High Risk

by Vivian Arend

  The low-grade fever burning through her simply wouldn’t fade. Dinner had been consumed, the dishes put away. The visit up to now had been relaxed and easy. Small talk and lots of laughter.

  No blatant innuendo or sexual caresses, but he was right there all the time. Becki couldn’t move around the table without bumping hips or knocking elbows. She wasn’t sure if it was all his fault, either, as she caught herself standing one pace too close to him so that as he turned, there was nowhere for him to go but past her. Brushing torsos, flirting glances.

  He grinned as he held out his hand. “Come on.”

  Becki slipped her fingers into his and allowed him to lead her. “Where are we going?”

  “Taking a tour.”

  She wandered through the house at his side, admiring the dark furniture, the solid wood side tables, and the stone accents around the fireplace. The heat of his thumb as he caressed it back and forth over hers made tiny shivers run up her forearm.

  “I love the bold colours in here,” Becki said, pulling him to a stop by the couch and running a hand over the soft leather. “It’s all so grown up.”

  Marcus laughed. “Well, thank you, I guess.”

  She stepped in front of him and wrapped her free arm around his waist. “Grown up is a good thing, Marcus. I had mostly thrift shop furniture and cinder-block bookcases at my old place. I’d never gotten to the point of settling in and making a home. Good for you.”

  “I like my comforts,” he drawled.

  They stared at each other for a moment, silence stretching and drawing out the anticipation. Then he broke the spell and drew her down the hall, past a guest bath and a small office. All the way to the master bedroom. No dark wood in here, only a bed big enough for all kinds of acrobatics plus a full line of floor-to-ceiling windows facing the mountain range. The deck outside the French doors supported a hot tub and sturdy wrought-iron furniture.

  Becki swallowed hard as Marcus stepped behind her and leaned over to kiss the exposed nape of her neck.

  “This room is also grown up, don’t you think?”

  “Very.” No frilly decorations like candles or silk pillows, but the room screamed comfort. Seduction. A world apart from the IKEA bed she’d been bunking on in the dorms. His tongue teased her skin, tasting her, making all sorts of lovely after-dinner entertainments come to mind.

  He trailed his fingers up her arm, his left forearm wrapped around her waist to pull her against him. There was no denying he desired her as the hard length of his cock made contact with her back. “Hot tub?”

  “Lovely.” Becki twisted in his arms. “I hope you don’t mind me skinny dipping. I forgot my swimsuit.”

  Marcus leaned over and brushed their lips together, only for a second before pulling back to speak against her mouth. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “Tell me you’re disappointed,” she whispered.

  “I am.” She must have made a face because he grinned. “Don’t look so surprised. I was looking forward to ordering you to go without, and now you’ve stolen my thunder.”

  Oh really? “Well, perhaps you’ll have to find something else to order me to do, then.”

  He released her and stepped back, his expression tightening as he looked her over. “Now there’s an idea. What kind of commands would you enjoy, Becki? Shall we play that game in the bedroom as well as on the wall?”

  What was he doing? “On the wall?”

  He stepped to the high dresser to his right and held out a familiar dark swatch of fabric. The blindfold from the other day’s climb.

  Suddenly all her fantasies of this evening were wiped clean. She had memories of all kinds of games with him, but they’d never used a blindfold during the wild romp so long ago. “Marcus . . .”

  He shrugged. “Your choice.”

  But he didn’t withdraw the blindfold.

  She stepped forward, ignoring his offering for a moment, pressing herself tight to his body as she caught hold of his face and kissed him hard. She was the aggressor this time, and he let her explore. Let her stroke her tongue over his teeth, allowed her to nibble on his lower lip, her fingers slipping into his hair as she took what she wanted. Snatching a few seconds of control before she softened her touch. Eased back, their lips separating with a quiet sigh.

  As she stepped away, observing the fire in his eyes, she slid her fingers along his forearm to his wrist, to his palm. She tugged the fabric free from his grasp.

  Covering her eyes meant all her other senses kicked into higher gear. She listened for any indication of what might come next. She waited, shifting her balance onto the balls of her feet as she wondered exactly what he had planned. Because she was ready for anything he wanted to dish out.

  It wasn’t that she heard him, but she felt him. Standing right beside her mere seconds before he stroked her arm again. Back of the knuckles? Fingertips? She wasn’t sure, only he teased from her wrist all the way to her shoulder, finishing with his lips.

  “Very nice. Your nipples have hardened. Can you feel them pressing against your dress?”

  She nodded, unable to speak past the knot of rising lust. If she could have said something, she would have told him she was also wet, an aching sensation growing between her thighs.

  “As much as I loved this afternoon, I want you a whole different way this time. I find myself wanting to anticipate. To prolong coming together until we’re both ready to burst.”

  “Try five minutes ago, then,” Becki managed to say, steadying herself more solidly on her feet in the hopes she wouldn’t melt into a puddle.

  Her zipper released. One tooth at a time, the rasping loud in her ears as the fabric peeled back to allow a brush of cooler air over her heated skin. His hand landed on her shoulder and pushed off one strap, letting it fall to the side and expose the upper swell of her right breast.

  This time she heard when he drew in a breath of air. Controlling himself, perhaps? Not that she cared if he lost control and threw her on the bed this moment. She was more than ready for him.

  But the going slow was very nice as well. If nice was anywhere near the correct word.

  “No bra.” Marcus slid his hand down her waist and over her ass. “No panties as well, or will I find a thong to explain why you have no lines?”

  “Thong.” A very wet one by now, if she guessed right.

  “Hmm.” The sound rumbled from some point below her, and she was the one to gasp when he touched the inside of her thigh, edging the bottom of her skirt up slightly as he reached underneath and caught hold of the fabric.

  Without the ability to see, she found that her skin was far more sensitive, the rub of the material as he tugged it down her limbs sending out small tingles, all of which seemed to rebound back and hit her in the core. She caught his head in her hands. She brushed her fingers through his hair, leaning one hand on his shoulder as he indicated for her to lift her foot.

  One breast was exposed, nothing else on under the flimsy layer of her sundress. Becki arched her back and waited, longing for him to touch her again.

  When he wrapped his lips around her nipple, she gasped in delight. The other shoulder strap fell away, and the dress slipped down, catching momentarily on her hips before Marcus brushed it to the floor.

  He kissed the other nipple, laving his tongue around the tip to moisten it before pulling off with a light popping sound.

  She swayed on her feet as he withdrew. Naked, unable to see what he was doing. But she figured she knew pretty well he wasn’t disappointed.

  “You’re grinning like a cat that’s got the cream,” Marcus pointed out.

  “Nice analogy. I’m enjoying this blindfold thing. What are you planning next?”

  What he planned apparently involved dropping to his knees again and covering her sex with his mouth. No further warning, just a single clasp around her butt to hold her in place, then a determined assault to drive her mad. He licked along her labia, using his fingers to open her curls. Tongue tip teasing the sen
sitive spot at the apex of her slit until her legs quivered.

  A finger slid into her core and she widened her stance, thrusting her hips against him to try for more. The little extra she needed to get the detonation building inside her to trigger. He added another finger, pumping lazily while his tongue and teeth worked her to the brink.

  “Touch your breasts,” Marcus commanded. “Grab those rings and tug them the way you like.”

  Becki didn’t hesitate, raising her hands and cupping herself, thumb and forefingers rolling the tiny loops she’d placed in before getting dressed. The small bite of pain shook her hard, and she gasped.

  “Oh yeah, that’s it. I knew the instant you tugged—your body squeezed so tight. I want to be in you again, Becki. Wrap your sweet cunt around my cock and let you squeeze me like that as you go off.”

  She was going to suggest he should stop talking and use his lips on her a little more, but the deep timbre of his voice stroked her as hard as his tongue.

  “Do it,” she begged. “I want you.”

  “Oh no, this time is for you.” Marcus slid his fingers in, rubbing over a spot deep inside that made her head spin. “You’re going to come for me. Standing, your legs ready to give out, but you won’t fall because I’ve got you.”

  He did. He had her tangled into a throbbing heap, and when he touched her with his mouth, it was too much. Fingers thrusting, pushing her as he moved again and again. His tongue hard on her clit, satisfied sounds rising as he greedily ate her pussy. She pinched her nipples as he’d told her to, and the wave slammed into her. Sharp. Hard. Her sex constricting, breath catching in her throat. It wasn’t enough—not nearly enough.

  “Marcus, oh God.”

  He slowed, fingers easing from her before slipping in one last time. Once more. Every brush set off another wave, and he held her upright with his left forearm and bicep, her hands clinging to his head and shoulders.

  A tender kiss landed on her belly. He stood, gently helping her find her balance. He kissed her and she tasted herself on his tongue. The taste of sex and desire, and longing for more tangled with satisfaction.

  Her curiosity rose. “Can I take off the blindfold?”

  “No.” He caught her hand in his and brought it to his chest. “Undress me.”

  “While I’m blindfolded?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Becki started on his buttons, moving until their hips were touching and he had to hold on to her. The texture of his shirt was slightly rough, a brushed cotton that dragged over her skin like sensual sandpaper—impossible to ignore, impossibly erotic.

  The first button popped through the hole, and she swore she heard it. Felt the teasing rub of the dusting of hair on his chest. When she pulled the shirt from him, she took every advantage of the chance to study him with her fingertips.

  “This is nice,” Becki mused.

  “Nice?” The tension in his voice made it clear her touch was getting to him as much as he had gotten to her.

  “I loved our shower sex, but there’s something to be said for a long, slow seduction.”

  She leaned over to press a kiss to his firm abdomen, soft curls tickling her nose, urging her to follow the treasure trail as it vanished into his slacks, and he sucked in a gasp.

  “Only who is seducing who?” he asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Not really. Not this time.”

  She was too preoccupied to think that through. Popping open his button, easing the zipper over his rigid cock—those things were on her mind now. She wasn’t willing to be distracted from the wonderful task at hand.

  Getting Marcus naked.

  She tugged the jeans off his hips, reaching impatiently to see what he was wearing. Her fingers met boxer briefs, wetness marking the spot where the rounded head of his cock pressed the fabric. “Hmm, someone else is ready to go off soon.”

  She moved blindly, but with her hands to guide her she leaned forward and found his shaft, dragging her teeth lightly along the length, wetting him even more.

  “Becki. Take them off.”

  Guttural. Harsh. She was swamped by the power in his command and hurried to obey, dragging the material down and helping him step out from where it bunched around his ankles. Then she was up and reaching for him, finding his hard shaft and fisting her fingers around him. She pumped slowly, firmly. Listening for a sound from his lips.

  A groan, a swear.

  A command.

  When it came, she shivered with delight.

  “Suck me. Get me wet, and cover me with your mouth.”

  She obeyed eagerly, reaching forward with her tongue to catch the first taste of him, the salty essence spreading through her system like ambrosia. His taste thrilled her, his long low moan of satisfaction making her smile as she opened her mouth and sank over him.

  Working his cock with her tongue and lips shouldn’t turn her on this much. There was nothing against her body, no smooth caress of her skin, and yet she felt as if a million butterflies glided over her, teasing and edging her closer to another orgasm, all without a touch.

  Marcus stroked her cheek and she slowed. Opened as wide as she could to accept the thick cock stretching her lips.

  “So beautiful. But there’s one thing missing.” Marcus tugged the blindfold from her and dropped it to the floor. He smoothed her hair from her face, his cock balanced on her lower lip. “I want to see your eyes.”

  Looking up his body—he’d said she was beautiful, and maybe that word didn’t apply to guys, but damn. The edges of his abs, the tight six-pack of his belly as he slipped his hips forward. Perfectly sculpted chest, muscular shoulders. He’d cupped his right hand behind her, fingers holding the long strands back to keep them from getting in their way. The bonus was that she saw him clearly.

  His jaw was set tight, but he had that smile, the one that almost wasn’t there but still managed to turn her insides to jelly. He gazed down, watching closely as slow motions of his hips pulled his cock nearly all the way from her before feeding it back in again oh so carefully.

  She caught hold of his ass, curling her fingers around his smooth skin. Stroking the muscles that flexed under her touch. Anchoring herself to allow him to go harder. Faster.

  The entire time she stared up, a slow simmer of lust driving her to give at least as much pleasure as he’d given her, if not more.

  Marcus rocked again and again, the taste of pre-come growing as he groaned.

  “Becki . . .”

  She pulled back, lips tight, sucking hard, and he shouted her name again, this time throwing back his head as the climax hit. Bursts of heat hit the back of her throat, semen filling her mouth. Satisfaction at having caused him to lose control filled her at the same time. He pressed forward again, and some liquid escaped her lips, slipping down the side of her face.

  Marcus shuddered, dragging his eyes open to smile down at her as she licked and sucked, enjoying every last moment.

  “Clean me up, sweet Becki.”

  She caught his softening length and pulled it as far into her mouth as possible, licking him clean, glancing to see his approval. He skimmed his thumb over her cheek and caught the spill, pressing it toward her lips. She licked the pad, biting the surface lightly, and heat flared in his face.

  He helped her to her feet, pulling her tightly to his body as they kissed, limbs wrapping close, rubbing again and again.

  “I can’t get enough of touching you,” Becki confessed.

  “I’m not complaining,” Marcus rejoined, reaching under her and lifting her into the air. She threw her arms around his neck and held on, her hip bumping his abdomen as he paced across the room. “Get the door.”

  She twisted the knob and pushed the glass door open. He carried her to the edge of the tub and carefully lowered her, her feet slipping into the heated water, skin tingling from his earlier attentions and the snap of the near-icy evening air on her naked body.

  He turned away to shut the door, and she sighed happily.


  Naked man, hot tub, incredible mountain views. She’d already given and received an orgasm.

  The night was young. She could hardly wait to see what else they could come up with.

  CHAPTER 18

  Marcus grabbed a couple of water bottles from a box beside the door, handing them to Becki before joining her in the water. She twisted one open and passed it back, relaxing on the bench facing the view.

  She hummed. “You scored big-time.”

  His laugh interrupted his drink. “I did. Thank you.”

  “You nut. I meant the deck. How did you manage to find a place like this? So lucky.”

  “Took a while.” Marcus put his bottle aside and turned to face her. She had knelt on the submerged seat, the water level bouncing along her nipple line distracting him. “David had been looking around for a place for me off and on. By the time I ended up coming home, he had something waiting.”

  “He’s a great guy.”

  Marcus shrugged. “He’s my brother. He’s great and an ass in turns.”

  Becki nodded. “My family’s like that. My sisters and I get along fine, long-distance stuff since most of them are settled on the prairies with their families. But my little brother? He’s too much like me. One minute we get along gangbusters, and the next we’re ready to kill each other.”

  “I can’t remember. Big family?” He tugged her closer and she came willingly, straddling his legs and settling herself in his lap.

  “Five kids. Colin is the youngest; I’m second from the top. One of the middles—you know, the type that always wants to do what’s right.”

  “Ha. In what dream world are you living?”

  “So speaks an oldest son, correct?”

  “Oldest and wisest. Of course.”

  She snorted. “Oh please.”

  Marcus enjoyed the banter, but most of his attention was on touching her. Stroking his hand up her waist, cupping one breast at a time so he could caress her nipples to tight points. There were times not having two hands made a difference, but only because he was greedy to have more.

  She finished taking a long drink, stretching her throat back and giving him a flash of déjà vu to her sucking him earlier, and his cock flared to full rigidity, snapping tight to his belly. Then she leaned against him to put her water bottle beside his, breasts compressed to his chest, hips rising as she rocked over his dick.