He shifted over to relax beside her and slid his hand down her stomach. His fingers caressed lower and she moaned, anticipating the coming pleasure. His thick, strong digits went to work. Doing the things only he could do to her was worth a little lost sleep. He found her clit and circled the sensitive flesh with a delicate pressure of his fingertips. He took the nub between his thumb and forefinger and pulled a teasing rhythm. It was a rhythm he was looking forward to re-creating with a slightly different part of his anatomy.
She moaned again. He moved lower still, and caressed her lips, one after the other. She silently told him she wanted him to touch her elsewhere. She shifted on the bed, trying to get him to the right spot. Chuckling behind her ear, he ‘tsked’ at her impertinence. She growled. He knew what she wanted, and still denied her temporarily.
If this was a quickie, they had a difference of opinion on its meaning.
He returned to her clit. She panted and whimpered as he built the tension. Slipping back to her slit, he plunged a finger inside, curving it to stroke and tap against her G-spot. She bucked. Her eyes rolled back in sheer ecstasy.
He eased another finger inside and she groaned, tilting her pelvis to what may have been a new, better angle for her. She cried out. He stroked sloppily in her wetness, hoping he was giving her everything she could hope for or ever want. She met every thrust with a lift of her own.
“Andrew…” she purred. Her legs were shaking uncontrollably.
“Yes?”
“Your. Cock. Now.” She ground out through clenched teeth.
“Get on top,” he whispered.
She opened her eyes, turning onto her side to grin at him. He learned quickly; this was her favorite position. She peeked under the sheets, staring at his erect cock with eagerness.
She hurriedly positioned herself on top of him, as though she expected him to change his mind. She straddled his legs, and dipped down to kiss his mouth, his eyes, his throat, his chest, his belly. She mouthed the words “thank you” and he almost burst out laughing. She took his cock in her hand and stroked him, and he swelled even further. She pumped him until he was close to climax, probably building him up as much as he had done to her a few minutes before. No matter what, they were going to come together; he promised himself.
She lifted one leg until his cock was poised right under her pussy, and penetrated herself with him slowly. She sat down, achingly slow. It must have been payback. He could tease her, so she definitely could tease him back. He chalked it up to fair play and let her have her moment.
Pressing his hand firmly onto her ass, he pulled her in tight and moved deeper inside her. His cock throbbed against her tight channel. Abby shivered. Her body shook as wave after wave of pleasure spiraled out from where their bodies were joined, tightening around his cock each time she came.
He rocked her back and forth, and felt his cockhead hit yet another depth in her core. Her clit rubbed against his girth. She was coming again. Andrew roared as she rode him harder and faster. It was an incoherent noise—even for him—borne of pure thwarted desire.
“Please come for me, Andrew,” she begged. No sweeter words had ever been spoken.
She curled her body over his willing, raging cock, lifting her hips up and down, forward and backward. She ground her hips down against his groin. He glanced up at her between their bodies. There was nothing but moist pussy against the base of his cock. They were complete.
Her inner walls clutched his cock even more tightly. He started to explode. The surge of electric, tantalizing sensation—the final breaking point—grasped his body, and he shook, anticipating his release. Her pussy contracted again around his cock and kept him buried deep, as his own body took over. His hands dug into her hips and held on tight, lifting his thighs and ramming his cock as deep as possible inside.
She was screaming now, yelling her pleasure to the rising sun. He moved up one hand to her long blonde hair. He admired her for a moment. Her back was arched, head and neck thrust backward. Her breathing was heavy, hoarse. Her voice raw and throaty and addictive.
When he erupted, his entire body bucked. He had to grab her waist to keep her from being knocked off her perch. He shuddered through his own, extended climax, with Abby rocking gently on him, cradling his waist and enjoying the afterglow.
She collapsed across his chest. He couldn’t be happier.
Andrew turned to her when he found his strength again.
“What was the second thing?”
“What?” she asked sleepily.
“You said there were two things you needed.”
“Oh,” she answered, rolling to her side to face him. “I need a seriously long run this morning. My body is aching for a good sweat, after those few days with my busted ankle.”
“There’s a gym downstairs, with several treadmills. You can work out before I get you home. How’s that?”
“I have a better idea.”
“Really? And what would you like to do?”
“Do you want to put on some running gear, swing by my place, and hit the boardwalk with me? In my neck of the woods?”
“Sure. Sounds like fun.”
“And I promise, I won’t show you up too badly,” she teased. “I know you musclebound men can’t limber up enough to stretch those legs out like this lean gazelle you see resting beside you.”
“Hold on there.” He laughed. “You should know that this musclebound man limbers up every day on his home gym treadmill, between pumping the iron, and on the odd elliptical from time to time.”
“That I’d like to see,” she joked, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“What, are you a betting woman?”
“Me? I never bet for real money.”
“Then what would you like to wager on?”
“I can think of a few things.” Abby was such a tease. He was getting hard just thinking about what she would bet on. “How about dinner? I’ll make you dinner from scratch tonight if you run farther and faster than yours truly.”
“That sounds fair. And what if you win?”
“I’ll do whatever you want to do to me.”
“That sounds like a win for me, either way.”
“We both win, to be precise.”
“Okay. I accept. So… anything?”
“Anything.”
“I should warn you. You’re taking a big risk.”
“Try me.”
“Okay. Fair enough. If you beat me, after your seminar tomorrow, you are going to fly back to Lake Tahoe with me, and stay with me there until Sunday.”
She looked at him and smiled.
“I told you, you’re taking a big risk, Abby.”
“I accept.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I was willing to stay there until Sunday when we were trying to figure out the best plan for everyone to get back here. Why wouldn’t I go back now?”
“Awesome.” He leaned in and kissed her soft lips. “For the record, I may cheat and let you win this time.”
“No fair, big guy.”
“How does that saying go? All’s fair in war and wagers?”
“Funny. By the way, what were you going to ask me at dinner last night?”
“Oh yes. I almost forgot. Two things actually, one of which you’re already agreeing to do as part of our bet. The other was whether you were interested in going out on the yacht tonight. We won’t go into the open water, just a leisurely cruise around the Bay for a few hours.
“That sounds magical. I’d love to.”
“Great. I’ll set it up.”
“Let’s get ready. I gotta be at my seminar at ten this morning. ”
Chapter 8
ABBY practically crawled in through her apartment front door, wariness in her stiff legs after their run. She collapsed on the sofa before Andrew could get in the doorway. He stood hulking over her, the top of his chest glistening with sweat under the open front of his light windbreaker. It was well-earned sweat, for both of them. She had r
un with him through her regular route, and doubled back a few times to make it challenging for them both.
Needless to say, he had let her win. She would have pushed extra hard to win as well—she loved the idea of going back to Lake Tahoe, this time of her own volition, and with just her and Andrew. He stood over her now. He looked like he could go another five miles. His hands sat at his waistband, just daring her to say the words.
“So, what is it? Come back to my place, or do we stay here for a bit?” His crooked smile made him appear even more boyish. In a totally sexy way.
“Stay.”
“Excellent.”
They had made a stop at the farthest point of the boardwalk. It was her favorite place to stop. When they did, she had laced her arms around his neck and whispered how much she wanted him. Right there and then. She was kidding—well, she was kidding a little. Luckily, Andrew was more reserved than she was.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him to her bedroom. Still a little sore in the legs, she sat on the side of the bed, letting her fingers work fast on the inconvenient drawstring of his running pants. Then, the zipper of his windbreaker. She heard the angels sing Gloria as that zipper slipped all the way down, and his sexy, slightly tanned chest revealed itself more fully above the tank top he wore underneath. The undoing of the zipper—Abby was beginning to believe it was the most erotic manufactured sound ever created.
She gasped. Literally. And imagined where that slim line of skin was heading. Active imagination, be damned. She had seen him time and time again, and he still had that effect on her. Her mind could never accurately recreate the sheer awesomeness that waited for her under his layers of clothes. She shifted onto her elbows to get a better look as the fabric of his track pants lowered and revealed his plain black silk boxers.
“No kidding,” she blurted out, laughing loud.
“What?”
“Black silk boxers? They are so…” She waved her hand in the air for effect, encompassing her and him and the whole of her pale blue bedroom. “So hot.”
He ducked his head down to peer at them. “You think?” He winked as he asked.
She laughed again.
“I’ve only seen you in those cute cotton ones at the cottage. I can’t remember what you wore last night, or when you were here the night before. Sorry.” She furrowed her brow. “Don’t tell me you have a different wardrobe when you travel?” She paused, catching his gaze.
“Well, don’t you?” he teased.
“Nope,” she said with a smile. “I guess I’ll have to get used to it, now that I have a hundred new outfits to choose from.”
He had a look like he was processing what she had said, and then shoved his sweat pants to the floor. He leaned over to untie his sneakers and pull them off, followed by his socks, and then the pants. Now, clad in nothing but those spectacular boxers, he placed his hands on his hips and widened his stance. Tilting his chin up, he squared his shoulders.
“What do you think of them now?”
She whistled low. Reverting back to her previous inner dialogue, she reached her arms out and asked him to apologize for being so much of a tease. This man was designed by God for reverence. Eye candy, brilliance and a kind heart? Any sane girl would want him.
“Take me, Andrew.”
She scooted to the edge of the bed, and spread her arms and legs wide. His grin stretched from ear to ear. His full set of straight white teeth—and that soul-shaking smile around his eyes—captured her in its sensual trap. She just sighed as he slunk onto the bed and proceeded to strip her with said teeth.
Sexiest move of the century, she decided. He got her down to her bra and panties in record time. Hands or no hands.
“You are going to have to help me here, Abby. Roll over, or lift your hips.” His warm breath caressed her stomach, and she could swear she saw stars.
“How about I just toss these off and we get down to business?” she joked. Her voice was tight, strung a little shrill. She could admit it, she was hot and bothered—bothered because no man should be able to get her this turned on, this quickly. It was unhealthy. And troublesome. And perfect.
“Please,” he answered. Oh, and he was a gentleman. Excellent!
She sat up. Reaching behind her back, she unclasped her sports bra and stripped the cotton straps down one shoulder, then the other. This time, Andrew whistled.
“You like?”
She shimmied her shoulder and thrust out her chest. She preened under the widening of his pupils and the way his fingers flexed on the sheets. Her breasts were small, but she was perky and so ready for him.
“Very much,” he answered. “Sorry, my hands and eyes can’t take it any longer.”
He placed his palms over her breasts and massaged them. Abby swooned. Whimpering, she collapsed back onto her elbows and let her head flop. She closed her eyes. She wanted to savor the feel of his large, warm hands on her flesh.
Soon, his mouth replaced his hands and he was on top of her, pinning her to the sheets. She didn’t complain. She loved being under his hot chest, tight abs and strong legs. She writhed underneath him, silently begging him for more with every nonverbal wish her body could conjure.
His hand stroked down her stomach and under the elastic waistband of her panties. His fingers moved over her mound, pressing on her clit, and finally slipping along her slit. She was so wet; so ready. Andrew made her soaking wet with need every time without fail. She spread her legs wider under his exploration, and lifted her hips as he eased his digits within her core. She ground her pelvis into his hand. She had needed this so much more than she was ready to admit to anyone, including herself. She couldn’t imagine before Andrew anymore. Her body must have been in stasis, waiting for him to make her sensuality come alive and fly up to the stratosphere.
He groaned, “God, Abby. You’re so wet; so willing. I can’t be without you anymore.” In seconds, after echoing her thoughts out loud, he had them both naked; their underwear tangled in a ball on the floor somewhere.
He braced his weight on extended arms locked beside her head, then slid forward and entered her. His thick, hard cock promised every sort of wicked deed as it went.
“Harder,” she begged.
She thought about being on top of him, but as he picked up the pace and rammed her into the bed—the springs protesting his strength—she didn’t dare argue for position. He took her to places, and touched her in places in her mind she had never been before. She let her head dip back as she rode the waves his touch created.
Her body shuddered as she came; first, as he got into the powerful rhythm that would cause them both to come apart into a million sharp-edged pieces of shattered ecstasy. And then again, as she felt his warmth coat her inner walls and claim her as his again. As he collapsed on top of her, she felt the L-word at the tip of her tongue. She loved him. She could barely wait for him to say it to her one day soon—and wished he would open up to her about his pain. Whatever it was, it ran deep.
Chapter 9
ABBY’s day flew by before she could blink twice. It felt that way. After Andrew left that morning, she showered and rushed to her seminar. The two hours seemed to be over so quickly—probably because she had spent most of it daydreaming about him.
It’s not that the professor was dull. She had always enjoyed these morning sessions. The problem was that not thirty minutes before her seminar started, she was wrapped up in Andrew’s warmth. She could only imagine what she looked like, sitting there in the seminar boardroom. Kiss-blush wouldn’t do her dreamy-eyed musings any justice; not at all.
The rest of the day was similar. After lunch with some classmates, she spent the afternoon outlining the next section of her independent project report. She had made the effort to focus, and thankfully, had found she got into the zone with no problem. Maybe the seminar was dreary after all.
At five in the afternoon, she headed home to get ready for another night with Andrew. She wasn’t sure what to wear on this boating excursion, give
n it was January, and cool at night. She settled on a navy and white striped strapless dress. It had a hemline that met her below the knee. She found a red cashmere throw to go over top. Just in case, she brought along a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a light jacket.
Again, Andrew was running late and sent the driver over. She wondered what he was up to—not that she was worried. She was more curious than anything about the type of work he did for Dr. Sansbury while he was in town.
The driver helped her out when they got to the ramp closest to Andrew’s boat. He was waiting for her on the wooden pier walkway, and walked down to meet her. He looked scrumptious in his khaki slacks, a white cotton blend shirt, and a navy sweater, with the sleeves wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He looked perfectly bourgeoisie; except he was Andrew, with that warmth in his eyes and smile.
“How was your day?” he greeted her, kissing her warmly on the cheek. God, he could make the electricity flow through her from his touch.
“Great. Yours?”
“Awesome,” he answered, taking her hand to lead her to the boat. “You look fantastic.”
“All thanks to your people.”
“Glad to hear. All set?”
“Very. And excited for this cruise, too.”
“Good. The food is ready.”
He pointed out a sleek cream yacht. He really should have called it a ship—it was massive. Once she got on, two men undid the moorings and came aboard.
“So you must have a crew for this…this…is this a yacht? It seems much bigger.”
“Yes it is. It’s not much larger than the usual. And yes, there’s a crew and small kitchen staff for dinner. Ready to eat?”
“Yes, I’m starved. Lead the way.”
The yacht-ship they were on was stunning, but nothing could have prepared her for the sights and sounds—and tastes—of their night cruise. Once they left the harbor, she could barely breathe. The vistas, lights and water-view of San Francisco’s landmarks took her breath away. The food was absolutely divine, but even then, as they passed beneath the San Francisco Bridge, she put her fork down and almost ran to the bow to look up at it.
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