Breaking Stone: Bad Boy Romance Novel

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Breaking Stone: Bad Boy Romance Novel Page 12

by Raleigh Blake


  I don’t think I was inflating what had just happened back there with my imagination. The offer to demonstrate still rang in my ears. If I died now, with those being the last words I ever heard, I’d die happy—not necessarily fulfilled, but happy. In the mirror, I looked the same, if not a little flushed. I splashed cold water over my face, ruining the barely nude makeup I’d carefully applied. With a paper tissue, I blotted my eyes. At least my mascara had remained intact.

  I wanted to text Carrie to ask her what to do, but my phone and handbag were back at my seat. Really, I needed to take control. Carrie was good for wardrobe decisions and chatting, but I couldn’t make her my Magic 8 ball, seeking advice for every move in my life.

  I braced my hands on the vanity and took a few more breaths. I couldn’t hide here in the bathroom all the way to Providence. I straightened up, tugged on my blouse, and exited the bathroom.

  He was waiting for me outside the door. In an instant, I wasn’t on the train, but in Stone’s arms. He backed me into this little nook right near the point where you could cross over to the next car.

  “Stone, what are you doing? Somebody will see us.”

  “I’ve got you covered, Poppins.”

  And he did. I knew he meant that jammed in this spot, all anyone would see was his back and the obvious fact that he was kissing somebody. I hadn’t forgotten his mouth, the feel of his lips, the taste of him, but this kiss was different. It came with a hard urgency, a knee wedged between my thighs and a more sexual than seductive feel.

  My world turned into a blazing white light, and I totally went for it. I abandoned every idea of keeping my crush under control as I fought his tongue with my own, biting his lip this time as he drew away from me, then came back for a second round. Suddenly, he broke off, murmuring something about ‘that’s two’, and he led me by the hand back to our seats.

  My. God.

  He helped me into my seat, sat me down, then followed, sitting on his hip a little to face me.

  I finally regained my senses. “Is this another thing we’ll never mention again?” I asked.

  “You taste fucking divine, Poppins. I wanted to tell you that after the first kiss, but I’d made that promise not to talk about it. Now? Now, I don’t think I can stop.”

  I tried hard to make sense of what was happening, the other part of me trying to catalog it, remember every detail, and throw caution to the wind and run with whatever the hell was going on here.

  “I know about the list,” I blurted in case a second kiss had been written on the bottom of it and I’d failed to read that far. He should have been embarrassed. Any normal person would be, but Stone looked pleased with himself.

  “I know you do,” he said. “You’re a lousy snoop. I found it on the floor, and you hadn’t even folded it properly. Don’t ever go for a spying job, because you’d be discovered by dawn.”

  “Because I’m honest, Stone. I don’t make secret lists.”

  “No, you just read them.”

  While we spoke, he kept his eyes on my face, his own quite unreadable. Sure, he looked calm in contrast to the chaos taking place in my head, but this felt distinctly different to any conversation we’d previously had. His attention was squarely aimed at me.

  “I shouldn’t have done that, and neither should you. What is the list, anyway?”

  “I thought you’d have recognized it.” He slipped a strand of hair that had come loose away from my face. “Need these sweet cheeks uncovered so I can watch you turn scarlet.”

  Right on cue, a rush of heat shot up my neck to my face.

  “There you go.” He rubbed the back of his knuckles down my face. The shiver it caused left a low tremble that settled in my stomach.

  “So, the list,” he continued. “It’s all those things you need to experience. We’ll work through them.”

  “Are you crazy?’

  “That’s almost a compliment.”

  “What makes you think you know the things I want to experience?”

  “How wrong have I been so far?”

  He had a point. All the things we’d done had appeared on my vision board in an effort to manifest them. And it had worked, even though I knew the whole law of attraction thing was a load of nonsense. That’s when I got the idea. “Stone Logan, did you stalk my Pinterest?”

  “Guilty. And Facebook, and Instagram.”

  I experienced that terrible moment when somebody says they remember you from a party and you dash through the events of the night to work out if you’d done anything you needed to defend. I’m sure I hadn’t posted anything too awful, as if the vision boards weren’t bad enough. Still, I needed to find out where he intended to head with this. “So, having gone through my sorry dreams, what did you think?”

  “Are you fishing?”

  “Don’t worry, I really don’t care,” I said, turning to look out the window, caring all the way to my core.

  He slipped a finger under my chin, angling my face back to him. “You care, and I’m going to tell you. I found a young woman wishing to do things but incapable of taking that first step. So I decided to make a list and show her how to walk through it. Then I decided, what the heck, I’d walk through it with her. And I’m really glad I did because I’m jaded, and I find it hard to get jazzed up about stuff these days. Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

  “Can I see the list again? I want to know a bit more about the pleasure promise.”

  “And I want to surprise you, so that’s a no.”

  I pouted and feigned immense disappointment.

  “That’s not even cute, Poppins. You’ll have to try harder.”

  “What if I blush?” I asked.

  He grinned. “I bet you can’t summon any color.”

  He was right. Trying to blush was as impossible as trying not to be affected by his kiss. Then I remembered something. “What did you say, back there after you kissed me?”

  “Oh, now you’re changing color. I said ‘that’s two’. See if you can work out why I’d say something like that.”

  15

  Stone

  Fuck, I loved kissing Katrina. It was so pure and unpracticed, like she was trying it out for the first time. I didn’t think I could ever tire of it. Would she remember the post on her vision board of the eighty-five different ways to kiss? I’d read through that thing, intent on making it eighty-six, because fuck the internet. I wasn’t going to let someone’s blog place any limitations on me.

  I could almost hear the cogs whirring in her head as she tried to work out what I meant. Her face was a script for her emotions, and I watched, keen to spot the moment when she understood.

  We were interrupted by the hostess, who brought us drinks—a glass of champagne for Katrina and a craft beer for me. I’d ordered them when she’d made a run for the bathroom because bolting from her seat suggested she might need fortification for the journey.

  “Here’s to experiences,” I said, tilting my glass to hers. We clinked, said cheers, and just as she was taking her glass to her lips, it happened. She lowered her glass to the table.

  “Eighty-five different ways...” she said, her eyes growing bigger.

  “Winner.”

  “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted. So, what was that one?”

  “It could fall into a number of categories. But let’s not get too hung up on that list. I’m creative. I don’t need a kissing list, and I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”

  I pulled her over so that she straddled my lap. I’d been hard since the last kiss and didn’t care that she was about to find out. I brought her head down to mine. “Let’s get started. There’s a lot of work to get through, and the deadline’s looming.”

  She was a fast learner, latching onto my mouth like it would sustain life. Her passion rather than her expertise made it the sweetest, hottest kiss I’d ever enjoyed. I grabbed her hips, tugged her down onto my hard cock, and ground against her, hoping her pussy was as wet as her mouth. I broke the ki
ss, actually getting a thrill from the flash of disappointment in her eyes. No practiced pout, just honesty.

  Mouthing along her jaw with tiny kisses, I paused when I reached that sweet spot behind her ear. She shuddered against my cock.

  “If the hostess wasn’t walking up the aisle right now, I’d hitch up your skirt, unzip my jeans, and slide my cock into you.”

  “We’re on a train,” she gasped.

  “In public.”

  “We’d be arrested.”

  “Only if we were caught.”

  She leaned back, a move that pushed her harder against my poor, trapped dick.

  “Are you trying to corrupt me?” she asked.

  “I hope so.” I grabbed her wrist as she made to slap my shoulder. “No fighting, Poppins. We’ll be thrown off the train.”

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  “And unforgettable. Now get back into your seat and stop distracting me. The deadline looms, and I’m not intending to spend the weekend trapped in a suite, looking out a window at you having all the fun.”

  The idea of having Katrina to myself for the weekend, and the things I had planned for her, drove my work ethic through the roof. Inspired by that kiss, my word count exceeded anything I’d previously achieved. Katrina curled on the seat beside me, reading book six. Good. The sex in that thing was wild. I could feel any time she glanced my way, every gaze heated, the tension between us increasing with every mile.

  I’d forgotten how fucking heady anticipation was. When Katrina headed off to the bathroom again, this time because she actually needed to pee rather than use it as an excuse to escape from me, it took immense force of will to stop myself from following her. In the old days, that’s what I would have done.

  I’d have found some hot girl on the train, given her the nod, and met her for a fast and furious fuck in the bathroom. Not completely classy, but most satisfying. Maybe Katrina and I would do that on the way home, but the first time I took her was going to be a long, slow seduction somewhere comfortable.

  By the time we reached Providence, we’d exchanged so many heated looks that I was surprised a fire hadn’t broken out. There was this cute thing she did with her mouth when she tried not to smile. It was making my writing so easy, having a living study alongside me. The sex scene I knocked out was one of the most inspired of my entire career. Soon, I’d turn it into reality.

  The sensation of the train decelerating forced me to snap the laptop shut and gather up my things. Katrina was almost vibrating with excitement, and that somehow gave me some measure of control. I took a firm clasp of her hand as we left the train. Crossing the platform, I pulled her hard to my side.

  “Can’t wait to get to the hotel, Poppins. If your mouth is anything to go by, I’m anxious to taste your pussy.”

  “Are you crazy?” she hissed, shooting looks at the people surrounding us, trying to work out which of them heard me.

  “Fuck, yes, totally, and you’re the only one who can give me back my sanity.”

  “I never took you for such a drama queen,” she said, tugging on my arm. Then she leaned into me and whispered, “People are watching us, and I’m sure they’re listening.”

  “Good for them. It might add some spice to their lives.”

  I gave the cab driver the address to the hotel. I’d stayed there before, in a different suite, but I wanted to spoil Katrina with their best. I got the feeling she’d never done this sort of thing before. The initial idea was to give her tomorrow’s experience, but now, all I could think of was talking her to heaven with my mouth between her legs, followed by my cock.

  Check-in was mercifully fast, and I tipped the guy who carried our bags, almost pushing him out the door when he wanted to explain how things worked. For fuck’s sake, I’ve used a bathroom and Wi-Fi before. It couldn’t be so difficult that we needed a lesson.

  I shut the door and felt like a king. Katrina was wandering about, commenting on the suite, the furnishings, the luxury, and the amazing view. I joined her at the window, and suddenly, I couldn’t wait any longer.

  “The view’s all yours tomorrow, but right now, there’s a different view I want.”

  Her pretty eyes brightened. “What would that be?”

  I placed my hands on her shoulders and steered her until her back was against the wall. We’d get to the bedroom soon enough, but I had another kiss to tick off.

  I slipped off her jacket and tossed it behind me, noting her disapproval as she tried to duck by me, probably to hang it in the closet.

  “Don’t move,” I growled.

  “Stone...”

  “Stay right there, Poppins. I’m taking you on a little trip, and I’m the pilot. I hate rules, but you seem to like them, so you’re going to obey me. I’m hoping you’ve learned your ‘stay’ better than Buster.”

  She nodded.

  “Good girl. You stay, and I’ll give you a treat,” I teased.

  Her arms came away from her side, reaching for me. I pushed them back and pressed her palms against the wall. “Stay, Poppins,” I said against her mouth, and the little sound of surrender she made shot straight to my cock. Pressed with my legs bracketing hers, I reached behind her and lowered the zipper at the back of her skirt. The whole time, I stayed with her eyes, watching for any unease, but the look she gave me brimmed with naked trust. It stole something from me because women didn’t look at me that way. They didn’t come to my room because I was dependable, unless they were considering the guarantee of a hard fuck.

  Katrina believed in something different, and I had no fucking idea what that was.

  Her skirt dropped to the floor, and I tapped her foot with mine, indicating she should step out of it. I sank to my knees, taking my hands over her hips and sliding them down her soft thighs. I undid the ties on her sandals, lifting each foot and slipping off her shoes. Her toenails were painted, and I got a kick out of the idea that maybe she’d done that especially for me.

  I shoved that idea away. Attributing all this meaning to every gesture she made was so far away from anything I’d considered with a woman that it might as well take up residence in a foreign country.

  Barefoot, no skirt, her hands in two tight fists against the wall. They’d be in my hair soon. I kissed the inside of her knees, making them buckle. She was sensitive, and that pleased me to no end. I could smell her, that unique scent of musk and desire. I continued up her thighs, the flesh milky and generous. As I neared the top, I sucked, then sank my teeth in, enough to draw a gasp, enough to make her legs stiffen, and for her mind to surely wonder what I’d do next. A little anxiety would amp her up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Kissing you, Poppins.”

  “That’s not my mouth.”

  Her voice was dreamy. I slid her panties down, listening for her protest. I wanted to keep it slow, make it good for her.

  “Give me your leg,” I said, running my hand up her calf and tickling behind her knee. The protest finally came when I drew it over my shoulder.

  “I don’t know...I think—”

  “It’s legal, Kit-Kat. You’ll love it.”

  “I’ve never done this.”

  “You’re a virgin?” I swear my cock tripled in size at that idea.

  “No, not really.”

  Not really?

  “It’s just that nobody’s, you know...I’ve never done oral sex.”

  The last few words were delivered with the speed of gunfire, as if she had to shoot them out before they choked her with embarrassment.

  “Your boyfriend never licked your pussy?” I continued, stroking the back of her thigh.

  “He said he didn’t like it.” She shrugged.

  “Fuck me, Poppins. I think I’ve said it before, but you need better friends. For the record, I love licking pussy. It’s fucking essential for your wellbeing. I believe the Surgeon General decreed that pussies needed to be worshiped with tongue at least once a day.”

  A little giggle escaped her. “Stop it
.”

  “I will, maybe, after you come.”

  Not a hair out of place on her neatly trimmed pussy. For me? Definitely. Her lips were already plump, excited and ready. I parted them, revealing the prize, all pink, glistening with arousal. This was mine, not some jerk’s who thought getting down and eating out his girlfriend was unnecessary. I just couldn’t get my head around that. I’d never once considered who’d had dibs on a pussy before me, but that guy needed his ass kicked. Since his stupid remark, Katrina had probably gone around thinking her pussy was what, dirty? Unclean? Fuck that. I’d show her how beautiful it was.

  I slid a finger along her slit and followed it with a gentle lick. “Make as much noise as you want, Poppins, just don’t move off that wall.” I took my time, licking, mouthing, finding the places that made her sink against me. With a hand on her hip, I pinned her against the wall and worked over that pussy until the juices were soaking her inner thighs. Her clit was a fat pearl, a jewel within the folds, and I took it into my mouth, sucking and keeping the pressure on while her hands fisted in my hair.

  No stopping now.

  I slid a finger inside her, and hell, she was tight. I worked it in and out, one, then two, curling, finding that special place that had her bucking her hips and moaning.

  I pulled back, needing to see her face. “All right here?” I kept stroking the front wall of her pussy.

  “Oh, God, what are you doing to me?” She was panting, the grip in my hair trying to guide my mouth back to her.

  “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever eaten. Let’s keep that our secret, or everyone will want some. This, Poppins,” —I thrust my fingers deep inside her before going back to stroking— “this pussy is mine.”

  I teased her clit, flicking it with my tongue. She pulled me closer, but I kept teasing, wanting her to beg.

  “Stone, please.”

  That was a start. She used everything to pull me to her, hands in my hair and her leg, which had rested cautiously over my shoulder, now trying to hook around my neck and trap me.

 

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