by Jess Dee
Brody began to sway his hips, fucking her lips. No, not fucking. His actions were too gentle for that, too controlled, but Bee followed his lead, hollowing her cheeks, relaxing her tongue, and allowed him to direct his penis in and out of her mouth.
She wrapped an arm around his thighs, let her hand slide over his firm arse cheeks and continued to tease his scrotum.
Brody’s fingers tunneled into her hair, tightening and relaxing reflexively, as though he was unaware he moved them in time with his thrusts into her mouth.
Wet heat flooded her pussy. Her breasts ached. Her clit tingled. But most of all, her heart filled. Warmth settled deep inside it, along with a sense of contentment. Of rightness.
The muscles in his thigh quivered. His balls tautened.
Bee would have smiled, but then she couldn’t take back control, couldn’t increase the suction and bounce her head up and down on his cock.
Brody ceased stroking into her. He grabbed fistfuls of her hair, and his legs stiffened as a groan filled the air.
“Gonna come, Bee. Gonna come so hard, Honeybee.”
Emotion welled in her chest. Tears stung her eyes, and her heart skipped a beat.
Honeybee.
He had a nickname for her.
She sucked him in a little deeper this time.
Honeybee. Rick’s nickname for her.
Memories crashed over her. Memories of sucking Rick, of what he liked, of his reactions.
She pulled off him, and then took only his tip in her mouth, swirling her tongue around, applying muted pressure as she suckled. Not too much pressure—he’d be too sensitive.
The breath exploded from Brody’s mouth. He ceased moving, ceased talking. Tension turned his arse cheeks to rock. His testicles pulled tight in her hand. A soft keening sound filled the air.
Bee released his arse and wrapped her free hand around his shaft, pumping him.
The keening sound increased. He tugged hard at her hair, and then he was coming. Spilling his release in her mouth, pumping over and over again.
Bee swallowed once, and he jerked violently but continued to come.
Long seconds passed before his orgasm faded and his body relaxed, the tension seeping out of it. With a final shudder, one last spurt of semen landed on her tongue, and then he was pulling at her hair, gently coercing her mouth off him. He collapsed to his knees before her, his breath uneven, his cheeks flushed.
She swallowed as he watched her, the blue-green of his eyes almost invisible around his huge pupils.
“Christ…Honeybee.” He shook his head as though incapable of further speech. But then, speech was not necessary. Not when he cupped her face, pulled it in close to his and kissed her so thoroughly Bianca shook from head to toe when he was done.
By the time their mouths parted, Bianca was a shaky mess.
Her hands trembled, her lips were swollen and her lungs couldn’t quite find an even pattern of inhaling and exhaling. Her bikini top stretched tight around her aching breasts, and her bikini bottoms were now not only wet from the pool but from the cream that slickened her pussy.
If kissing him had turned her on, blowing him had turned her into a wanton beast. She could think of nothing but fucking him. Lowering herself onto that delicious cock and riding him until pleasure swamped them both.
“That look in your eyes…” Brody’s voice was rough, hoarse. “Jesus, it’s making me hard again.”
Had her mind been on anything other than the complete and utter need to make love to the man, she might have scoffed at his nonsense.
Of course he wasn’t hard again. No one could get hard that fast. Not after an orgasm like the one he’d just had. But fire lit his eyes, and a muscle ticked in his cheek, and he looked so damn sexy, Bianca could think only of his growing erection and what it might translate into.
Brody growled. “There is no way I’m taking you here, Bee. No way on earth. You deserve satin sheets and rose petals. Complete luxury and nothing less.” He shook his head. “I’m taking you back to my room.” He ran his thumb over her lips, dipped it into her mouth, and she licked at it lightly, making him shudder again. “I’m going to lower you onto those sheets and strip you slowly. Leisurely. Then I’m going to take my sweet time making love to you. Tasting every inch of your body. From your mouth to your toes and all those sexy bits in between.” He swallowed. “All of them.”
“Wh-what if I don’t want to wait ’til we get back to your room?” she rasped. No way she’d have the patience to get back there. “What if I want you to do all of those things to me right here?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “And risk sharing you with the mozzies? Not a chance.”
As though one had been hanging around waiting for a good opportunity, a mosquito buzzed around her head and landed on her arm. Brody brushed it away.
“My room?” His smile screamed I told you so.
“Your room. As quickly as we can get there.”
Brody was on his feet in a second, and so was she. He pulled his boardies back into place, fastened them, and before Bee could take a step in any direction, he tossed an arm around her shoulders, leant down, placed another around the back of her legs and swung her up into the air.
Stunned, Bianca had no chance to object as he tucked her against his chest and walked briskly through the clump of trees and back onto the garden path, now free of other wedding guests.
She tried to relax against him. Attempted to enjoy the ride. Tried to appreciate the strength in his arms and the firmness of his lovely chest. She focused on her body, on the heat between her legs and the ache in her breasts.
But with every step the heat cooled and the ache lessened.
God help her, she wanted to stay in the moment. Wanted him to race them back to his room so they could make love. Indulge. Fuck.
Or she had wanted that. Mere seconds ago. Before Brody had hauled her into his arms. Before he’d scooped her up as though she were weightless.
Now, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t relax. Couldn’t retrieve the moment. Not while Brody carried her.
“I can’t wait to get you inside, strip you naked, and fu—have my wicked way with you.” His voice was rough, his steps unwavering.
She wanted to agree, wanted to writhe in anticipation of what was to come. But she couldn’t. Bianca was trapped.
Trapped in Brody’s arms.
Trapped in the past. Trapped in Rick’s arms, being carried once again.
Her muscles tensed.
Trapped.
Oxygen eluded her. She couldn’t breathe.
Instinctively, she struggled against Brody.
He stilled. “Are you okay?”
Yes, she tried to tell herself. She was fine. Everything was fine. And it would be even more fine if they just got to his room and he let her stand on her own two legs.
But if that was true, why did claustrophobia claw at her throat? Why did she suddenly feel as if she no longer existed here, in the present, on this magical, tropical island?
Why could she not shake the fear that she’d been thrown back in time and landed slap bang in the middle of her marital problems?
“Bianca?” Concern blazed from Brody’s eyes.
She struggled again to free herself. “You…you need to put me down. Please.”
Brody didn’t hesitate. He set her on her feet.
Disappointment streaked across his face. And confusion. “You’re having second thoughts.” It wasn’t a question.
She stepped back, took a few gulps of air, filled her lungs. “Not second thoughts.”
“Then what?”
Oh, God. How to explain?
She captured the first word that came to mind. “Flashbacks.”
“Flashbacks?”
“I…” No, not her. “My husband…”
Brody’s voice deepened. “What about him?”
She took a few more steadying breaths, found her feet planted steadily on the ground. Appreciated it.
“
H-he used to lift me up. Just like you did.”
Brody looked at her intently, waiting for a better explanation. His stance might appear relaxed, but Bee wasn’t fooled. There was nothing calm or tranquil about the way he looked at her. He was alert, listening. He was…tense.
“He had a habit of carrying me,” she scrambled to clarify.
Regret rushed her. She’d killed the moment. Broken their carnal connection. Brody wasn’t about to haul her into his bungalow now, strip her naked and fu—have his wicked way with her.
He was too busy waiting for her explanation. And maybe being wary of her words.
“H-he—Rick—would pick me up whenever he thought I needed help.”
At first she’d loved Rick’s shows of masculinity. Loved that he was big enough, strong enough to lift her, help her over a puddle, give her a boost up a steep hill, carry her when they were in a hurry, step in front of her if he feared danger of any kind.
Brody blinked. “And that was a problem for you?”
“Not in the beginning.” Her hands fluttered at her sides. “I wouldn’t have minded so much if it had just been about him carrying me physically.” Her stomach rolled as she realized what she was about to do—discuss an issue in her marriage she’d never discussed with Rick. How would Brody take it? “The thing is, he started carrying me emotionally too.”
Brody frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”
Why would he?
She clasped her hands together to stop their restless fluttering. “I was immature when we got married. I went from my parents’ home, where they looked after me, to my own home with Rick. And I just let him do what my parents had done. Look after me, make decisions for me.”
Brody cleared his throat. Bianca thought he was going to say something in response, but instead he signaled to a bench a few meters away. “Why don’t we sit down for this?”
She nodded. “Good idea.”
Brody made no attempt to help her get there. He didn’t carry her, he didn’t even put a hand on her lower back to steer her, as Rick would have done.
They sat stiffly, side by side, looking across the gardens and over the beach.
“You were saying?” Brody prompted.
Bee stared out at the ocean sparkling in the distance. It was easier looking there than at Brody. “It suited me. I liked being cared for. Liked not being involved in anything more important than deciding what we had for dinner at night.”
“So what changed?”
“I did.” She waited, let the concept settle in his mind. And hers. “I started to grow up and learn a whole lot about myself I’d never known before.” Her social work studies had helped with that. “I began to understand who I was and how I’d just switched my parents for him.”
“So you saw him as a father figure?” Brody sounded appalled.
Bee chuckled at the thought. “Hardly. We were far too physically compatible for me to ever mistake him for my father. But I did let him organize my life—until I realized I was just as responsible for our relationship and well-being as he was.” She sighed deeply. Was it any wonder Rick had said no to children? He already had a child living with him. “Thing is, I twigged too late, because by then Rick was used to his role. He’d even taken it one step further.”
“Further how?” Was that reluctance she heard in Brody’s voice?
“He’d started carrying all the problems in our lives too. Keeping them quiet so as not to worry me. He stopped talking to me about issues. I never knew if something worried him because he never told me.” She sighed deeply, ruing her immaturity, her stupidity.
It had taken her a while to realize their marriage was falling apart, because Rick wouldn’t let her see how upset he was by the distance that had grown between them. Right until the end he’d refused to speak openly with her, yet still tried to carry and protect her. And the more he did, the more frustrated she’d become. The more claustrophobic she’d felt. And the more distant they’d grown.
“And you never explained to him how much you needed him to let you…walk on your own two feet.” It was more of a statement than a question.
Bee finally turned to look at him. “Only after it was too late.” A year too late.
Brody was silent for a long moment. “I’m glad you told me.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You are?”
He nodded. “If I‘m unaware of what worries you then I can’t avoid doing it. This way at least I know. No carrying Bianca. Not physically or emotionally.”
She took his hand in hers. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like being touched. I do. Very much. And…I especially like being touched by you.”
A soft breath escaped him, like a sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear that, since I enjoy touching you. Very much.”
“D-do you think we could go back to your room now, so you could touch me again? Maybe all over this time?”
Brody looked at her. “Would it be okay if I held your hand as we walked there?”
She smiled. “It would be very okay.”
He waited until she’d stood before getting up himself, and then he let her take the first step before falling in beside her as they walked.
Bianca smiled to herself, noting how his behavior had changed from one extreme to the other. And all because she’d been brave enough to voice her concerns, something she’d never done adequately during her marriage.
They walked slowly. Gone was the urgency of before, until Brody leant down and whispered in her ear. “You know, I still can’t wait to get you back to my room and have my wicked way with you.”
And then they were running again, sprinting along the path, Bianca chuckling as they went. Her shoulders felt curiously light, and she knew she’d done the right thing setting Brody straight. Now, wherever they were headed, they’d at least go there on equal footing.
Chapter Five
Breathless, Bianca stared at the beachside bungalow. “Your room is right next door to mine.”
“How’s that for coincidence?” He grinned and yanked her hand. “Mine’s still closer than yours. Let’s go.”
And then they were inside, the door was closed and there were no family members or wedding guests approaching from any angle. It was just Bianca and Brody.
Her heart stuttered. “Uh, I think I should warn you. I haven’t done this in a while.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Walked into a hotel room?”
“No, stupid. This.” She motioned between the two of them. “Sex.”
His eyes filled with concern. And with a twinkle. “Think you’ve forgotten how?”
Bee nodded gravely. “Alas, yes. I have absolutely no memory of what comes next.”
Brody hesitated for just a second before he answered. “I could show you. Hold your hand through every step—if you’d be okay with that.”
She smiled at him. “As long as you don’t carry me, that’d be perfectly okay.”
He stepped closer. “First thing is to get rid of anything that may interfere with what we’re about to do. Which means your bikini needs to go.”
“Go where?”
“Away. Off. Somewhere else.”
“Ah. Okay. And, er, how would I do that?”
Another step closer. “First, you’d need to pull on this bow just here.” Brody feathered his hand over her back and tugged on the tie there.
Bee’s bikini top slackened immediately.
“And…then?” Her voice came out like a whisper.
“And then we pull on the second bow.” His hand threaded beneath her hair, stopped and tugged again. “Right here.”
The top slipped off and dropped to the ground.
Bee’s breath caught. Her nipples tightened painfully at the sudden freedom. “A-and then?”
But Brody didn’t answer. He’d stepped back, and his gaze was focused on her bare chest. A shudder trembled through his shoulders, and with a soft, reverent moan, he raised his hands.
Bianca’s eyes slid shut. The rough skin
of his palms teased her nipples before he cupped her breasts, holding them as though he was doing nothing but appreciating their weight and texture.
It had been so long since someone had touched her like this. Intimately. She’d missed it. So damn much. Wanted more, wanted his mouth on her breasts, his hands moving, exploring, caressing. She wanted—
Brody gave it to her. His hand disappeared, and his warm, moist lips closed over a nipple, tugging it into his mouth. The pull wasn’t gentle. It was firm, assertive, and Bianca felt it all the way to her bones. Her stomach dipped and swirled. Gooseflesh popped up over her skin, and a long, contented sigh escaped her throat.
Brody plumped her breasts together, held them close and moved over to the other nipple, subjecting it to the same sweet torment: kissing, suckling, nipping, abrading with his teeth and kissing again.
Tears filled Bianca’s eyes. It was…beautiful. Sensual. Intimate. It made her feel stunning. Wanted. Adored.
She hadn’t felt any of that for so long. Had begun to doubt her own sexual appeal since the separation. The lack of Rick’s constant assurances had left her floundering.
But Brody brought it all back. The confidence, the security, the knowledge that even though she no longer had the body of a teenager, she was still attractive. His appreciative moans filled the air, and his talented mouth drove her wild.
Liquid fire pooled between her legs, and she arched her back, pressing her breasts harder against his lips, hoping to feel the rasp of his tongue move lower, over her belly and downwards.
When at last Brody raised his head, his eyes were dark blue, all sign of green gone from their depths. “Next…step.”
She tried to look at him expectantly, but knew she’d failed when he swallowed hard. “Christ, Bee. Look at me with those bedroom eyes for one more second, and I’ll take you right here, on the floor, and the rest of those steps be damned.”
Bianca nodded her encouragement. She’d have instructed him to forget the rest of it—begged him to—only her voice seemed to have vanished, and in its place was a low groan of anticipation.
“Next step,” Brody said with renewed determination. “Remove any remaining clothing that might be deemed obstructive to procedures.”