Seducing Steve

by Maggie Wells

  He grabbed the remote from her lap and killed the power on the television without a glance.

  “Why me?” she asked.

  The breathless whisper of her voice made a lump rise in his throat. Words gathered like pebbles, piling up against the knot of fear that kept him silent. He swallowed them, attempting to force the lump down too.

  “Looked in a mirror lately, Sugar?”

  “Sugar? I thought I was darlin’.”

  “Right now, you’re annoying as all hell,” he grumbled.

  “I’m only trying to get you to talk to me. We haven’t talked much lately.”

  He gaped at her, the injustice of her accusation setting alarm bells ringing in his head. “I’ve been here every night this week!”

  “And we haven’t been talking.”

  “What? Is that my fault?”

  “No, I’m just saying that conversation hasn’t been high on the list of things to do.”

  He ran his hand through his hair then pushed off of the couch. “We haven’t been together long enough to be having this fight.”

  Sara pounced. “Together? Are we together?”

  The scoff in her voice cut him to the quick. He gaped at her. His brain sent the order to shut his mouth, but he was pretty damn sure his yap was still hanging wide open. Neurons fired, his fingers clenched into a fist, and he snapped his jaw shut. Sara stared up at him, her gaze clear, direct, and breathtakingly cool.

  A white-hot flash of purely irrational jealousy rushed through him, but when he spoke, his tone was icy. “Maybe we’re not. Maybe I’m not the only muse you have.”

  “Well, Sharon Stone hasn’t been around, if that’s what you’re wondering…”

  Her flip answer set his teeth on edge. “Exactly how many guys are participating in your little focus group?”

  “Not funny,” she snarled.

  “No, it’s not, considering we haven’t exactly been investing in latex!”

  She launched herself from the sofa. “Fuck you!”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, you have, darlin’,” he drawled. “Every night this week.”

  “Not tonight,” she shot back.

  He closed the distance between them in one long stride. “You workin’ the others in during the day?”

  The crack of her palm hitting his cheek jolted them both back to their senses. Sara stared down at her open hand, blinking in bewilderment at the deep pink staining her skin.

  Steve rubbed his fingers over his stubbled jaw and spit out the only words that came to mind. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve never hit anyone before. Not even Adam,” she murmured, her attention absorbed by the reddened palm of her hand. “I didn’t like him as much as I like you.” Sara raised her head, a thin sheen of tears filming her eyes as she met his gaze.

  Steve cringed. Blue flames of defiance blazed in her eyes. “Sara, I—”

  “There’s no one else.”

  “I know that.”

  Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “You do? How do you know? I could be—”

  “I know you.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair once again. “I do, and I’m sorry. I was a million miles out of line.”

  “Not every day your best friend calls you a whore,” she mumbled. Steve hung his head. “Of course, you didn’t say I was getting paid for it, so I guess that makes me a slut, not a whore.”

  Steve closed his eyes, letting the air seep from his lungs and pushing it out through his nose. “What are we doing here?” His voice cracked, but at that moment he was beyond caring.

  He opened his eyes to find Sara staring at him, her eyes wide. “We’re, uh...”

  When she trailed off, he shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t know, either.”

  “Steve.”

  “I should go home.”

  “But... No! Don’t go! Don’t go, it’s just a...This is stupid,” she said. Sara’s hands splayed. Her tone was imploring, but her eyes were wary.

  “Maybe we’ve spent too much time together.”

  “I like spending time with you.” She took a hasty step forward then drew up just short of touching him. “That’s my point. We’ve been spending a lot of time together, but it’s not the same kind of time we used to spend.”

  Her blunt assessment made him chuckle. Steve ran his palm over the back of his neck, his fingers kneading the tense muscles there. “Here I was feeling pretty good about not having to fight the urge to stick my tongue down your throat.”

  Her laugh came sharp and brittle. “Oh, so you think you can stick your tongue down my throat whenever you want?”

  He worked his smile into a leer. “Yes, ma’am.”

  A shaft of pain lanced his heart. Drawing a deep breath he let his head fall forward. He pressed his lips together and gave voice to his deepest fear. “That’s the thing…It can’t be the same, Sara.”

  “Why not? I mean, we’re still friends, right? I care about you, you care about me…Why can’t we just have this little bit more?”

  “It complicates things.”

  Sara turned away, her jaw tensing as she glared at the television screen. “It doesn’t have to complicate things,” she whispered at last. When she faced him again, her aqua eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I promise I won’t let anything screw this up. Not even a good screw,” she added with a watery laugh. “You’re too important to me. I need you to be my friend.”

  Friend. He swallowed the word, forcing it down like a spoonful of bitter medicine. For eight years he had been her friend. Now, after nearly a decade of dreaming of Sara, he was also her lover and Steve wasn’t sure it could be enough. She wanted a friend and a lover, but he needed so much more. More than she may be able to give him. Ignoring the hopeful gleam in her eyes, he ducked behind the last shred of his pride. “I should go home. I haven’t really been home in days.”

  “Just ‘til the end of the movie?”

  He bit the inside of his cheek, knowing damn well how the rest of the evening would go. They’d settle back on the sofa, and she would shift a little closer to him. He’d smell her perfume, kiss her lips… His tongue would slide against hers, and the next thing he knew, he’d be slipping inside her. It would happen, and he’d never be able to resist. He didn’t want to resist.

  Sara dropped onto the couch and curled her legs under her. The ends of her hair clung to the cushions, and the faded pink t-shirt she wore molded to her curves. She wet her lips and reached for the popcorn bowl, cradling it in her lap again before looking up at him expectantly.

  The strength to resist escaped him. His feet carried him back to the couch. She leaned in to kiss him, and his senses reeled when he tasted the traces of salt, butter, and too easily won forgiveness on her lips.

  “I don’t want you to go,” she whispered, drawing away.

  Steve licked his lips and cleared his throat. Draping his arm over her shoulders, he pulled her close. “Where’s the remote?”

  “I think you’re sitting on it.”

  He grunted, loosened his hold on her, and shifted to free the controller from under his ass. Sara took it from him, and the television sprang to life once more. She smiled, nuzzling into the crook of his neck when his arm tightened again. Her breathy laugh skittered across his skin.

  “How about that? Something nice and hard, pressing against your ass—did you like that? Did it feel good?” she teased.

  “Hush up.”

  “Did it turn you on?”

  Steve kissed her hard, effectively cutting off her line of questioning. “No. You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried, darlin’,” he drawled. “Want me to show you what turns me on?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Steve plucked the remote from her hand, switched off the television, and tossed it onto the coffee table. When he offered his hand, Sara stared at it blankly. “What?”

  He waggled his fingers. “Come on.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m going to show you
.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Now?”

  “Well, you keep asking.”

  The impatience in his tone seemed just enough to snap her from her daze. Sara slipped her hand into his and he pulled her from the sofa. Steve covered the distance to her bedroom with long, easy strides, determined to prove his point once and for all.

  He stopped next to the bed and promptly stripped off his sweater. Her lips twitched, a smile of surprise and appreciation threatening to smother the curious skepticism in her eyes. Capturing her hand, he pressed her palm to his chest, holding it there until her fingers fanned across his skin. When he reached for her free hand she gave it willingly.

  “You wanna know what turns me on?” he asked in a deep, dangerous rasp. Steve pressed her other hand to the bulge beneath his fly.

  “Yes.”

  Her breathless whisper shot straight to his groin. “Say my name, Sara.”

  “Steve.”

  Steve closed his eyes as his heart fluttered. He envisioned the battered organ bouncing off his ribcage in a frantic flurry of bat wings. “Did you feel that?” Without waiting for her answer, he peeled her hand from his chest and raised it to his lips. “I wasn’t lyin’. It’s you, Sara.”

  The words whispered across her palm and tickled his cheek. He thrust his hips, arching into her eager grasp. “I fantasize about you.” The words came slow and slurred, as thick on his tongue as molasses. “I think about you touching me.” Her fingers curved over the ridge of denim and his head fell back as he groaned. “I’ve jerked off dreamin’ about being in your mouth.”

  “You do?”

  He forced himself to meet her gaze. “More times than I can count.”

  “Me,” she whispered in an awed tone.

  “You, Sara.” Brushing her hand away, he freed the top button on his jeans. The rest followed in a series of pops punctuated with a sigh. “You are my kink.”

  She snickered and pushed her hands into the loosened waistband, cupping his ass. “I’m kink?”

  “I’ve got a fetish for you,” he said, staring straight into those blue-green eyes. “I’ll do anything you want, anytime, anywhere.”

  Sara smiled and worked the jeans down over his hips. “Don’t tease me.”

  He held her gaze steadily. He lowered his hands to his sides, curling his fingers loosely into his palms “Turn me on, Sara. Touch me... Tease me until I can’t take it anymore.”

  One fair eyebrow rose and she fixed him with a stare that left him nearly undone. “Then what happens?”

  A blush warmed his cheeks and a sly chuckle rumbled from his chest. He shook his head holding palms up as if the answer was obvious. “Well, then, Miss Sara, that’s when I give you what you want.”

  Chapter Nine

  Laughter tangled in lust. Despite the thousands of words she’d put on paper, the tales of desperate desire she spun day-in and day-out, and the passionate passages that made her a bestseller, there was no way she could have conjured the incredible power of lust tangled up in laughter. Making love with Steve was unlike anything Sara had ever experienced.

  He never failed to surprise her. After their heated discussion and his abrupt insistence on adjourning to the bedroom, she expected some posturing on his part. Sara wouldn’t have been opposed to a little Alpha-male assertion of power. Hell, the sheer anticipation of it dampened her panties before he’d popped the top button on his jeans. But then he went rogue on her. He stood there, mostly naked with his hands fisted at his sides, giving her free reign over his body, and somehow his capitulation cemented his control over her.

  A rush of feminine power soaked her lacy thong. The rough string bisecting her ass rasped tender skin, adding fuel to the fire as she knelt in front of him and stripped the denim from his long legs. His skin glowed creamy ivory in the light from the hall. Her every breath stirred the burnished copper curls at the base of his cock. She stared up at him—so long, so lean, so beautifully bare, and so blatantly aroused. His gaze locked with hers. He wasn’t evading her questions. He hadn’t lied. Steve stood still, waiting, watching, wanting her to turn him on.

  Sitting back on her heels, Sara dragged her shirt over her head. Maintaining eye contact, she tossed it aside before starting in on her bra, jeans, and the utterly superfluous thong. Within moments, she knelt at his feet with her hands resting lightly on her thighs, holding his stare unflinchingly. His chest rose and fell with each breath. A ripple of satisfaction trickled down her spine when he jerked his chin, silently prompting her to rise.

  She refused to touch him. Instead, she coiled her fingers into fists as she rose to her feet. She didn’t kiss him, though her mouth watered for the taste of him. Keeping her spine straight, Sara stood toe to toe with the man she’d wanted for far too long without reaching for him.

  The unspoken battle of wills resonated deep inside of her, an echo of years of memories. She bit her lip, searching the depths of his eyes for a flicker of recognition. The corners of his mouth twisted into a rueful smile, and the dam burst. Sara laughed and threw her arms around his neck.

  “I used to be so much better at that,” she confessed, lacing her fingers at the nape of his neck. She pulled him down, swaying into him as her lips brushed his. Glancing up from under her lashes, her mouth hovered millimeters from his. “I used to kick ass at pretending I didn’t want you.”

  “Sara,” he breathed.

  She caught her name as it whispered from his lips, holding it fast on her tongue while she angled her head, deepening the kiss so she could give it back to him. Her hands were everywhere, testing the flames of his auburn hair, mapping the contours of his chest, memorizing the curvature of his ass. Cupping the firm muscle in both hands, she pressed his swollen cock into the curve of her belly as she backed toward the bed.

  “I wanted you so much,” she murmured, trailing kisses along his jaw. “I wanted you when I wasn’t supposed to want you.”

  Steve sucked in a sharp breath, stumbling slightly when she released her hold on his ass. Sara planted her hand on his chest and gave a not-so-gentle shove, urging him onto the mattress. He plucked at the quilt as she ran her fingertips through the wiry copper hair between his pecs. His hands closed into fists twisting the worn cotton patches into his palms while she stroked the downy trail of ginger that led to his cock. She traced the length of his dick with one fingertip, smiling as his hips rose to meet the caress. Her smile widened as she climbed onto the bed, bracketing his knees with hers.

  She kept her eyes locked on his face and lowered her head. Her hair cascaded over her shoulder, fanning his thigh. Steve flinched, the muscle in his jaw ticking off the seconds before he drew a ragged breath.

  “Am I turning you on?” she asked, letting her breath wash over his swollen flesh.

  “Everything about you turns me on.”

  His answer earned him a quick swirl of her tongue. Steve groaned when she pulled back, and she soothed him with a soft kiss to the velvet tip. His skin was hot and smooth and his taste lingered on her lips, teasing her as well. She chanced a quick glance at his face, only to find him staring back at her impassively. Apparently, the bastard hadn’t lost his ability to fake it.

  Piqued, Sara ratcheted up her determination. She leaned back and pressed her nose to his balls, inhaling deeply. His thighs tensed. His fingers scratched restlessly against the quilt. The low ebb of a groan hummed in the back of his throat. She drew the sac into her mouth, sucked gently, and the sound broke free. Gratified, she nuzzled him again then teased the base of his cock with the tip of her tongue as she wound her hair around the shaft.

  “Let me know when you’ve had enough,” she whispered.

  “Never.”

  The raw honesty in his breathless answer unraveled her frayed nerves. Desperate to hold herself together, she lifted her head, stared straight into his eyes, and raised a challenging eyebrow. “Never? You don’t think I can break you?”

  He wet his lips, unable to hold back his smile. “Sara, darlin’, I know
you can, but it still won’t be enough. I’m just waitin’ for you to show me you know you can too.”

  Spurred by his taunt she clamped his wrists, pinning his hands to the bed as she parted her lips and took him in her mouth. His low moan rippled over her skin. She took him fast and hot, swallowing his pants and grunts. She watched his face, waiting for him to crack, pulling him deeper with each stroke of her tongue. A shadow of a smile flitted at his lips. Her brow furrowed as she sucked harder.

  “God, yes,” Steve murmured. His hips thrust rhythmically. “Oh yeah... Sweet Sara... I could fuck your mouth all night.”

  His words shot straight to her core. Heat coiled low in her belly. This was not the response she expected from him. Sara released him with a pop, fixing him with a glare. He simply smiled in response.

  “No more?”

  She pried his hands from the mattress, lifting them up over his head as she scrambled to straddle his hips. “Cocky bastard.”

  The head of his cock brushed the damp folds of her pussy and his abs contracted. “That’s right, punish me,” he whispered.

  Sara kept going, pivoting on one knee and slinging her leg over his head. “I’m going to wipe that smug smile off your face,” she whispered, lowering her mouth to his crotch and her pussy to his face.

  Her lips closed around his cock, but the fatal flaw in her plan to break him became apparent the moment he began to press ardent kisses to her slick cunt. His teeth grazed her thigh. She could feel the curve of his mouth as he nuzzled her damp curls.

  “You let me lick you ‘til you come, Sweet Sara, and I’ll be grinnin’ for a week,” he murmured, lapping playfully at her folds.

  He circled her clit, drawing gently then flicking the sensitive bundle with his tongue. Good lord. Lips, tongue...even teeth glided over the tender skin adding an irresistible hint of danger. He cupped her ass, spreading the cheeks wide as his fingers traced the crevice to her pussy. She circled her hips in response to the long finger he slid into her and moaned around him when he added a second. He rocked, thrusting deeper into her eager mouth with each stroke and sliding one damp finger from her pussy to circle the tight pucker of her anus.