“Yes, I could feel myself getting all hot and bothered, Clay.”
“Tell me what it felt like.”
“I felt like I was on fire between my legs. I was aching and practically gushing in my panties,” she said, her words making him groan as he pushed his thumbs against her soft flesh.
“It made me so hard to see you strutting around my house, wearing my clothes, tying my tie, and teasing the fuck out of me,” he told her. “You want to see how much?”
“Yes, please.”
He let go of her ass, and dragged the head of his cock against her, coating himself with her glorious wetness. A low rumbling took hold in his chest at the feel of her, so wet, so ready.
She whimpered when he pulled away.
“But I’m not giving it to you just yet.” He grabbed her ass hard, spreading her legs open wider, giving him the perfect view of her glistening pussy that was so damn tempting he could not resisting burying his face between her legs. The second he made contact, she groaned his name, a plaintive plea for more of his tongue. But he didn’t plan to give her his tongue right now, so he flicked once against her clit, then stopped.
“That is for teasing me,” he said sharply.
“Clay,” she cried.
“What do you want, gorgeous? Tell me what you want.”
“I want more.”
“No, you want to be fucked. I can see it as I stare at this beautiful sight,” he said, returning his hand between her legs, and cupping her. “You’re making my whole hand wet.”
“Because I want you,” she said, and he could hear the need in her voice, turning into a ragged kind of desperation.
“I would be a cruel bastard to deny your pussy right now,” he said, then plunged a finger inside her, and instantly, she screamed.
He thrust his finger in and out, bringing his other hand around to squeeze one of her breasts. He was bent over her, fucking her hard with a finger, and kneading her breasts, all while she could do nothing but rock into his hand.
She tightened around his finger.
“You needed more you said?” He asked.
“God, yes.”
He thrust two fingers inside her, and felt her clench against him, her pussy drenching him with her arousal. “Now fuck my hand, Julia. Fuck my hand like you fuck your own fingers when you masturbate.”
“You think I masturbate to you?”
“I know you do, gorgeous. I know you do. Now show me how or I’ll stop,” he said, pausing inside her, giving her the chance to feel what it was like to want to be fucked badly. Within seconds, she rocked into his fingers.
“That’s how,” she said, her breathing rushed, as she pumped herself onto his hand, thrusting up and down on his two fingers. “That’s how I fucked my own fingers when I got off to you this week.”
“I like it when you tell me the truth. Because when you do, I can reward you the way I like. Now, you keep riding my hand, and I want to feel you come all over me,” he said, rubbing his thumb against her wet and throbbing clit as she rode him, and soon he felt her tighten all over his fingers.
She pushed back hard, then screamed his name, her entire body writhing against his hand. Her noises echoed around his house, and soon, but not too soon, she slowed down. It was then that he nibbled on her bottom, and the next sound from Julia was one of surprise.
*****
She gasped.
She was in another world right now, blissed out beyond any and all recognition. Barely aware anymore of what he was doing to her. Drugged out on his touch, her whole body felt boneless and beautiful at the same time. And he wasn’t done with her. Not in the least. His hands were sliding all along her back, so firm and strong as he mapped her with his fingers, all while kissing the outline of her rear.
Her ass was in the air, and it was his for the playing. She had no clue how far he planned to go, or if she’d let him. Probably not that far, but she couldn’t deny the way her insides melted as he ran his tongue along her ass, tracing the cheeks, then dipping down between her legs, darting against her molten center.
She could barely form words now. Could hardly talk after that orgasm. All she could manage was his name. “Clay.”
“I got this,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”
“I know,” she murmured, sounding and feeling thoroughly intoxicated.
He returned to his kissing, this time beginning at the back of her knees, so he could lick his way up her thighs. “Oh god,” she whimpered because his tongue was magic. He returned to her backside, flicking his tongue across her flesh, and then he kissed her between her legs. She wasn’t sure if her pussy could handle it right now, being worked over by his epic mouth, but she was willing to see. But then, maybe that’s not where he was headed.
Because…oh…
Was his tongue there? Was it supposed to feel that good? Her body answered for her, and she rocked back into him. A long needy moan escaped her throat as he flicked his tongue against her ass, spreading her cheeks wider with his thumbs. She felt so vulnerable, so open to him right now, and though some part of her was tempted to toss out a snarky comment, she was without words as he licked her, surprising her with how very much she enjoyed where his tongue was. Only him, only this man could get away with doing that. Tenderly, he pressed his thumbs against her cheeks, rubbing a finger along her pussy gently, such a contrast to the hard fucking he’d given her, all while licking her ass.
Sensations flooded her veins, pleasure pulsing through her body as he touched her in new ways, showing her what a masterful lover he was and how much he delighted in pleasing her. Because he did please. Oh, did he ever, as hot flames spread inside her, lighting up her skin, as he worked his tongue against her rear with quick, hard flicks.
Soon, she felt her belly tighten, her sex clench, and she called out his name as another orgasm roared through her, chasing waves of pleasure all the way to her fingertips. Her vision blurred as she squeezed her eyes shut, giving in to the sensations, to the way he simply took her, and led her down this path of absolute and pure pleasure. She sank down onto her elbows, her back bowing. She was damn near about to collapse, but she knew she wanted more of him.
“Keep that ass up in the air, gorgeous,” he said, and she heard him tearing open a condom wrapper and rolling one on. He smoothed his hands along the backs of her thighs, causing her to quiver, as he lifted her ass higher, giving him the access he wanted to her pussy.
In one quick move, he was inside her, his hard length filling her so completely that she was sure this was the definition of intensity. She moaned and rasped out his name. “Clay. It feels so good to have you inside me.”
“There’s no place else I want to be right now,” he said, wrapping his hands around her hips, holding her tight. “Look at you,” he said, as he thrust into her, his cock stretching her so exquisitely that it almost felt unfair to feel this good. “On your hands and knees, all tied up on my bed. Your perfect fucking body here for me to take.”
“You can take me anyway you want,” she said, her voice more hot and bothered than it had ever been.
“I want to take you in every way possible,” he said, driving deeper into her, his cock scraping across her swollen clit with each delirious thrust. “Watch you writhe in pleasure. Knowing I did that to you.”
She wriggled against him, showing him how she moved for him. “Like this? You like when you make me writhe like this?”
“Yeah, it makes me harder,” he said, his voice turning hoarse as he started to pump faster.
She could barely move with her hands tied to the headboard, but she didn’t need to, because he was making sure she was in heaven again. Taking her, sliding into her, gripping her hips the whole time. She rocked back into him, picking up the rhythm too, and soon they were in an achingly sinful synch.
“You’re going to come again,” he said roughly, bending over her back, his chest touching her, as he braced himself with his hands on the bed now. He covered her completely, and
there was little she could do, but little she needed to do because this was all instinct, all natural, all intense pleasure that tore through her body. He gripped her tied-up wrists, holding them tight as he thrust deeper into her, taking her like he owned her.
Tonight he did. And though she hating being owned, in this moment, she relished it. She savored it, thrilling at the feel of this strong man controlling every ounce of her pleasure and every square inch of her body. She was barely aware of how loud she was, of the sounds that escaped her lips, the animal-like cries as he filled her to the hilt.
But soon, she was heading for the cliff and he was riding her there, charging headfirst into another climax. “Bite down on the pillow when I make you come again,” he said.
She muffled her screams as she raced to the other side, shattering into pure white-hot bliss.
“You make me come so fucking hard, Julia. So. Fucking. Hard,” he said, driving into her, as he joined her.
Chapter Eleven
The moon glowed overhead, bathing the balcony in a shimmery light. Julia was snuggled in one of Clay’s sweatshirts. It had the name of his alma mater across the front, and for some reason that made her like wearing it even more. Maybe because it was not only his, but it also said something about him. He was a man who knew his stuff. He was passionate about his work, dedicated, driven.
But then Dillon had known his stuff too, hadn’t he? He was a passionate photographer, until, well, until he took off. Hell, maybe he was shooting beach shots somewhere. She hadn’t a clue.
She angled her chopsticks into the carton of pad thai, dug out some noodles and took a bite. Lounging across an outdoor bench, her legs rested on his thighs. He’d covered the bench with a blanket because the wood was damp from the earlier rain. Now, the night sky was quiet, and the faint hints of an earlier storm clung to the air.
He was clad in boxer briefs and a T-shirt that showed off his sexy, sculpted arms. She found herself enjoying the view immensely, even though she’d enjoyed plenty of views of him undressed already. He was ogle-able at all times – in a dress shirt, in a T-shirt, in his birthday suit.
“Mmm. This hits the spot.”
He took a bite of the noodles too. “We worked up an appetite.”
“I’ll say,” she said, then set the carton down on the table. He reached for her legs and began rubbing her calves, gently massaging them with his strong hands.
She stretched and wiggled closer, delighting in the relaxing feel of his firm hands sending a new kind of pleasure through her. One that made her muscles sing, and her veins flood with warmth. “You are too good to me,” she murmured.
“Only way I want to be,” he said as sighed happily, a contented sound as he rubbed her legs, then moved down to her feet, cupping her ankle in one hand as he massaged the arch of her foot with his thumbs. “I figure your feet can use this with those crazy heels you wear.”
“I like my crazy heels.”
“I love your crazy heels, and I want to make sure you can keep wearing them.”
“How do you like them best?” she said, playfully.
“With your legs wrapped around my neck.”
She smiled at him, a woozy sort of contentment bathing the night. “What time is it? I feel like I lost all sense of the world around me tonight.”
He bent down to kiss her shin. “Good. That’s how it should be. And to answer your question, it’s nearly midnight.”
A brief hit of tension touched down in her body, like an alarm. Tomorrow night at this time, she’d be headed home. This weekend – perfect as it was – would be over. It would be a delicious memory, but only that. A slice of her life that was in the past. There was a part of her that wanted to stop time, and live in this escape to New York for a while, forget her debts, forget her obligations, forget Kim and her hubby and the rest of the employees at Cubic Z. Ignore the whole wide world and live in this bubble of sex and chemistry and the delicious sort of getting-to-know you that fools a person into falling. Boy, was she falling for him, headfirst into a crazy kind of like, the kind that made her want to send him sweet texts and naughty texts, that made her want to talk to him about everything and nothing, that made her want to hear all about his day. Every day.
To be the first person he saw in the morning, and the last one he saw at night.
What a crazy notion. She must he high. Intoxicated on epic sex, and she’d need to clear her orgasm-clouded head.
“So Miss Julia. How’s this going to work out?”
She raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “What do you mean?”
He pointed from her to him, speaking in a clear, firm voice. “You and me. I don’t want this to just be a one-time thing. I want to see you again.”
She fixed him with a quizzical look. Surely, he wasn’t the kind of man who wanted a long-distance relationship. But then, he said he’d been with Sabrina for a while, and she had no reason to believe he was a player, or a ladies man either. And while she wasn’t sure what she wanted from him, she did know one thing for certain – she wanted to see him again. He’d rocked her world in more ways than one. With pleasure, and with laughs, and with the tender ways he had. That was the problem – he was so good for her, and she simply had no real estate in her life for this kind of potential. One of them or both of them would wind up hurt.
But she had enough problems, so she made a split-second choice – to be abundantly honest in this instant about how she felt. “I would like that,” she said, without agenda, without teasing. “I live on the other side of the country though.”
“I am aware of that and I want to see you again and again. You’re not seeing anyone else, are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that.”
“And you like being with me presumably?”
“Obviously.”
“So let’s do this,” he said in the most matter-of-fact tone. As if a relationship spanning 3000 miles were truly that easy.
“How? How are we supposed to pull this off?” As much as she liked him, long-distance love affairs had a gigantic built in roadblock.
“There’s this thing called an airplane,” he said dryly. “It flies. You get on it. I get on it. We both get off on the other side.”
“Oh ha ha, funny guy.”
“Why thank you very much. I like to make sure all departments are fully functional including the humor one.”
“Well, it is. But I do work a ton, you know,” she said, her natural instinct to erect walls rearing its head.
“As do I.”
“So it might not be that often that we can see each other.”
“If you are not interested in this continuing, you should just say so rather than point out the obstacles,” he said, his dark eyes fixed on hers, his gaze serious and intense.
She opened her mouth to speak, but it was as if she’d been injected with an overdose of nerves. One she needed to ignore. “I am interested in this continuing,” she said, and it felt like an admission, as if she were confessing something hard but true. Because this was only supposed to be one weekend. This wasn’t supposed to be more. But the idea of this - them - ending after one weekend felt like a stone in her chest.
“Good,” he said, running his fingers across her calf, and his touch was something she was already used to, and already going to miss desperately. “We will manage what we can then.”
“Okay, but it might get expensive.”
“I don’t know how to break this to you gently, so I’m just going to be blunt. I do well for myself. I have frequent flyer miles and a credit card that works.”
She heaved out a playful sigh, even though inside that was part of what worried her, and a big part of why she needed to keep him not just at an arm’s length, but a football field length from Charlie. He’d find a way to blackmail him, tie him up into all sorts of trouble. A prominent lawyer boasting a client list teeming with money, he’d have a field day with Clay.
“I want to see you and I will buy
you tickets and buy my own,” he continued. “I also have clients in San Francisco, and Los Angeles and I get to the west coast a lot.”
“I am sure, but I don’t want you paying for me. I don’t like owing people,” she said with a firmness to her tone. She didn’t want to be in anyone’s debt ever again.
“I don’t want to be paid back. I want to see you. I’m not buying you. I’m saying I want to date you and some dates require a cab, and some require a town car, and some require an airline ticket. And if that’s the cost of transportation – an airline ticket – if that’s my fare from New York to San Fran, I don’t see how that’s any different than if you lived in Brooklyn and came to see me here in Manhattan over the weekend,” he said, keeping his eyes locked on her the whole time as he spoke with such confidence.
“I guess, but I don’t want to feel like I’m a kept woman,” she said, even though she relished the idea of seeing him. He’d made a more-than-convincing argument that they should make a go of things.
He laughed hard. “No one ever in the whole wide world could keep you. I’m just going to be happy if I can spend a few hours with you.”
“You like the sex that much,” she said, playfully pushing her toes against his hard abs.
“You know I like the sex. I think the part that’s not getting through to you is how very much I like all the other parts. I like what’s in here,” he said, stretching across her to tap her forehead with his index finger, “And I like doing the things here,” he said, sweeping his thumb across her lips, “that involve talking.” He traveled down her chest, tracing a line between her breasts, and landing on her heart. “I also like the things I’m seeing in here.”
Her heart beat in double time, and it was such a foreign feeling for her, it had been so long since she’d felt for someone. It scared her, but felt wonderful at the same time too. But then, wasn’t that what liking someone felt like? A little bit like stepping off the diving board and taking the plunge. She grasped his hand, clutched it in hers, holding his against her chest. His eyes sparkled with a happiness, a genuine sort of joy, as if she’d just said yes to him. Which, she supposed, she had.
Night After Night Page 8