by Tawny Weber
“There’s nothing vanilla about you, or the sexy little things you wear.”
Their height difference a challenge he’d solved years back, he looked around quickly, then wrapped his hands around her waist and effortlessly lifted. Her hands gripped his shoulders for balance as he set her on the counter.
“Jason—”
He could see the sexual fog clearing from her eyes, concern and way too much sanity starting to shine in those dark depths.
Nope, definitely not the look he wanted.
Quickly, he kissed her again. A swipe of his tongue over her lips was all it took to get her to open that delicious mouth to him. Her lips were warm and inviting, even though her hands on his shoulders pressed against him like she was making sure he didn’t get any closer.
A challenge?
Perfect.
He stepped up his game, taking the kiss deeper as he slipped his tongue in, out, then in again to mimic the slow, heady pleasure he’d have sliding the hard length of his dick into the welcoming warmth of her body.
His hand swept down her smooth arm to her elbow, then slid back up to curve down the side of her torso. Her breath caught. He could feel her anticipation build as the side of his hand brushed against the heavy weight of her breast.
Her gasping little moan sent a shaft of desire straight through his body. Muscles taut, he reminded himself not to get carried away. This was just a little fun. A little kiss for old times’ sake. He was in control here.
He moved his hand slowly, oh-so-slowly, back up the same path along her torso. But this time, his palm cupped her breast. Barely touching, just a hint of pressure, as if he was sensing the delicious weight rather than holding it.
Her fingernails dug into his biceps.
Screw control.
He shifted, taking her breast into his hand. The hardened tip nudged his palm. He curved his fingers under the lace of her silky little top so he was gripping it. It took all his restraint not to give it one swift rip so he could get to the barely hidden treasure. But destroying Larissa’s underwear would probably ruin the mood. At least, for her.
Instead he dipped deeper, rubbing the backs of his knuckles over the hard bud. It felt like pebbled velvet. He wanted—needed—to see more.
He slowly, reluctantly, pulled his mouth from hers. He hated to leave that delicious pleasure, but his need was too high. He took a second to take in her face, all sharp angles and those huge, huge eyes staring back languidly. Then he dropped his gaze to her candlelit chest.
Her skin was so pale, even in the flickering light, he could see the faint pattern of veins as her heart beat a rapid tattoo right above her silky top.
His body tense, his nerve endings all zinging in anticipation, he slowly used one finger to slide a strap down her arm. The top dropped a little. He held his breath, but the lace caught on her beaded nipple. He could see the rosy point through the delicate threads like a ripe raspberry hidden by frothy sugar. A deliciously teasing temptation.
Concentration narrowing to a pinpoint, he rubbed the tip of his forefinger over the lace. Her nipple puckered even tighter. Her breath shuddered, making her breast bounce gently against his skin.
Slowly, all of his moves careful and deliberate, he settled her knees to one side of his thighs. Then he leaned closer so Larissa had to tilt backward, her hands propping her up in a half sitting, half lying position.
“I dream of you,” he confessed beneath his breath just before taking that plump tip into his mouth. His tongue swirled as he gently sucked on her flesh. She tasted so good. The lace added an extra layer of surreal delight to the experience. Between the candlelight and the lack of any sound other than Larissa’s gentle moans, it was like he was in a dream.
A very tasty, very erotic, very tempting dream that made him wish for things he’d long since given up as impossible.
Like sweet Larissa.
Bittersweet pain layered over the fervent delight pounding through his body as he remembered that, as good as she tasted, as much as he wanted her, this road was a dead end. Larissa was a forever girl and he was all about the present moment.
He rasped his tongue over her burgeoning flesh. His muscles tensed at Larissa’s gasp. She was so responsive, her body so tuned in to his own desires, it was like his wildest dream was coming true right before his eyes. And right under his tongue.
So if the present moment was all he could get, he’d wring every drop of pleasure from it he could.
Focused on that, he pushed the lace away with his tongue while his other hand slid the opposite strap down her arm. The fabric dropped, framing her breasts in a silken cradle for his enjoyment.
His fingers traced a delicate pattern over one breast, sliding over the tip so she gasped, then cupping and holding the weight up for his kisses. Gently at first, he brushed his lips over one tip, then the other. His kisses got hotter. His teeth nipped, his fingers plucked the delicate flesh into tighter pebbles of delight.
More, his body shouted.
He slid his tongue up her slender throat, then took her mouth in a voracious, hot and wet kiss. Teeth, tongue and lips slid together in a wild dance. Knowing he was pushing his luck, hoping she was turned on enough to let him, he slipped one hand along her side until he found the button and zipper holding her straight jacket masquerading as a skirt closed. A flick of his fingers and he loosed the fabric.
His mouth still on hers, he used his torso to press her backward so she lay lengthwise down the counter. Her hands roamed his shoulders before she slid one inside the open collar of his shirt. Her fingernails scraped a trail of ecstasy along his chest and she gave a low purr that vibrated through his body like thunder.
With open-mouthed kisses, he made his way down to her chest. Unable to help himself, he stopped to pay special homage with a flick of his tongue to each straining nipple before kissing his way down the curve of her breasts to her stomach. He nibbled at the soft flesh, his hands going to the loosened waistband of her skirt. As if she’d just realized what he’d done, her body tensed. He pulled one hand from the skirt, sliding his palm in the opposite direction of his mouth until he cupped her breast, his fingers creating a sensual distraction.
It was only when he felt her relax again, her muscles softening, her focus on the pleasure he was giving her instead of worrying about what he was up to, that he pressed his kisses lower. He nudged the skirt down to bare her belly, kissing the sweet indention before swirling his tongue in, then out. A little shudder rocked through her body, sending a shaft of pleasure through him.
He kissed lower, taking the skirt down as he went. When the fabric caught at her hips, he winced, knowing his sneaky plan of descent was in jeopardy. Larissa shifted. He moved fast, sliding her skirt off her legs in a single swift tug. Before it hit the floor he had his fingers inside her panties.
Knowing she could call it quits at any time, he went right for the gusto. Draping her knees over his shoulders, he spread her legs wide.
She gave a high, keening cry of pleasure when he rubbed his thumb along her swollen clit and he knew he had her. Tension poured from his shoulders and he let himself relax and give over to the moment.
A tiny scrap of lace masqueraded as her panties. He didn’t waste time pulling them off her hips. It was faster, easier, to slide it aside so he could have full access to her wet delight.
His fingers slid into her tight sheath, swirling and dancing to the rhythm of her hips as she rose to meet his thrusting digits. He breathed in her musky scent and groaned, then licked her like an ice cream cone.
Already primed, she went off like a rocket. A cry of shocked pleasure ripped through her. She grabbed his shoulders, whether for traction as she raised her hips or to make sure he didn’t stop, he didn’t know. Didn’t care.
He sucked the dewy fold between his teeth.
“Oh, God,” she gasped hoarsely.
He nipped, then soothed her with his tongue. Her Oh, God became a chanting entreaty.
His fingers fou
nd her rhythm. His tongue matched it. Knowing she was right there on the edge, he reached up to give her nipple a little tug.
She exploded. Her chants became a keening cry of ecstasy. Her body tensed, as if she were holding on to the orgasm as tight as she could. Then she surrendered, her hips falling back to the counter and her entire body relaxed.
Shudders, tiny little tremors, quaked through her body. The sound of her labored gasps echoed through the room, music to his ears. The sharp bite of her fingernails in his shoulders eased. Consciously or not, she rubbed the tips of her fingers over the flesh she’d just gripped so tightly as if trying to ease the sting.
He wanted her like crazy. He needed the feel of her hot, tight body sheathing his. Milking the pleasure from him until he was spent. His dick throbbed painfully, begging for release.
Jason dropped his head against her belly, his face pressed to the smooth warmth. He knew what was in his wallet down to the exact dollar, the placement of every credit card because he’d watched customs dig through it just that morning.
And nowhere in there, or anywhere else on his person, was anything resembling a condom. He wanted to scream in frustration.
He licked his lips and lifted his head, smiling at the sight of her, all mussed and heavy eyed. Color warmed her to a soft rosy shade, from her cheeks to her tasty nipples.
Regret twined with frustration at the sight. In that second, he wished everything could be different. That he could be different. He wanted to promise her anything if it’d give them another chance.
But he’d done that once already. And the results had pretty much sucked.
So all he said was, “Yum.”
7
YUM?
Her head spinning, Larissa didn’t know if she was supposed to thank him for the climax, or, well, thank him for stopping.
Her body was still shaking with pleasure, orgasmic after-tremors shuddering through her as Jason pressed another kiss to her hypersensitive belly before pulling away from her.
He gave a pained wince as he straightened. Her gaze automatically dropped to his crotch, where his erection was looking like The Incredible Hulk, ready to rip itself free of his jeans.
She licked her lips. Oh, yeah. Yum, indeed.
He pulled away, his back cracking through the room like a slap, pulling her out of her sexual fog.
Of course his body was protesting. He was sporting a redwood-sized hard-on.
Before, she’d have played this for that. Because the man was so freaking amazing at this, she loved giving him that.
But this wasn’t before. And the only thing they’d ever had that was real between them was sex. A fact she needed to remember.
Suddenly very aware of how naked she was, in more ways than one, Larissa sat upright, pulling her camisole straps back over her shoulders and adjusting her panties. Avoiding his eyes, she slipped her legs to the edge of the counter, but before she could hop down, Jason reached out. His hands wrapped around her waist, so big and warm, and he lifted her gently to her feet.
Tears stung her eyes. Why did he have to be so damned sweet? Couldn’t he just be incredible in bed? Just be good at the sex stuff and useless at melting her heart? She wanted to punch him in the arm, he made her so angry. He was everything she wanted in a man. But he was everything she didn’t want, too.
“That was a mistake,” she muttered, looking around for her skirt and jacket, hoping they’d offer some modesty. Her jacket was there hanging on the edge of the counter. She snagged it and shoved her arms into the sleeves so hard she was surprised she didn’t rip the delicate fabric.
“Am I supposed to apologize?” Jason asked with a laugh that stopped somewhere between pain and irritation. “You weren’t shoving my head away, babe. So I figured you were having yourself a pretty good time. If I had a condom, I’m betting we’d be making each other see stars right about now.”
Just as angry with herself as she was with him, Larissa shrugged. After a quick glare at the useless chastity belt of a skirt, she scooped it up. It only took a second to decide that wiggling into it would only make the situation worse, so she snagged the soft blanket that had started all this trouble and wrapped it around herself.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to get dressed,” she said, clutching her skirt in her fist and heading to the bathroom at the back of the store. Realizing she’d be dressing in a strange pitch black room, she hesitated.
Jason heaved a loud sigh and, walking so stiffly she winced with guilt, he scooped another candle from box and handed it to her. “I don’t have the cootie matches so you’re on your own for getting it lit.”
Larissa pulled her gaze from the long, hard length pressing in painful relief against his zipper before she did something crazy, like drop the blanket. But darn it, she’d been raised with the concept of one good turn deserves another, and if she’d ever seen something worth turning, it was straining that zipper.
No. Their little sexual reunion had been a mistake. A wonderful, mind blowing, deliciously wonderful mistake. Compounding one mistake with another would be crazy. Feel and taste great, but still… “No!”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.” She grimaced, then gave him an apologetic look and took the candle. Not willing to bend over and dig through the box, given the naked state of her butt, even covered with a fluffy blanket, she tilted the other candle until the fresh wick took flame.
Sex, even great sex, wasn’t worth giving up her romantic values for. She’d tried that once—with Jason himself, as a matter of fact—and it’d bitten her in the ass. No, romance was something that would last. It was a give and take, a careful consideration of the other person’s needs and a desire to do special little things to make them feel good. Romance was about the little things that said you wanted to build a beautiful future together.
And while she might stretch that definition by pretending she was being considerate in wanting to take care of his needs and desires, there was nothing little about his thing.
She and Jason? Sure he had his romantic moments, like when he’d helped her down from the counter. He had it in him to be sweet and thoughtful. He was a gentleman without making a big deal of it.
But she’d tried to convince herself once that those moments made for a romantic relationship. And usually then, like now, she was doing the convincing while her body was still rocking the wild afterglow of an orgasm.
The reality was, they had no future beyond this power outage.
Pretending that didn’t bother her, Larissa took her candle and skirt and hurried her blanket-covered butt to the back room. Once there, she sucked in a deep breath to try and control the tears that’d suddenly flooded her eyes.
She was being silly. It was just emotional overload brought on by the best orgasm she’d had in two years. Nothing to cry about. Well, other than the fact that this just proved that all her orgasms over the last almost-two years had been pretty pathetic.
She put the candle on the bathroom counter, taking care that it was safe. Setting the place on fire was probably a bad idea, given that she had no clue if the alarms became inactive without power.
A quick shake told her the wrinkles were now a permanent feature of her skirt. No matter, it wasn’t like she’d ever wear it again anyway.
She stepped into the skirt and with a wiggle of her hips, slid it into place. She avoided looking in the mirror, knowing her candlelit face would tell her way more than she was willing to handle.
Instead, she gathered the blanket and candle again, and with a deep breath and quick lecture, rejoined Jason in the store.
Except… She looked around. He wasn’t there.
“Jason?”
Fear tickled her spine. Visions of horror movies filled her head. It was always the idiot girl who had irresponsible sex that got whacked by the ax-wielding maniac. But was it really irresponsible? They hadn’t had actual intercourse, after all. The only potential danger was to her heart, not her health.
“Jason,” she yelled, tossing the blanket on the settee and hurrying to the front of the store.
No response.
Nerves screaming, she looked around for a weapon. Nothing. Then she spied the long, dusty box Jason had tossed on the bench outside the store. Hurrying over, she flipped the lid open and with a grimace, grabbed the three-foot long wooden dick.
It was smooth and weirdly warm beneath her fingers. And heavier than she’d have guessed. Guys hung this from their dicks? Talk about a workout.
Pretending it was just a stick, not an ode to the fragility of the male ego, she hefted it over one shoulder and lifted the candle high in her other hand.
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to walk down the hallway toward the hotel.
“Jason,” she called again tentatively.
Her voice sounded like a mouse’s squeak. Pathetic.
“Jason?” she yelled this time.
Was that a sound? She stopped so she could hear without the sound of her high heels tapping against the floor to distract her.
Larissa put the candle down on one of the center display counters so she could get a better grip on the dick in case she needed it as a weapon. For the first time, she was glad it was a big dick.
Swallowing the balled up terror stuck in her throat, she took a deep breath and turned the corner.
“That works better with a body in it.”
Larissa jumped, screaming. Spinning around, she wielded the wooden dick like a baseball bat, ready to smack the head off the ax-wielder.
Lightning fast, the man jumped backward just before it cracked him in the face. Jason’s laughter roared, echoing and bouncing mockingly off the high ceilings.
She could barely make out his features in the dark, which meant he couldn’t see her glare, either. But she still offered her death-stare as he bent at the waist, his fists on his thighs because he was howling like a baboon.