by Lynn LaFleur
“The coffee’s almost ready.”
He shook his head.
“Please.” To underscore her words, she hurried across the room and took his hand. “Come in, before we both freeze to death.”
Mary Beth knew Rico kept his eyes on her and every move she made. Whether she bent over to turn the flame lower under the coffeepot, take silverware from the drawer, or divvy up the last of the chocolate chip cookies she’d baked during last week’s one-day storm.
She felt his eyes boring into her, the heat of his desire at the way her jeans hugged her ass, looking beyond the seam that divided her cheeks to the soft flesh between her thighs.
Things were churning inside her, little signals that told her she and Rico would end the evening in bed, signals that her body picked up long before her mind noticed.
She already felt the telltale dampness between her legs. If Rico dared move closer, and she listened to her body’s urgings, she’d end up in his arms.
“I’ll get the cups,” Rico said.
The coffee mugs sat on the shelf above the stove. Before she had time to say she could reach them, he’d closed the distance between them and plucked the mugs off the shelf. He stood less than an inch away, a mug in each hand. If he closed his arms, he’d encircle her.
She could lift the pot but if she did, she might burn him. She could tell him to step back. She knew he would. Or she could give in and do what she wanted to do—lean back and feel the length of him pressed against her.
She released the handle of the coffeepot and turned. “Put the mugs down, Rico.”
He brushed away a strand of hair that had caught on her eyelash, then ran his fingertip gently along her cheek. “Are you sure?”
“About…what?”
He slid his finger across her lips.
God help her, she couldn’t stop herself. Her resolve melted, like a marshmallow over an open fire.
Her lips parted.
Rico accepted her silent invitation and kissed her softly.
He didn’t deepen the kiss, didn’t press for entry into her mouth. Instead, he cradled her jaw in his hand and moved his lips ever so slowly over hers. He kissed her with tenderness and care, a tenderness she never dreamed he possessed.
One kiss wasn’t enough. The second set her aflame. She didn’t care what he did to her tonight, as long as he did it soon.
She inched away from the stove and took his hand. “Bring the matches,” she said.
To his puzzled expression, she answered, “You can’t appreciate a winter sky until you’ve seen it by candlelight.”
One step inside her bedroom and Rico understood what Mary Beth was saying. The room was twice the size he’d expected, with a four-poster king-sized bed, and above the bed, the largest skylight he’d ever seen. It was as if someone had peeled away half the ceiling and opened the universe to him.
Candles stood everywhere—in sconces, on candlesticks, in jars, bowls and candelabras.
“Light the candles,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back.”
He struck the first match and watched her duck into her dressing room.
Mary Beth returned moments later, a vision that left him breathless. Gone were the jeans and sweater that set his imagination soaring. Gone were the woolen socks and the barrettes that held her wild, kinky, sexy red hair in place. Now loose curls surrounded her face, giving it a touch of innocence that her dark blue eyes belied.
Two skimpy swatches of lace cupped her breasts and a matching triangle covered her mound. Nothing had prepared him for the way she looked, or the fact that for more than ten years he’d fantasized about a woman who’d come to him like this. She’d been faceless in his fantasies. Now he knew why. His dream goddess had always been Mary Beth Hunter.
Mary Beth had held onto her virginity until the grand old age of nineteen. Her first time satisfied her curiosity and little else. That changed after she entered into more serious relationships. She liked sex, liked the urgency and passion, and the heightened sense of contentment after a night of lovemaking.
But right now, she felt scared—knee-jerking, butterflies-racing, pulse-pounding fear. She wasn’t afraid of Rico, she was afraid of herself. Physically, he affected her more than any other man she’d ever known. The sound of his name made her palms dampen. Seeing him shirtless, her knees grew weak. Last night she abandoned the warnings her mind sent and lost herself in pure undiluted lust and a couple of mind-blowing orgasms strong enough to rock the Richter scale.
“You look…” She saw he struggled to find the right words. “Damn, you look amazing.”
She felt amazing too. Her nerve endings had leapt to attention at the first glimpse of the desire she saw in his eyes.
Tonight, she didn’t see anger. His need for her came through so strongly, she felt bathed in it. He looked at her as if she were a fine wine. She’d seen that expression once or twice in her life, and neither time made her feel the way she did now—giddy, sensuous, and so ready, she wondered if she might come without him touching her.
Best of all, gentleness had replaced the anger she’d seen before. Hunger, yes. Passion, yes. The need to hurt—gone.
Their shadows flickered in the light of the candles. The scent of lavender surrounded them, and the wind sent the branches of a pine scraping against the window.
He walked across the room, never taking his gaze off her, staring now into her eyes. She mewled when he took her upper arms and pulled her against his chest. Through his jeans, his erection pressed into her. “I want to be inside you.”
His warm breath ruffled the wisps of curls and raised goose bumps on her skin. Her nipples peaked against the lace of her bra.
He pushed aside her hair and nipped at her earlobe. “You’re always on my mind, no matter what I’m doing.” His hand slipped low on her back and grazed cheeks left bare by her thong. She shivered and moved closer. If she stood on tiptoes, maybe then his cock, as hard as granite, would find the spot that had begun weeping the moment she realized they’d soon be making love.
Mary Beth moved one hand between their bodies and caressed his cock. Rico jerked and groaned. “Don’t do that. You’re going to make me come in my jeans.”
With a husky chuckle, she squeezed his firm flesh. “No way. I wouldn’t dress like this for two minutes and a cloud of dust.”
“Two minutes?” He grinned. “How ‘bout two hours?”
“For the first time.”
He slid his hands up her body to her breasts. “Only twice?”
She looked down at his hands, trying not to purr with the pleasure from his kneading her soft flesh. “I can take anything you can gi…” Her breath caught when he plucked her nipples. She closed her eyes. “As long as it keeps feeling this good.”
“You ain’t felt nothin’ yet.”
A gentle bite on her neck. A soothing lick of his tongue. Mary Beth sighed. “I’ll give you an hour to quit that.”
This time, he answered with a carnal chuckle. “You won’t last five minutes.”
A challenge. She’d always loved a challenge. “Oh, yeah? Let’s see who comes first.”
With that statement, she tore at the button and zipper of his jeans. Grasping the waistband along with the top of his briefs, she quickly tugged both to his knees. Once free, Rico’s cock sprang up toward his flat belly. Mary Beth whimpered. His cock was long and thick, his balls tight and hairless.
She dropped to her knees and took his cock in her mouth.
“Marone!” he cried in Italian and hissed out a breath.
Rico drove his fingers into her hair and twisted the bright red curls…not wanting to hurt her, but unable to control his fingers. If she didn’t stop, he’d come, but the pleasure was so great, he didn’t want to stop. He moved his hips, fucking her mouth while she continued to suck him. Her tongue circled the head of his cock again, then she darted the tip into the tiny slit. He had to push his pleasure aside. “No…no more,” he sputtered between sharp breaths.
S
he pulled her mouth away. Her eyes sparkled and with a hint of a dare, she smiled. “First one to come’s a rotten egg.”
Rico didn’t need to hear anything else. In seconds he’d shucked his jeans and briefs, hoisted Mary Beth over his shoulder and carried her to the edge of the bed. “That’s it. You’re going to pay for that.” He flipped her over his knee and without bothering to lower the elastic that held the lacy thong in place, sent the palm of his hand stinging against her cheek.
“Ouch!” She turned to him and stuck out her tongue. “I dare you to try that again.”
When he raised his hand to accommodate her, she jumped up and scampered away from him. He could see she tried to look stern, until a hint of a grin turned up the corners of her mouth. “You think you’re so tough. Catch me if you can.” She took off running, showing her grace and quickness, as well as how really large the room, and bed, were.
A few turns and he managed to close the gap between them. They were both laughing and breathless when he tackled her and tossed her into the middle of the bed.
He straddled her, locked both her wrists with one hand, and with little more effort than it took to strike a match, ripped her thong in two.
“Hey, that cost me a lot—”
His lips cut off her protest as he claimed her mouth. Teeth, tongue, lips, he worked every part of her mouth with his.
Mary Beth returned his kisses with no hesitation, her tongue driving deeply to mate with his. He caressed her head, her back, her ass, as they kissed. Then hitching one of her legs on his hip, he rubbed his cock against her pussy.
“Let go of my hands.” She tried to jerk her wrists free. “I want to touch you.”
He wouldn’t last three seconds if she did. Her mouth had almost driven him to a climax. He needed to bring his desire back under control and concentrate on her.
“Maybe I was wrong,” he rasped and turned his attention to her earlobe and the soft part of her neck below it. Gooseflesh covered her.
“About what?” she said between raspy breaths.
“First time might not take two hours.”
She leaned into the pillow and closed her eyes. “Whatever it takes, I’m there.”
Rico thumbed her nipple through the lace of her bra, but that wasn’t enough. He needed to feel that hard nub with his skin, his tongue. One sharp tug and the lace fell apart in his hand. “Your tits are fuckin’ fabulous.” He tossed her bra to the floor and rose to his knees between her legs. He palmed both of her breasts then skated his thumbs over the peaks.
Her breath hitched. Rico suspected Mary Beth liked the crude sex talk. Her next questions proved it.
“You like my tits, Rico? You like my nipples? Taste like candy, don’t they?”
He groaned, almost unable to get the words out. “Better.”
“You want to bite them, suck them?”
He’d already taken one in his mouth.
“Is that the way you’re going to fuck me too?”
He nodded, and teased and taunted the hard little peak.
She arched her back and wriggled beneath him. “Fuck me, Rico.” She cradled his jaws and brought his mouth back to hers for a ravenous kiss. “Condoms on the nightstand.”
He groaned and reared back. He grabbed one of the foil packets, ripped it open and slid the latex along his shaft.
His shirt sailed to the floor just as he pressed her legs open wider.
He slid his hands under her hips and lifted her almost off the bed, until her heels caught on his shoulders, and buried his face in her pussy. A small red tuft covered her mound, but she didn’t have any hair on her labia. In the flickering light of the candles, he saw her wet and swollen lips. Rico swallowed. “I’m going to eat you until you come so many times, you won’t even remember your name.” With that, he parted her folds and began long, slow licks from her clit to her anus.
She buried her fingers in his hair. “Rico!”
He suckled her clit and licked her again.
“Rico, now. Fuck me now. Please.”
He laughed, slid her knees from his shoulders and hooked them in the crook of his arms. “Only because you said please.” One thrust and he glided into her hot, weeping sheath.
“Oh yes!” Mary Beth dug her fingernails into his shoulders. “Mmmm, deeper, Rico, deeper.”
He shifted positions. Now each thrust brushed her clit.
“Right there. Oh yes, right there!”
God, she was so tight. Each thrust of his cock into her silky pussy sent a whiff of her scent to his nose. He watched the way the feminine lips gripped his shaft every time he pulled back, as if her body didn’t want to let him go.
“Harder, Rico.” She gripped his arms, her fingernails digging into his skin. “Fuck me faster.”
If she wanted faster, she’d get faster. He leaned over her body, her legs still hooked over his arms. Damp flesh slapped against damp flesh as he pumped into her. He buried his face in her neck, breathed in the subtle scent of her perfume…a light flowery fragrance that tightened his balls every time he inhaled. “Damn,” he groaned. “I don’t think—”
“Shut up and fuck me faster. Damn it, faster!”
Rico picked up the pace until he pounded into her. Sweat dripped off his face and pooled in the small of his back. Still he plunged his rod into her channel, again and again.
Mary Beth arched her back and wailed with pleasure. He continued to pound his cock into her pussy. With a final surge, he went rigid. He bit her shoulder and shuddered. “Fucking A!”
Chapter Nine
“Woo-hoo!”
Rico heard the exclamation when he walked through the back door of the café. He recognized Leandra as the one who had made all the noise.
“Synda!” she called out. “Syn, where are you? You’ve got to see this!”
Rico stepped up to the doorway of the small space off the kitchen the gals used for an office. “She tore outta here about ten minutes ago. Said she’d be back in half an hour.”
“Oh. No problem.” She smiled. “Then I’ll share my good news with you.” She waved him inside the office. “C’mere.”
Rico hesitated to step into the small space. Too many memories of small spaces.
That part of your life is over. You’re free now.
Rico took the chair beside Leandra’s desk. “What’s up?”
She turned the laptop toward him. “See this?” She pointed to the bottom rung of a brightly colored graph. “That’s where we started.” With her fingertip, she traced a jagged line upward—a few down spots, but always a quick recovery. “This is where we are today.”
She watched his gaze sweep over the numbers, once, twice and then back again. “You started showing a profit right there.” He pointed to a date two weeks prior to where Leandra indicated they’d turned the corner. “Not there.”
She rolled her chair closer to his for a better view of the screen. “No way. I’ve run these numbers several times.”
“Look here, and then at November. You transposed the amount. You’re doing better than you thought.”
“You’re right. How did you catch that with one look?”
“Rico’s Rule of Sevens.” He pointed to the two columns. “Any time a number’s off, and if it can be divided by seven, it’s probably a transposition.”
“Whoa.” Leandra leaned back in her chair, rested her chin on her palm and stared at him. “How did you come up with that?”
“Doesn’t matter. Change that forty-nine to twenty-one in column B, and you’ll see how much more you’ve earned.”
“I’m impressed, Rico. No pocket protector, but you’re a fellow numbers nerd.”
Heat spread across his face. “Not everyone in prison wants to be a jailhouse lawyer. I like numbers.”
“What did you do about it?”
“Got a degree in accounting.”
“What a godsend!” She clapped her hands. “At last, someone whose eyes won’t glaze over when I talk about this. I’m sure if you want
to find some accounting work here, there’d be a lot of folks who could use your help.”
He allowed himself a moment of hope before it quickly dissipated. “Yeah, like somebody’s going to put an ex-con in charge of their books. Especially someone with a cobra crawling up his neck or the rest of these.” He shoved his sleeves high, exposing the tattoos that covered his arms. “They helped me survive in prison. Now they’re going to keep me from having a life.”
“You’d be surprised, Rico. Body art’s hot right now. M.B. told me one of her clients got a couple of tats the other day. I know he’s looking for some part-time accounting help.”
“Who? Marty Trinidad?”
He couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice. It must have startled Leandra because she flinched. “Why yes. I didn’t know you’d met him.”
Rico stood and began pacing the small space. “I haven’t met him, but he’s all Mary…M.B. talks about.”
He saw her eyebrows shoot up, but Leandra’s voice never changed. “He’s one of Mary Beth’s clients.”
“He’s more than that. He gave her half the stuff in her house, and paid two hundred bucks for a glass of wine the other night.”
“He sent over a bottle, not a glass.”
“Bottle, glass. What the hell difference does it make? Motherfucker probably bought her that damn house too. No way she’d make that kind of bread up here.”
Leandra closed the accounting program and took Rico’s hand. She led him into the kitchen. There, she pushed him into a chair at the small table where she and Synda ate breakfast or snacks after closing. “Sit!”
He obeyed her as a child would obey his mother. He sat still and waited while she left the room. She returned a few minutes later with two Irish coffee cups and a bottle of brandy. She poured a generous shot of an aged Napoleon in each.
“You want to know about Marty? Here’s the story as I know it.” She blew across the top of the coffee to cool it before beginning. “Marty’s part of the Hollywood set. He started out as a stunt man. He was only fifteen. He’s a genuine tough guy.”
Rico slurped a sip of coffee, then added two teaspoons of sugar. “Yeah, so?”