“Coming!”
I throw on my matching cover-up, then answer the door to find him standing there looking like an oasis in the desert. Man, am I parched. I lick my lips as my eyes rove over his chest and the way his blue T-shirt hugs his pecs.
“Hi.”
He smiles, steps inside and closes the door, before taking my hand and tugging me to him. As his hands curl around my waist, I place mine on his chest. Our gazes meet and suddenly, I can think of nothing but his eyes.
“I love your eyes,” I hear myself say. I didn’t mean to; it just popped out.
His smile turns into a smirk and he leans in, gently brushing his lips against mine. I slide my hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. He regains control, forcing my lips apart with his tongue. I moan, fisting my hand in his hair. Molding my body to his, he grabs my ass and squeezes the cheeks. God, I wish there weren’t any clothes between us. We seem to be thinking the same thing because I feel my cover-up sliding slowly up my thighs. My body screams for me to rip his clothes off and drag him to the bedroom. The thought resonates in my head as I swat his hands away and step back.
“I’ll, uh…be ready in a sex…I mean sec.” Shit.
He chuckles, dropping down on the couch. I move shakily to my bedroom and toss my beach essentials into a bag. Resisting him is becoming quite a task. We’re both adults, so why am I even denying myself? Because I know I’d feel like a slut afterwards. Or would I? Maybe I’ll enjoy it so much it won’t even matter that I’ve only known him a few days. Somehow I doubt there’ll be any ‘maybes’ about the situation. I know I’ll enjoy fucking him. What I don’t know is how I’ll feel afterward, so I’ll keep my hands to myself. For now.
He hops to his feet when I rejoin him, motioning for me to walk ahead of him.
In the parking lot, he directs me to his motorcycle, where I see two helmets. The new one is identical to his except for the color. His is black and blue while the other is black and green. He turns to me with the green one, clearly intending to fit it on me.
“You got me my own helmet?”
He nods, smiling as he pushes my hair out of my face. It seems there are more bike rides in my future and my heart jumps at the prospect. He even got my favorite color. How sweet!
“But I like yours. It smells like you.”
He switches them, placing his on my head and mine on his. With a giant smile he can’t see, I take his hand and climb on behind him.
At the end of a very short ride to Lighthouse Beach, he pulls into a parking space and I climb down. While removing my helmet, I watch him dismount and do the same. I fetch my sunglasses from my bag so I can ogle him the way I really want to. The sleeves of his T-shirt are stretched to their limits and may rip at any moment. When he breathes in, his chest expands, further accentuating his defined pecs. I lower my gaze, taking in his narrow waist and the way his shorts hang on his hips. Licking my lips, I drop it lower, remembering the picture on my phone. I cross my legs, trying to contain the twitching between my thighs. He is sin incarnate, and I do believe I’m going to Hell, happily.
He reaches for my hand and I thread my fingers through his. “You come to the beach a lot, don’t you?”
He nods.
“I figured. I really don’t see you in a tanning salon.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy, shaking his head in a firm ‘no’. I did say I don’t see him in a tanning salon. What’s with the look?
“You probably wouldn’t fit on the tanning bed anyway.” So there.
I stick my tongue out at him and he throws his head back, laughing. When his laughter dies down to a chuckle, he releases me to pay for our passes. With that taken care of, he reaches for my hand once more.
“You’re getting pretty good at this hand-holding thing,” I observe.
He smiles and gives my fingers a gentle squeeze as we head for the beach. It is beautiful. The waves of Lake Michigan ebb and flow, caressing the white-sand shore. The smell of sand and sea tickles my senses as I focus on the Grosse Point Lighthouse standing in the distance, once a beacon for ships sailing to Chicago.
It isn’t crowded but he still picks an isolated spot, far from the other patrons. After I spread a blanket on the sand, he removes his shirt and drops it there. While he unbuttons his shorts, he jerks his head toward the water.
“Sunblock first.”
I reach into my bag and pull out the bottle while I watch him undress. Under his shorts, he’s wearing blue Polo swim trunks that land a few inches above his knees. Nothing like the trunks Daniel Craig wore in Casino Royale. Darn it.
While I apply sunblock to my face and arms, he stands there with his hands on his hips, watching and waiting. Apparently, he’s decided he’s not going in without me. I stare at him pointedly.
“You, too.”
We can’t afford to get that beautiful body sunburned. There’s a glint in his eyes as he drops down between my legs, facing away from me. Holy Mary, Jesus, and Joseph! He wants me to do it? Okay…deep breath…I can do this.
“It’s quite a lot of ground to cover.” I giggle.
He smiles at me over his shoulder as I squeeze lotion into my palm. I hand him the bottle and tell him to get his legs; there is no way I could go that close to his crotch and not touch it.
Tentatively, I place my hands on his shoulders. He goes taut and the muscles bunch in his back. I rub the lotion in slowly, making small circles. He passes the bottle back to me and I add more to my palm. I move down his back, feeling his corded muscles and the way they move beneath my touch. Unwillingly, I stop at the waistband of his shorts and move to his huge arms. To get a better angle, I move around him and straddle his hips. He watches me with hooded eyes as I massage the lotion into his skin. Lord, he feels amazing! I wonder if he can feel my pussy twitching.
I move to his face, tracing the contours of his perfect features. He closes his eyes and leans back on his hands. I swallow hard as I look down at his chest, my hands shaking a little as I refill on lotion. He lies back on the blanket, offering himself up to my roving hands. I start at his stomach, running my fingers across his six-pack, watching with glee as his muscles jump.
“Okay?” I ask.
He dips his head once in acknowledgement, but I notice the strain on his face. I know I’m playing with fire here, but hey…YOLO. I pull my cover-up over my head and toss it aside. His eyes open wide and his hands move to my hips.
“You like? A little birdy told me blue is your favorite color.”
He zeroes in on my breasts and bites into his bottom lip. I can feel him hardening, and I shift my position so I’m sitting directly on his crotch. He sinks his fingers into my hips as I move up to his pecs, continuing my sunblock mission. As my hands move over his chest, his left pectoral jumps. My eyes widen and I clap like an exuberant child.
“Do that again.”
He gives me a sexy smirk and it jumps again. It’s followed by the right, and then both of them simultaneously.
“Ooh…I like that! I wonder if I can do it.” I stare down at my breasts, putting all my concentration into getting them to move. Nothing happens. “Oh, well. I’ll just be content with watching you do it.”
I return my gaze to him and his is glued to my breasts again.
“I’m up here, mister.” His eyes slide lazily up to mine and I shake my head. “Have you even seen past my rack yet?”
Slowly, his hands slide to my ass and he gives my cheeks a squeeze.
“Pervert.”
He chuckles and gives them another.
“So, boobs and ass…is that all you like about me?”
Tilting his head to the side, he studies me before tapping my temple with his index finger. My mind.
“Good answer. Want to know what I like about you?”
He nods, giving me a huge grin.
“Eyes, lips, arms, chest, abs…” I reel off the list. “And this…” I slide down his legs and gently trail my finger down the gr
oove of his V-line. “Right here.”
He grabs my hand and I gasp as he tugs me toward him. I fall on his chest, my breasts crushed against the hard surface. In the next instant, he flips over and I’m beneath him.
“Whoa!”
Kneeling between my legs, he throws one over his shoulder. I watch with bated breath as he reaches for the sunblock. It spurts out of the bottle and he rubs his palms together. Starting with my ankle, he works his way up, his thumbs making circles on my calves, massaging the cream into my skin. I squirm beneath him as he moves to my thighs. His touch is doing things to my body I can’t even explain. I watch his eyes, which grow darker the closer he gets to the junction of my thighs. My breath catches in my throat as his thumb hovers at the edge of my bikini bottom. He looks up at me and I swallow hard. This heat between us is indefinable but cannot be ignored. I’m wound so tightly, I’m sure I’d have him inside me right now if we weren’t in public. Public. Shit. I grab his hand as he moves to my other thigh.
“Maybe I should take it from here.”
He gently pulls his hand from my grip, but his expression says he will not be denied. Shifting my leg from his shoulder, he quickly does the other one, then pulls me closer, hooking them around his waist. With a smirk, he positions the bottle between us, holding it like he would his dick, and squirts the lotion on my stomach. It makes me laugh, but the sound is cut short when he begins rubbing it on. My stomach muscles jump first, then every sensory nerve in my body begins to fire. Splaying his hands at my sides, he uses his thumbs to turn my body into a quivering heap of flesh. They move up, finding their way beneath my bikini top, brushing the undersides of my breasts. My lids flutter closed and I moan, arching my back. A small—insignificant, really—part of my brain is nudging me to stop him, but I ignore it. I desperately want him to keep going. Instead of advancing to my nipples, he bypasses them, applying lotion to the exposed portions of my breasts, sternum, and neck. I gaze up at him, disappointed but grateful he understands I’m not ready.
Grasping my wrists, he pulls me up and onto his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck, waiting to see what he’ll do next. His hands glide over my back, distributing more lotion.
“You’re quite thorough,” I whisper. In reply, he moves down, and grabs my ass. I smile, sliding my hands through his hair. “You don’t need sunblock as an excuse to do that.”
Satisfied with the job he’s done, he rises to his feet with a smirk. I wrap my legs around his hips as he carries me to the water. He gets waist deep and keeps going.
“Please, don’t get my hair wet.” Who told me to say that? With a menacing grin, he begins lowering us. “Cameron, don’t!”
He doesn’t listen, and I hold my breath just in time. After being dunked, I come up sputtering, while he comes up laughing. Asshole.
“Asshole!” I smack his shoulder. It only serves to intensify his laughter.
I try to escape his hold, but he presses me against him and begins kissing my neck. I instantly forget what I was angry about. As his lips move north, his hands move south. He covers my lips, snaking his tongue between them while he grabs and squeezes my ass. I feel him getting hard and, in my position, the head of his dick is pushing at my entrance. His shorts and my bikini bottom are the only things preventing him from sliding inside. As if reading my mind, he starts undoing one of the knots on my hip.
“Wait.” I pull back, swallowing hard. He watches me patiently, his gaze penetrating. “I know you’re probably not used to this, but…I just don’t do casual sex.” I gasp as he presses his hard-on against my pussy. “I want to. You know I do. It’s just…” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want you to think of me as some slut; just another nameless face from your dressing room.” He trails his thumb across my bottom lip, his expression softening. “What makes it worse is I want to. You make me want to be one…for you.”
His eyes beg me to trust him. Taking a leap of faith, I nod, biting into my bottom lip. He puts some space between us then one side of my bottom falls away. Nervous anticipation flows through me. When he pulls me against him once more, my pussy connects with his dick. His naked dick. I gasp and his hold on me tightens, keeping me firmly in place.
“Cameron…” My eyes dart around nervously, wondering if anyone can tell what we’re doing.
Without a care for possible onlookers, he moves me, up and down, parting my lips and rubbing against my clit. I grab his shoulders, sinking my nails into them as tremors ripple through my body. He grunts, pressing me into him. Cradling his face, I pull his lips to mine, craving his taste. He sucks on my lips, then my tongue as I slide it against his. I move against him, wanting him to come as much as I want to. He groans into my mouth, his fingertips digging into my flesh. As good as this feels, I need more. That nagging voice in the back of my mind just won’t let me have it. So I concentrate on what’s happening now, angling my hips so my clit gets the most attention. It won’t be long now. I don’t know what it is about him but the moment he touches me, I’m ready to come. I guess that’s what happens when the physical chemistry is this strong. When I feel my orgasm creeping up, I bury my face in his neck and clench my muscles. He takes over once more, moving me as fast as the water will allow.
“Oh, God. I’m coming!” I try to keep my voice down, mumbling against his skin.
I convulse against him, gripping him with my thighs as pleasure courses through my veins. As my tremors die down, he grunts, and I feel a slight shiver run through him.
“Did you…?” I ask, raising a brow.
He replies with a dip of his head, and a satisfied smile.
“Dude…you so just impregnated a bunch of fishes.”
He chuckles.
“In about a month, little fishy versions of you are going to be swimming around, having little fishy MMA tournaments.” I giggle at myself, thinking I must have gotten an overdose of endorphins from that amazing orgasm. Or I’ve lost my mind.
He smacks a wet kiss on my lips, setting me on my feet before re-tying my bikini bottom.
“Thank you.”
He smirks, arrogance radiating from his pores.
“Not for the orgasm!” I clarify. “Well, for that, too…but mostly for understanding that I’m not ready for more.”
Grasping my chin, he tips my face up to his and plants a gentle kiss on my lips. With a contented sigh, I break away from him.
“I’m gonna go dry my hair.”
I leave him and head for the shore, inconspicuously checking to make sure my bikini bottom isn’t skewed. When I drop down on the towel, two women begin setting up not too far from me. I pay them no mind until one of them makes a remark that brings my gaze back to the water.
“Holy shit! Look at that sexy piece of man-candy!”
Cameron is making his way back to shore, too, splashing water on his chest.
“I’d happily endure diabetes for a regular serving of that,” the other woman says, and they both giggle.
I smirk to myself, knowing that giant Kit Kat bar is making his way to me. The other women start primping, realizing he’s heading this way.
“How do I look?” the first one asks eagerly.
“Fuck you. How do I look?”
I almost laugh out loud but hold it in. As Cameron gets closer, he grins, revealing those pearly whites of his. I keep drying my hair, not giving anything away. The women have lowered their voices now so I can’t hear what they’re saying. Standing at the edge of the towel, Cameron pulls me to my feet and kisses me. He kisses me like there’s no tomorrow then, just as abruptly, he breaks away and grabs his towel. Once I recover, I glance at the women and their eyes are glued to me, mouths gaping in a mixture of shock and jealousy. I smile to myself, grabbing my cover-up when I see Cameron getting dressed.
All packed, we head back to where we parked. Before we ride out, I notice a truck selling soft-serve ice cream and ask him to stop. Again, he takes my hand as we walk over to the truck. I’m starting to get quite optimistic about where this relat
ionship is going. It’s just holding hands but still, it’s something from a man who’s accustomed to fucking groupies after his fights.
When the ice cream man asks what flavor I want, I turn to Cameron with a smirk, licking my lips as my gaze travels from head to toe.
“Vanilla.”
“And for you, sir?” he asks as he hands me mine.
Playing along, he points to the chocolate and vanilla swirl with a smirk of his own.
“Good choice.” I laugh, confusing the ice cream man.
He pays, and I slip my hand in his as we make our way back to his bike. This has been the best hooky day ever. He may be a distraction, but I’ll take his brand of distraction any day.
CHAPTER 5
Strike with the soul and you will never miss. – Kelly Bates
I smile as I make my way to my car. It’s a textbook case of classical conditioning. For the last two weeks, every time I hear a motorcycle, I get giddy and start grinning like an idiot. However, I’m smiling now because I know it’s his motorcycle. He always seems to catch me on my way out. I turn in his direction, and before he turns off the ignition, I’m on him like white on rice. He removes his helmet and grins down at me.
“Hi.” I climb on and straddle him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Where’s my kiss?”
His hands slide over my ass and he pulls me closer. I like this part. The ‘lead up’…it’s just as good as the actual kiss, and he’s a master at it. His smile is gone and he’s staring at my lips. My heart rate increases and my breathing becomes rapid. I lick my lips, anticipating the greatness to come. He curls his finger beneath my chin and tilts my head up. Slowly, he leans in and brushes his lips against mine. The Reaction…it’s gotten even stronger. He takes my bottom lip between his and gently pulls. Just as I’m about to kiss him back, he breaks away. What’s wrong now? I gaze into his eyes, looking for a hint. He wants to know where I’m going. Oh, yeah…I’m an expert at reading him now. If anyone overhears our ‘conversations’, they’ll think I’m a crazy person talking to myself.
Beyond the Cage Page 4