing?”
“Making an omelet. What does it look like?” she snapped.
“You don’t have to leave.”
“Yeah, I do.” Shirt. Where was her…ah. Shirt on and halfway buttoned, she looked back up. “You need to figure this thing out. I like when you take control. It’s sexy. It drives me nuts. It’s your thing. I get it. But I’m not a wallflower, Brice. I don’t just sit in corners and wait for others to do for me. I want to lead sometimes. If that’s not something you’re capable of, well…” She finished the last button with shaking fingers and shrugged. As she slipped on her flip-flops, she heard the bed creak behind her. She knew what he was doing. Getting dressed. Even in the middle of a fight, he’d walk her to her cabin rather than her go alone in the dark. It’s just the kind of guy he was.
And she could appreciate him for who he was. But she didn’t always have to like it. This was one of those times.
“Don’t bother,” she said, knowing it was pointless.
He huffed as he slipped on a pair of jeans. Her mouth watered just a little as the denim slid over his butt, as he hopped and shook to reposition his erection enough to zip up.