Operation G-Spot

by Jodi Lynn Copeland

  He thought she might hesitate. Tell him he was a sicko again or give in to any number of creative put-downs. Whether it was simply implicit trust or she’d done as he’d suggested and gave in to the thrill of the sting, her anxiety suddenly seemed a thing of the past.

  Liz flicked her tongue out, dabbed at his finger like a cat sampling fine cream, and then opened her lips to him fully. He slid his finger inside the hot wet confines with a moan of approval. She lapped at the digit, worked her mouth up and down its length, increasing and decreasing the pressure the same way she did when it was his cock pushing between her full, feisty lips. A visual of it doing just that threatened. His control already too thin, he withdrew his finger before that vision could take shape.

  She released a throaty mmm. “It’s good, but still only my second favorite cream. I want to taste my first.”

  They were a play on words from their first cooking class together. He’d said them as a form of enticement. Her admission didn’t sound like taunting but fact. It made this seem like more than casual pleasure.

  Was it more?

  Dusty didn’t tense with the question the way he might have expected, but he wouldn’t allow himself to consider it either. No matter what this felt like, it was casual pleasure, payment for a favor she’d done him. His rash thoughts about settling on one lone lover were nothing more than thoughts.

  He flushed them from his mind with a visual sweep of Liz’s mouth-watering ass and splayed thighs. “I promise, babe, you can suck my cock all you want…after you get your orgasm.”

  “And when the hell will that—”

  Gripping her hips, he pushed his tongue into her folds from behind, stilling her words on a gasp while he feasted on her delectable juices. He licked the length of her weeping slit, gliding upward until he reached her crack and then shoved inside to give her ass bud a tonguing.

  “Oh. My. Fucking. Gawd.” Liz thrashed beneath him. Panting, she reared back and sent his tongue deeper still. “Dusty!”

  The name soared through him, tossed around inside his head and ceased his movements. She never called him Dusty. The word was stronger than any endearment she could have spoken. It smacked of intimacy, made this seem like it wasn’t casual pleasure after all but the makings of something serious. He should hate that. Only, he didn’t hate it. He liked it and the warmth it spread through him a whole hell of a lot.

  She wiggled her butt cheeks. “Why the fuck are you stopping?”

  “You called me Dusty.”

  “It won’t happen again. Now get moving!”

  She sounded desperate, too far gone to notice the change in his mood. Damned good thing, too. Now wasn’t the time to explore that change, when his dick was calling the bulk of the shots.

  “I liked it,” he allowed, and then gave her the one thing they’d both been wanting since he left her in the stockroom this afternoon.

  Pulling the condom from where he’d tucked it beneath the couch cushion in preparation for her arrival, Dusty quickly rolled it on and then pushed into her glistening sex from behind. Joint cries of ecstasy filled the air. He’d thought the feel of skin on skin had been intense. It had to be his off-kilter mood factoring in, but even with a condom separating them, Liz’s hot pussy clenching around his cock felt better than anything he could remember.

  Filling one hand with the softness of a tit and using the other to brace his weight, he came over, reclined his chest against her narrow, sweaty back, and thrashed into her.

  Thrashing truly was the only word to describe the mad way he pumped. Animalistic, the wild need to bury himself farther than he’d ever been in a woman. There was no controlling the balls-to-the-wall speed, the fact that their grinding tempo wasn’t even close to being in unison, or the painfully snug way his nuts hugged his body.

  Climax built in seconds. Tautness corded his muscles, strung out the arm he used to brace himself with. Perspiration beaded on his forehead. A roar built in the back of his throat. And then died without a sound as reality punched him in the gut and jerked his hips to a halt.

  Christ, he’d lost his goddamned mind.

  At the cost of her pride, Liz had come to him for an orgasm no other man had been able to provide. She was counting on him to prove her G-spot was alive and healthy. And what was he doing but kneeling on the edge of coming without her.

  The thought was no sooner out than her still-thrusting hips quickened their pace. Her sex fluttered, the muscles milking his cock with damp, delicious squeezes. Pants sounded. Loud, rasping pants. The kind of pants that were a prelude to climax. Maybe he wasn’t kneeling on that edge alone after all.

  “Dusty…”

  With that one word, he knew what she wanted, for him to come back to her, to regain his tempo. To savor a mutual moment of ecstasy. That she’d chosen his name to get her point across ensured he would savor the moment to the fullest.

  “Now, now, now!”

  He resumed his pace. Seconds passed before her cunt unleashed turbulent vibrations. Her pussy clenched around his cock. Once. Twice. And then spewed forth a river of hot liquid desire.

  He buried his face in the crook of her neck as his own cum shot forth, shaking his entire body with the magnitude of his release. Sexy little mewls squeaked from her lips as she continued to cream around his dick. And when it seemed her quaking would stop, Dusty slid his hand from her breast to her pussy and fingered her sensitized clit until another orgasm was shuddering through her, leaking a fresh course of juice onto his fingers and around his shaft.

  He could have happily fingered her to climax all night, shown her she was born to be a passionate woman and that it was something to celebrate, not run from. But she trembled beneath him, and this time he could tell it was about weakness. Unlike the night she’d faked orgasm, Liz was all but breathless, too drained to hold her weight up. He was nearly as winded himself, and if one of them didn’t do something about their position, both would end up doing a face-plant.

  Holding her to him, he rolled them over. His shaft pulled free with the move, and for an instant he regretted the loss. Then he remembered it was early, barely even ten. They had all night, all weekend if Liz agreed to stay.

  If Liz agreed to stay.

  She’d let her tough-girl edge go the moment he laid his hand on her ass; she became a woman who could be as insecure as she was blatant. The tensing of her body now said her armor was back in place. Dusty didn’t know what tonight meant in the long run, but he knew he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. He tightened his grip on her middle and lay still, inhaling her natural clean scent mingled with the musky tang of sex.

  Less than a minute passed before Liz started fidgeting. When he didn’t let go immediately, she pried his arm from her waist and rolled to her feet. She looked down at him, her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Way to go, Don Juan. You did it. Now you can get back to your harem.”

  No. Now all he could do was watch the jiggle of her breasts and then the sway of her ass as she moved to her discarded clothes and started tugging them on.

  She pushed her arms into the sleeves of her T-shirt and yanked the crew neck over her head. “Speaking of women who want you, I have a friend who’s interested in hooking up. Blond and bubbly, with huge tits.”

  Fresh from the loving and she was already sure he wanted another woman.

  Disgust assailed Dusty, all of which was aimed at himself. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want another woman. He wanted to live out his plans for tonight, spend it making love with Liz, cuddling with her early into the dawn. Only, in the planning stage, he hadn’t called it lovemaking, and there had been no cuddling involved. Hell, he’d never even considered the concept before. Judging by Liz’s easy dismissal of him, he shouldn’t have considered it now. She didn’t want anything from him but sex, and he’d be smart to feel the same.

  He pushed up on his elbows and leaned back against the couch, then tossed out, “You know I can’t say no to blondes with big tits. Have her stop by whenever.” Bu
t, shit, he wasn’t a smart man. He couldn’t leave it at that. “I planned to spend the night together. Have some dinner, maybe a few drinks. Show you how orgasmic you are.”

  Liz snapped her jeans shut and reached for her shoes. She pushed her feet into the sneakers, not bothering to tie them before she grabbed her jacket from the La-Z-Boy and shrugged into it. When she finally looked at him, her expression held a finality rivaled only by the aloofness of her voice. “Yeah, well, plans change.”

  Yeah, and so did people. But apparently Dusty wasn’t among them. He was still the failure he’d always been for letting her walk out the door without another word.

  9

  Liz forced herself to answer the knock at the door, though moving off the couch and away from the oniony haven of an extra-large bag of Funyuns was the last thing she wanted to do. Her stomach clenched as she reached for the doorknob, half-afraid Dusty would be standing on the other side of the door, half-afraid he wouldn’t be.

  Two days had passed since he’d given her not one but two orgasms. Two days where she’d done little more than remember.

  The previous two times they’d gotten physical, it had been her clit that hungered for his touch. Two nights ago it had been all of her. Every last inch of her aroused beyond measure, quaking to feel his hand swatting against her sweaty flesh, his tongue lapping at every bend and curve of her body, his cock spearing into her again and again. And her heart. Her goddamned heart had been involved, had had her longing to feel his big, hard body spooning up against hers, holding her in a way that said she truly mattered after he’d finally delivered a release over two decades in the coming.

  What a complete moron. How many times had she told herself he didn’t care, that he just talked a good game to get her where he wanted her? Then, just as soon as he had her there and his big-ass ego placated, he’d happily moved on to another. Okay, so he hadn’t moved on to Kristi immediately. He’d wanted Liz to spend the night, or weekend, or whatever. That didn’t change the eventual outcome or the way he’d jumped at the idea of getting a hot blonde with big tits wrapped around him.

  Growling her frustration, Liz yanked open the door. Dusty had the stupidity to show up now, and he would be lucky to leave with his balls intact. She still didn’t have a Leatherman, but there were plenty of sharp knives only a kitchen away.

  It wasn’t Dusty who stood on the front porch, though, but a strawberry blonde. A strawberry blonde with serious personal-space issues, Liz thought as the woman tugged her into her arms with a chipper, “Surprise!”

  Liz tensed. As a kid, she’d gotten hugs from her dad and Colin, but no way had she ever gotten one from a stranger. This stranger happened to be a good six inches shorter than Liz, and her chin pressed against Liz’s breasts. “Um, do I know you?”

  The woman released her and stepped back. A grin spread across a pretty face a shade on the plump side, centered with an upturned, freckled nose. “I’m with the prize patrol from the Instant Millionaire Contest. You’re the big winner.”

  “I am?”

  “Yep. Your millions will be paid out as Swedish Fish. A supersized box a day for the rest of your life. Ready to sign on the dotted line?”

  Swedish fish? Liz frowned, searching the street for a prize-patrol van, or more likely, a stolen bus from the mental ward.

  The blonde laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Liz. How many people do you know who could come up with a joke that pathetic? It’s me. Kristi.”

  Kristi? Kristi! “Ohmigawd. What are you doing here? I mean, I’m glad to see you, but what are you doing here?”

  “Dusty.”

  What? A sick feeling settled in Liz’s stomach. She rubbed her hand over her belly. Too damned many Funyuns. “What about him?”

  “I came to do him.”

  “Oh.” Her stomach did a slow roll. Her heart hurt. So much for the Funyun haven. They’d obviously gone straight to work on clogging her arteries. “He’s all yours.”

  “Yum.” Kristi’s smile grew, lighting gold-brown eyes. She looked past Liz. “Please tell me that’s him.”

  Liz turned to find Colin standing feet away, his gaze narrowed in a way that said he’d heard the entire conversation. Great. “That’s Colin and, as you know, he’s taken.”

  “Bummer. So, when do I meet Dusty? I know he’s going to be the one. Just thinking about him on the plane was enough to have me wet.”

  “You flew here to sleep with Dusty?” Colin’s words rang with disbelief.

  Liz glared at her brother while her stomach and heart continued their painful tirades. “Don’t you have a meeting or a huff-and-puff session with Joyce to get to or something?”

  He glared back. “Or something.”

  Lovely. He was going to make a big deal out of this. It wasn’t a big deal. She couldn’t give a rat’s ass if Kristi wanted to get naked with Dusty, even after she’d told the woman on numerous occasions what a dickhead he was. She waved from her brother to her friend. “Kristi, Colin. Colin, Kristi. She’s a friend from Seattle.”

  “When were you in Seattle?” Colin asked.

  “We met on-line,” Kristi supplied.

  He looked stunned. “Since when do you get on-line?”

  “Since I have to spend my nights listening to you getting your rocks off and Joyce telling you what a god you are in bed.” Liz turned back to Kristi. “Dusty isn’t working today. I can drive you over to his house and introduce you.” Her stomach clenched, and she brought her hand back over it, pressing hard.

  “Not necessary. Just give me directions and I’ll call you post-O.”

  The turbulence of her belly worked its way upward, making her throat ache. She should take the time to remind Kristi what a terrible idea sex with Dusty was, but she felt too damned bad. The sooner she got the woman out of the house, the sooner she could ease her pain by stuffing her head in the Funyun bag and forgetting to breathe.

  Liz invited Kristi inside. After shooting Colin a dark look, she went into the kitchen for a pad of paper. She scribbled the directions on the first sheet, tore it off, and went back into the living room. Her fingers curled around the sheet as she handed it to Kristi. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you over there?”

  “Absolutely. We’ll get along explosively, if you catch my drift.” She smiled hugely and gave herself a whole-body hug. “Hey, do you mind if I borrow your lipstick and maybe a dress if you have anything that will fit me? I’d unpack my own stuff, but I just can’t wait any longer to get my hands on Mr. Happy! Oh, and his daddy, too,” she added with a twittery giggle that Liz would never have imagined coming out of Kristi’s mouth. Bad sense of humor aside, she’d sounded so normal on-line, intelligent even.

  Fifteen minutes later, Liz felt ready to explode from chest and stomach pain as she waved good-bye to Kristi, who was climbing into a cab. The taxi moved down the street, and she closed the door. She started for the couch, the smothering-by-Funyun-bag-idea fast gaining merit.

  “You’re honestly going to let her have him?” Colin asked.

  Frowning, she collapsed onto the couch. “Let who have who?”

  “You know damned well what I’m talking about. The idea of a relationship scares you so bad you’re going to throw someone else at the man you love.”

  A gasp barreled up Liz’s throat. Love? He thought she loved Dusty? Hah! What a riot! She didn’t love Dusty. She, in fact, hated him so much that she would be elated to hear that Kristi’s cab driver ran him over by accident.

  She rolled her eyes. “Pull-leaze. You are sooo far off, Col.”

  “Am I? Then why did you look ready to stick your fist in your friend’s face when she said she couldn’t wait to get her hands on Mr. Happy and his daddy, too?”

  A few months ago, Dusty would have been thrilled by the bubbly blonde bouncing in his doorway. Now it took all his effort to keep a smile on his face, knowing he was expected to sleep with her. Upon hearing he was interested in doing her, Kristi had flown in from Seattle for the sole purpose of climb
ing between his sheets. For both of their sakes, he felt obligated to deliver. Fucking another woman had to help in getting over Liz and over the idea that letting her walk away believing she was just another casual screw in a long line of them was his biggest failure yet.

  “I’m so excited to meet you,” Kristi chirped. “Liz has told me all about you. And I do mean all.” Waggling her eyebrows, she glanced at his crotch.

  He’d had his dick stared at hundreds of times. This was the first time he felt the urge to seek cover. Resisting the urge, he gestured for Kristi to come inside. He owed her a fuck, and he would provide it. “Forget about Liz. Tell me about you.”

  She pinched her first two fingers together and dragged them across her lips. “My lips are sealed. No mention of Liz at all.” She ran her hands along the outer swell of generous breasts to ample hips. “Do you like my dress? I realized after I landed that I didn’t pack anything worthy of a man with your reputation, so I borrowed something.”

  Dusty recognized the electric-blue dress as the one Liz had been wearing the night she’d tried to go home with the metrosexual only to end up with her thighs spread and Dusty’s head buried between them. On Liz, the dress had been seductive in a hiding-the-goods sort of way. On Kristi, it hugged every inch of her generous curves, leaving nothing to the imagination. He’d never realized how much he appreciated hidden goods until this moment. “It looks good on you.”

  “Thanks, but you can tell it was made for Liz.” Her smile turned from friendly to naughty. She closed the distance between them, rising on tiptoe to twine her arms around his neck. Even then, she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes. Now was a hell of a time to discover he preferred his women tall. “Where were we?”

  “You were about to kiss me.” Damn, he needed to try a little harder. He sounded like kissing her was like having a tooth pulled.