Experiencing the textures of his body, combined with his exploration of mine, made me breathless. He cupped my breasts through my flimsy bra, teasing the budded nipples. I don’t have a model body, but my breasts are my one asset. Did he remember how much I loved him touching them?
Yes, I decided when he unhooked my bra and dropped to his knees to kiss and lick each pink peak thoroughly, dragging his teeth across the sensitive skin, sending instant moisture to wet my thin panties. I cried out, my hands kneading his neck, my knees buckling. I fell forward and he picked me up, then carried me to one of the beds, settling me on the edge and rolling my panties down the length of my legs.
He spread my knees and knelt to rain kisses up my inner thighs, moving back and forth, nipping at my skin. I leaned back on my elbows because in addition to the unbelievable sparkles of pleasure of having his mouth on me, in addition to the almost unbearable anticipation of having his tongue inside me, I took great pleasure in watching Redford enjoy the act of making love to me with his mouth. When he reached the culmination of his journey, his warm tongue flicked against my wet folds and our moans melded. Seeing his dark head between my thighs was incredibly erotic.
When he plunged his tongue inside me, my body jerked in response to the icy fire racing through my muscles. After teasing me mercilessly, he found my sensual switch and worked it with his tongue until I clenched my fists in the bedspread, murmuring his name, begging for release. He moaned against my clit to escalate the vibrations, launching me to an orgasm so powerful, that even in the throes of the intense spasms, the possibility of a health implication crossed my mind—a burst vein, a permanent muscle contraction, a heart attack.
But happily, I lived to reach for his waistband and unzip his jeans, feeling another surge of desire when I freed his enormous erection. He groaned, then sucked in a sharp breath when I pushed down his soft cotton boxers to cradle his sex in my hands.
I had hinted—okay, bragged—to my friends at Redford’s massive size. I had dreamed of his nude body countless times, had conjured up his image for dozens of erotic sessions alone and—I’m not proud to admit—when in bed with other men. But when I saw and felt his rigid, straining shaft, I was awed all over again…thick and long, with an enormous tip, already shiny with pre-come. I dipped my head for a taste, but Redford stopped me with a groan.
“Don’t think I don’t want you to,” he gasped. “But I’m so hot for you right now, I won’t last two seconds. And I want to be inside you…the first time.”
A pang of longing struck me low and hard. I nodded my agreement, then almost panicked. “Do you have protection?”
He grinned sheepishly. “At the risk of seeming presumptuous, I came prepared.”
At the moment, I didn’t care about his motivation for bringing condoms, I was just weak with relief that he’d brought them. He retrieved one from his wallet, then handed it to me. With him standing in front of me seated on the edge of the bed, I rolled it on carefully, conscious of his size and our safety. Then reached down to caress his velvety sack and the sensitive ridge beneath—things I’d never done to any other man. He clenched my shoulders in a long moan, then urged me back on the bed. He followed me, stretching out on top of me, bracing himself with his arms. The sensation of full-body contact with him almost overwhelmed me—and I knew there was so much more to come.
He kissed me hard, slanting his mouth over mine, delving his tongue deep, sharing my essence with me. He captured my hands, entwining our fingers, and pinned them to the bed over my head. Our bodies were slick with perspiration, and the musk of his maleness only fueled my desire. “Now, Redford…now.”
He shifted his hips, easing his erection between my thighs. His jaw was clenched with restraint as he found my entrance and pushed in slowly, one breathtaking inch at a time, until he was fully sheathed in my body. It was an amazing feeling, to be so filled, for every centimeter of my slick channel to be stimulated at once. I squeezed his fingers between mine and contracted my inner muscles around him.
“Oh, Denise,” he groaned. “Oh, God, that feels…soooo…good.”
He flexed his hips, making tiny thrusts that prodded an untapped spot deep inside me. Almost immediately, the waves of a powerful orgasm began to build, radiating from my womb. I flailed as the tension in my body mounted. His thrusts intensified—longer, deeper, faster. Our moans mingled as the sensations ratcheted higher. I climaxed in a sudden explosion of color and light, and sank my teeth into his shoulder to stifle my cries. His shuddering release came a split second after mine, his face contorted in pleasure-pain, my name on his lips.
Our “little death” coincided exactly with the death of the twin bed. One lower corner fell to the floor, giving us a good bounce on the box springs, then the post fell over with a thud.
We collapsed into each other laughing, our skin flushed and hot to the touch and wet with exertion. “Looks like we’ll be sleeping in the other bed,” he muttered.
Then he rolled me over on top of him and exhaled noisily. “That,” he murmured, “was amazing.”
I sighed against his chest, feeling languid and blissful, my body still pulsing from the pleasure he’d given me. “I have a confession to make.”
He tensed. “What?”
“I almost got off while I was riding that horse today.”
Two seconds of dead silence was split open by his howl of laughter.
I swatted at his chest. “It’s not that funny.”
“Yes, it is,” he said, whooping. “No wonder you wanted to get down from there so fast.”
“It’s your fault.”
“How?”
“You goaded me into riding that beast.”
He emitted a low growl. “If I’d known what was going on up there, I would’ve made old Reggie gallop.”
“Gee, thanks for not making me feel like an idiot.”
He laughed. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’ve heard of it happening before.”
“You have?”
“Well, only with extraordinarily horny women.”
“Oh, you!” I pushed up to move away, but he captured my wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To take a shower.”
“Not without me, you’re not.”
Warmth filtered through my chest as he pushed to his feet and pulled me into the bathroom. He closed the door and pinned me against the door. “But first, I have to do something that I’ve been dying to do since I got here.”
Full of female pride, I grinned. “I thought we just did that.”
He laughed. “Yes, but there’s one more thing.”
He reached behind my neck and gently, ever so gently, he released my hair from its clasp and pushed his hands into it, pulling it forward around my shoulders. “Beautiful,” he breathed.
I couldn’t speak. The feelings welling up in my chest…I didn’t even want to think about what they might mean.
He kissed me lightly. “You like the water hot, don’t you?”
I nodded, inordinately pleased he remembered.
While he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature, I leaned against the vanity, enjoying the view of his lean backside and powerful hamstrings. And the treasure on the other side…sigh. Lust pumped through my body with such force that I pressed a fist to my mouth to regain control. This man brought out the worst in me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of my engagement ring on the vanity where I’d left it. With much effort, I pushed down the spike of guilt, and when Redford turned around, I reached out and flipped off the light.
A few seconds later his chuckle reverberated in the tiled room. “It’s a little late for shyness, don’t you think, Denise?”
Seizing a deliciously wicked opportunity, I pushed off the vanity, felt my way over to him and pressed my breasts into his warm back. “I thought we could take a shower in the dark.”
He gave a low laugh of compliance and we climbed under the spray together.
When one sense is taken away, the other senses truly do become more keen. With the door closed, the windowless room was completely dark, and suddenly, I could feel the smooth surface of the tub beneath my feet, the softness of the country water splashing over my face, the callused tips of Redford’s hands caressing my bottom.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and flicked my tongue over his nipples, reveling in the saltiness of his skin. I felt around the wall until I found a soft loofah and what felt like a new bar of soap. I lathered the loofah and scrubbed Redford’s back in large, massaging circles, applying as much pressure as I could.
“Ooh, that’s great,” he moaned.
The acoustics in our little cocoon were wonderful, magnifying our noises. Methodically, I worked the loofah over his shoulders and down his arms, then down to his lower back and hips. I turned him around slowly and massaged the lather onto his chest, ignoring for the time being his erection prodding my stomach. He submitted to my ministrations, murmuring approval as I moved across his stomach and hip bones, then moved down to his thighs. I knelt to better feel my way down the fronts of his legs, then handed him the loofah and the soap. Still kneeling, I gently washed his cock with my hands, massaging and stroking him clean. Then I took the velvety tip into my mouth, eliciting a gasp from Redford. The water spilled over my hair and face as I pleasured him with my mouth, taking in as much of his length as I could accommodate, stroking the base of him with my fingers.
With a guttural groan, Redford stopped me, lifted me to my feet and whispered, “Your turn.” He moved behind me and began to massage my neck and shoulders. I sighed in appreciation, planting my hands against the shower wall, allowing the spray to wash over my face. While he moved the loofah over my back, he slid his hand around to massage my breasts. It was ecstasy, feeling so many sensations and textures at once—and knowing that with Redford, the best was yet to come.
He worked the loofah down my back and over my hips, while sliding his other hand down my stomach and into the curls between my thighs. “Mmm, ohhh, yesssss.”
“You like?” he whispered.
“Umm-hmm.”
He slipped a finger inside me from behind. “You like?” he whispered.
“Ummm-hmmm.” I contracted around him, and he pressed forward. The man knew how to push my button, from both sides. I could feel another orgasm coming on and gave in to it, brought to higher heights with every stroke at his urging in my ear. When one wave subsided, another crashed through my body, vibrating me down to my bones. At last, when I was too weak to stand, Redford supported me with one hand and turned off the shower with the other.
Unfortunately, I slipped and threw him off balance, too. I could feel us going down and grabbed for the shower curtain, which came crashing down with us, but helped to break our fall.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” I moaned. “You?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
I started giggling. “So much for showering in the dark.”
We both laughed until we were limp, then wrapped towels around ourselves and went back to the other room, where we rubbed each other down.
Of course, the rubbing led to other touching, and the touching lead to kissing, and the kissing led to us concluding that both the crippled bed and the other twin bed were simply too small.
“We can push them together,” I suggested, and Redford agreed. But when they were about two feet apart, his eyes lit up.
“What?” I asked.
He moved to stand between the beds, then urged me up, to straddle the beds—to straddle him. I grinned, then looped my arms around his neck and whispered naughty things in his ear until his erection was so stiff, I could have impaled myself on him. Instead, I leveraged myself on the two beds and lowered myself on him bit by thrilling bit as he nuzzled my breasts.
The position was mind-blowing, matching up our boy and girl parts perfectly, allowing Redford to reach my highest secret places, and providing enough frontal friction that another orgasm for me was only a matter of time. Our hands were free to roam, and best of all: we could look into each other’s eyes.
Redford had the sexiest eyes—endlessly deep and expressive. I could tell every time he reached a new pleasure plateau. When my body began to tremble with the onset of a powerful climax, he curled his hand around the nape of my neck and brought my face up to his.
“I want to see you come,” he said. “I want to see your face, see how I make you feel.”
His words sent me soaring over the edge, my already sensitized erogenous zones screaming with release. I clung to him while spasms racked my body. He uttered a long, quaking groan and picked me up, climaxing with my arms and legs wrapped around him like a vise. It was a religious experience.
When our bodies quieted, we found that we had somehow traveled several feet away from the bed. He looked for a place to lower me, and we almost made it to the couch. My dismount was wobbly and I hooked a floor lamp on my way down, sending it crashing to the floor, crushing the shade and shattering the bulb.
We were trashing Kenzie and Sam’s place…but I knew if anyone would understand, they would.
We decided to sleep where we fell, on the couch. My body was fatigued beyond words, but my mind wouldn’t shut down so easily. I lay with my head on Redford’s chest and listened as his heart quieted, then fell into a steady sleep rhythm. Slowly, like a leaky dyke, my troubles seeped through the sex-haze I had immersed myself in for the past couple of hours, until I was saturated in shame.
What had I done? Had sex with a man I had no intention of having a relationship with—and every indication that he felt the same. Hadn’t he thanked me for filing the annulment papers? For the second time, we had been brought together on a whim, enjoyed each other’s bodies and would separate.
Except he would go back to the life he’d planned for himself without breaking stride, while the life that I’d planned for myself—with Barry—had been compromised. What was I thinking? I had a ring. And I had a wedding dress, assuming Cindy managed to outbid SYLVIESMOM. Barry was in L.A., slaving away to build his career, to make a better life for both of us, and I was…here.
Naked with the man I’d married, then annulled myself from. Naked with my biggest mistake. Again.
A shiver passed over my body, the chill in the room seeking out the moist, naughty parts of me that still sang from Redford’s touch. Unable to lie still any longer, I eased off the couch to make my way toward the bathroom. A few steps later, something sliced into the bottom of my foot, sending fire shooting up my leg. I cried out, and Redford was awake and on his feet before I could take another step.
“What happened?” he said, alarm in his voice.
I limped toward the bathroom. “I stepped on glass from the lightbulb…be careful.”
He skirted the broken glass and followed me. “Let me take a look at it.”
“No, that’s okay,” I said, fighting back tears…as much for the pain radiating in my foot as for the situation I’d landed myself in. “Just clean up the glass.”
In the bathroom, I swept aside the torn shower curtain and broken rod and lowered myself to the edge of the tub. The amount of blood staining the white tile floor was distressing, but when I stuck my foot under cold running water, I was relieved to discover it was actually a small wound. Still, my eyes overflowed and I was shaking. My engagement ring glittered from the vanity. I reached over and picked it up, then slid it onto my finger, my tears coming in earnest now.
“Are you okay?” Redford said from the doorway.
I looked up, then hastily brushed at my cheeks and nodded. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” I pulled the shower curtain over me—it was much too late for modestly, but still.
“Let me take a look,” he said gently. “To make sure the glass is out.”
I yielded, lifting my foot and swiveling. He cradled my foot in his big hand, then pinched open the cut. I flinched.
“Sorry,” he said, then patted my
foot. “But it looks clean. Let me see if I can find a bandage. I’m sure Sam has plenty of supplies around.” He rummaged in the vanity, then removed a bottle of peroxide and a box of adhesive bandages.
I was still while he dressed the wound, my throat and chest tight. He occasionally glanced to my left hand, at the ring, but he didn’t say anything.
“Does it hurt?” he asked finally.
I wiped at more tears, but shook my head. I couldn’t tell him why I was crying. I wasn’t even sure myself.
He made a rueful noise. “It will in the morning.”
I swallowed in resignation.
I was pretty sure that everything would be hurting in the morning.
17
KENZIE OPENED the back door when I knocked the next morning. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” I said with as much nonchalance as I could muster considering every muscle in my body screamed with pain.
Her smile was questioning, but she simply sipped from her coffee cup while I followed her into the kitchen.
“You’re limping,” she said, pointing.
I stacked the unused clothes that Sam had loaned us on the table and lowered myself onto a bar stool. “Um, we had a little accident last night.”
“We?” she asked.
I squirmed. “I hope the furnishings in the apartment weren’t family heirlooms.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you set a fire, too?”
“No, thank God. But one of the beds is broken, the shower curtain is torn and the curtain rod snapped…and the floor lamp is history. Oh, and there are a few, um, bloodstains on the carpet.”
She frowned. “What?” Then she gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry about the furniture, it’s all secondhand. But what on earth did you two do over there?”
My face flamed. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
She handed me a mug of coffee and smirked. “Is he as big as you remember?”
I took a deep drink. “Yes.”
She gasped, her eyes dancing, until she spotted my engagement ring. “You’re still wearing your ring?”
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