Pick Me (Reality TV Romance)

by Mason, Kristine

  “You’re ass is sweet,” he said against her skin. “But what’s underneath here is delicious.” Snagging her gaze, he slid her panties over her hips and around her ankles until she was completely naked except for her heels. His eyes glittered under the low lighting in the living room. He held her gaze and ran his tongue along her thigh. Nibbling, teasing, and driving her insane with need. When he reached her dark curls again, he drew in a deep breath, his release burning a hot path along her sensitive skin. Then he darted his tongue. She gripped his head, welcoming him, urging him to take whatever he wanted.

  Instead, he took his time. A little nip here, a soft kiss there. His fingers, his rough palms, caressing, but not invading. Touching, lingering, but not penetrating. His barely there kisses driving her wild. “Colt,” she whispered, and tugged on his hair.

  “Am I going too slow for you?” He looked up at her, and she swore she’d never seen anything sexier. His eyes had turned a midnight blue, and held more emotion, more passion than she’d ever seen in another man’s eyes.

  “Yes,” she hissed, and nudged him closer to where his mouth belonged—between her thighs.

  He held his head still, a half grin tilting the corner of his lips. “Is this what you want?” He darted his tongue and she shuttered when he gave her labia a long, slow lick. “Or is it this?” Gripping her rear, he suckled her clit and she nearly screamed his name. Then he stopped.

  “Colt,” she begged, so close to the sweetest orgasm.

  With regret, Colt took one last look at paradise, then stood. While he hadn’t wanted to stop, he’d sworn the next time they had sex it would be on a bed. He wanted to hold her, make love to her, not fuck her on the floor. Even before she’d told him about that prick, Jonas, he had hoped tonight would be...special. He wanted to remind her of the intimacy they’d once shared, give her all the more reason to stick around for a while. “The bedroom.”

  Her dark eyes flashed with panic, just like the last time he’d suggest the bedroom. “No,” she said, with challenge in her voice.

  Her beautiful breasts rose and fell, distracting him. He’d told her she had a sweet ass. That what lay beneath her panties was delicious, but damn if he wasn’t a sucker for gorgeous tits. Hers were perfect, round and full, her nipples reminding him of her sweet scent...strawberries.

  After looking his fill, he didn’t care whether they’d come together on the bed or on the floor, as long as he made her come. He loved the sounds she made, loved the way she held his eyes when the passion consumed her. And he wanted to see that look now.

  Holding her gaze, he ran his finger in a straight line. From the dark curls between her thighs, up her flat stomach, between her gorgeous breasts, until he reached her chin. “What do you want?” he asked, needing to know. She was dating two other guys, and as selfish, as irrational, and as insecure as it seemed, he needed to hear her say only one, simple word. Especially after learning about those spy cams, he didn’t want anyone but him touching her.

  “You.”

  Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he smiled. “I want you too. So what do you think we should do about that?”

  She went to work, pulling his t-shirt from his jeans, then sliding it up his torso and over his head. After she tossed it aside, she kissed his chest, and grazed her short nails across his nipples, then chuckled, her warm breath fanning across his heated skin. “I thought my goose bumps were bad,” she said, and ran her palm along his torso. “Did you know the definition for goose bumps is skin erection?” She glided her hand over his belt buckle until she reached his erection. Through the denim, she squeezed his cock like he’d shown her yesterday.

  “Interesting,” he said, unable to concentrate on anything but her small hand, and the way her nipples grazed his chest.

  “Not really,” she said, and unzipped his fly, “but I think this is.”

  Before she could continue with her sensual torture, he stepped back, quickly shucked his boots and jeans off, then wrapped his hands around her waist. He drew her close, and even with those sexy heels of hers, she was still a bitty thing. Grinning, he ran the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip.

  “What are you smiling about?” she asked with a smile of her own.

  He cupped her cheeks with both hands. “Valentina Maria Teresa Bonasera. Do you think your parents gave you such a big name to make up for your size?”

  Laughing, she laid her hands over his, then kissed the inside of his palm. “That’s the second time you’ve brought this up. Does my pint size bother you?”

  “No, but I do worry.” He let her kiss his other palm, when really all he wanted to do was crush her against his body, haul her to the floor and bury himself between her thighs. Every time he was near her he had an animalistic urge to make her his.

  “Worry over what?” she asked, then drew his thumb into her mouth, sucking it like she’d sucked his cock yesterday in the woods.

  Trying desperately to stay focused, before he did haul her sweet body to the floor, he sifted his other hand through her hair, twisted it around his wrist, and gave her a gentle jerk. She widened her eyes, her tongue poised at the tip of his thumb. “Even in those sexy heels I stand a good foot taller than you, and I probably out-weigh you by a hundred pounds.”

  He gave her hair another gentle tug, came nose to nose with her. She licked her lips, and her eyes grew impossibly darker. “I like sex hot and rough, and tend to be a demanding and dominating lover. I’ve tried to take it slow, to be gentle, but every time I’m near you...I worry that...”

  “You’d hurt me?” she asked, then kissed his thumb.

  She’d read his mind. “Yeah,” he admitted on a deep exhale.

  She stared at him for a second, and he worried his admission might have turned her off, then she bit his thumb. Not hard, but enough to make it throb, and his cock to throb even more.

  “Does that help?” She pressed a gentle kiss to his thumb. “Because if it doesn’t, I’m sure I can find other ways to make you realize that just because I’m small, I won’t break. Uh-uh,” she grunted before he could answer. “I know you’d never hurt me.” She moved his hand to her breast, covered it with her own, then squeezed. “Let yourself go.” She leaned forward and nipped his lower lip. “Let me see the real you.”

  With his hand still covering her breast, and the other in her hair, he drew her lips closer, but kept his eyes on hers. “Will this be the real you, too? Or what you think I want?” He had to know. He wanted her, every part—mind and body, and maybe even soul. That thought concerned him because she could quite possibly hurt him, not necessarily physically—although she had a mean bite—but emotionally. He wanted her. He liked her. Hell, she made him crazy with all sorts of thoughts. Monogamy. Commitment.

  She tilted her lips. “Whenever we’re together like this it will always be the real me.” Then she captured his mouth in a searing kiss that had him forgetting everything and anything but being skin to skin with his beautiful Valentina.

  With fevered touches and tugs, they both dropped to the floor. He wanted a bed, but at this point, he didn’t give a shit. He had her in his arms. Ready and willing for whatever he had in mind. “Climb on top of me,” he said, fighting for air in his lungs.

  She poised herself along his stomach, her damp heat slick against him. “Like this?”

  “No, turn around and scoot toward my face.”

  Her eyes widened for a second, then she sent him a small, sexy smile and did as he asked, positioning her thighs over his eager mouth. The sight of her spread open and glistening with desire had his cock pulsing. Gripping her rear, he lowered her to his lips, breathed in her scent before lashing his tongue across her swollen lips.

  She released a soft moan, and sagged onto her forearms, her heavy pants caressing his cock right before she drew him into her mouth. Their simultaneous groans echoed throughout the living room as he speared his tongue between her lips while she worked him with her warm mouth. He loved this positi
on, loved that she loved it, too. Not the same as sex, but to him, it was almost better. So intimate and hot, he could feast on her all night. Unfortunately, with the way she licked and sucked him, he didn’t think he’d last for more than a few more minutes, and he needed to make her come first.

  Pouring all his concentration on her, trying desperately to ignore her skillful mouth, and the way she rolled his testicles, he spread her cheeks and honed in on her clit. Darted his tongue, then sucked.

  She released him and arched her back, her fingers digging into his chest as she rode his mouth. Knowing she was close, eager to taste her orgasm, he worked his tongue across her clit at a frenzied pace. Beneath his palms, her rear clenched. Her thighs grew tense, and her nails dug deeper into his chest, the pain an absolute pleasure. Then she came, moaned his name, while her body tensed and shook at the same time.

  If only he could see her face. He loved how dark and dazed her eyes grew at the point of orgasm, the way her mouth parted and she sometimes sank her teeth into her lower lip. But there was still time for that. He’d taken her from behind yesterday only because, logistically, there was no other way. When he spread her legs tonight, he’d make sure they were face to face. He wanted her to look at him, to make an imprint on her memory, to be a constant reminder of what they were together.

  She raised her bottom, swiveled her body, then slid down the length of him until her damp sex brushed his cock. Her cheeks glowed and her eyes glittered as she sent him the sexiest smile. “That was...wow,” she said on a sigh, then frowned. “Oh my gosh, Colt.”

  He raised his head off the carpet and looked to where she stared. Ten nail marks tattooed his pecs, some of them dotting with little beads of blood. With a satisfied smile, he tipped her chin. “I guess you made your mark.”

  With a deep frown creasing her forehead, she looked back to the cuts. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know...I was just so caught up...I think I have bandages and ointment in the bathroom. Let me go check.”

  He did a quick alligator roll and pinned her to the carpet with his weight, then captured her wrists above her head. “I doubt I’ll bleed to death. Besides, I need to see you come again.”

  “No, it’s your turn. I already did, thank you very much,” she said with a satisfied grin.

  “I’ll get there, don’t you worry, but this time I want to watch as your orgasm rips through your body.” He nudged her legs apart, and while still keeping her arms pinned with one hand, he pressed the other to the floor to brace himself, then raised his hips. “You have no idea how beautiful you look when you hit your peak.” He pressed the head of his erection between her thighs. Her wetness coated him, invited him, and unable to hold back another second, he slammed into her.

  She gasped, then closed her eyes. He held himself still, stared at her flushed face, a face he’d imagined and fantasized about for six long months. Even though she was here, in the flesh, surrounding his cock with her heat, the moment seemed surreal. As if he’d wake up from another wet dream with only his memories of her. She clenched her inner muscles around his erection, reminding him that this was no dream.

  “Open your eyes,” he demanded, needing to see their dark depths. She did, and the intense desire nearly blew him away, while a possessiveness he’d never experienced rushed over him. There was no way in hell he’d allow that sick prick Jonas to capture this...her, on film. He’d ruin the bastard if he even tried. Shoving those thoughts aside for later, when he’d formulate a plan to take care of Jonas and his ridiculous threats, he leaned down and brushed his lips across her nipple.

  With a breathy groan, she pulled at his hand holding her wrists, raised her head and watched as he teased the hardened tip with his tongue. Her breathing grew labored as he circled the areola, then he blew across the tip.

  She fought to move her wrists again, but he held them against the carpet, then moved to her other nipple and gave it the same attention. She writhed and moaned, wriggled her hips, then stopped. He looked at her, his tongue a fraction of a centimeter from her distended nipple. “What do you need, baby?” he said against her breast.

  Raising her head again, she looked directly into his eyes. “Suck them,” she demanded.

  With a growl, he latched onto her nipple, sucked hard until she moaned. By the time he’d reached the other, she was bucking her hips against him. He knew her frustrations, because he was purposefully frustrating himself. Letting the moment draw out, teasing her, and himself, building the passion.

  But he could only hold out for so long, especially with the way she kept clenching her inner muscles around his cock. Releasing her wet nipple, he pulled his hips back, then slammed into her.

  “More,” she groaned. “I need more.”

  Her throaty pleas had his balls tightening. Releasing her wrists, he caught her knees, pulled out of her heat, then pounded himself between her thighs. She met each thrust, running her hands over his chest, grazing her nails along his nipples. Damn, he was so close, but he needed her to go over the edge with him.

  “Rub your clit,” he said.

  She widened her eyes, then ran a tentative hand over her breasts, down her stomach until she reached her curls. Dropping her gaze to where they were joined, she licked her lips, then stroked herself. He’d never seen anything hotter than watching his cock slide between her slick, swollen lips while she rubbed herself. Unable to stop himself, he thrust harder, deeper. Raised his head and watched her face, waiting for the moment she’d fall over the edge with him.

  Then it came. Her entire body shuddered. She gripped his ass with both hands and pushed him impossibly deeper. As she arched her back, a serene contentment crossed her face and deepened the flush on her cheeks. In a rush, he joined her. Grunted his release and spilled his passion into her body.

  As the last tremors of their joint orgasms subsided, he collapsed on top of her. Worried his weight would hurt her, he forced his sated body to roll, and took her with him. She laid her cheek against his chest. Her arms were above his head, her hands stroking his hair, while her leg sprawled along his spent erection.

  While he tried to regain control of his breathing and accelerated heart, he caressed her back and drew her closer, kissing the top of her head. For the second time in his life, he knew what it meant to find true contentment. The problem was that both times included Valentina. She’d run from him in Denver, something he still needed to ask her about, but the bigger problem was now. She’d already warned him this wouldn’t last. That she’d be gone, back to Chicago when the show ended. After tonight, he was bound and determined to change her mind.

  What he’d just experienced with Valentina went way beyond sex.

  Chapter 7

  Valentina settled onto the stiff sofa across from Pick Me’s host Shepp McCord and glanced around the stage. The crew had created an intimate setting for the dreaded “dating diary,” where she’d tell her version of the dates she’d had with all three bachelors, and then what she’d thought of each guy.

  While she’d known about the dating diary, she’d hoped she could talk Jonas and Derek out of it. No such luck. Now she had to ramble on about the men and the dates. Fortunately she only had to do this a few times a week, the day after a round of dates with each bachelor. The guys had it easier. They only had to describe their one date, and had done so right after the date ended.

  “What’s the hold up?” Jonas yelled from across the stage. “I thought I told you people I wanted this set ready to roll thirty minutes ago.”

  “Give them a break,” Danny shouted back as he came toward the set from the opposite direction. “You know damn well that the prefab set we use for the show came in damaged. These guys have been busting their butts all night to fix it.”

  Jonas huffed as he stomped toward Danny. “I don’t want to hear any bullshit excuses. Time is money, and we’re wasting a lot of both.”

  “Then you should have been here last night helping,” Danny countered, his cheeks flaming red.

  Wow. She
could understand why Danny was angry, but she couldn’t believe he’d actually stood up to Jonas. He and everyone else normally walked on egg shells whenever Jonas was around, worried they’d be the brunt of his next tirade. Although she didn’t like how things were already starting this morning, at least Jonas’ ire was directed elsewhere. She only hoped she could escape the studio without having to talk to him alone. His threats were becoming worse.

  “We’re ready,” Paul, a fifty-something crew member, interjected as he wiped the sweat from his brow with his equally sweaty t-shirt.

  Jonas narrowed his eyes at Danny, who held his gaze with defiance, before turning his attention to her and Shepp. He pinned her with a glare of disdain. “Goldie,” he barked. “Do something with Val, she looks like shit.”

  Valentina straightened her spine, ready to throw a barb back at him, but Goldie blocked her view of the bald-headed jerk.

  “You look fine,” Goldie whispered, and powdered Valentina’s cheeks. “A little dark under the eyes, but hell, I’d be exhausted if I had to date all those hunky guys, too.” She gave her an encouraging smile, and fluffed her hair. “I like you better with the curls.” Then she turned and ran off the stage.

  Colt liked her hair curly, too, which was a good thing. No amount of goop or flat ironing worked under the duress of Dallas’s high humidity. As for the dark circles under her eyes, well, that was Colt’s fault, not that she minded. He’d come to her apartment again last night, after her date with Brad, surprising her, like he’d done the night before. Both nights they’d stayed up until about three in the morning, talking, fooling around, and watching reruns or old movies.

  He’d never stayed the whole night, but she suspected he would have if she’d asked. But she hadn’t, and didn’t plan to. Spending time with him, that didn’t involve just sex, was making her crazy. It amazed her how quickly she could feel so comfortable around him, and she’d found it difficult to not blather the truth about the show. Not yet, though, maybe not ever. He seemed to hold her with such high esteem, she couldn’t fathom seeing the hurt or disappointment in his eyes when he learned the truth.