by C. J. Thomas
We made it as far as the stairs before I fell to my knees, taking her with me. I couldn’t make it. I needed her immediately. It was all-consuming, the sweeping desire.
I’d never lost control like that before.
She laughed, throwing her head back. I took advantage, my mouth finding her throat. I licked her smooth skin, turning her laughter into moans. She begged for more, writhing under me. I drove myself against her until it hurt while her hands tangled in my hair and the sound of her moaning my name left me nearly ready to come.
I fumbled with my belt while she followed my lead by unbuttoning her jeans. I pulled hers down once mine were at my knees. She nearly tore off her shirt and I buried my face between her tits before yanking her panties aside to bury myself in her.
She cried out at the first thrust, gripping my ass with both hands. I realized she was pulling me in, yanking me toward her. I took the hint, picking up the pace until I pummeled her with deep, hard thrusts.
She was tight, hot, so wet. And eager, which was almost better than the other three combined. My hips circled the bases and slid into home, again and again.
How long had I waited for an eager, responsive lover like her? Too long to mention. Everything about her was perfect. I closed my eyes and thrusted forward again.
Julia braced her feet against the steps, providing greater resistance as I pumped in and out. I groaned, trying to hold back.
“Don’t wait,” she groaned. “I wanna see you come. Please, baby.” She met me thrust for thrust.
Her words were too much to handle. I felt the familiar pressure, the tightening, then the almost blinding pleasure of release.
“Oh, Julia! God!” I roared, throwing my head back. Her hands still dug into my flesh, and when I finished, she laid a solid spank against one cheek. I laughed in surprise.
“That was nice,” she breathed, kissing my neck as I fought to control my breathing again.
“I don’t see how. I came so fast.” It was sort of embarrassing, even though she was the one to tell me to do it.
“Right.” She kissed me again, nibbling me this time. “But you’re still rock solid.”
My cock twitched inside her.
“And next time, you’ll take longer.” She nipped my bottom lip.
I pulled back to look at her, eyes wide. She only smiled, then winked.
“You’re an evil genius,” I murmured, kissing her soft, full lips.
She sighed sweetly, then pulled me closer, nearly consuming me. She was needy, desperate, passionate. On fire.
I was the only man who could put that fire out. I felt myself rising to the challenge and almost cried out in surprise at my quick recovery.
“Upstairs, cowboy,” she whispered, sliding out from beneath me before running up the stairs, laughing the whole way.
So that was the game she wanted to play, was it? I would show her who was in charge.
She left a trail of clothes behind her as she ran down the hall, and by the time I reached the bedroom she was climbing into bed like a cat. Gracefully, seductively, and with her claws out.
She didn’t need to seduce me—I was all hers, and almost ready to go again. The effect didn’t go unappreciated.
I had to reassert control. I knew she loved it when I controlled her the first time we made love and wanted to give her that thrill again.
“Lie on your back,” I ordered, stripping off my shirt, followed by my shorts.
She raised an eyebrow, more intrigued than surprised, then did as I asked.
“Touch yourself for me,” I growled. “You wanted to see me? I wanna see you.”
She closed her eyes, gliding her hands over her body without saying a word. She liked to be told what to do, I could tell. I twitched and throbbed at the thought of the possibilities as I watched her hands move up and cup each of her breasts.
I watched as she played with her tits, rubbing them, squeezing them together. She flicked the nipples with her thumbs—fast, then faster. I took note of how she liked it.
“Mmm . . .” she moaned, rolling her head from side to side.
“You like that?” I muttered, stroking myself, watching her.
“Yes.”
“Keep going. Lower.” She groaned, hands doing as I asked. She moved over her stomach, her hips. I watched as her legs spread, and she sighed when her hands rubbed over her glistening mound. I could hardly keep myself from jumping in and doing it for her.
My cock was painfully solid.
She stroked the outer lips, then parted them to delve into her pink sweetness. I swallowed hard, my breath coming in short gasps as I watched her. When she made contact with her hard little button, her back arched as she moaned.
“Yeah,” I grunted, stroking harder. “Keep doing that. Do whatever makes you feel good.” She was a sight to see.
She whimpered, rubbing two fingers against the bundle of nerves. Faster and faster, eyes closed, hips grinding in circles. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen, and I was ready to explode all over again. I only held back for her, because I knew she needed me to.
“Oh . . . oh, Dan—”
“Keep going.” I bit my bottom lip. “Make yourself come for me, baby.” She slid two fingers inside herself and I nearly died from wanting her. It hurt, how badly I needed to sink myself where her fingers pumped in and out.
She tensed all over, her body stiffening for a second before dissolving into shudders. She smiled dreamily and I knew she was there.
“I need you,” I groaned, straining against my hand. “On your hands and knees.”
She moaned in approval, rolling over like I asked. I wasted no time lining up with her still-quivering tunnel. We both gasped when I slid home.
“Yes!” she cried out as another orgasm overtook her, or an extension of the first. Either way, she clamped around me like a vice. I waited until she relaxed, moaning and cooing softly, before pulling back to drive myself in again.
“Yes . . . Dan . . . oh, God . . .” Every thrust brought something out of her—a groan, grunt, gasp. She loved it as much as I loved giving it to her; she rode me with as much intensity as I took her with. I smacked her ass the way she’d smacked mine and she yelped in surprise and pleasure.
Then I took her by the hips, pounding her until she shrieked my name. Every sound took me higher, made me feel like a king. I was taking her, reminding her she was mine.
No one else’s.
All mine.
I realized that somewhere in the dim recesses of my mind. I wanted her to belong to nobody but me. The feeling overtook me and my body gave in to what I needed. My hips unleashed a furious round of punishing thrusts.
“Dan! Jesus, yes!” Julia nearly wept—shaking, quivering all around me, her voice hoarse from screaming.
That was it. I couldn’t take anymore. My balls tightened just before I let myself go, slamming against her in a blurred series of sharp thrusts that sent me over the edge. I roared as I had before, but with a sense of triumph.
I’d taken what I wanted.
She was mine.
“Oh, my God,” I muttered, sliding from her. I felt like a different person from the one I was just moments earlier—in control of my senses again. It was the best sex of my life, hands down.
And by the look on her face, it may have been the best of her life too.
It also left me drained, hollow, empty. My muscles were loose and I fell onto the bed like a limp noodle.
It was the best feeling I could’ve imagined. All the stresses gone. Concerns, pushed to the back of my mind, and all I could think about was how beautiful she was.
Would it always be like that, or was the heat only because we were so new together? I hoped it was the former rather than the latter, because I could easily get hooked on sex like that. I didn’t want to lose something so good.
A feeling of total satisfaction filled me as I stretched out on my back, gazing at Julia from the corner of my eye.
Not just physical satisfac
tion, either. There was an emotional component. I felt connected to her, closer than we’d ever been. I’d never felt that way with any other woman, like I didn’t need anything else in my life. She was more than enough. And I was content.
She was a heap on the bed, whimpering every so often, sighing in that certain way only a person who’s really satisfied can sigh.
I couldn’t hide a grin of pride, though she didn’t see it since her eyes were closed.
Then she turned her head, smiling at me. Something inside me fell into place with a nearly audible click.
I held out my arms. She entered them gladly, with a smile on her face. She settled in against my chest. I smelled the coconut shampoo in her hair, on top of the faint smell of perspiration. Together, it was an intoxicating scent that if she weren’t careful, would make reason to go at it again.
“Was that good for you?” she murmured, giggling throatily. I loved the way she laughed—it usually turned me on, but not when I was already satiated.
“What do you think? I must’ve sounded like a wild animal.”
“You did. I happen to like that.” Her hand grazed my torso, but instead of trailing down south, it moved north. Over my heart, just beside her head.
One of the perks of maturity was knowing your limits. And perhaps her decision to head north, was her knowing that I’d give it to her again if that’s what she wanted.
“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” My words hung heavy in the air and I wondered if I said too much. I was talking about a future I didn’t know existed. Was that an assumption? Did she have any intention of sleeping with me again when all was said and done? I didn’t know. I just went and blurted out the first thing that came to mind and it was, what it was.
I held my breath, waiting for her to respond.
“That sounds nice.” I heard a smile in her voice—not a joking smile, but a contented one. Warmth spread through me. I felt as though I actually glowed from the inside out.
What was she doing to me?
“It’s been a rough couple of days,” she whispered.
“It has. Are you all right? Do you want to talk about it?”
She hesitated, thinking it over. “No. I don’t think I need to. It’s just, sometimes, it all gets to be a little much. I think too much about it, you know? Especially when I’m falling asleep.”
“Understandable. Try not to let it bother you too much—I know it’s easier said than done, but it’s all you can do. Otherwise, you’ll drive yourself nuts. Just know that you’re in good hands.” I squeezed her for emphasis.
“Oh, you’ve proven that already, Detective.” Another throaty laugh, quiet and a little sleepy.
“You know what I mean.” I couldn’t put it into words—not that the words didn’t exist, but rather I didn’t know how to say what I felt. She was in my hands, as long as she’d allow herself to be. All I wanted was to protect her. She needed to let me do it.
“Thank you for trying to keep me safe,” she murmured sleepily. I nearly had to strain my ears to hear her, she whispered so low. I brushed her hair back, smoothing it under my hand, and kissed the top of her head.
The last thought I had before falling asleep was wondering how I’d ever manage to live without her after this.
149
Julia
WHAT WOULD it be like to lie around all morning, relishing the memory of another perfect night with Dan?
How would it feel, having nothing to do but concentrate on the way he’d made my body explode in pleasure? If I could, I would snuggle deeper into the bedding, cocooning myself beside him, grinning like a maniac. Maybe I’d even giggle a time or two.
I wouldn’t know how it felt, because I didn’t have the mental bandwidth to devote to it. It felt unfair. I deserved to do the whole “morning after a night of great sex” thing. The glowing and secret smiles and wondering if I did anything too weird or made gross noises in my sleep.
Instead, I stared at the ceiling while Dan slept peacefully beside me.
I couldn’t stop thinking.
The faces of the people involved in the puzzle swam in front of my face. Austin. Emelia. Margo. Different combinations, none of them making any sense.
I glanced over at Dan, wondering if his sleep was at all bothered by any of this. He let out a snore, as if on cue. I guessed not. He probably dreamed about much better things, things worthy of dreaming about. Sex and roller coasters and banana splits and Chinese food buffets. I realized I was much hungrier than I’d thought.
The pull of food, or the potential of it, was enough to get me out of bed. I went as quietly as possible, tiptoeing through the room, trying to avoid waking him. It was only five-thirty—the middle of the night, as far as I was concerned. Sleep was a virtual stranger. I’d napped briefly after our last session simply out of exhaustion. Once it burned off, sleep disappeared.
I padded around the kitchen, pulling together a snack of cheese, crackers, and fruit. It was still too early for coffee—I’d crash around mid-morning and be no good for the rest of the day. Guzzling water, I leaned over the prep table with a notepad and pen. I needed a serious brain dump if I hoped to ever make sense of things.
At the top of the page, I wrote the words Austin/Emelia in block letters. Beneath, I jotted down the facts.
Dated—eyewitness testimony, Austin visit. How long? Were they on the outs when she died? Austin never said.
That last bit was an important point, one which I hadn’t considered in my near-panic at the apartment. Austin could tell me he loved her all he wanted. He might even have been sincere.
Love had a way of turning at the drop of a hat. Passionate love could become passionate hate in a heartbeat. A thin line, too easily crossed.
Outting relationship = career suicide. How true is this?
He could say it until he was blue in the face, but did I believe him? I wasn’t sure. It seemed like a long way to speculate the loss of an entire career—two careers, more like. All that mattered was that they believed it. If Austin believed it enough, he could’ve gone to any lengths.
Were they in love?
That was all hearsay, too. He could say whatever he wanted with Emelia gone. He could say she loved to bark like a dog with a bone between her teeth while he took her from behind, or she loved it when he licked ketchup off her body. Any silliness. Who would refute it?
He could also say they were in love, just to suit his own version of events. He could paint himself as the grieving lover, heartbroken over the loss of the woman he would love until the day he died. How many guilty husbands and boyfriends had said the same thing?
Yikes—I sounded more like Dan all the time. Jaded as anything.
If in love, why Margo?
That was the part that left me the most confused. It made no sense for the two of them to be together if the relationship with Emelia was real. Margo’s presence added another layer of doubt to Austin’s claims of love.
I remembered the way she smiled, like a kid in love, when I asked her whether they were serious about each other. Had they been dating while Emelia was still alive? This took me back to the question of whether they were dating at the time of her death. I wished I had thought to ask—I didn’t have dates for any of the photos or files from the laptop.
Why was Margo blackmailing Emelia?
This gave me the biggest problem. I didn’t understand what reason Margo would have. Just like I didn’t want to believe Emelia would kill herself, I didn’t want to change my opinion of my longtime friend. We were never exactly close, but we were girlfriends. I thought I knew her pretty well, especially as a professional. I never heard a negative thing about her, not the way other slimy reporters made a reputation for themselves. She always struck me as being above all that. This was bigger than releasing off-the-record secrets, too.
This was nasty extortion.
I would have to talk to her about it, somehow. What to say, though? How could I approach something like that tactfully? Hey, we
re you blackmailing a world-famous actress? And why? Yeah, that would work really well.
I dropped my pen, frustrated, and held my head in my hands. I felt no closer to making sense than I was before. The entire outcome depended on people being honest with me. I wasn’t the most trusting person by nature—possibly an occupational hazard.
And to think, the cops were ready to write it off as a suicide.
It was like he heard my thoughts. I heard Dan approach from behind just before I felt his arms wrap around my waist. I must have jumped a mile.
“Sorry!” He chuckled.
“Holy hell! Do you cops learn how to be stealthy in training?” My heart raced faster than it did even when Dan was doing things to me.
“No, that’s detective training.” He pulled me to him, nuzzling my neck. I relaxed.
“What are you doing up so early?” It was barely six o’clock and I stifled a yawn.
“I’m usually up this early.” Sometimes it was a surprise to realize there was so much I didn’t know about him.
“I didn’t know anybody got up this early in the morning.” His breath on the back of my neck left me shaky and yearning for him.
“I’m full of surprises.” His lips caressed me, making me close my eyes and moan softly. Suddenly, the notes I’d been jotting down caught his eye. “What’s this?” He leaned forward to get a better look.
I shook myself, wondering how he could change gears so rapidly. I was ready to go for another round right there on the table if he felt like it. “Just a few things I needed to get out of my brain.”
“I see. You’ve been a busy girl this morning.” It was a distracted, offhand murmur. He was more focused on reading than flirting. “So you think Austin might be leading us on when he plays the heartbroken boyfriend?”
“Don’t you? I know you don’t trust him to begin with. I want to, but Margo keeps popping up. She doesn’t fit into the picture. How could he be in love with Emelia but jump ship so quickly? There must have been a break-up, or some other trouble. Did any of your reports include information on how long the relationship lasted?”