I put a hand to his chest to stop his advance. "Stay where you are. I'm not done looking."
He looked surprised, but he didn't move.
"You're an object of art." I fell to my knees and gently took the base of his dick in my hand. It pulsed beneath my grip. The ache between my legs grew.
He was large and well hung. If I was going to hook up, I supposed that mattered. But better yet, he respected my wishes. He let me touch him without rushing me. He made me laugh. He made me feel beautiful. He made me forget. And he made me remember.
I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his dick. Then another and another. I circled it gently with my tongue, savoring, tasting.
He rested a hand on my head and ran his fingers through my hair. I had him nearly in my mouth, but the way he stroked my hair made me want to purr like a cat.
I kissed the tip of him again, slowly trailing my kisses down the shaft almost reverently. If you've had a fantastic sex life with your soul mate, and lost him, and all your sex drive with him, you might appreciate the awe I felt at finally feeling desire again. And holding a pulsing dick in my bare hands. One that was so lovely and enticingly ready. With a man behind it who was holding on and not prematurely reacting. The joy that awakening brought was indescribably erotic.
I was getting more and more turned on just touching him. I cupped the twins beneath the shaft and moved my kisses over them, giving him a hand job as I kissed the delicate piece of skin that held his balls to his groin. He moaned softly with pleasure, but he remained standing and still as I moved back up, kissing and licking his balls. Licking his dick.
I reached behind me and unfastened my bra. Shrugged it off. I wanted to touch him forever and string out the slow build. As tightly wound with desire as I was, the instant he touched me, I'd be over the edge. After so many years of celibacy, I wanted this first climax, I needed this first climax, to rock my world. I needed it to be as good as with Ruck.
I didn't mean to tease Lazer, but I couldn't expect him to restrain himself all night. I pulled away from him and got fully to my feet. Took his hand and pulled him to the edge of the bed. "Stand there."
I slid out of my panties, lay on my back on the bed with my head at his crotch, my hair tumbling over the edge of the bed, and gazed up at him. You are so beautiful. The thought echoed through my mind.
I took him in my mouth again. And reached behind him, grabbing his firm, tight ass, pulling him into me while controlling the rhythm.
His eyes were wide and dark with desire as he looked down at me as I sucked him and simulated the motion of sex. My breasts bounced and budded in the cool air, high with desire. I closed my eyes and listened to his groans, hearing him and feeling him grow closer and closer to climax.
Do it. Do it. Let go.
He cupped my breasts and I gasped, losing my rhythm for just a second.
"Beautiful," he whispered and leaned his head back, twirling my nipples gently between his fingers. He sucked in a great gasp of air.
I braced myself, ready to congratulate myself on a blowjob well done.
At the last minute, he gently pulled my head away. "Not yet." He bent over me, parted my legs, and kissed my inner thigh. Licking. Sucking. Moving higher. And higher. Closer.
I spread my legs wider and moaned softly as he stroked me with his fingers. His mouth was just inches away.
I was too close. Too far gone. Had gone far too long without. The first one would be the earth-shatterer. Inside. He had to be inside for it.
I grabbed his head and brought it up to look at me. "Get a condom."
He reached into a nightstand drawer for one.
"Kiss me," I whispered as he slid into bed next to me. I angled my lips toward his.
There was time when lying naked entwined in a man's arms was something I thought I'd never do again. Certainly not with a stranger. So why was I so comfortable now?
Lazer kissed me gently, grazing my lips with his, as if he'd always known how I liked to be kissed. I kissed him back, darting my tongue in the part between his lips. Feeling the heat between us as his Arrogance filled the room.
I took the condom from him, slid it on him, pulled him on top of me, and positioned him. "It's only going to take a few thrusts," I whispered. "Fuck me like you mean it."
He grinned. "Any way you want it."
He slid in with such force it took my breath away. I grabbed a handful of sheet to hold my position.
He thrust again, perched above me. "Damn you're tight. Sure you're not a virgin?"
I laughed and wrapped my legs around his back, digging my heels into him. "You haven't seen anything yet." I squeezed him harder.
"Fuck."
"Exactly. Do your job, playboy." I took his face in my hands, and stared up at him, hoping he didn't see how grateful I was to him for awakening this desire with such force. He didn't realize what a beast he'd released.
I pressed my lips roughly to his and thrust up to meet him. Again. And again. The bed rocked. The headboard slammed against the wall. I sank into the plush mattress topper as he went deep into me again and again.
I closed my eyes and let the waves build. Rose up to meet them. Let myself bloom for him. Felt the crest coming and imagined myself riding it.
Then I was moaning into his mouth. And sighing. And cresting and cresting and cresting. And trying to call someone's name. Maybe it was his.
Chapter 4
Lazer
Women typically wanted to please me in bed. It was just the way it was. I was under no illusions. Ninety-nine percent of them wanted to shag and then snag a billionaire. The snagging was a lost cause. I always made that clear up front. I rarely bothered texting afterward unless I was really interested. And when I was, I was only looking for a little additional fun.
But hope is such a damn persistent animal. And inconvenient for me when a woman wouldn't take the hint that fun was fun and nothing more. My commitment issues were genetic and not bound to change. Let the experience be something to check off their bucket list and move on. Stop hoping to win the marriage lottery with me.
As much fun as I'd had in bed, no woman had ever had the reverence for my body that Ashley had. No woman had ever been as conscious of my needs. I was blown away. It was hot as hell.
As I lay next to her in bed, enjoying the sight of her naked body, I pulled her into the crook of my arm. Tenderness and cuddling after sex was something I enjoyed. I couldn't stop myself from grinning at her. For some inexplicable reason, I felt as ecstatic as the very first time. The sex had been mind-blowing. "You can't tell me married sex gets any better than that? We didn't seem to have any problems moving together."
"Mmmmmm…no, our rhythm seemed pretty perfect." She smiled drowsily. It was a look I recognized as happily sated. "Beginner's luck."
"Who are you calling a beginner?"
She nudged me playfully with her shoulder and put a hand across her abdomen. "Don't be offended. You know what I mean. You and me—first-timers with each other."
She paused, looking thoughtful. "And yeah, that was pretty great. Imagine how good we could be together if we took the time to practice. That's what married sex is all about. Practice making perfect and bringing the pleasure to new, uncharted levels. It's a long game."
I leaned up on one elbow and studied her face. She had beautiful, expressive hooded eyes. "Is that a marriage proposal, matchmaker? You are bold."
She laughed. "You wish, bachelor. I'd never make a marriage proposal to an almost complete stranger after knowing him only a matter of hours. Certainly not before interviewing him first and assessing his wants, values, and needs. His preferences and aspirations. And seeing if they matched or, at least, complemented mine."
"You don't trust your own judgment? Your gut reaction? Your own taste in men? I thought that's what you're all about?" She surprised me.
"Trust and verify." She leaned up on her elbow, too, as her hair fell over her arm and hid one delectable breast. "It's not only a
bout initial impressions. After only one 'date,' if you can call this that, I wouldn't even recommend going exclusive. Certainly not after a hookup."
She had beautiful, rich brown hair. Shiny. Thick. I couldn't stop looking at her. She was as distracting as her statement.
"You wouldn't? Even if a couple was falling madly in love?"
She shook her head and laughed. "No. Definitely not. Falling in love is a state of mind. It can be an illusion based on what you want the other person to be, not who they really are. And that's disastrous. Finding a soul mate is about much more."
"You really don't believe in love at first sight?"
"Absolutely not." Her beautiful eyes sparkled with amusement, but it was clear she was serious.
"Cynic!" I was having fun sparring with her. I wasn't usually the one who took the side of romance and romantics everywhere. "You're full of surprises. What about couples who swear they fell in love the moment they first locked eyes?"
She shrugged. "They're the lucky ones whose initial impressions proved correct. Their fantasy version and first impression matched the reality of who the other person really was upon further inspection. I'd counter with what about all the people who swore they fell in love at first sight and then had their hearts broken?"
I stared at her, liking her more and more. "I'll give you that."
"Marriage proposal!" She rolled her eyes. "You're too funny. Most people rush into exclusivity way too soon. The average American dating couple becomes exclusive within three to five dates. Way too early, in my opinion, and that of many dating experts.
"You need time to witness your dating partner's values in action. To see how they handle stress and adversity. To view and experience how much effort they're putting into the relationship. Effort is a key indicator of relationship success. If a person puts little to no effort in, they're not committed to the other person. All that takes time."
"I'm impressed. I like your philosophy."
"Don't get too excited. I do advise my clients to go exclusive eventually. Which, as you've admitted, is much too soon for you." She had a twinkle in her eye and a playful note in her voice.
"You're probably right. I'm still surprised you don't recommend exclusivity at first. Which means, I presume, that you can be dating several people at once."
She studied me, looking deep in thought a moment. "I'm almost afraid to encourage you. As if you need it." She grinned. "But, yes, seeing many people at once allows you to directly compare what you like in a partner against other suitable candidates and find what type of person and personality suits you best. It's an apples-to-apples kind of thing."
"You're saying my dating method is valid." I was teasing her.
"I'm not talking about men like you, commitmentphobes. I'm talking about people who are genuinely looking for a mate. You know that old Billy Joel song, 'The Stranger'?"
I nodded, remembering my mom playing it when I was young.
"It's like that. We all have many faces we put on around people. Roles we play. It's about finding the person that we feel comfortable dropping the mask and putting on our authentic face around. And seeing, and liking, theirs in return. Love comes down to finding the role we're most comfortable playing. When you find that person, you've found the one."
"That's a fascinating theory."
"It is, isn't it?" Her smile was dazzling. "I know my stuff. I'm a hell of a matchmaker."
"So you keep saying."
She laughed, sat up, and slid to the edge of the bed. "And for your information, I just violated one of my prime dating directives—never sleep with someone on the first date…encounter. Whatever."
"I bought you dinner. You can call it a date," I said.
"Are you giving me bragging rights? I dated a billionaire once. A story for my grandchildren?" She was obviously amused.
I liked her sense of fun and humor. "It's fine by me. As long as I get to add another notch to my bedpost."
"You're terrible!" She shook her head. "Back to sex—"
"Gladly." I reached for her, playfully, and made a look of exaggerated lechery and wolfishness.
She moved out of my reach. "Slow down there. I tell my clients to hold off as long as possible in the relationship. Sex complicates things."
"Not if you don't want it to."
"Not everyone's you," she said. "And you're a man. Men bond less over sex than the average woman does, even in the hookup culture."
"So why did you violate your policy?"
"It's more a guideline, really. I don't have many policies. My clients are grownups. They'll do what they do."
"You didn't answer my question. You found me simply irresistible, didn't you?"
She sighed, dramatically, mocking exasperation. "That's it exactly. I was drawn in by your powerful animal magnetism. Unable to resist the pull between us and the force of our attraction. I was crazy with lust for your body."
"Well, if that's all," I said.
"It's not all. When else would I have a chance to sleep with a billionaire? I wanted sex. That's all. Not a relationship, clearly. Or I would have held off. You and I aren't so different, really."
I stared at her. I was good at ferreting out lies. She seemed to be telling the truth.
She stood and began collecting her clothes.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting dressed. It's been fun. But I have an early flight in the morning. I need to get back to the hotel and pack. Write up my notes and thoughts about the trip." She slid her panties on and began fastening her bra.
"But the night's young." I was ready for round two.
"For some." She slipped her dress on.
I slid out of bed and into my briefs. I grabbed my pants. "I'll take you home."
"No need," she said, grabbing her shoes. "I'll get an Uber."
She headed for the living room.
"No. If you won't let me drive you I'll call the car service. They'll be here in minutes. I insist."
She shrugged, prettily, and grabbed her purse from the counter. "All right. I'd appreciate it, actually."
She dug into her purse and produced a business card. She held it out to me. "In case you have any single friends looking to find a wife. I always appreciate referrals. I'd love to match one of these delicious, hot Seattle men up with some of my single ladies. I'm even willing to give them a discount if they mention your name."
I took the card from her. "Is that your way of saying you had a good time tonight?"
She smiled. "You gave me exactly what I wanted. You were as good as your word." She paused. "I'm impressed. Thank you."
I walked her to the door.
"I'll walk myself down," she said.
On impulse, I kissed her. When I released her, we were both breathing hard.
She bit her lip and shook her head. "Goodbye, Lazer. It's been fun. And I mean it. My time here in Seattle has been better than I imagined it would be."
"Does this mean we beat out Man Jose?"
"Maybe." She brushed my cheek with the back of her hand. "Take care, Lazer."
Ashley
Have you ever felt guilt so strong you thought you'd throw up? Or had such chemistry with someone it scared you so badly you almost felt scarred from the occasion? And yet you were so deliriously happy that you could sing?
I can feel! I can feel again! I am a sexual creature. I haven't lost my womanhood or my sensuality. What a relief! What a guilt trip.
Sing. Scar. Throw up. Those were my apparent choices. Or maybe just my emotional reactions.
Somehow I managed to stay composed during the ride back to the hotel. But once in my hotel room, I collapsed on the bed, a complete, shaken-up mess. I'd run away from Lazer. Yes, I had. Early flight. Huh. Right. Totally an excuse. My flight wasn't until noon. I could sleep in and have a leisurely breakfast and still make it on time.
No, I was running. He'd shaken me to the center of who I was. Who was I? Ruck's wife. Ruck's loving, faithful wife. The girl who'd fallen in love wi
th him our freshman year of college. The girl who waited at home when he went off to battle the enemy. The young wife who matched up his friends. And dreamed of him endlessly and prayed for his safety. And loved him beyond reason.
The woman who died inside when he died all the way around. The woman who was sure there would never be anyone else for her. And the woman who was now awakened and couldn't get another man out of her head.
That was the problem. I couldn't get a playboy, never-going-to-commit kind of man out of my head. And I'd only just met him. I'd broken all my own rules. I'd been unfaithful to Ruck's memory.
I was both elated and scared by the force of my climax with Lazer. That kind of sex was with-Ruck kind of sex. And yet I was ecstatic at the same time, because I'd missed the sex and love so much. And the intimacy of kissing. And laughing with a man. Flirting and feeling sexy.
I'd thought I'd sleep with Lazer. Have some fun getting sexual again. That it would be nice. Good. I hadn't expected it to be off the charts. And maybe it was only because it had been so long and I was long overdue. Or maybe it was the thrill of being with such a rich man. But no matter what I told myself, it all sounded like an excuse. A denial of what seemed to be clearly in front of me—Lazer and I had chemistry. Really special, very rare physical attraction well beyond the ordinary. And worse, much worse, we had an extraordinary attraction to each other.
Why was that worse? Because attraction went beyond the physical. It was being magnetically, irresistibly drawn to the other person. The way they made you laugh. The way they listened to you.
As a matchmaker I knew one thing for sure—without physical attraction, 99.9 percent of my clients wouldn't progress to date number two. Without attraction in general, a future relationship was dead on arrival.
And that was really the crux of my guilt. I felt both for Lazer Grayson. It was so totally unexpected. And so highly inconvenient. If I ever fell for someone again, I wanted him to be a man Ruck would approve of. A full-blown committed man who'd love me beyond reason. Better to nip this now. That was what I would have advised any of my clients. And I am the relationship expert. If you're searching for a mate, throw out any candidates that exhibit one of your deal breakers. Commitment issues? Definite deal breaker.
Lazer Focused: A Jet City Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire Matchmaker Series Book 1) Page 5