Body Image (Body Heat Series Book 2)

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Body Image (Body Heat Series Book 2) Page 5

by Madeline Parr


  “That’s what I had planned on, but family obligations interrupted.”

  “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “It’s okay. It was my mom. She found out she had cancer. Ovarian cancer. By the time they found it, it was already really bad. She didn’t have anyone else; it was just the two of us when I was growing up. I was an only child, and my dad hit the road when I was still in diapers. I applied for a hardship discharge so I could go home and take care of her, but it was denied.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s how I first met your dad. He tried to help me out. Worked with me on the paperwork and tried to help things along.”

  I didn’t realize Bayne knew my father before he was assigned to me, but things were starting to click into place. “Is that how you ended up assigned to my detail?”

  “Yeah. Once everything was finished with my mom, I needed a job. Your dad told me to call him once I was ready, so I did. A few short weeks later I was on your protective detail.”

  “Did you get home to see your mom? In time, I mean?”

  “I did. I took some time off that I had accrued to visit when I could. And I spent every last penny I earned making sure she had quality in-home care around the clock, but all I really wanted was to be there myself. She was a fighter. My term of service was up a few months later and I high-tailed it home.”

  “I bet that meant the world to her.” I place my hand over his on the table.

  “I like to think it did. We had some really good times together before she passed away.” He crosses his fork and knife and rests them on his plate. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be so morose.”

  “Don’t apologize. I lost my mom, too. I know what it’s like.”

  “It was a car accident, wasn’t it?”

  “A drunk driver clipped them when they were on their way to brunch. It was hard for me, but I don’t think my dad ever recovered. He can’t forgive himself for surviving.”

  “Can I offer you any dessert?” The server appears out of nowhere with a selection of pastries under a glass cloche. “Our cheesecake is spectacular. Made with organic milk from the cows on site.”

  “I don’t think we can say no to that,” Bayne says.

  I agree. “I’m game if you are. Let’s split a piece.”

  She returns a moment later with our confection and two forks. I dive in as soon as they hit the table.

  “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed an evening so much,” he says as he lays his fork on our empty plate.

  “I can.” I flash him my best bedroom eyes. He takes my hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss.

  “I think it’s time for me to take you home,” he says. “Before I’m tempted to break the rules I just got you to agree to.”

  It took every ounce of self-control to drop her off at her front door without following her inside. I’m too amped up to sleep when I finally get home. I grab a beer out of the fridge and collapse on the sofa. I’m searching for the remote when my phone rings. I smile when I see her number.

  “Are you missing me already?” I tease, trying to keep my tone light but hoping like hell the answer is yes.

  “What’s your definition of sex?” she asks.

  I almost spit my beer out.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I happened to be lying here,” she says, “thinking about us getting frisky and sweaty together the other night. I started thinking about how I wish you would have slept with me back when I was in college.”

  “There’s no way you could have handled me back then, sweetheart.” I tip back the green bottle and take another swig. “I was a lean, mean fighting and fucking machine back in the day. I would have ruined you.”

  “You’re ruining me now!” she laughs. “And I think I could have handled you back then, as long as my girlfriend could have joined us.”

  My beer dribbles down my chin. “Are you trying to make me come in my pants?” My cock, which had been twitching to life since I heard the first sweet strains of her voice, was now rock hard and standing at attention.

  “Maybe I am.” Her voice is sweet as honey. “Is that allowed?”

  “Tell me more about this girl you dated.” I settle back onto the sofa.

  “She wasn’t just any girl. She was my roommate.”

  “You’re shitting me,” I say.

  “You guys kept me on lockdown 24/7,” she says. “all that sexual energy had to go somewhere.”

  “I’m going to need details,” I say. Because if my imagination fills in the blanks, things are going to get filthy fast. “Was it different being with her?”

  “Yeah. She was the first and last woman I was ever with. The sex was hot, but I realized I wanted someone with muscles and body hair and. . . a dick.”

  “What was your favorite thing to do to each other?” I fumble with my belt buckle.

  “Hmm, let me think . . .” She’s having entirely too much fun with this.

  “Caroline, where are your hands right now?”

  She giggles at my question. “Where do you think they are?”

  “I think you’ve got a hand buried in that sweet little cunt, and I’m fucking jealous.”

  “You caught me. I’m lying on my big king bed, all by myself, with my legs spread wide open.” I rub at the front of my pants, massaging my cock through my trousers.

  “I bet you’re so wet right now.”

  “I am, baby. My fingers are just gliding through my wet little slit. I wish you were here to play with me.”

  “I’d bury my face in your sugary cunt and lick you dry.”

  “You take such good care of me,” she says. “I want you to take your cock out and stroke it for me. Lie back and work it nice and slow while I tell you a dirty story.”

  I tear open my pants, working my thick cock in my fist while I stretch out on the sofa. “Tell me a story about you and your girlfriend and the deliciously dirty things you used to do together,” I say. “Feel free to go into as much detail as you want.”

  Her throaty laugh. God, I wish she was here in my arms so we could get each other off.

  “Scissoring was my favorite. We would both get waxed, so rubbing our sweet little pussies together was perfection. She was so soft and slick, and sometimes we’d get lined up perfectly so our hard little clits would rub together.”

  Holy fuck. My breath catches in my throat.

  “But that wasn’t what I was thinking about now. I can’t stop thinking about what it would have been like if you’d joined the two of us back then. And all the fun things we could have done together.”

  “Tell me,” I say as I jack my cock in my fist. My precum is dribbling down my shaft, and I know I’m going to blow a big load in record time.

  “I’d start by showing her how to suck your cock so that both of our hot little mouths could work your giant dick at the same time.”

  All I could manage was a moan.

  “I’d lick up and down the length of you while she sucked on the tip. I’d lick those heavy balls that are probably up tight against you right now, while she tried to suck you deeper. Would you like that?”

  “Fuck. Yes. You know I would.”

  “What about you? Would you take care of both of us?”

  I sure as hell would. Or die trying. Because that much pleasure would probably kill me. “I’d work you both over nice and slow and make you come until you couldn’t take any more.”

  “Would you use your cock? Those capable hands? Or that talented mouth?”

  “I’d start with my mouth. I’d lay you together on the bed and spread you both open so I could take turns tasting you.”

  It’s her turn to groan into the phone. “Her pussy tasted so sweet. You’d love it.”

  “Yours is the sweetest I’ve ever had.” And it’s the only one I want.

  “Tell me how you would you fuck me once you had me all warmed up.”

  “I’d take my time with you. I’d work my fingers into you one at a time and massag
e that tight little pussy and stretch it out before I’d try to fit my beast of a cock in you.”

  She’s breathing in little gasps, and I can tell she’s close.

  “I’d wait until you were begging for my cock, and then I’d ease it inside you, just the thick head, and hold it there to give you a chance to adjust. And I bet your sweet little girlfriend would be there helping, sucking your swollen pink clit while I slowly worked my cock inside of you.”

  I feel the warmth spread across my balls and up my dick, and I know I’m close.

  “I’d squeeze you so tight with my pussy muscles,” she says. “You wouldn’t last long. But I wouldn’t care, because all I want is to drain every drop of that sweet cream from your balls. I bet you’d shoot so much with that big heavy sac. You’d fill me up, and there would be too much and it would spill back out, over your balls and down my thighs.”

  “What would your girl think of that? Seeing you covered in my cum?” I try to hold my orgasm back, but there’s no controlling it.

  “She’d fucking love it. And your cum is so sweet I’d want to share, so I’d pull her close and rub my pussy against hers, coating our swollen pink pussies with your sweet cream -”

  She lets out a sweet little whimper and stops talking. I understand the feeling. My cock throbs in my fist as thick ropes of cum shoot across my torso.

  She recovers first. “Look at that. We’re miles away and we still got off together. Can you imagine the fun we’ll have when our 30 days are up?”

  I can. Jesus help me.

  We arrive at the Bayshore Amusement Park right after dusk; Bayne assures me we’ll have more fun once the families visiting during the daytime clear out. He’s right on the money; we pass a sea of grumbling parents making their way to the parking lot with ornery kids in tow. The college kids are the ones walking with us into the park.

  “Follow the college kids if you want to find a good time on a budget,” I say.

  “I can’t believe you’ve never been here before,” he says. “Well, I mean I can believe it, but it just doesn’t seem fair. This place is a local legend. They have all the classic rides: the chairlift, the drop tower, a huge Ferris wheel, the tilt-a-whirl. And a healthy assortment of roller coasters. I used to come here all the time with my friends in high school.”

  “I bet you did. I can just imagine all the girls you must have taken through the tunnel of love.”

  He grasps my hand as we weave through the crowd toward the admissions booth. “Yeah, but I never got past second base with any of them.”

  “Play your cards right tonight and you just might, tiger.” I hold out my wrist and the attendant slaps on a blue paper wristband that guarantees me unlimited rides.

  “I know how to show a girl a good time, right?” He winks and leads me through the maze of rides. I smell popcorn and funnel cakes and the air is alive with laughter and screams. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which is which. The night grows darker and the neon carnival lighting lends a magical feel.

  “What do you want to tackle first?”

  “Well,” I say, “now seems like a bad time to tell you I’m terrified of heights, but you’ll have to knock me unconscious to get me onto that Double Shot. I hate the feeling of free fall.” I cringe as I stare up at the huge tower with the screaming riders being shot up in a gondola. “Can we start with something tame? Bumper cars? Or the Tilt-a-Whirl?”

  “You’ve got it, princess.”

  “I’ll need a little liquid courage before I venture on to anything more adventurous.” I motion to the concessions stand with beer on tap. He laughs and fishes his wallet out.

  We sip our suds as we make our way to the rides. We stop a few times along the way. Once at the strongman game, so he can impress me by ringing the bell when he strikes the puck with a heavy mallet, and again at the miniature rifle range, where I win a purple zebra and impress him with my skills.

  “You didn’t really think my father is the type of man who would let his little girl loose in the world without teaching her weapons proficiency, right?”

  “I just didn’t expect you to do so well.” He drains his beer and throws the empty plastic cup into the nearest recycling bin. “I doubt I could do any better, and I served for years.”

  “Yeah? How would you feel about a little friendly Skee Ball competition?” I motion toward the tent with my head. He laughs and falls into step easily beside me.

  “They have Whack-A-Mole, too!” I haven’t seen games like this since I was a little girl at the summer carnival, and I’d forgotten how fun they are.

  “Don’t you feel like you play that all day already, with the job you have?”

  “Yeah, I put out a lot of fires. But I never get to bang anything with a hammer. That’s the fun part.” Another ride game catches me eye: the weight guessing booth. I point to it. “We’re going to be skipping that one, that’s for damn sure.”

  We giggle like a couple of school kids as he kicks my ass in Skee Ball and I wipe the floor with him at Whack-A-Mole.

  “You better watch out, Bayne,” I tease. “If anyone saw you they’d actually think you were having fun.”

  He wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead. “I am having fun. But, in the spirit of your naughty little phone call the other night, I think we should go on a ride where we can have a different type of fun.”

  I feign shock. “Are you asking me to go on the tunnel of love with you?”

  “Damn right I am. And just wait until I get you alone in the dark. Your father definitely wouldn’t approve of what I have planned.”

  I warm tingling spreads through my core as I follow him through the crowd and we join the end of the line. I watch couples step into their buggies for the short ride through the dark track and I’m a little concerned.

  “That ride looks two minutes long, tops. I’m a little disappointed. I thought you knew how to show a girl a good time.” I look up at him through long lashes. He touches my chin and leans in for a quick kiss.

  “I think we both know I can ruin you in a couple of minutes.” I chuckle against him because it’s true. “But remember, you’re with a military man and we always have a contingency plan.”

  I wonder what his plan is until it’s our turn to step into the squeaky old vehicle and see him slip a folded hundred dollar bill into the attendant’s hand. I’m instantly impressed.

  We squeak toward the dark tunnel like a shopping cart with a twisted wheel. Normally this would bother me, but right now all I can focus on is Bayne’s warm hand squeezing my thigh and inching higher by the second. When we pass into the darkness of the ride I open my legs obligingly. He cups my sex through my shorts, grinding against me with the heel of his hand.

  I open my mouth to moan but his mouth devours mine before any sound can escape. His eager tongue strokes against mine and explores every inch of my mouth while the hand between my legs snakes it’s way underneath the waistband of my shorts.

  I’m already swollen and wet. When the soft pads of his fingers rub my pussy and pluck at my engorged clit, I know I won’t last much longer, but I’m not sure I can get off before our car emerges back into the light. And that’s when the ride shudders to a stop.

  I break off our kiss and smile at him. “You’re a fucking genius.”

  “I thought you’d appreciate my foresight.” His mouth is back on mine and I’m so close. His big strong hand plays between my legs, driving me closer and closer to the edge. His other hand pops open the top few buttons on my shirt and slides inside the lacy cup of my bra. The extra sensation of him tugging at my rock-hard nipple pushes me over the edge.

  I clench my thighs around his arm and come on his hand. It turns out he is a superb planner; I have time to straighten my clothes and collect myself before the ride stirs to life again. He takes my hand as we disembark and wraps his arm around my waist as we wander through the walkways.

  “So, what do you want to do next?”

  I turn to him and smile. “How would you
feel about getting a hand job on the Ferris wheel?”

  “I know you said you’re scared of the water, but I think you’ll really like this. I swear.”

  “I’m actually kind of excited.” That’s a damn lie. It’s all I can do to stop my knees from knocking as I stand on the dock. “I’ve never seen the Fourth of July fireworks from the water before.”

  He readies the boat for boarding. “Just remember, I’ve been professionally trained at combat swimming and rescue by the United States government. So you have nothing to worry about.”

  “I feel better already,” I say. He turns to me and reaches out his hand. I try to swallow and it’s like my mouth is filled with cotton.

  He senses my hesitation. “Caroline, we can just stay here and watch the fireworks from the shore. It’s not a big deal.”

  I don’t want to go on the boat, but I don’t want to disappoint him, either. He’s been so excited to show me his boat; it’s all he’s talked about all week. I take his hand and step on board.

  “I want to go. I trust you.” He puts a hand on the small of my back and steers me to my seat at the front of the boat. I sink into the padded leather bench seat that’s as soft as butter. I groan in spite of myself.

  “It’s pretty nice, isn’t it?” I can tell he’s proud of the restored wooden boat. And he should be - it’s a beauty. Mahogany decking, cream colored leather seating, and a small American flag flapping in the breeze at the stern. It looks like something James Bond would use to zip around the shores of Monaco after he stepped out of a Monte Carlo casino in a tux. I feel underdressed in my simple summer sheath.

  “The guy who restored it was an amazing craftsman. It took him almost a year, but it was worth every penny. I feel like George Clooney when I motor around the bay in this bad boy.”

  “George Clooney’s got nothing on you, babe,” I say as I lean in and kiss his cheek. He takes the wheel and we pull away from the dock, slowly heading for the middle of the bay. Lots of other boats are on the water and we stake our place out among them and drop the anchor.

  It’s already twilight; it won’t be long until the sun slips all the way below the horizon and darkness sets in. He pulls a bottle of sparkling wine out of the on-board fridge, along with a selection of fruit, cheese, and a charcuterie platter.

 

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