More than Lovers

by Jess Dee

  Dedication

  As ever, with special thanks to Fedora, Kelly and Dawn, for always finding the time to read my books—when they’re not quite ready to be read.

  And, of course, to Jennifer. Even a holiday in Hawaii can’t stop you from improving my work.

  Chapter One

  Sarah Deacon released the breath she’d held in a long whoosh. Relief zipped through her veins. Charlie Hudson was home. He stood in his doorway, eyeing her speculatively.

  Just as quickly as she’d released it, her breath hitched again. He might be home, but that didn’t mean there was no one else here.

  “Sar,” he greeted.

  “Charlie.” She bit her lip. “Are you, um, alone?”

  He nodded. A slow nod, accompanied by a sensual smile. “As it happens, I am. Would you like to come in?”

  Her belly tightened in anticipation. “I’d love to.” He had no idea how much.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d asked the question. It was a key one between the two of them, and after eighteen months of asking, it needed no embellishment.

  Charlie stepped back, allowing Sarah into his unit. The layout was identical to hers downstairs, but the furnishings were so different, no one would ever mistake his place for hers.

  Charlie’s chocolate brown leather couches faced a huge flat-screen TV embedded in the wall. The wooden floor remained unadorned, with nothing but a glass coffee table set in the center. Stark, modern and nothing like Sarah’s lounge room, with her plush carpets, upholstered sofas and treasured collection of antiques.

  Décor was the last thing on her mind now, although those leather couches would come in handy when her legs collapsed beneath her, as they usually did when Charlie worked his magic.

  Already she fingered the hemline of her T-shirt, and the instant she heard the click of the door closing, she drew that hemline up over her breasts and tugged the tee off, turning to face Charlie in her bra.

  The purple bra she’d chosen specially to wear tonight, because without a doubt, it was her sexiest.

  His blue gaze darkened as it settled on her chest.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong…” Charlie’s tongue touched his upper lip, leaving the spot glistening. “But didn’t you have a hot date this evening?”

  “I did. And then I didn’t.”

  “Ah, right.” He looked totally confused. “And that means what exactly?” Charlie stepped closer and brushed his hand over her arm, leaving a streak of goose bumps in his wake.

  “He fell in love with another woman.” Sarah tried not to let the disappointment mar her tone but must have failed by the frown on Charlie’s face.

  “In three days?”

  “I know. Go figure.” She arched her neck as Charlie’s fingers trailed from her shoulder to her ear, a slow burn starting in her belly.

  God, his touch felt good.

  “I’m trying to figure, Sar, but honestly? You’re not making too much sense.” He flicked her red hair over her shoulder, bent forward and nipped her neck.

  The second his teeth scraped over her sensitive skin, Sarah forgot to care how sexy her bra was. She just wanted it gone. Twisting her arms behind her back, she unclipped the hooks and let the underwear fall to the floor, loving the rush of air against her hot skin.

  “He phoned and invited me over to his place,” she explained. “Which I thought was pretty okay for a fourth date.” She arched her back as Charlie wound his arm around her waist, dipping her, pushing her now bare breasts upwards.

  He leaned his head down and licked her nipple. Ran his warm, moist tongue over it, and a soft cry filled the air.

  Hers.

  “Pretty okay,” he agreed. “Explains the purple bra too. Drives me crazy when you wear that thing. Suspect it would drive any guy crazy.” He kissed her other nipple.

  Sarah’s breasts tingled beneath the arousing attack, and she arched her back further, encouraging him to keep it up—which he did, in a manner magnificent enough to send chills up her spine.

  “So I get to his place, and there’s someone else there. His friend.”

  Charlie paused. “So you wore the purple bra for…what’s his name again?”

  “Sebastian.”

  “For Sebastian and his friend?”

  “No. I wore it just for Sebastian. His friend happened to drop in minutes before I arrived.”

  “Did the friend get to see the purple bra?” He rubbed his left cheek on one breast then his right cheek on the other. His five o’clock shadow scraped over her sensitized skin, making Sarah shiver.

  “God, no. The friend was a woman, and she wasn’t interested in my bra.”

  “I’m interested in your bra.” He nuzzled her breasts then bit down gently on one nipple, taking Sarah’s breath. “More interested when your bra’s on the floor though.” He drew the nipple he’d just bitten between his lips and suckled it.

  Sarah felt the action all the way down to her toes. Sebastian might be good-looking, but when it came to physical appeal he couldn’t compete with Charlie, her blond-haired, blue-eyed surfer dude. The man was sex on a stick. One look in his direction was enough to get her panties wet. “You’re getting distracted.”

  “You’re distracting me.”

  “I get dumped, and all you can think about is my bra?”

  “Frankly, I’m thinking way more about your tits.”

  “And that should placate me?”

  “Tell me what happened with Sebastian and his friend.”

  He pulled the other nipple into his mouth, making speech almost impossible for Sarah. How could she talk when he treated her to such incredible pleasure? But Charlie deserved an explanation. She’d told him just last night that even though she had been alone when he’d knocked on her door, she wasn’t alone-alone. She’d met Sebastian just a few nights before and really liked him. Which meant her and Charlie’s booty calls were off until further notice.

  “He’s in love with her. Didn’t realize it until this last weekend. He didn’t want to mess me around, so he called me over to explain.”

  Charlie raised his head again. “The dickhead invited you over to his place, where his friend was waiting, so the two of them, together, could tell you they were in love?” He muttered something under his breath.

  “No, he wasn’t expecting her to be there. And she left when I arrived. But he did tell me then that he and I wouldn’t work because he was in love with her.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “He sounds like an asshole to me.”

  She sighed, maybe from dejection or maybe from pleasure as his lips slid over her stomach. “He’s not, you know? And that’s the worst part. He’s a really decent guy. Like marriage-material kind of decent.”

  Unlike Charlie, who was more of a jump-my-bones-now kind of a guy. Marriage was the last item on his list of Things-To-Do-Before-I-Die.

  Not that she was looking to get married, but a real long-term committed relationship would be nice. And yes, a long-term committed relationship with Charlie was a fantasy she’d sometimes indulged in. But that was all it was. A fantasy. Charlie would never allow it to be anything more.

  His hands were on the button of her jeans, tugging at it, pulling down her zip. His fingertips skimmed over her belly, and Sarah had a hard time concentrating. Especially with Charlie on his knees.

  When Charlie got to his knees, strange things happened to Sarah’s lungs. They ceased to function properly.

  “You were thinking marriage after only four dates?” Surprise and horror echoed from his voice.

  “No, I was thinking this was the kind of guy I could take home to meet the parents. The kind of guy I could picture myself with long-term.”

  Unlike Charlie, who always insisted—with glee in his eyes—that his arm
tattoo alone would give her mother an instant heart attack.

  Sarah loved Charlie’s tattoo. A surfer, on his board, just visible through the barrel of a wave. She thought it summed up the essence of the man—he lived chasing the freedom and joy of finding that perfect wave—and didn’t bother arguing with him about her mother’s opinion, since it was irrelevant to him and her.

  “Sounds like a saint.”

  Sarah heard the sarcasm in his voice, but couldn’t respond. Charlie was drawing her jeans over her hips and down her legs, making good and sure to take her panties with them. The matching purple panties that had more than once brought Charlie to his knees.

  His low whistle of appreciation brought a fresh rush of moisture to her pussy.

  “You waxed for him?”

  Sarah looked down, half at the slim strip of hair the beautician had left, and half at Charlie’s admiring gaze. “Lasered. For all the good it did me.”

  “Forget him, Sar. Laser like this more often, and I’ll marry you.”

  She laughed. A raspy sound bore from her breathlessness. “You don’t want to marry me, Charlie. You want to fuck me ’til I can’t walk straight.”

  “Keep your pussy looking like this, and I’ll happily do both.” He blew a hot breath of air over her mound, making Sarah shiver. “Kick your jeans off. Let me examine your new look more carefully.”

  She did as he asked, and he rewarded her by burying his nose just above her clit. Her swollen, pulsing clit.

  “Smells so good,” he murmured. The appreciation in his voice was audible, and a huge turn-on.

  All she could see of his head from this position was his long, blond hair. He tied it back whenever he surfed, but down like this, gorgeous strands of gold glinted through the blond—compliments of his hours spent in the sea and sun.

  God, she loved his hair, loved threading her fingers through it.

  “Think it tastes good?”

  “Gonna have to check on that.” He planted a soft kiss just above her clit, bringing an ache to Sarah’s pussy. She didn’t want his mouth there, just out of reach. She wanted it farther south, tasting her. Touching her. Thrilling her, as only Charlie knew how to do.

  He tapped her leg. “Pop your foot around my shoulder and let me in. I need to explore.” His ragged breath puffed over her bare skin, exciting her further.

  She rested her hands on his hair, lacing her fingers through the thick, tousled strands—so different from Sebastian’s bald head—and hooked one foot over his shoulder.

  The first time she’d done it, she’d very nearly lost her balance, but Charlie’s steady hands had held her up. By now she was a veritable expert at propping herself on one leg. Just as Charlie was an expert when it came to exploring as she stood on that one leg.

  He drew his tongue over her clit and her eyes closed in pleasure. “Tell me about your marrying man, Sar. Get him out of your system while I lick your sweet cunt.”

  “I liked him, Char. Really liked him.” Her heart twisted even as her stomach gave an excited lurch. True to his word, Charlie was licking her cunt. Drawing her lips apart and running his tongue between them, sipping at her juices. “We had so much in common, so much to talk about.” Like her—and unlike Charlie—Sebastian had spent years at uni before finding a good, solid job. Although Sebastian had gone into advertising while she’d stayed on at the campus, choosing to lecture new genetics students and assist her professor with his research project.

  Charlie gave surf lessons, which, as he told her constantly, did not even require a high school certificate. And that was just as well, since Charlie had dropped out of school at sixteen.

  Both Sebastian and Sarah loved older music, like the Stones and Simon and Garfunkel and Billy Joel, and both had grown up in the north of Sydney.

  Charlie liked heavy metal and hard rock, and he hailed from the southern suburbs.

  Sarah briefly wondered why she’d just compared Sebastian to Charlie, but it was difficult to follow the thread of her thought while Charlie worked his magic with his gifted mouth.

  “I swear, we were a good fit. But, well, in the end, he just liked someone else more. His—”

  Charlie swiped his tongue from her slit to her clit and back again, and Sarah forgot what she was saying.

  He paused for just a second to ask, “His?”

  “Hmm?” Heat blossomed from her groin and spread through her entire body.

  “You said…” He punctuated his words with a long draw of his tongue over her clit. “He liked someone more. His…?”

  It took Sarah a good few seconds to remember who she’d been talking about. Impossible to think at all when Charlie had his tongue on her. Impossible.

  Ah, right. Sebastian. “His best friend. He liked his best friend more than he liked me.”

  Charlie slipped a finger into her pussy, knuckle deep, making Sarah groan and her knee wobble.

  “It’s like I said, Sar. He’s a dickhead. Can’t see when he has perfection in front of him.”

  “You think I’m perfect?” She dropped her head back as he slid his finger in all the way. Her nipples tightened into the hardest of beads, and her breath shuddered through her chest.

  “’Course I think you’re perfect. Taste perfect too. Even better than usual.”

  She laughed huskily. “You just like the Brazilian.”

  “Don’t like it. I fucking love it.” And then he said no more as he set about tasting her further. Tasting her completely. Tasting her until shivers turned to shudders and an orgasm slammed through her.

  Her eyes slid shut as the world spun out of control, as her pussy convulsed beneath his tongue and finger, as bliss took her temporarily to another plane.

  Charlie caught her before her knees gave way. Picked her up as though she weighed nothing and carried her over to his leather couch. And that was where she lay, luxuriating in the aftermath of her climax, as Charlie raced to his bathroom, tearing the clothes from his body as he went.

  Fuck, his hand shook so badly, he couldn’t grab the box of condoms without knocking over his bottle of aftershave. It clanged onto the vanity and fell into the basin. Checking only to see that it hadn’t cracked and spilled, he took the entire box in hand and headed back to the lounge, his dick an iron rod in his boardies.

  He’d managed to divest himself of his shirt and thongs, but the unit was small. There’d been no time to lose the shorts. Which was a problem, seeing as they currently held his erection in a death grip, when just fifteen minutes ago they’d fitted comfortably.

  Sarah always had this effect on him. If she came anywhere near him, he got a stiffy. Had from the first time he’d met her, the day he moved into the unit upstairs from hers eighteen months ago.

  He’d slept with her that night. And at least once a week since then. Except for the times she’d been seeing other guys or he’d been with other women. But none of those relationships had outlasted their booty calls.

  Tonight he’d taken one look into her glazed eyes and known her desire was at fever pitch. Known it wouldn’t take much before she came on his tongue.

  What would take an effort though was getting her to come on his cock now.

  Sarah needed to catch her breath before he could whip her up to fever pitch again. But he had time. He didn’t need to be anywhere, and with Saint Sebastian out of the picture, she didn’t need to be anywhere either.

  She lay on the couch with her head on the low arm, her eyes closed and a hand resting on her chest, which heaved unevenly. One knee was bent, her foot perched near her other knee, providing Charlie with an enticing view of her cunt. Her glistening cunt, wet from her juices and his tongue.

  She looked supremely fuckable. But then, even fully dressed, she looked supremely fuckable. Her killer curves could not be hidden by clothes. He could even see them beneath the white lab coat she sometimes forgot to take off before leaving the uni. Damn, she looked good in that lab coat, all virginal and innocent, which he knew—from very personal experience—sh
e was not.

  Charlie fully suspected the woman could wear a potato sack and he’d find her hot.

  “Char?” Her voice was throaty, raspy, like it always sounded after she’d just come.

  “Yeah?”

  She looked at him through sultry green eyes. “Could you take your shorts off and come over here so I can lick your balls?”

  Charlie began to sweat. Seriously, how could a classy woman like her, an academic who looked and acted like an angel, talk like a hooker? It turned the very balls she wanted to lick inside out.

  “I could do that, I guess. If you tell me why you wanna lick them.” He took out a condom and tossed the box onto the coffee table.

  She gave a throaty chuckle, her pale skin flushing pink with excitement. “As if you don’t already know.”

  He shucked his boardies, silently thanking God the pants hadn’t done him permanent damage. “Remind me.”

  “Because, Surfer Dude, licking your balls gets me hot. Really hot. Like second-degree-burns hot. And besides.” Her lips curved into a wicked smile. “They taste like sin. Delicious and forbidden.”

  His dick sprang free, thumping against his stomach.

  “You just gonna lick ’em, Geek Girl?” Charlie made his way over to the arm of the couch where her head rested, surprised he could walk with a stiffy of this size.

  Sarah shuffled up until her neck was supported by the arm and her head tipped over the edge.

  “Uh-uh. I’m going to feast on them.”

  And then her hands were on his legs and she was burrowing her head between his thighs, and true to her promise, licking his balls.

  Jesus, fuck.

  Her tongue was liquid fire, scalding him where it touched. And it touched everywhere. Left not an inch of his scrotum unexplored. His body lit up from head to toe, alive, alert and attentive. Hungry, starving for more of her feasting mouth. She licked, tickled and nuzzled, and when a fierce groan ripped from his throat, she sucked his left testicle into her mouth, gently yet firmly, and Charlie saw fucking fireworks.

  He had to grip the base of his dick and squeeze to force down the urgency to come. Then he had to squeeze even harder when she released his left nut and sucked the right one into her mouth. But when she released that one and nuzzled her way farther back, pushing her tongue between his ass cheeks, he knew he had to stop her. Either they had to change positions or it would be game over before he ever got inside her.