Crimson Sunsets

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Crimson Sunsets Page 4

by Lacee Hightower


  This weakness in the knees … bringing out feelings that were unplanned.

  They had absolutely nothing to do with a rebound.

  I wanted more. Lots and lots. More…

  “I know your life was hard, Justin. I wish I could change that. But … mine hasn’t been all that great either.” I swallowed, watching him lean his head back as his mouth pressed together in a rigid straight line, exhaling a long breath through his sealed lips.

  “I want you, Hartley. Your mouth on mine. Those big chocolate eyes watching me, glazing over when I slide my tongue inside your tight pussy and my fingers in your ass. I’ve dreamed a million times about your wet heat hugging me while I own every inch of your body. Making us both come until there’s nothing left in either of us. But after that … after you’re out of my goddamned head, there’s nothing left. And I move on. I’m not adept at offering more. Plus, you’re still bouncing back from your past.”

  “Stop saying that,” I yelled, giving my head a frustrated shake at his continuous referral to my break-up from Bruce.

  His square jaw clenched as he fought not to break our stare, the strange sensation swirling in my chest moving down into my belly as what he just said sunk in. I wasn’t sure which part of his declaration had me to the point of wanting to drop to my knees and beg him, but I felt myself about two seconds from doing exactly that. His tongue inside my pussy? His fingers in my ass? I’d never been so shamefully aroused by something a man said to me before, even though he was basically telling me there would never be any strings attached. I hoped he couldn’t tell just how flushed I was.

  “So, all you want is to fuck me? Get your teenage crush out of your head so you can move on?”

  His gaze darkened while my chest filled with streams of confusion. All he wanted was meaningless sex. Nevertheless, I was standing here with soaked panties. But then, wasn’t that what I planned on? Sex with no strings? No expectations? The last thing I needed was another man whore in my life. Why did I even think maybe he wanted more? Why did I always assume the wrong things concerning men? Downright pissed off at my weaknesses, I suddenly wanted to kick his perfectly toned shins with the heel of my shoe.

  “Then do it, Justin. We’re both adults. And guess what? You’re not the only one who’s fucked for fun. Use me until I’m out of your head. Give me the rebound sex you’re determined I’m seeking. Then walk away. I assure you I won’t die of heartbreak. If I haven’t collapsed from years of infidelity and still seem to be in one piece after walking in on the man I thought I loved fucking a woman on all fours in my bed, I can pretty much guarantee it’ll take a whole lot more than empty sex with you to break me.”

  As I turned to avoid the intense blue stare that made me weaken, he snubbed my elbow and brought me straight back to where I could do nothing but look at him, his face hard to read. My eyes fell to the ground as he broke things off between us before they’d even begun. Without another word, I turned and walked toward the high-rise building, fighting looking back as I choked back the sob behind my chest, knowing he was still there as I listened to him uttering, “I’m sorry, Hartley.”

  Fuck him. To hell with being sorry. Was that the only damn thing a man could ever say to me?

  My stomach clenched as I closed the door to Jackson’s apartment. For minutes, I stood at the long row of windows watching two doves on the balcony railing kiss and clean each other’s coats, while I swiped at the hot angry tears on my cheeks. I’d once read that these birds stay together as pairs and mate for life. Even though the sudden knock on the front door was almost hushed, the couple flew away. Something about that saddened me.

  The door opened to a Justin I didn’t recognize. His eyes were dark and unmoving, his expression heavy. My pulse raced at the look on his face. The same weird connection to him that I’d felt earlier was stronger than ever. He felt it too. I could tell. Something between us was happening, shifting, even though he said it never could. Even though I came to Texas confident my feelings were closed to all men. Yet, the urge to touch him was almost painful.

  “Hartley.”

  He took a step forward, the masculine aroma of his cologne making me even warmer.

  “What?” I whispered.

  “There’s so much you don’t know.”

  Only minutes ago, being confident and sure, the new tone in his voice held unsureness and self-doubt. I could see a marked distress in his eyes, the exceptional face that had been so carefree only minutes ago now entirely changed. Something about that look still shot straight through my core, pulling the breath from me. I wanted him to reach for me so badly, this tension between us tugging away. Thick and heavy. I knew he sensed it, too, and even though he said it could only be sex, whatever this thing was between us was substantial. It needed to happen. It had to.

  Please kiss me. Please use me.

  “But I want to …,” I whispered, “know everything.”

  My body quivered at the grave expression covering his face. Our eyes were locked. He stared at me with a confused, but burning, needful look of lust that made my stomach flutter all the way down through the soles of my shoes.

  “You’re not ready for me,” he muttered.

  “Who says I haven’t been ready since the seventh grade?” I answered quietly.

  “I won’t be making love to you.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “I won’t be slow or sweet.”

  “I never asked for either,” I breathed out.

  His hands landed on my shoulders, forcing me against the door as my legs turned to jelly. My hand dropped into the middle of his hard abs, snaking down and across the top snap of his jeans. His breath hitched, the tight bulge growing.

  “One time,” he hissed against my neck.

  “I only need once,” I uttered against his pulsing chest.

  “You’re still going to feel me tomorrow.”

  “I hope so,” I whispered.

  My back met the heavy metal of the door with a dull clinking sound as one hand twisted through my hair. All the tiny fibers on the nape of my neck lifted as his lips pressed uncontrollably against mine, twisting his tongue over and under my teeth as it forced its way inside. Holy hell, that was hot.

  I could only whimper as his breath, hard and heavy against my mouth, sent chills rushing down my spine while this frantic reckless need for each other refused to subside. I reached for his neck, folding my arms around him and brazenly grinding against his body, the hard outline of his erection only fueling my desperation.

  Deep. Digging. Demanding and forceful.

  I moaned against his mouth, matching every powerful thrust of his tongue.

  Welcoming.

  Wanting.

  Urging.

  Surrendering.

  “Close the door, Hartley.”

  In only seconds, he was lifting me by the ass, my legs encircling his hips as he crushed his mouth against mine again. And again. I urged my breasts against his firm chest, crying out as I drove my body against him without shame.

  The hard movement of the swelling behind his jeans swept over my belly as he wrenched against me, pressing his strong body into mine. His mouth leisurely left my lips, traveling in a slow trail down my chin and over the sensitive skin of my throat, the moans behind his chest deepening and intensifying into something hungry.

  I’d never felt so turned on in my life.

  He only wanted to fuck me for fun.

  Dear God … I’d let him.

  Chapter Seven

  Justin

  I need to let her go.

  Stupefied! Utterly dumbfounded! Exactly what I was right now. This beauty in front of me was a million fucks more than breathtaking. And she’d wasted years of her life on some cheating, weak-ass pussy who couldn’t even pull an orgasm out of her. More than anything, I wanted to change that scenario. Predictably, so did the bulging discomfort behind my jeans.

  I was struggling like hell. Fighting the urge to lift her in my arms and show her how a
real man treated a woman before lowering that amazing mouth onto mine for a long, wet kiss that went on for minutes. Thoughts of pushing her to the very edge were screwing with my brain cells. I was minutes from showing her what could be done with one lone finger or the brush of a tongue.

  I needed to shake my screwed-up head out of the fog. Hartley Shipman had no place in my lifestyle.

  Yet, one nonsensical fuck was the last thing I wanted, regardless what I told her. More than anything, I burned for every inch of her perfect body. My mouth watered at thoughts of tasting her wet treasure. I was so rock-hard, my balls ached all the way into my toes. Sweet mother of Jesus, I needed inside her. Yet I knew like the sun would rise and set that this was wrong and I should be any fucking where but here.

  I was the last thing this sweet girl needed.

  “Jesus,” I mumbled under my breath.

  Just breathe, Wisely. One fucking breath at a time, I mentally told myself, my chest tightening as I thought of a solution to the steel rod bumping against my gut.

  Motherfucking hell.

  I tried the whole relationship shit once. I couldn’t make it work. I wouldn’t go there again.

  So why was that tiny voice in my head telling me I would?

  I won’t!

  Her eyes were fixated on me, resembling warm shiny milk chocolate kissed with flecks of something unusual. They sent the blood flow straight up my erection.

  Christ, I wanted her. And we were both mature adults. I loved sex … and she needed to learn what it was like to be properly fucked. From the looks of her hard nipples and smell radiating off her amazing body, I was pretty confident she wanted the same thing I did. So, was there really a reason to hold back? From a beautiful woman willing to spread her legs for me? Especially one who had grown into the hottest thing in the goddamned south? Or the entire universe?

  Why was I still trying to convince myself to back away?

  Christ almighty.

  She claimed to be entirely fine with a one-time fuck. What blue-blooded American male would refuse that?

  Not. A. One.

  I reached for her hand. For a few seconds, she studied me before relaxing into my fingers. I pulled her against me, lifting her by the ass, one thing becoming perfectly clear. There was no mistake about her being wet. Her legs that went on for miles circled me while my steel hard erection drummed against her belly. Her eyes were wide and full of lust, her lips open and waiting. I could only imagine what they would feel like covering my dick. Dear God, some strange unknown inside my chest wanted to give her everything I had. Take away that one small look of question in her eyes that Bruce had put there, and replace it with nothing but happiness.

  Holy fuck. A long crumpled up shit load of panic rolled through my reflection of the moment. My head needed to stop playing tricks with my heart. Stop trying to slip into what I knew couldn’t happen.

  Nothing permanent. Just sex. Just sex…

  Christ!

  This need to slip into that one place I’d never been, where it was real and actually meant something, stabbed through my mind like an unwanted parasite. Yet, something about it felt right. Fuck, it felt good. Then again, what woman’s warm tight sex didn’t?

  With a long, hesitant breath, I lowered her back down to the ground and walked to the floor to ceiling windows, my hands aching to pick her right back up and get those long legs around me again as soon as humanly possible.

  But this was Hartley. Not just another random stranger.

  Thinking. Thinking. Things had been so simple. Then… Then this.

  Just breathe, Justin. Just motherfucking take a breath.

  The last thing I wanted was to break this sweet beautiful girl’s spirit. She was so full of substance. Overflowing with compassion, the expression on her face screamed hold me, love me. Don’t hurt me.

  I didn’t know how to fucking do that.

  Should have driven away when you had the chance, Wisely.

  This thing had to be kept casual. I couldn’t risk more. Couldn’t get too close. But then she walked behind me, her arms circling my waist. Oh, what the fuck ever! Why did I care? It was sex. One day of what I did best. More self-centeredness.

  Would this be another ordinary meaningless night of dipping my dick into some girl’s wet pussy that I didn’t give three shits about? Truth was, I just didn’t know. Something about her just made all the hair on my neck rise, which was goddamned unsettling. Only a couple of hours with her and every bit of my reasoning was crumbling to shit. Visions of long conversations, having a meal together, or just smelling her hair, twirled through my head.

  Jesus H. Christ. When did I ever care about bullshit like that?

  Her arms were lax as I lifted them from my waist, turning her around and returning them to my midsection. Her bottom lip rested between her top teeth, her eyes full of desire and lust, while the dusting of freckles crossing her small nose lit up my cock. I couldn’t remember a single day of my life when I was innocent and good like her. More the reason why this didn’t need to happen. It was a mistake.

  With a small sigh, her fingers roamed over the sensitive part of my abdomen, right above the waistline of my jeans. Tweaking the tip of my dick.

  Right now. Right here. It was happening.

  Fuck!

  “Hartley.” This beautiful creature in front of me reeked with arousal. The innocent woman that had no idea what I did for a living, or who I really was. Who I could become. The life-altering mistake I’d made in my past life.

  “Come with me, beautiful.” Her eyes stirred with heat. Things would never be the same after this.

  The next hour would change everything.

  Holy fuck. Nothing was making sense. The thing was, I didn’t care. I couldn’t.

  I don’t care. I do not care.

  I led her toward my bedroom. Rather, her hot-headed brother’s guest room.

  Christ. This was all happening way too quickly. I was losing control. This hunger … it was extreme. Borderline barbaric.

  I closed the door, relishing in her beauty. Starving to learn every delectable inch. Giving her one final chance to walk away from this. Before it was too late.

  But she didn’t move, her chest rising and slowly lowering back down with a slight dip of her head. Another submissive trait I was certain she was completely oblivious to. Ordinarily, I’d be all over a compliant move like that, but the strange thing was … that I didn’t really want it that way with Hartley.

  I raised my shirt up and tossed it to the ground, her flickering eyes studying my bare chest as I waited. Waited … for her to change her mind.

  Still, she didn’t. She only stood. Staring. Her eyes closed and slowly opened back up, her head tilting into her shoulder with her gaze undoubtedly burning the same fire as mine.

  “Are you sure, Hartley?” I fucking am.

  “Yes,” she whispered, stepping closer and reaching for the top snap on my jeans, her lust-filled gaze wide and alert.

  Long, soft-brown curls smelled luscious as I pulled them between my hands, her head falling back from the strength of my quick pull.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Hartley.” Her lips opened wide as her head brushed my hand. The same hand that had once brought extreme injuries to a woman.

  “Stop talking about hurting me,” she whispered.

  My hands fell from her hair and inched downward until they palmed her ass, pulling her up around my starving cock. Her small delicate fingers returned the gesture, plunging into my ass and urging me closer. Wanting. Waiting.

  Ahh, that’s it baby. Grab that ass.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  I reached for the other two snaps on my jeans, shoving them to the ground, along with my boxers. My length was hard and full, slapping anxiously against my belly.

  Anything. She could have it all. Just to hear her whisper she wanted me one more time. To feel her beauty wrapped around me and relish her scent. Feel her velvety skin. Taste those soft full lips.


  My chest hammered with the impulsive longing I had for this woman. The need so strong that it hurt. But, she was absolutely right. This was purely sex. A one-time experience. Incredible, extraordinary, exquisite fucking between two consenting adults. A grown man and woman that had shared a life-long attraction, wanting nothing more than a one-time casual romp in the hay. No ridiculous guilty waterworks from her afterwards. No feeling like a bastard from me, knowing I was simply getting laid and nothing more.

  I raised her face toward mine, resting my forehead against hers as she lowered her hand up and down my heavy length. The strum of her pulse was strong. She was so perfect and pure. Turned on and so ready for me.

  “You are so beautiful,” I uttered against her face, wondering what was going through her mind right now.

  That’s it, Wisely. Too fucking personal. Forget that shit.

  I’d had my share of beautiful women. None ever threw me this way. Not even close. I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed inside her. Wanted to feel her body tense as I filled her with my heavy length. Wanted to hear her small sighs of ecstasy every time I thrust. Watch her eyes roll in the back of her head as she exploded in satisfaction.

  One hand slid down her back and over the feminine curve of her ass, my cock desperate against her belly, fighting to get to that one spot. My lips landed against hers, my tongue sweeping over her bottom teeth before ravishing the inside of her mouth.

  It was too late, even though I knew in actuality that really wasn’t the case.

  It was too soon.

  But, I couldn’t stop. Not now.

  She had to be mine. At least for the next few hours.

  For now, Wisely. Keep telling yourself that.

  A moan rose up my throat as I lifted her and walked to the end of the bed.

  So perfect, her hair was unruly and messy from my hands tangling through the brown waves, the small row of freckles cute and sexy as hell on her flawless face. Her breasts rose and fell in unstable beats as her breath thickened. Rising. Falling.

 

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