by Lori Foster
He paused long enough to reach over his own shoulder, grab a fistful of material, and jerk the shirt up and over his head. He stood again, breathing a little more heavily, and murmured, “Your turn.”
So many times she’d seen his gorgeous body in no more than boxing shorts, but never before had she been given the opportunity to touch. She reached for him, but he caught her hands, kissed each palm, and lifted them high over her head.
“Keep them right there for me.” And with that, he lifted the hem of her shirt, drawing it slowly up and over her face until he caught the material between her elbows one-handed—pinning her there, all stretched out.
Hardly fair! “Denver—”
“I’ve thought about stripping you a million times,” he murmured. “Let me have my fun.”
He’d been thinking about stripping her? Oh. Well then... “Okay.”
“Good girl.”
She frowned, but with his palm playing over her from shoulder to hip as if savoring her, she couldn’t gather her thoughts enough to protest the ridiculous endearment.
Briefly, he came in for a hot eating kiss that left her shaking before levering back so he could open the front closure on her bra.
She heard the small catch of his breath as the cups parted, showing the inner swells of her breasts, but not quite revealing both nipples.
“So fucking stacked,” he whispered roughly, lowering his head to nuzzle aside the material with his mouth.
Going perfectly still, her pulse buzzing and her vision narrowing to the crown of his overlong hair, she waited—and felt his hot breath, then the touch of his hotter tongue...
And he sucked her in.
The vibrating moan came out loud and high as she stiffened, her muscles all going taut in a rush of pleasure.
“Relax.” He kissed his way to her other breast and drew that nipple into the damp heat of his mouth. At the same time she felt his fingertips lightly tracing over the crotch of her panties.
Frantic to touch him, Cherry struggled against the restraint of her shirt.
He released her, saying, “Take it easy,” while helping to free her hands. The second she could, she leaned into him, her hands everywhere, all over him, relishing the light furring of hair on his chest, those sleek hard shoulders, the bulge of his rock-hard biceps. She trailed a hand down his abdomen, following that silky happy trail until it disappeared into his low-hanging jeans. Almost desperate, she suggested, “The bed...”
He caught her wandering hand. “I said no.” With far too much ease, he turned her suddenly so that she faced the wall. Stepping in close to her back, he nestled his erection against her bottom. “Trust me, okay?”
She felt too warm, dazed with wanting. Nodding, she whispered, “Okay.” But she honestly didn’t know how much longer she could stand there. Her legs seemed almost incapable of holding her up and she had a rushing in her ears.
With a kiss to her temple, he slipped one foot between hers, nudging her legs wider apart. When she accommodated him, he murmured, “Good girl. Just like that.”
Breathless, she said, “You are so sexist.”
“Maybe. Sorry.” His arms came around her, one hand cupping a breast, the other wedging between her thighs. “I’m too turned on to worry about it.”
He stroked and... Yeah. She didn’t want him to worry about it, either.
Unless... “Wait.”
His hands curled, holding her more firmly. And given where they were, wow. She just might faint.
“What now?” he breathed near her ear.
“You have protection?”
“A rubber.” He nibbled on her earlobe, touched his tongue inside her ear. “More in my room if we get that far.”
More if we... This time, her “Okay” ended on a squeak as he readjusted to put his hand inside her panties.
“Mmmm,” he growled, his fingers already exploring lightly, opening her, playing with her. “You need me to take care of you first, don’t you, girl?”
Be strong, Cherry told herself. Tell him you’re a woman, not a girl. Tell him...
His finger worked into her.
“Yes,” she moaned, arching back against him.
“That’s good.” He stroked into her, deliberately teasing. “You’re nice and wet, but small, too. And since I’m not so small, I need to—”
“Armie told me,” she admitted, her thoughts mostly centered on how it felt to be held to his hard frame, his strong arms around her, his fingers doing those amazingly erotic things to her.
Denver stilled. Quietly, his tone off, he said, “Armie told you what?”
“That you’re big.” She wiggled her bottom against him, both to acknowledge his size and to hopefully get him back to stroking her. She was equally excited and a little nervous.
From head to toes he went as cold and hard as granite, then in one quick move turned her to face him again.
Her shoulders touched the wall and Denver leaned into her. “Why the fuck were you discussing my dick with Armie?”
The whispered question sounded more lethal than a shout. Accompanied with that look in his eyes, she couldn’t think.
“Umm...”
He waited with throbbing impatience, not budging, not asking again.
Man, she had a big mouth. “See...Yvette and I were talking.” Mostly it was her, pretty much mooning over Denver. But he didn’t look receptive to hearing that right now, so she did her best to summarize judiciously. “You know, about how nicely ripped fighters are? And Armie overheard us.”
Denver’s glittering gaze narrowed. But she wasn’t afraid of him. Never that.
She just really wanted to get past this so they could get back to what they’d been doing before she so badly misspoke.
Clearing her throat, she offered, “You know how Armie is.”
“I do,” he agreed in an unsettling whisper. “How well do you know him?”
“Well enough that I was only a little embarrassed that he busted us. He accused us—”
“You and Yvette?”
She nodded, but admitted sheepishly, “Mostly me.”
“Go on.”
“He said we were being shallower than men just because we appreciate how sexy you guys are.”
His jaw locked.
Very slowly, Cherry reached out until her hand cupped him through his jeans. Lips parting at the reality of his length and thickness, she wavered, for the first time wondering if maybe he was too big.
“You’ll take me,” he assured her, his voice low and rough. His eyelids went heavier, his mouth tighter, but he didn’t move away.
When she stayed silent, overwhelmed, he encouraged her, saying, “Go on.”
So she stroked him.
“No.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “Get to the part where you and Armie discussed my junk.”
“Oh.” She would much rather explore him. “Armie overheard me talking about you and—”
He stopped her long enough to open his jeans, ease down the zipper, then carry her hand inside. Hot and sleek and big enough that her fingers didn’t quite circle him.
Like a flash fire, heat rolled through her.
Denver gave a soft growl, covered her hand with his own, and guided her in a slow stroke. After three deep breaths, he asked, “What were you saying exactly?”
How could he chat right now? She certainly couldn’t. “I don’t remember.”
“Cherry.”
Wanting the discussion over with, she shook her head. “Something about liking your shoulders and your thighs.”
He flattened his free hand on the wall next to her temple and just stared at her while enjoying her touch. “Still listening.”
“Right. So he, ah, suggested...” To get it over with before she fainted, Cherry blurted, “That you would happily give me a viewing, and that you were bigger than most.”
“Those aren’t the words he used.”
“I can’t think!”
He brushed his mouth against her temple.
“Try.”
How had she missed this bossy streak of Denver’s? “He...he said you’d gladly give me a show and you were the best hung one in the bunch.” The second the words were out, she felt his smile.
“Yeah. That sounds more like Armie.”
“He was right.” She lifted her other hand, now holding him in both. “Honest to God, Denver, I never imagined—”
His choked laugh was accompanied by a hug. “It’s not all that.”
“I...I need to sit down.” She seriously did.
“Soon.” With two fingers under her chin he lifted her face. “No more talking about my cock with other men.”
For a second there, his wording dazed her, then she nodded. “Okay, sure.” She hadn’t meant to have that discussion with Armie anyway. “No problem.”
Smile going crooked, he added, “You can brag to the other ladies all you want.”
Jealousy spiked through her; he wanted the attention of the other women? “You—”
“Now, if we’re done with interruptions...?” He pulled her hands away and went back to one knee, dragging her panties down at the same time. “Step out.”
Sidetracked, she took in his position at her feet, his gaze level on her body, and nothing else existed. Another bright flash of lightning emphasized the stark intensity in his eyes as he took in her nudity.
No one had ever looked at her quite that thoroughly.
She no sooner had that thought than bad memories tried to intrude, memories of being scrutinized critically, against her will—
No. Ruthlessly, she quashed those thoughts.
She was with Denver—nothing bad in that. He was unlike any man she’d ever known, definitely better than most. When it came to ugly experiences, there was no comparison.
Keeping his focus on her body, he held her hand to steady her as she stepped free of the underwear. Brushing them aside with the rest of their discarded clothes, Denver said, “Jesus, Cherry, you have a smokin’ body.” He touched his fingertips down her belly to her sex. “I’m dying to taste you.”
With no more warning than that, he cupped her backside, pulled her forward, and pressed his face to her.
Gasping, Cherry sank her fingers into his hair and held on.
Apparently done waiting, his hands—easily twice the size of her own—roamed over her body while he treated her to soft, devouring kisses that forced her to lock her knees and use the wall for support.
Putting his palms to the inside of each thigh, he urged her to widen her stance. Once he had her arranged to his liking, he stroked two fingers of one hand into her, and used two fingers of his other hand to part her.
Another throaty growl of appreciation, and he closed his mouth over her throbbing clitoris, suckling softly while rasping with his tongue.
Oh God, oh God, oh God... His hair felt cool brushing her thighs, his fingers working inside her, pressing, and he kept making those low sounds of hunger...and appreciation.
Thunder shook the floor beneath them. Wind lashed the rain against the window. The strobe effect of the lightning increased to an almost constant flash.
Locking her hands in his hair, she cried out as he drove her higher, as pleasure drew her tighter. Like a powder keg with a short fuse, she surprised herself by exploding so quickly. Denver supported her easily, and good thing because she went boneless, her tripping heart leaving her breathless and far too weak.
CHAPTER THREE
DENVER SCOOPED UP her lax body and carried her to the bed, putting her on her back and then taking a step away so he could look at her as he took off his shoes and socks, pushed down his jeans and removed his boxers. The storm raged on, matching his turbulent lust.
How she’d come, the sounds she’d made in her pleasure and the taste of her, left him primed. He’d always known they’d be scorching together; the easy way he’d just gotten her off proved it.
Now he wanted more. A lot more.
Eyes still closed, she half turned, drawing one knee up to help hide her sex while crossing her arms over her chest.
That pose just fired his blood more. She looked equal parts timid and boldly sexual.
She had the most amazing breasts, big and soft and real, trembling with her heavy, broken breaths. In her pale throat he could see her pulse still tripping.
“Let me see you.” Gently, he clasped her wrists and moved her arms to her sides. “You don’t ever need to hide from me.”
Her nipples were softer now that she’d come, her hair more tangled. She wasn’t as slim as most of the women who hung out at the rec center.
She was better.
Rounder in the right places and so damn sexy he knew it was going to be a struggle to hold back. Thinking that, he got the condom from his wallet, tossed his wallet on the nightstand and opened the rubber.
Cherry never moved.
Soaking up the sight of her, he smiled. “Girl, you didn’t fall asleep, did you?”
She shook her head, sucked in air, and whispered, “No.”
“Then how about you open those pretty eyes and look at me?”
She did, her gaze going straight to his dick. Eyes widening, she bit her lip and put a hand over her heart.
For some reason, that reaction almost made him laugh. “You’re overreacting, honey.” Coming down next to her, he promised gruffly, “I’m going to wear you out—and you’re going to love it.”
When he started to kiss her, she straight-armed him. “Can I ask you something first?”
Well, hell. He hadn’t expected all this reserve from her. Most women were excited by the size of his package.
But from the get-go, he’d known Cherry wasn’t like most women.
He smoothed back her hair, kissed her forehead. “Ask away.” Not like he had anything else to do.
She looked from his eyes to his chest, his shoulders. Letting out a sigh, she gently pawed him, as if testing his strength. “You are so hard.”
If she’d reach a little lower he could show her just how hard. “Comes with the territory.”
“Being a fighter?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Nonstop training.”
“Will you stay the night with me?”
After throwing that out there, she defiantly met his gaze—and bit her lip again.
“Yeah.” He bent to her mouth to do a little biting of his own. When she groaned, he tangled his hand in her messy hair to keep her still. In so many ways he wanted to crush her to him and work off the raging lust until he could get her out of his system.
Then again, he hated the idea of not wanting her.
He kissed from her mouth to her downy cheek, her warm neck, her silky shoulder, and down to one plump nipple. “I’m not going anywhere unless you boot me out.”
Her arms came around him. “Never.” And now it was her kissing him and he felt scorched not just by her sexual need, but her unguarded caring.
She seemed to think he didn’t like her, that he didn’t want her, and still she left herself open. It made him feel ultraprotective—and even more possessive.
Her heated skin repeatedly drew his hands, his mouth. Over and over he breathed in her scent until it filled his lungs, his head and his heart. He’d never known a woman who smelled so good, her hair, her skin, the fragrant, moist heat between her thighs.
She’d tasted good, too, and thinking that, he worked his way down her body again.
“Denver,” she moaned in protest. “No.”
“Yes.” Her belly sucked in as he licked her skin, and she squirmed when he teased over her hipbone.
Trying to draw him back up to her, she tunneled her fingers into his hair, but it didn’t slow him down. She’d be more sensitive now, every touch and lick more acute, and they both knew it.
It left her trembling, and him determined.
As soon as he parted her soft thighs, she dropped to her back again, then arched up as he explored her with fingers and tongue.
“I can’t,” she moaned.
He to
ok a lot of satisfaction in telling her, “You already are.”
Refusing to be rushed, Denver took his time, and even after she came again, this time with high, weak, broken cries, he didn’t move over her. He’d been wanting her long enough that savoring her was more his speed.
He got her right to the edge a third time, loving the way she quivered all over, her hoarse moans and dewy skin. With two fingers pressed deep in her, he moved up her body to kiss her parted lips. Damp hair clung to her temples and her lungs labored.
“God,” she rasped, sliding one leg up and over his. “No more.”
“I’m nowhere near done,” he told her.
Her hand clenched in his hair, drawing him back so she could see his face. “Then please, at least stop playing.”
“But playing with you is so much fun,” he whispered, adding a third finger to ensure she was ready for him.
She gasped, and as her eyes closed she bowed her body, her head twisting on the pillow.
He kissed her hard as he moved over her, kneeing her thighs wider and slowly, very slowly, taking his fingers from her.
She tensed, but he murmured to her, calming her. “Shush. Just relax for me.”
Breathless, she half laughed. “You’re nuts.”
“And you’re ready.”
“More than ready. It’s just—” Her explanation ended on a sharp inhalation as he barely entered her.
Immediately she tensed up too much, forcing him to pause with his muscles locked, nowhere near buried the way he wanted to be. All that teasing left him with dwindling control.
Three deep breaths later, she whispered, “I’m okay.”
He nibbled on her bottom lip. “I know.” Now he needed her to believe it. He was hung, no two ways about it. But he’d never in his life hurt a woman and he sure as hell wouldn’t start with Cherry.
On straightened arms, he watched her, eased out a little—and pressed in more.
She held on to his arms just above his elbows, her fingers gripping tight, her nails stinging as if she thought she could hold him back if she decided to.
“Tell me you want me.” Again he withdrew, only to rock in farther.