“Don’t worry, baby. I promised I’d take it easy the first time,” he said, forcing a smile that he didn’t really feel inside. “Put your head down.”
She did, hiding those soft blue eyes. Guilt knotted his belly and he almost pulled away. He couldn’t though—proving just what a jackass he was. He was going to walk away, he knew it, but he was going to have her one more time.
And he did, hard and fast, dragging climax after climax from her. She felt so silky hot, the swollen tissues of her pussy clutching at his cock, tighter than a fist.
She came again and Mike gritted his teeth, holding desperately onto his control. As she collapsed limply onto the mattress, Mike pulled away. The brightly colored scarves were still tied to her wrists, securing her to the headboard.
“Not yet,” he muttered as he again flipped her onto her back.
He crouched between her thighs, staring at her, etching the way she looked into his memory. Her mouth was parted, swollen and pink. Her breasts lifted and fell in a rapid rhythm as she tried to catch her breath. Her arms were stretched overhead, her wrists crossed now, the silky scarves tangled around her hands.
“You’re beautiful, Lori.” She was, so damn beautiful she made his heart ache. So damn sweet. Definitely not what he needed and he sure as hell wasn’t what she needed or deserved.
He shoved the thoughts out of his mind. There’d be enough time to think about regrets and guilt later.
With focused intent, Mike sprawled between her thighs. He pushed them wide and lowered his mouth to her sex. He growled against her flesh and ordered, “Look at me.”
Her lids lifted just barely and she stared at him as he pushed his tongue inside her snug, swollen folds. She shivered against him. He did it again and then he shifted his aim and licked her clitoris. Slowly, circling his tongue around the hard little nub. At the same time, he pushed two fingers inside her. She clenched down around him and screamed out his name.
She climaxed against his mouth and he pulled away. He angled her hips up with one hand and with the other he caught her behind her knee and pushed it to her chest. He thrust inside her, burrowing deep, until he could go no deeper. Turning his face to hers, he sought her mouth and kissed her, tangling his tongue with hers, trying to get as much of her taste as he could.
Sweat dripped from their bodies as he planted his palms on either side of her shoulders and pushed up. “Come for me,” he whispered. He circled his hips in the cradle of hers then pulled out. A slow, shallow thrust then retreat, then a deep, hard thrust. He kept teasing her like that until she was panting and pleading with him.
He sank his weight back down atop her and eased his length completely inside, one inch at a time. “Come for me,” he repeated. Then he started to shaft her, burying his cock completely before pulling back until he had nearly withdrawn. Two, three, four strokes.
On the fifth one, she exploded under him, her hips jerking convulsively. As she climaxed around him, he sank his teeth into her shoulder, biting down. As he exploded into her, she screamed and bucked under him.
Lori was so exhausted that she couldn’t see straight. She could hardly move her legs, and her eyelids felt ridiculously heavy.
She wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and go to sleep, but Mike wasn’t done. When he pulled away, she started to reach for him, but the scarves binding her wrists kept her from doing it.
“Untie me, Mike.”
He stared at her, his eyes remote. He just shook his head silently and stood up. Her mouth was dry, but she wasn’t sure if she was thirsty or nervous. He walked into the bathroom and Lori’s eyes dropped to his ass. The hard, muscled curve had caught her eyes before and she wanted to touch him.
And she was going to, as soon as he untied her.
But the thought of what she wanted to do evaporated along with all other thoughts, when he came out of the bathroom.
He had a little glass bottle in his hand. It was massage oil. Lori had a weird feeling he wasn’t planning on giving her a backrub with it.
“Roll over.”
“Mike—”
He didn’t let her finish. He covered her mouth with his, his tongue pushing inside. When he pulled away, she was breathless. By the time she caught her breath, Mike had rolled her onto her belly. Automatically, she pushed up on her knees, but with her wrists still trapped by the scarves, all she managed to do was stick her ass in the air.
Her face flamed and she started to roll back over, but Mike’s hands caught her hips. “You said anything, Lori. Remember?” His voice was a husky whisper against her nape. He trailed his fingers down between her buttocks and pressed against the small opening there, a light, teasing touch.
“Remember?” he prodded again.
“Yes.” Her voice came out in a terrified squeak as he touched her again. This time, his fingers were slick and wet with the oil. It was cool at first but as he pushed inside, the oil warmed.
Warmed, hell. She felt like it was scalding her—like he was scalding her. Stretching her. He pumped his fingers in and out, working more of the oil inside her with each caress.
“Are you ready?”
She felt him pressing against her, the head of his cock rounded and a hell of a lot bigger than his fingers. “No.”
Mike just laughed a little. “Yeah, you are. You’re so hot, you practically burn my hands.” He smoothed one hand down her hip and held her still as he pushed against her.
Lori tried to pull away—pain speared through her as he pushed the head of his shaft inside, past the tight ring of muscle. “Don’t pull away,” he muttered. “That won’t help. Push down on me.”
Lori shook her head. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and wondered what in hell she had been thinking—damn it, women actually liked this?
His hand lifted and she thought for a second he would let her go. Instead, he slapped her ass. It was a hard, stinging smack and she jerked. “Push down!” His voice was commanding and instinctively she did as he said and pushed down.
As she did, he pushed inside. The pain didn’t go away—it exploded into something else. Something caught between pleasure and pain, between heaven and hell. He pulled back and pushed inside again.
And again—each stroke made her burn a little hotter. He was stretching her, his cock thick and hard, carving through her tightness.
He slapped her again and Lori screamed out his name. He gripped both her hips now, holding her body still as he pulled out and thrust back inside her. Lori whimpered and shook underneath him.
She could feel the orgasm building inside her, something bigger, more exhilarating, more terrifying than anything she’d ever felt before. She shied away, squirming forward, trying to move away from him and the climax.
Mike wouldn’t let her though. He slid one hand around, his fingers sliding over the slick, swollen flesh of her sex.
When he pressed down on her clit, the orgasm exploded through her, taking her under like some big Goliath that swallowed her whole.
As she bucked, shuddered and screamed her way through it, Mike came, his cock jerking inside her. She felt him come in a series of hot, wet pulses.
Blackness hovered around her, her vision graying out for just a second. She felt him moving, both his body and hers. Felt the tension around her wrists go free as he untied the scarves.
When she lifted her head, her vision had cleared. She turned to look at Mike, staring at him as he lay down beside her and took her in his arms.
“Go to sleep, Lori.”
She tried to resist—she wanted to talk him. Ask him what was wrong. Wanted to ask…
But before she could say anything, sleep rushed up and claimed her.
* * * * *
Lori woke up alone.
It was Monday morning and she had to be at school in an hour. The students weren’t due back for two weeks but Lori had a million things to do to get ready for the school year.
She couldn’t force her body to move though.
So
mething had been wrong last night.
She’d known it when he rolled on top of her. She’d been uneasy even when he pushed inside her, but the feel of him, so thick, so hot, had distracted her. She was wet between her thighs, wet from herself and from him. He hadn’t worn a rubber.
The only time all weekend.
She reached up and pushed her hair aside. Then she paused, staring at her wrist. There was a faint red mark on it. And on her other wrist. He hadn’t tied her tightly, but she had jerked against the scarves hard enough, often enough, that she had faint little red marks on each wrist.
She would have smiled if she hadn’t been so disturbed.
What had been wrong with Mike last night?
Finally, she sat up and headed into the shower, turning her back to the spray and letting it beat down on the tense muscles in her back. As she stood there, soaking up the steam, she brooded. Then she kicked herself about brooding.
So he’d been quiet last night. Big deal.
It wasn’t like he was always a chatterbox.
Even as she worked herself around to not being so worried about it, she asked herself what it was. There was no relationship between them, right?
Maybe she had thought she’d felt a connection. Didn’t mean Mike felt it. He hadn’t implied anything like that and she had no reason to get her hopes up. The bad thing about sleeping with your best friend—you knew the person you were sleeping with. Like really knew him. She knew that Mike had absolutely no interest in long-term relationships and marriage appealed to him about as much as getting an ice pick jabbed into his eye.
Unable to stop herself, Lori stood there analyzing every little thing that had happened since he’d left her house yesterday to change. That was when he’d started acting a little odd. A little more standoffish.
She snapped out of her daze and realized she was freezing. The water had gone cold and she hadn’t even washed her hair. Shivering, she hurried through her shower and told herself to quit worrying. It had been an amazing weekend and even if that one weekend was all she got, that was fine.
He hadn’t made any promises and Lori hadn’t been looking for any.
Still, as she headed into her closet to find some clothes, she couldn’t shake the vague sense of uneasiness.
* * * * *
It only got worse.
She saw Mike twice during the days that followed. He was avoiding her. There was no question about it. Each time was toward evening when he was heading home. The first time he headed inside without saying anything. The second time, she caught him as he was getting out of the car and he’d stood there for a few seconds and then given her some lame-ass excuse that he’d forgotten to do some paperwork.
She was rapidly approaching pissed by the time Friday rolled around. She wasn’t sure who she was angry with though. Herself or Mike.
No, she really hadn’t expected anything to come of the weekend they’d spent together, but she sure as hell hadn’t expected him to start treating her like a pariah, either.
It was seven o’clock and Mike’s driveway was empty. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter. But there was an odd ache in her chest. Climbing from her car, she walked over to the picket fence that separated the properties. Lori wrapped her hands around two pickets and stood there, staring into nothingness as the ache in her chest spread.
“You screwed up, Lori,” she told herself. She’d been attracted to Mike for a while, but she wasn’t his type. He hadn’t ever told her what type he did like, but Lori knew it wasn’t her. She’d been okay with that because of their friendship.
Messing up that friendship was the last thing she had wanted. But it looked like that was exactly what had happened. Sex changed things. Even when the parties involved weren’t looking for anything more.
“Yeah, but you were looking,” Lori muttered and made herself deal with it. As much as she hated it, she had to be honest with herself. Yeah, part of her had been hoping for something more. And judging by the gaping, empty hole in her chest, it had been a big part.
* * * * *
“Something wrong?”
Alex glanced at the petite brunette across from him and just shook his head. “Just saw somebody I know.” And it wasn’t somebody he would have expected to see there, either.
Of course, she looked damn good. Good enough to eat, in fact, and Alex found himself wondering if he could talk Mike into sharing.
Lori Whitmore strolled along the outer edge of the dance floor, looking into the crowd, completely unaware of him. Which gave him the chance to admire the view. She wore something made of teal blue leather. It laced up between her breasts so that about an inch of skin showed between the lacings. It was short, ending just a few inches below her breasts, well above the waistband of the low-slung, wide-legged black pants. She wore a necklace of hammered silver and had pulled her butter-yellow curls into a high, loose ponytail.
“You know Lori?”
Alex looked at Grace with an arched brow. “How do you know her?”
Grace grinned. “We both work at Braxton Elementary.”
With a chuckle, Alex said, “I wonder if the parents of this community have any idea the kind of perverts who are teaching their kids.” He took a sip of his Coke, looking back at Lori. “She lives next door to my partner, Mike.”
“Mike Ryan?” Grace had an odd tone in her voice as she looked at Lori. Her eyes were dark and she looked a little worried.
“Yeah. Mike won’t admit it, but he’s gone over on her.”
Grace leaned back in her chair. “Apparently not too much. He’s out in the maze.”
Alex swore. Lori disappeared into the crowd and he stood up, craning his head to see. And he did, just in time to watch her slip out the back door.
* * * * *
She’d come here for a distraction, but it wasn’t working.
In a desperate attempt to try to stop thinking about Mike for just a few minutes, she headed out into the maze. Part of her had been hoping to find Grace so she could maybe unload a little. Grace hadn’t been at the bar or on the dance floor, though.
For some reason, Lori didn’t expect she’d find her out in the maze—and if she did, she hoped she wouldn’t die of embarrassment. She walked along the path, staring down at the stones or straight ahead. She didn’t have to look to know what she wasn’t seeing.
The breathy sighs and moans, the occasional bit of conversation. If you could call it that. Her face was red with embarrassment and Lori turned around. She was leaving. Maybe she’d go catch a movie or—
Not.
The first few seconds of what she saw didn’t make any sense. She couldn’t see anything of the woman except long legs wrapped in leather, a half naked back and yards of black curls. She was face down, literally, her face buried in Mike’s crotch. As Lori watched, she lifted up and then slid back down.
Lori couldn’t actually see what the bitch was doing, but she didn’t have to.
She swallowed, feeling like somebody had dropped an anvil on her chest. She looked up at Mike’s face and met his dark green eyes for the quickest of seconds. He stared at her with no expression on his face.
Without saying a word, she spun away and headed back toward the club as fast as she could.
It was a hell of a time to realize that she was a lot more involved in the thing with Mike than she’d realized.
She was in love with the son of a bitch.
Turning the corner, she plowed straight into a wide chest covered with plain white cotton. “Excuse me,” she mumbled and tried to go around.
Big, hard hands came up and closed gently over her upper arms. “Hi, Lori.”
Numb, she looked up and saw that it was Alex. Lamely, she replied, “Hi.” Then she pulled away and went around him. He said her name, but she just kept walking.
Home. She wanted to go home.
* * * * *
“What in hell are you doing?”
Braced against the high, curved back of the stone ben
ch, Mike looked up at Alex. “Do you mind? I’m busy.” He looked back down at the woman kneeling in front of him and tried to remember her name. Buffy. Bambi. Something like that…he thought. The inky black of her curls spilled over her shoulders as she bobbed up and down.
Unless she had her mouth full, she annoyed the hell out of him. Called him “Master” and kept wanting him to call her “slave”. But as long as she kept her mouth full…
Alex didn’t walk away so Mike looked up at him. He ran a hand down what’s-her-name’s curls and fisted his hand at her nape, guiding her into a slower rhythm. “I’m not up for double play tonight, Alex. Go away.”
“Apparently the only thing you’re in the mood for is being an ass.” He glared at the woman but she continued on, seemingly unaware.
But Mike couldn’t focus on her very talented mouth when Alex continued to stand right there, glaring at him. He tugged on her curls, slowing her to a halt. She didn’t pull away at first and Mike said, “Enough.” He searched his brain for her name and finally remembered. “Kiki. Enough, Kiki. I need to talk to my buddy here.”
She lifted her head and stared at him with neon blue eyes. She had to be wearing contacts. The blue looked too unnatural against her deep, olive-toned skin to be real. She batted heavily mascaraed lashes at him and then lowered her face to rub her cheek against his thigh. “I do not mind waiting, Master. Perhaps the two of you…” Her voice trailed off but he got the message.
Alex chuckled. “Master? Honey, go inside and find yourself somebody who’ll appreciate you a little more.”
She looked back at Mike but she wasn’t going to find whatever she was looking for from him. “Go on inside, Kiki. Maybe some other time.”
As she left, he stood up and adjusted himself, tugging up his zipper and buttoning his shirt before he sat back down. “Say whatever it is you want to say and then leave me the hell alone. I need a drink.” Or five. Ten. However many it took to forget the wounded look he’d seen in Lori’s eyes as she stood there staring at him.
Alex didn’t waste any time. “What kind of idiot are you?”
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