by Lindsey Hart
She didn’t tell him that mood lighting was for pussies and that this wasn’t romantic, and it wasn’t going to happen, because them and romance didn’t mingle. She didn’t tell him that she had no plans on giving in to his stupid seduction and that it was all bribery what he was doing and that she was going to walk out that door, flip him the bird, and be done with him.
She didn’t say any of those things and she didn’t move.
She fought for an ounce of better judgment, for even a small shred of resistance, and came up empty. She tried to reassemble her walls, to count all the reasons that being in Jesse’s bedroom with him, alone, was a bad idea, but all she could find inside of her heart was the yawning, gaping hole that leaving him behind created. Seeing him again, being so close to him, all of it- it ripped open that hole until it was aching and bleeding, a hole that only he could stitch back up, even if he shredded her in the process.
So no, she couldn’t find a single insult to throw at him. She couldn’t force herself not to want him. To want everything she’d denied herself for the better part of her life. She couldn’t make her tongue respond to the words she wanted it to form.
Because there was no way she actually wanted to tell him to stop.
Not even when he stood in front of her and started to unbutton his shirt.
CHAPTER 13
Jesse
It shouldn’t be this easy.
He kept thinking it the entire time he carried Syd down the hall to his room. When he set her on the bed. When he dimmed the lights and started to work the buttons on his shirt loose.
He took his time, when what he really wanted to do was tear the stupid shirt off in a superhuman like move, rain down buttons all over the floor, and shed the tattered fabric. He purposely slowed his fingers as he locked eyes with Syd, giving her time to change her mind.
Just because she stared back at him with big, doe-like eyes, heavy lidded eyes with the pupils completely blown, didn’t mean that she was going to let him win. Just because she wasn’t fighting back didn’t mean that all the fight was gone out of her. She could just as easily kick him in the face when he bent down to strip off her sweats as she smiled up at him invitingly.
Because this was Syd. She was full of surprises. Full of spirit. Full of piss and vinegar. This was the girl who could outwrestle any guy in high school, who wasn’t afraid of getting dirty, who went with a group of guys to the gravel pits out of town and jumped Jason Patrick’s stupid quad while all the guys, including him, watched on, astounded. This was the girl who used to do funny impressions with her voice of all the teachers she didn’t like, sometimes right behind their backs in class, in lowered tones. This was the girl who almost set the science lab on fire because she was too busy farting around with chemicals to actually worry about being safe. This was Syd. Syd who always jumped off the tall diving board. Syd, who laughed at the scary scenes in horror movies. Syd who wasn’t afraid of the dark. Syd who’d stand outside in the rain like she didn’t give a shit she was getting wet. Syd who raised her head and stared life down, who flipped it the double bird when she didn’t agree with it.
Syd didn’t just admit defeat.
So, either she wanted this, or she was luring him in for a swift kick in the balls.
He slowly stripped off his shirt, waiting for her to jump off the bed, stick out her tongue, and tell him to go fuck himself. He slowly worked his pants off, leaving his boxers on, because he liked his baby makers too much to chance flashing them and shocking her out of the stupor she appeared to be in. He didn’t want her to rear up and plant her heel right between his legs. That would seriously hinder his mother’s hopes for a grandchild and while he didn’t want to indulge her any time soon, he also liked leaving that possibility open.
His pants hit the floor and Syd just- just laid there. Staring up at him, her eyes glistening, shining with heat and hunger, her lips parted, little raspy breaths escaping their lush fullness.
She wasn’t drunk.
She didn’t have any excuses to want him.
Jesse tensed, waiting. Waiting for her to give him a sign, because the way she was acting… it wasn’t like Syd at all. It confused the hell out of him.
Slowly, so very slowly, she shifted on the bed, letting her legs fall open.
And fuck. He was thirty-two years old and he’d been waiting his entire life for this. For that invitation. It was worse, because he’d been haunted by the memories of the night they’d spent together, for the past ten years.
Something in his brain short circuited and he just- lost it.
As sexy as his sweats were on Syd, they’d be sexier off.
She seemed to think so too, because when he curled his hands into the fabric pooling at her ankles and tugged, she lifted her hips off the bed, her hands flying down frantically to help him. She clawed at them the same time he did, and between the two of them, he managed to tug and she managed to kick and writhe and finally, those bastard sweats ended up on the floor in a rumpled heap right next to his clothes.
Right where they belonged.
He stared down at Sydney and he had to force a hard swallow because his throat had suddenly closed up at the sight of her shapely, creamy legs on full display. Syd was more of a pants wearing girl. She hated skirts and dresses and even shorts. She rarely wore anything that showed her legs. She’d once said it was because she hated bug bites, itching herself raw all summer, and he’d believed her.
After staring at her legs, though, he decided it was a crime. Bugs should be outlawed, banned from their state, because Syd’s legs, they were meant to be on display. Long and shapely, slender and full in all the right places. They were athletic legs, thicker calves that curled sweetly around her shin bones and bunched higher up. He wanted to run his tongue there, to lift her leg and taste her behind her knees, up, up over her creamy thighs.
He was so damn hard that his tight boxers were a tent they could both freaking camp out in. And when his eyes continued up the rest of the way, to her yellow cotton panties- he was done. Moisture flooded his mouth, a sharp spurt over his tongue like he was about to open a bag of salt and vinegar chips. Except she wasn’t chips. God, she was so much better. And those panties… they were light, so light around the edges, but in the center, they were a darker hue, where her wetness had soaked them.
All the wetness disappeared from his mouth and it suddenly went bone dry.
“Those panties are a sin,” he managed to grind out.
A line creased on Syd’s perfect forehead. “Yeah? Because they’re not your brand?”
“Hell no. Because they’re still on.” He shook his head so hard it felt like it was going to break off his neck. She smiled up at him, a lazy smile that spread over her lips that let him know she knew damn well what she was doing to him.
Or- or maybe she didn’t. Because behind the natural confidence in that smile, there was a shadow of something else. Fear? Regret?
“I- we can… we don’t have to-”
Her eyes darkened and she blinked slowly, lazily.
If he was suddenly struck down five minutes from now, he was going to die a happy man, because Syd, who never tore her eyes from his face, hooked her fingers into the waistband of those panties and slowly slid them down her legs. She shifted and wriggled in ways that shouldn’t have been sexy, but were completely steaming hot, and threw them on the floor.
Damn. She’d changed things up a bit since college.
She was completely bare, perfectly proportioned, and glistening wet for him.
It wasn’t just that night that haunted him. It was all the details he couldn’t erase from his mind. Her scent. Her taste. The feel of her clenching right around his cock.
God. He had to put the brakes on the deluge of mental images, or he was going to have some premature issues going on south of the belt.
She looked up at him, blinking slowly again, purposefully, and spread her legs just a little wider. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it was such an abru
pt change from the way she’d walked into his house that it floored him. He’d wonder if she was just playing with him, but he knew there was no way she’d be that cruel.
The whipped cream explosion was just a happy accident, and now she was sprawled out on his bed, as turned on as he was. She might be able to fake a lot of things, but she couldn’t fake that wetness glistening on her bare sex.
“Do you think I taste as good as that whipped cream you licked off me?” she purred.
Holy shit. She was going to drive him insane. How the hell could this be the same protesting Syd in the kitchen? Unless she figured, shit, she might as well give it a try. Unless she was finally lowering her defenses and letting him in. She could be. Syd was unpredictable. Mercurial like summer weather. Maybe it was one of those, if you can’t fight it, join it moments.
Honestly, Jesse couldn’t figure it out, but he was done thinking. He was done trying to reason and rationalize his way out of it.
He spread himself out over the bed, hooking his hands underneath Syd’s legs. She let her head fall back against the pillow, her hair splaying out in all directions. He noticed that there was still a glob of whipped cream that he’d missed.
He trailed hot kisses up her thigh, savoring the taste of her skin. She was fresh from the shower, with the hint of his body wash still clinging to her satin skin. Just that kiss nearly sent him over the edge. His whole body tensed up, but he managed to keep kissing and tasting his way up her thigh.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled against her skin as he nipped her gently.
Syd arched up into him. Her hands tangled in his short hair. Her fingers tugged and scraped against his scalp, creating a burn that settled straight in his groin.
“I remember exactly the way you taste and it’s a hell of a lot better than shitty whipped cream. Although, I liked it a lot better licked off you than I ever have.”
She made a strangled noise in her throat and her hips arched upwards at the same time she tugged his face to her. Hard. “Shut up and do this already.”
He blinked up at her, innocently. “Do what?”
“I’m going to kill you,” she panted, digging her nails in harder. They were so short though, that they did little damage.
“Murder isn’t exactly legal.”
“I don’t care. I’ll stuff your body in the basement. No one will ever find you. This place is so fucking huge, the search parties will get lost. They’ll get distracted in the shower, it’s so crazy excessive.”
“Maybe we’ll get distracted in the shower later.”
“Arghmph…” her answer comes out completely non-coherent, and yeah, he got it. Big time. He pretty much felt the same way.
That time, when her nails dug into his scalp and she tugged his face into her, he didn’t resist.
CHAPTER 14
Sydney
Oh holy Swiss cheese, didn't even begin to describe that first second, that first touch, that first kiss and caress. And when Jesse bent his head and placed an open-mouthed kiss straight between her legs… the pleasure that rocketed through her was so intense that she nearly jacked right off the bed. Her hips slammed up into his face because she couldn’t stop them. She couldn’t stop the gasp that tore from her throat or the whimper, or the way her fingers curled brutally into his scalp, dragging him forward.
She should have regrets.
She should be shoving his head away and scrambling after those sweats and her panties.
She should be concentrating on how to get the hell out of his house and fix the mess she’d dug herself into with a fucking backhoe.
She should have, but the only thoughts running through her head were how to spread her legs wider and how to direct Jesse to apply just the right amount of pressure on her aching clit.
Sydney didn’t even have to guide him. He used his tongue and lips and teeth in perfect tandem. The sensations ripping through her were so intense that it wiped every other thought out of her head. Of what should be and shouldn’t have been and blah, blah, blah. She wasn’t thinking about that. All she was thinking about was Jesse.
And what he was doing to her.
And god, it felt so amazingly good.
He stroked his index finger over her swollen folds as he blew out a breath that was warm and cold at the same time and sent a flurry of shivers up her spine. Her skin erupted in goosebumps. And then… good lord, and then he used his finger, soaked in her juices, to graze over her clit.
He circled her there, slow, confident, lazy circles that turned her insides into a raging pile of molten lava like mush.
His other hand slipped around her hips and cupped her ass, lifting her into his face. He kneaded his fingers into the tender skin of her bottom, while he whispered against her overheated sex.
“God, you’re incredible. I missed you, Syd. Missed this. Missed us.”
It should have set off a thousand warning bells in her head, induced a hundred triggers, but it didn’t. It didn’t tear her open inside either, like claws ripping at a fresh batch of wounds. Instead, those words stitched her up inside and made her feel whole since the day she’d walked out of Philly determined to put her past, and Jesse, behind her.
For him. It was all for him. But what if she was wrong about what was best for him?
What if she’d stayed and things actually had worked out.
“You’re thinking too much,” Jesse said as he nipped her inner thigh. “Why are you thinking when I’m going down on you? Maybe I’m not doing a very good job. Maybe I should stop.”
“No!” She gripped at his hair, nearly clawing his face in the process. “Seriously, don’t stop. Don’t stop or I will hide your body in the basement, never to see the light of day again.”
“So violent.”
“You haven’t seen real violence until you stop.”
He peppered hot kisses over her mound then slid lower, letting his tongue do devastating work that turned every single cell she had in her body into a raging inferno. She was burning out of control, her limbs so heavy that she could barely move them, a tingle starting in her feet, trailing up her legs, shaking her thighs. Heat spiraled in her belly and her nipples were practically cutting through the t-shirt she still had on.
His tongue teased at her folds, sweeping over in broad strokes that made her want to cry, big fat happy tears, ugly cry because it felt so amazing. He brought his finger up and explored her in time with his tongue. He danced over her clit a few times, which sent jagged shards of pleasure tearing through her.
“Please,” she begged. And she never begged.
He got the picture. And he didn’t make her explain to him, in detail, what exactly please meant. He doubled up two fingers, smeared them through her wetness, and filled her with them just as his mouth descended on her clit. He licked and suckled and then nipped her lightly while he worked her with his fingers.
He took her higher with every stroke, every luscious lick and nip.
She honestly wasn’t the kind of person who orgasmed easily as she’d found out later on. She rarely climaxed with a partner. She didn’t want to admit it, but Jesse was the only guy she’d ever actually been able to find the magic O with and she’d done it four times that night. Four. She said she didn’t remember, but oh hell, she remembered. You don’t just forget four incredible, mind numbing orgasms.
Just like she wasn’t going to forget this one anytime soon. He had the most talented mouth and his hand came in a close second, because he kept working at her until the pleasure shot from her toes, tingled along her legs like a line to an explosive pile. When the flame hit her core, it detonated, and she went up in flames. Her entire body clenched and shivered, and she thrashed and bucked against his hand, shamelessly rode his mouth, as she flew and soared.
She didn’t come back down for a solid minute and when she did, the pleasure left her wrung out, twisted and gasping, her heels dug into the black comforter below her, her whole body trembling violently, her chest heaving.
Jesse looked up at her and winked. “Just my name.”
And that’s when his phone rang.
His phone, on the nightstand.
It sent a jarring high-pitched sound through the room that sounded less like a ring tone and more like an angry ghost wailing and rattling its chains. Or maybe that was just her inner goddess, the embodied spirit of her va-jay, throwing a tantrum, because she seriously did not want Jesse to move away from her.
“I have to make that stop.” He shot her an apologetic glance before he moved away and grabbed his phone.
“Don’t you have voicemail,” she hissed. “Or a silence button?”
“I forgot to turn it on.” He glanced at the screen and groaned. “I’m going to have to answer this.”
“Don’t you dare answer that.”
“I have to. It’s never going to stop ringing otherwise.”
“Throw it in the toilet.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
He slid his finger along the phone and held it up to his ear as she did her best, unsuccessfully to stifle a groan.
CHAPTER 15
Sydney
It was all it took, hearing Jesse’s mother’s voice drift over the phone, to break whatever spell she’d been under. God, maybe he’d drugged the food. That had to be the explanation. There was no other logical reason that she’d fallen into bed with him so damn easily after ten years of telling herself to stay away.
Moving fast, her face on fire, Sydney scrambled off the bed. She grabbed up her panties, which were embarrassingly wet and not just because she hadn’t dried herself well in the shower or any stupid thing like that. No- they were definitely wet because she’d been hella-turned on by that crazy whipped cream licking, face sucking, tender clean up routine in the kitchen.