Morning Man

by Barbara Kellyn

  He cupped her face and gazed upon it with so much love that it took her breath away. Tunneling his fingers in her hair, he tilted her back to receive his kiss and she opened eagerly, welcoming him with abandon. Without letting go, he lowered himself onto the bed and brought her on top of him. He felt his way along her sides and around to her back, moving lower to hold down her hips as she pressed harder into him.

  With a sudden gasp, she broke their kiss. “I hate to rush this beautiful moment, baby,” she said breathlessly, “but I really need you inside me now.” Her hands trailed down his stomach and met at the waistband of his jeans, making quick work of undoing his belt. She popped the button free and lowered the zipper before she reached inside, stroking the hard length of him. He groaned, and she stifled the noise with her open mouth, seeking out his tongue to lick and suck while her hand continued its sensual massage. Without any prompting, he worked his jeans and boxer briefs off and rolled onto her, the weight of his body parting her thighs and pinning her against the mattress. After lavishing kisses all over her neck and shoulders, he pulled back and grinned, his breath coming hot and fast. “Now look who’s overdressed.”

  “Do something about that, will ya?” she panted, spreading her thighs more as her fingers dug in the smooth, bare flesh of his firm backside.

  “All in good time, sugar,” he said, rocking his hips to push himself against her. “I want to make this last.”

  “Oh, dear God.” Her head rolled back and she thought it might explode on the pillow. “Torture goes against the Geneva Convention, you know.”

  “Lucky for us, we ain’t in Geneva,” he said, nudging her sheer cami up to her chin. “So let’s see if you can take it as good as you give it.” He cupped and squeezed the swell of one breast, rolling his thumb around the nipple until it puckered hot and tight before bathing it with his tongue. She moaned her approval, fisting his hair to hold his head in place as much as to hang on to something. By the time he’d devoted the same agonizingly sweet attention to the other side, her every nerve ending had lengthened and doubled in sensitivity. He trailblazed a row of burning kisses between her breasts to her stomach as her lips curved into a smile, knowing relief was mere seconds away.

  “You know what I can’t stop thinking about? Getting another peek at that sexy little butterfly of yours.” He kissed his way down her body, sliding lower on the bed before finally peeling back the top elastic band of her pink briefs. “Where was she hiding again? Ah yes, now I remember.” Each of the softly-inked wings received gentle brushstrokes with his tongue while his hands eased down her bottoms until they were completely off. She clutched the pillow under her head, stealing a glimpse at him nuzzling between her legs before she clamped her eyes shut and saw stars.

  Surrendering completely, her restless mind gave in to her body’s urgent need to yield to the pleasure, the honeyed heat of his mouth licking, laving and gradually building and winding the tension deep inside her. She writhed and when her hips rose up to meet him, he shifted, holding them down firmly in a silent reminder to let go and she did, allowing him to take her to whatever heights he intended her to reach. As the rhythm within grew stronger, more insistent, all she could think of was him and the heat and ache and want spreading everywhere, her taut legs shaking uncontrollably as her body clenched and twisted and trembled under his possession. The higher he took her, the tighter she spiraled and she never wanted him to stop, wanted him to stop–Oh God, never wanted him to stop–until a mind-blowing surge of relief overcame her. Darkness suddenly became screamingly, blindingly bright and heaviness gave way to lightness and she cursed and cried out for him, coming completely undone, rolling with every sweet shudder, releasing the tension inside like the spring-loaded valve of a pressure cooker.

  When he finally stopped, she needed a moment to catch her broken breath, collect the shattered pieces of her mind, pull together the frayed ends of her nerves. There was definitely a good reason the French called it la petite mort, she moaned in her head as she slowly came around to resurrecting.

  He stretched out next to her, smiling, as if waiting for a word, an utterance, an assurance. But in her weakened state, all she could do was mewl. “That good, huh?”

  She nodded, reaching out for him in gratitude. “Oh yeah, baby,” she whispered hoarsely, still wracked by aftershocks. “I think I’m still coming. I may keep coming for days.”

  He felt under the pillow for a condom, using his teeth to tear back the crinkly foil. “Then let’s not waste another second.”

  She cupped her hand around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers, devouring him with a renewed hunger as he maneuvered into position over her. Drunk with lust and dizzy with anticipation, her hands slid down his muscular back, pushing his hips downward. He taunted her with a series of excruciating movements, just a bit, just a brush, just a bump, and she thought the rush of heat and blood coursing through her pulsing veins would cause them to burst under her skin.

  “Stop teasing and fuck me,” she demanded. In an instant, he took her, filling her, and they both moaned aloud, savoring the pure ecstasy of finally being together.

  “Oh, God, Dayna,” he gasped, his eyes locked on hers as he slowly, deliberately began to move inside her.

  Her mouth opened to speak his name, yet nothing came out but a soft, trembling sigh as she finally took a breath. She slid against his body, clinging to his shoulders as he kissed her deeply. You’re like no one else, she shuddered, their lovemaking transcending anything she’d ever known before.

  He reached for her thigh, stroking the length of the leg wrapped around him, and gripped her waist tight with the other hand as he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him without completely pulling out.

  “Smooth move,” she said, grinning from above.

  “Thought you’d like that,” he said, gulping for air as she sank down onto him.

  “You know what straddling you like this reminds me of?”

  He nodded. “Our photo shoot. I wanted to fuck you so bad that day. And every day since.”

  “Me too.” She swallowed her lust as the heat smoldered and spread deep in her core. His hands skimmed over her silky camisole until he was fondling both breasts through the slippery fabric. He tugged the lace hem upward, just high enough to bare her breasts at first, before deciding that the whole damn thing needed to go. She helped him strip it off and tossed it on the floor with the rest of their discarded clothes. If it was possible for him to get any harder, he did, and she rocked faster, her mouth opening in an “oh” as a barely audible but deeply pleasurable moan escaped her.

  “Slow, baby, slow,” he reminded her with a thick and husky murmur. She leaned down and kissed him feather-light, the tip of her tongue glancing his soft whiskers and flicking at his lips while his hands teased and squeezed her breasts. Her fingers sank deep into the pillow under him and she lost her mind as he suckled one rigid nipple, then the other, wickedly alternating the sensation as the pressure welled up again. She splayed herself even wider, giving him everything he could take and taking everything he could give. His hands slid down to her rear, fingers digging into the flesh as he coaxed her rhythm to follow and then deliberately move counter to his.

  “God, Tack, it feels so fucking good.” She panted hard like a woman possessed. “Don’t stop.”

  A guttural grunt came as his only response while he concentrated, his eyes fixated as she gyrated and bounced on him. From his flushed face, the hunger in his darkened eyes, the hotness of his breath on her flesh, she witnessed the effect of their synchronicity as the bed rocked underneath them. She loved knowing that she made him so hard, made him so wild with desire. She was doing this. She felt her charged body engorging, pulsating, opening, ripening toward the full bloom of–Omigod, could this really be happening again–another mind-quaking climax.

  “Yeah,” he groaned, “now, baby. Come for me now.”

  And then, just as she silently prayed it would never end, the damn broke with a forceful
surge and shimmering sparks burst behind her eyelids in a vivid explosion of light. She lost it, lost it completely, giving it all up and crying out as she drowned in an even stronger, longer, deeper orgasm. Coming, coming, coming. She was about to fall forward onto his broad, damp-with-sweat chest when she opened her eyes in time to see his eyes close, his face contorted with pleasure. Panting, he clung tight to her and she continued to spasm and squeeze, moving back and forth on him. She loved her vantage point, the sheer power of being on top and in control and knowing that she made him feel so good that he had no choice but to thrust once, twice and...oh yes, jackpot.

  “Jesus,” he choked out, his raspy, rough voice straining behind clenched teeth as he threw his head back.

  She stayed on him until he finally pulled her down for a long, languid kiss. “Oh, that was…that was–” He struggled for words.

  “Incredible? Out of this world? Life affirming?” She smiled through hazy eyes before sliding off and weakly lowering herself down to his side. Curling against him, she draped one arm over his heaving chest and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling his hot skin still pulsating, his heart still pounding.

  “All of the above and more.” He grinned and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, sugar,” he whispered.

  “I love you too.” She smiled, utterly happy, entirely satisfied and completely in love with the only man, radio or otherwise, ever meant for her.

  * * * *

  Tack slept curled close behind Dayna. The warm, intimate spooning that she so craved was quickly becoming his favorite way to sleep beside her. She stirred during the night, stretching alongside him beneath the sheet. Without opening his eyes, he instinctively pulled her in closer, the smooth roundness of her shapely bottom nestled against him, arousing a tingling, twitching flashback to their coupling hours before. She sighed softly. Slowly, sleepily, sensually, he pressed and grinded up against her, finding her ear with his lips as his hands traveled the slope of her hip to the top of her thigh, then completed the circuit again.

  “Don’t stop, baby,” she whispered, tilting her head in invitation for more. He bent down and kissed the curve of her neck, warmly scented like woman. She reached up behind her, stroking his face and rustling her fingers through his hair. The sheet slipped down, uncovering a sumptuously round breast, already peaked by a hard nipple. He cupped and lifted the velvety flesh, and she sighed in rapturous response to his playing and pinching. She turned over and he worshipped her breasts with his hands and mouth for a dreamlike eternity, leaving them only to find her mouth and kiss her until they were both fully roused from their warm, sleepy state. Her head settled into the crook of his neck, her breasts exquisitely cushioned against his chest as her hand slid beneath the sheet. She stroked him with unbearable delicacy, his blood pumping thick and hot everywhere but especially right there in her grip. “Mmm…my morning man,” she moaned with a lazy smile, softly biting into his shoulder.

  His hand glided along the length of her body, past her stomach and lower down to graze her with his fingers. She gasped, her breath coming fast, opening herself wide to him as he caressed her with deliberate rhythm. His tongue plunged into her mouth, emulating the pleasure still to come while she stretched, so hot and lovely in lust, her gyrating hips rising up to meet him. Her legs shook, a tremor that spread until she began to whimper, her body quaking under the pressure of his quickening fingertips. “Oh, God… Tack!” she cried out, clamping her thighs together, the motion of his hand caught in a vise of her desire as she spasmed hard against him.

  She floated down from her high, and he immediately ripped open a condom and rolled it on, needing to slide into her. He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, the other smoothing along the curvy path to her hip. Moving together, he sighed at how perfectly silky she felt, watching her lush mouth wordlessly call out his name. You’re like no one else. He rocked higher into her, faster, harder and she stayed with him, replicating his rhythm. But as soon as she thrust her legs into the air and pleaded for yes, yes, oh, yes more, there was a sudden surge that sent him over the edge. With a bone-deep shudder, he released and then collapsed on the bed next to her, completely spent and thoroughly satisfied.

  Their heavy breathing gradually subsided to the point they could finally speak. “Cowboy, you can rock my world like that every morning if you like,” she said with a soft laugh, her cool fingers tracing invisible patterns on his hot skin.

  “I’d love to,” he said, smiling at the happy thought. “Wake up for mind-blowing sex, do our show, come home, have more great sex, then a nap. Now, that’s the life.”

  “Then you’ll get up and make us dinner,” she said, playing with the hair on his chest. “And afterwards, I’ll drag you back in here to have my way with you again.”

  “Hoo boy, I’d better start taking vitamins.”

  “They say Vitamin D is especially good for male virility. Get it? D for Dayna?”

  “I get it.” He wrapped himself around his woman. “So, how soon can you move in here with me, Doctor Feelgood?”

  “Is right now soon enough? Everything I own is in my car downstairs.”

  “Perfect.” He grinned. His eyes closed under the heavy sedative of afterglow and the pure contentment of knowing that everything he’d ever wanted was drifting back to sleep in his arms.

  Chapter 21

  The buzzing in Dayna’s head roused her into consciousness. At first, she’d dismissed it as only a dream before hearing it again. Opening her eyes, she lifted her head from the pillow and realized it was actually the very real downstairs door buzzer. “Tack?” She gently shook him awake. “I think someone’s at the door.”

  “Huh?” He croaked with sleep thick in his voice.

  “The door.”

  He fought to open his eyes in the morning light, turning his head to look over at the bedside clock, reading three minutes after nine. He yawned and threw off his side of the covers, blindly feeling around on the floor for clothes.

  Dayna rolled onto her stomach, watching with a smile as he rose to his feet to drag his jeans up over his sturdy thighs and gorgeous rear end before stumbling into the hall.

  She flopped her head onto his pillow, still warm with the heady scent of him, man all man. Her mind idly drifted back to scenes from their intense lovemaking and the sensation of his hands, his mouth, his, sigh…everything. Already, she was aroused by the idea of him coming back to bed for more love play. Then move things into the shower. And then maybe on the couch. Ooh, or the kitchen counter…

  “Get dressed, sugar,” he called out. “We’ve got company.”

  She peeked over the side of the mattress and grabbed the plaid shirt Tack had worn the night before, quickly slipping it on and fastening the snap buttons. Good thing it had more than enough material to cover all the important parts. With her bags still in the front room, she had no other clothing option but her pink panties. She put them on, ran her hands through her disheveled hair, then followed the sound of voices to the door.

  “Dayna! You’re back?”

  “Bonnie?” She padded barefoot across the floor until she was standing beside Tack. He put an arm around her as she wrapped hers around his waist. “Yes, I got in yesterday,” she said with a grin. “In case you were wondering, we had a nice reunion.”

  He quirked his eyebrow. “A very nice reunion.”

  Bonnie nodded with a faint smile as she first eyed up Tack and then Dayna, who clued in to the visual joke of seeing him in only pants and her in only a top. “Well, I’m happy for you and that’s actually the reason I’m here.” She reached into her red handbag and produced a thin envelope, assumingly containing two checks totaling $12,000. “You’ll be glad to know I didn’t penalize you for the past two weeks.”

  Dayna reached for it as Bonnie snatched it out of her grasp again. “Wait a minute. Did you say that you got in yesterday?”

  She nodded. “I did.”

  Bonnie clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Well, accordi
ng to our deal, we agreed to eight weeks until Labor Day. And today is Labor Day, so technically–”

  “Bon,” he growled. “You put us through hell all summer long and now you’re going to stand there and quibble over semantics?”

  “Actually, she can’t, honey,” Dayna said, looking up at him, “because it’s been Labor Day since midnight.” She then looked to Bonnie, the money still in her grip. “We waited, Bonnie, swear on a stack of Bibles we did. That cash is ours fair and square.”

  She thrust out her little pug-shaped nose. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said, finally handing Dayna the envelope. “Congratulations, you two. I realize how difficult it’s been, and I do appreciate you staying true to your word.”

  “Thank you.” Tack bent down to give Dayna a brief kiss. “In the long run, the waiting was well worth it, wouldn’t you say?”

  She grinned. “Most definitely.”

  Bonnie cleared her throat. “Well,” she enunciated with a sharp nod. “I assume that you’ll both be back on the air first thing tomorrow?”

  “We’ll be there,” she assured.

  “Good. There are going to be some changes around the station that you should probably know about. For one, I’ve decided to hire Jared full time.”

  “Hey, that’s awesome. Tack and I have really grown fond of working with him.”

  Bonnie shook her head. “Oh, he won’t be doing the morning show. Jared’s getting his own slot.”

  Tack chuckled. “Good for the kid. Is he going to be evenings? Overnights?”

  “No, ten to two. I’m starting him on the midday shift,” she said.