by Quinn, Cari
Fuck, he loved those subtle little tugs as she lost control. He needed more of them.
Now.
“I’m going to recline all the way on this chaise, and you’re going to climb up on my face. And if anyone is taking pictures, I want you to make sure they hear you scream.”
Rather than denying him—and possibly asking if he’d lost the last of his sanity—she clasped the blanket around her shoulders. “Not going to do that through my panties,” she said, making him grin.
“Oh, I could. But for the sake of argument, you win.” He yanked them down her long, pale legs and tossed them on top of her jeans. Then he rose and sat on the chair, leaning back and pulling on the lever that controlled the incline. It was sturdily built, more than capable of holding both of them. He’d never been more grateful for springing for quality than that very moment.
Once he’d lowered the back, he waited, breathing so hard his lungs were starting to cramp.
She was a goddamn vision. Eyes darker than the clouds rolling in, freckled skin flushed pink, her hair nothing but a flame in the dying sun. He couldn’t do anything but hope to God she quickly put him out of his misery.
She moved up the chair and straddled his chest. Biting her lip, she hesitated.
“Uh-uh, Red. All the way. Don’t make me die of thirst.”
Without warning, she turned around, facing the other way. He was sure she’d changed her mind and was going to go inside, maybe leave his place entirely.
Instead, she grabbed his belt.
He started to tell her no. This wasn’t about him. He already knew they were taking a risk. As far as he was concerned, anyone could take pictures of them and plaster them all over the web. She wouldn’t see it the same way.
The blanket over her shoulders should be enough to disguise what was happening, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t protect her when he was on his back. Leave it to his dick to do the thinking the minute his brain vacated the premises.
And his dick always made very, very bad choices.
Shit, she’d already undone his jeans.
“Lift,” she murmured, and he did, because he was only a man. Just her using her hand on him would be enough to make him go crazy. Forget anything else.
She pushed his jeans and boxers down his legs, leaving them around his lower thighs like rope. Just one flex of his hips and her mouth was on him, exploring him without any of the reticence he would’ve expected. They were outside, and fuck, her pussy was too far away.
They’d have some tit for damn tat here.
He grabbed her hips and pulled back to his mouth, latching onto her swollen pink slit with a longing he couldn’t hold back. He’d been craving this taste for so long, since the first time he’d gotten a hint of it in the club, then again, when he’d gotten more in the break room. But that first night, drunk, half delirious, he’d been consumed with the desire to taste her. The reality had nearly killed him, but a long, slow lick from the source was enough to make his body shake from the force of his groan.
She wrapped her insanely strong fingers around his cock, squeezing until his breaths came short and he could only lick her on auto-pilot.
If he passed out between her legs, he’d be grateful for the rest of his life.
He knew she had to stretch to reach him, but greedily, he yanked her back even farther, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass. If he left marks this weekend, he’d kiss every one of them.
She cried out and he buried his face deeper between her thighs, making room for himself. She’d give up every drop willingly or he’d forcibly take them from her. Whatever tricks it took, he’d spend all night in this spot if necessary.
The whole world could watch them. Hell, might as well give them a show.
Sealing his lips around her clit, he sucked hard. Around his head, her legs trembled. Once, twice. Not nearly enough. With one hand, he probed her folds, and with the other still gripping her ass, he inched his fingers toward that tight pucker between her cheeks. She wasn’t expecting it. Didn’t know what to do when he started to slide inside. He could feel her resistance as distinctly as if she’d verbalized it, but he didn’t do anything but suck, and stroke, and slowly, slowly invade.
And when she cried out again, that long, low, hungry sound that reverberated against the mouth, he growled in response. “Mine.”
Almost as soon as he said it, she lifted, raising up above him like the nirvana he would never quite be worthy of reaching. Her tongue skated over the painful head of cock before traveling lower, along the side where his veins pulsed. She grazed the length of one right to the base, bouncing her pussy above his mouth just high enough he couldn’t close the distance. But she gave him her own kind of gift, one he could barely make out thanks to the disappearing sun. Tiny pearlescent drops of arousal clung to her lower lips, on the verge of falling free, and he strained toward her, finally clamping his hands around her thighs and slamming her back down on his face.
Hell yes.
This time, he didn’t hold back anything. He pushed a finger deep inside her while he worked her clit, earning every bit of her moisture. She wouldn’t deny him again. Even if that meant his aching cock bobbed free with only the uneven swipes of her fingers to stoke the fire in his belly higher. He didn’t need even that much. Just his mouth closed around her silky cleft while she pulsed through an orgasm would be enough to get him there.
He teased her between her cheeks again, not entering her this time. When he did that the next time, he’d have lube to make it easier for him to take her there like she was taking his finger inside her pussy. One finger, two. Three. He thrust them inside her and she clenched around them, riding his face just the way he’d dreamed. She was so wet. So hot. He slid his arm around her front to rub her clit, fast and hard, while he stroked his tongue inside her, relishing every flutter of her pussy. She was going to come.
Finally, she’d soak his fucking face.
Yet again she darted forward, leaving him hanging as she gripped his erection in her hand and brought him to her mouth. He wasn’t supposed to come first. Shouldn’t have even been that close. But she scooped out the wetness in the little slit on the head of his cock, and that was all it took. Her fingers tightened and her tongue flicked over the swollen head, and he couldn’t do anything except turn his head to bite the back of her thigh along the crease where it met her perfect ass. His hips rose, driving him between her lips, and she didn’t shy away. She took him deeper, making the most seductive little noises in her throat while he emptied. Extending his orgasm almost to the point of pain.
Mindlessly, he bit her again, on the other thigh. She yelped around his still draining dick, which shouldn’t have made him laugh but so freaking did.
He was still laughing and still breathless from what she’d done to him when he hauled her back on to his mouth. He buried his tongue inside her again, and he clamped his arm around her hips to make sure she wasn’t getting away.
Not this time. She was going to drench his goddamn chin.
Circling her clit, he rubbed her until she bore down against him. Rocking against him and clamoring for more in high, thin cries that reached him even where he was nestled between her thighs. The roar in his ears grew louder, and it didn’t even matter that the last trickles of his release had been spent on his belly. This was her moment, and he hurtled toward it with her, yearning for the release as if it were his own.
“C’mon, Red,” he rasped against her folds in between lengthy swipes of his tongue. He never let up the pressure on the plump little bud under his fingers. He wouldn’t settle for some mild little O.
She was going to frigging scream, or he’d be out there all night, eating her until he died from oxygen deprivation.
Her legs shook around his head and she arched, lifting up for a fraction of a moment before she grinded onto his face. He growled against her and unwound the last scrap of her control, sucking her so hard that she had no choice but to break apart. Her wetness
flooded his lips and he swallowed every drop, savoring the moans that shuddered through her body.
Once she’d ridden her climax to its end, he grasped her hip to steady her trembles and threw back his head to breathe.
And smiled up at the sky where the stars had begun to emerge from the clouds.
Her blanket dipped toward his nose and mouth as she sagged to his chest. He chuckled and sat up, sliding her down so that she plopped on his lap. His arms encircled her still quivering body, and he kissed the side of her neck until she let out a weak moan.
“I didn’t—I’ve never…” She exhaled. “Outside.”
“Yeah. The free show is over for tonight.” After he jockeyed her enough to pull up his boxers and jeans, he clutched her hand between her breasts. “In my bed, Red. Now.”
She gave him an incredulous look. “You can’t go again.”
“Twenty-three, baby. I can go until you can’t walk.” When she scoffed, he scooped her up and stood, bobbling her in his hold. “Whoa, O legs. Good job.”
Her giggle was the sweetest music he’d ever heard. Not his guitar, when he was rocking out during an incredible show. Not when he was nailing it during practice, or jamming during a Slayers’ concert.
She outstripped all of them effortlessly.
Stumbling a little, he carted her down the hall to his bedroom and dumped her on the mattress. He shed his jeans and boxers and joined her on the bed, his intent clear. She squealed out a laugh as he grabbed her leg and wrapped it around his hip, already prepared to go for it when reality descended.
Bare cock. Bare pussy. Dancing eyes that flashed up to his and slowly lowered as her anticipation bled away.
He kissed her to keep from saying the obvious.
No condom, can’t do it.
Of course he had some in the nightstand, but the moment had been lost. The specter of real life had blown up between them like a ticking bomb.
Her kisses tasted like him. He’d come in her mouth, and she’d taken every drop, just as he had. She whimpered and he knew she’d tasted herself too. Her tongue twined around his and he fisted his hands in her hair, loving that she was finally on his pillows. In his bed, in his apartment.
His.
Truthfully, there was no finally to it. A week ago, he’d barely known who she was. But lifetimes could pass in an hour with her.
“Let me go grab your clothes off the deck,” he murmured in between kisses.
She started to argue, then she turned her head away. “Stupid reporters. What do they do, hang out of helicopters?”
“Sometimes.” He’d seen much worse things when it came to his father and his bevy of women. Money made the paps salivate just like it did everyone else. “Just in case. If they saw us, so be it. If they didn’t, well, might as well tidy up the evidence of a very good,” he glanced at his alarm clock, “hour. Shit, really?”
Again that giggle, although he would’ve sworn it was sleepier this time. “You were thorough.”
“So were you, Mrs. Shawcross. O legs, remember? A favor I intend to return.”
For once, she didn’t jolt at the name, just smiled up at him with unfocused eyes. “You didn’t let me walk in here, but trust me, I have them. If they’re still attached.”
He grinned and gave her another quick kiss. “Be right back.”
“’Kay.”
Jogging out to the deck, he gathered up her clothes and took a quick glance at the surrounding buildings. He didn’t see any telephoto lenses trained on his floor, so maybe they’d gotten lucky.
He grinned again. Oh, they so had.
On the way back to Chloe, he stopped off in the bathroom to wash up and take care of business. He’d neglected to put his jeans back on for his trip outside, but eh. He didn’t have anything to hide.
After grabbing the two Dr. Peppers he’d left on the coffee table along with the hopefully not stale cookies, he returned to the bedroom. And found Chloe curled up in the center of the bed, mostly asleep.
He set down her clothes and their snack, then leaned over to kiss her shoulder. She stirred immediately. “Michael?”
“Yeah. Go ahead and rest.”
“Can’t.” Her voice was fuzzy enough to let him know for certain that she already had been. Damn, she’d gone out quickly. Probably exhausted. “Gotta tell you. Lost—lost my job. And my…my place. I lost it all.”
Swallowing hard—and more than a little certain she’d regret being so forthright once she awakened—he crawled into the sheets behind her and drew her into his arms. “Don’t worry about any of that now.” He pressed a kiss to her silky, cinnamon-scented hair. “Sleep, Red.”
“Gotta…gotta call Axl soon. Before bed.”
“I’ll wake you up soon, I promise. Just a little nap.”
“’Kay.” Her softly slurred voice made him close his eyes too.
She filled his arms so perfectly. Just like the night they’d gotten married.
The memory of the last time he’d gone to sleep like this with her tried to tickle the back of his brain, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. Too tired. His body was too warm and relaxed. She’d worn him out in the very best way.
He tightened his embrace and smiled against her hair. She was back in his arms, right where she belonged. And he wasn’t letting go.
Twenty-Four
Chloe woke to a furnace behind her and a hand on her boob.
Again.
The recall was swift and immediate enough that she almost kicked out just as she had done that fateful morning. Instead, she only moved suddenly enough to clip his jaw.
Michael groaned and cupped the side of his mouth. “Oh, fuck. Is this going to be a thing? Mortal Kombat at dawn?”
She snorted and turned in his arms. The tickle of chest hair against her nipples dissolved the giggle on her tongue.
He leaned toward her, then backed away before he kissed her. “I’m not going to get bit or something, right?”
“Depends on your level of dragon breath.”
He rolled his tongue over his teeth. “Not bad.” He pursed his lips. “Maybe. Guess you’ll have to give it a try.”
She couldn’t stop the laugh this time. The kiss was soft and sweet, not the engulfing pyrotechnics of last night. She wasn’t sure she could take that so early in the… “Oh, shit.”
He licked his lips. “It’s not that bad.”
She pushed him back. “No. Oh, crap. I didn’t call Axl last night.” She motioned to the window. “It’s already…I don’t even know what time it is.” She scrambled off the bed. “And where are my clothes?”
He sat up in the middle of the lake-sized bed. “On the chair.”
“No, clean clothes. My bag.”
“Oh, uh…” He looked around, then hopped off the bed. All six-glorious-feet of naked male.
She shook her head. Axl was the focus, not all of…him.
God, she was a terrible mother. How could she have blinked out like that?
She turned a full circle and finally spotted her jeans on a chair near the window. Without curtains, because why would this man-child have curtains? He probably didn’t even have matching dishes. What the hell was she thinking?
She spotted a folded T-shirt on top of a pile of laundry and quickly put it on. She did not need some crazy high powered lens taking pictures of her mom body. She’d been lucky enough that her good genes had helped her bounce back after having Axl. That and walking everywhere kept her body trim and strong. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time in her day to do things like Pilates and yoga like all the women with their tight little bodies these days.
Finally, she found her jeans and got her phone out of her pocket. Two missed calls. She curled her fingers around the phone and tapped it against her forehead. Bad mom. She blew out a breathy groan as she noticed the time. Seven.
She quickly dialed Lori, who picked up on the second ring. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. He and Shelby passed out watching Finding Nemo. Everyt
hing’s just fine.”
Chloe collapsed onto the edge of the bed. “It was the worst day ever yesterday.”
“I can’t believe that rat bastard evicted you.”
Chloe flopped back on the bed lengthwise and let her head hang off the side. It was rather nice to have so much room to stretch out. Her twin bed definitely didn’t rate against this bit of indulgence. “I can.”
Michael set her bag beside the bed. He gave her a look, then glanced down at his lengthening erection. “We’ll try that position later.”
She rolled her eyes at him. Seriously, he only thought with that thing. She ignored the fact that her body fluttered in reaction. Taking him in her mouth last night had been far more exciting than it should have been.
Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed giving a man a blow job. Then again, Michael had been very focused on her. She barely remembered if she’d managed to pleasure him. His taste flooding her mouth was proof that he’d enjoyed himself, but most men could get off easily.
More easily than she could anyway.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t had a satisfying sex life before Michael, but…
Yeah, well but.
Not the same. Not at all the same, which also worried her. What exactly did they have when the sex faded? Because sexual afterglow always faded.
“Where are you? Who’s that?”
She shook off that line of thought. It sure as heck wasn’t helping her right now. “I’m with Michael.”
“Ohh.”
“Don’t get excited.”
“I do believe I overheard something about a position. I expect details, because I’m living vicariously through you.”
“David will be home soon.”
Lori sighed. “Not soon enough. Now that you’re not here, I’m thinking about going back to base housing.”
“You hate the base.”
“I know, but the neighborhood is getting worse. You were really the only thing keeping me here.”
Chloe flipped over onto her stomach. “I don’t know that this will be permanent. I could be right around the corner again in a week.”