Closer to My Heart

by Moore, Becky

  Lucas looked in her eyes, his hips surging sure and strong into Jane’s hot body. In. Out. In. Out. Jane whimpered and pleaded more. “No.”

  “Lucas! I can’t come with my legs open like this. Please—let me wrap them around your waist.” She moved franticly, her squirming almost as powerful as Luke’s thrusts.

  Finally, finally he stilled his hips and backed away from the tree. He settled her legs around his waist, one by one, so that she was more comfortable. She tried to lift herself up to get back into the rhythm but Lucas held her still with a steely grip to her upper thighs.

  “Luke? What’s wrong. . .we’re so close.” Jane reached down and slapped him on the flank.

  He gasped and squeezed her thighs. “Just wait,” he said. He walked quickly to the red picnic table surrounded by the Hydrangeas she’d been using as a test bed for changing the pH of the soil to change the blooms from pink to blue.

  “Look at my Hydrangeas,” she said dreamily when he sat her down on the table, then pressed his palm to the center of her chest to lay her onto her back. He was still embedded deep within her body.

  He looked around. “What?” He flicked his pointer finger quickly over her clitoris, which made her twitch.

  “What did you just say honey?” He lifted her hips off the table and surged deeply into her.

  Jane giggled between groans of ecstasy. “I’ve never been out here at night without the lights on. My blue Hydrangeas look so pretty in the moonlight.” Lucas stilled and pulled out, turning to look at the flowers. Absentmindedly he licked his fingers clean.

  Finally, he turned back and put his attention back to driving them out of their minds. “Jane,” he demanded. She jumped at the unexpected command, but looked him in the face.

  “Look at me. I want to watch your face.” He pushed in to the hilt and then stopped for a second. She squeezed her inner muscles and he started shaking.

  “I can’t hold off any longer.” His hips pumped quicker and quicker. Jane began coming and before she could scream too loudly, Lucas covered her mouth with his, shoving his tongue deep inside. He pulled out one last time and his body jackknifed as he thrust hard enough to move her halfway across the table. He slid his hands down to her hips and ground his dick in as far as it would go…then wrenched his mouth away and howled at the moon. He could die a happy man and never know nirvana anywhere else in the world.

  After a minute, the paroxysm of his body halted and he folded Jane into a close embrace. Her head was turned to the side and her arms lay loosely at her hips. Her calves dangled off the edge of the table. Luke’s head was bowed and his forehead rested in the valley between Jane’s breasts. He was lying haphazardly across her torso and his feet had fallen asleep.

  There were no tears this time. He watched her for a minute, then looked at the garden around them. “You know, your garden really is beautiful in the moonlight.” She smiled. “I think those hydrangeas you pointed out earlier are the same color as your eyes.” And Jane was as delicate, and as lovely, as her precious hydrangeas.

  He pushed off Jane’s body and stood on the ground between her relaxed legs and stomped his feet to get the blood flowing again. Her eyes were still closed but she made undistinguishable sounds of protests at the loss of his body heat.

  “Come on, Sleeping Beauty,” he said. He lifted her high against his body and carried her inside. “Let’s clean up a bit; then we can relax.”

  Instead of walking toward Amber’s apartment, he walked through the family room and towards the hall that led to Jane’s suite at the back of the house. “Amber’s shower is comfortable enough, but I’d rather see how yours works. Is that fine with you?”

  She nodded and sighed sweetly. “There’s a bench seat in there. I had the bathroom redesigned when I moved in so I could spend lots of relaxing time in there. It’s one of my favorite rooms in the house.”

  “A bench, huh? Sounds like fun.”

  Her head rested heavily against his shoulder and Lucas smiled as he walked them back to her room. He was so relaxed. A potent mixture of their fluids was trickling down her legs but she made no move to wipe it away. Still, Lucas didn’t want to get her comforter wet so he carried her in the bathroom with him, lifted the lid on the toilet and sat her on the hollow seat. “You climb in when you’re ready.” She giggled.

  He started the shower and adjusted the temperature. Just as he was stepping into the cavernous stall, he heard the sound of Jane’s tinkling and laughed. “Well, thank God I put you on the right seat,” he joked.

  “Yeah, well, it was such a perfect spot that I couldn’t let it go to waste.”

  Lucas rinsed his body quickly under the spray and sat down on the bench. He groaned before he could stop himself because his legs were sore, and his balls felt a bit bruised.

  Jane opened the glass door and stepped in front of him. He moved over to make room for her, but she pointed to his lap and said, “I’d prefer that seat, if you don’t mind.”

  He blushed, but shifted his hips down and spread his arms wide so she could do as she wished. Man, they were going to be raw and bruised tomorrow, but it was worth it. After a lazy lovemaking session in the shower, they washed and used one of her big bath towels to dry off. Lucas borrowed her toothbrush and within minutes of climbing into bed, they were both asleep.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “So what kind of book are you working on?” Lucas took a big, sloppy bite of watermelon.

  “Oh, it’s a companion piece to my young adult series. An illustrated diary to help kids work on their self-esteem, and confidence.”

  She spit a watermelon seed into the garden, far on the other side of her slate patio. It landed about three inches beyond Luke’s in a bed of red Zinnia. She whooped with joy, and didn’t care when some juice trickle down her chin.

  “Wow, that’s pretty good spittin’,” he said and spit another seed that flew cockeyed towards her Hydrangea bed.

  She burst out laughing. “Ow, oh! I’ve got a side-stitch. Quit making me laugh.”

  “No way, baby. I’m not stopping until I can out-spit you. We’ve got half a watermelon left. Cut me another slice, will ya?”

  “Uh, have you ever eaten this much watermelon in one sitting?” She covered her mouth and giggled. He was on his sixth slice.

  “No, why?”

  She walked over and stood beside his chair until he got the hint and scooted back. He leaned back and patted his knee with one hand; the other held tightly onto a sloppy piece of watermelon. He held it tightly while she climbed on—God forbid he drop it. She leaned over and kissed his watermelon mouth and squealed when he dropped the watermelon slice on her lap so he could get his hands on her.

  When she finally loosened her grip on his shoulders, he looked her in the eye and asked, “What’s wrong with eating half a watermelon?” About that time, his stomach rumbled and a bright flush crept up his face.

  “Need I say more?” She reached down and patted him on the hip, near his rump.

  He chucked her on the arm and stood up abruptly. She started to tumble from his lap but he caught her and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  She was laughing again. God, the sound of her happiness made his heart pound hard enough to make him feel lightheaded. It had been so long since he’d had anything bright and enjoyable in his life…but he was finding that every moment with Jane made life worth living. Worth stepping out on faith. For the last few weeks, he’d been sleeping through the night; she’d been holding the nightmares at bay. He sighed and shook off that maudlin thought. He wasn’t going to let the Gachas in today.

  He walked briskly to Jane’s living room. His stomach rumbled again and Jane roared with laughter.

  “You watch what you do, Lucas! My face is down here in no man’s land.”

  Lucas laughed. “Yeah? Well baby doll, if I were you I’d quit squirming around. You don’t want me to blow!” He popped her on the ass. Hard.

  He took a couple more steps and dum
ped Jane on the plush couch that sat beneath a bank of huge 12 foot floor-to-ceiling windows that bathed the room in midday sunlight. The fabric was warm and Jane snuggled in.

  Lucas straightened abruptly and all traces of humor immediately fled his handsome face. “When I get back down, I want you naked.” He stared at Jane until she nodded, losing the grin off her face.

  Goddamnit! Lucas finally finished in the bathroom after a whopping twenty minutes. He flushed and pulled up his shorts, and went to the sink to wash his hands. He looked at himself in the mirror and noticed that he really needed to shave. Jane had such beautiful skin. He didn’t want to scratch her up. And now that he’d totally emptied his lower intestines, he was in for the long haul. Now if Jane would only be able to overlook the fact that he’d spent the better part of a half hour shitting and shaving. Talk about embarrassing.

  “Jane!” he yelled. “I’m coming down. You’d better be where I left you.” He looked in the mirror again and wiped off the last bit of shaving cream beneath his left ear. He grinned and stripped off his T-shirt and shorts, then stepped out of his boxers. He scratched his stomach and headed downstairs, bare-assed and harder than granite. He was ready. “Jane—it’s on!”

  On the way down, the stairs creaked and he had a brief panic about walking around naked, unannounced, in a stranger’s home. But, then again, Jane was his lover and he trusted her. She was also his friend and she wouldn’t set him up to fail or be uncomfortable. If someone else had walked in while he’d been upstairs ridding himself of the unknown side effects of fresh watermelon, she would have answered him. But her silence gave him pause…but then he realized that she was playing hide and seek. His pulse quickened.

  “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he sing-songed.

  Nothing. Lucas was met with total silence. He grinned. She was playing with him. How long had it been since he laughed and played? “Jay-nie.”

  “In here,” she said from around the corner. Her voice was feint, from far away. Lucas looked at the Ziro clock on the wall next to the stone fireplace. Two thirty. The sun had moved to the other side of the house, shifting the shadows around inside the comfortably decorated living room. The cranberry linen drapes were tied back from the middle, falling gracefully to brush the hardwood floors. He looked to the front door, which was solid Oak on the lower half and a Mission-style stained glass collage on the upper half that Jane said was made by her friend Annie—the Brazilian-waxing lesbian who also cut Jane’s hair.

  He locked the deadbolt and went to join the hunt. He noticed her shirt draped over the back of the couch. He picked it up and held it to his face. God, she smelled so good. Like outside and sunshine and flowers and hot, sexy woman. Her shorts were tossed on the high-back wooden bench that maintained its vigil in the wide hallway leading to the bedroom. He picked those up and balled them in his hand with the shirt.

  “Janie, I’m coming to get you,” he taunted. The next thing he saw was a lacy, flimsy lavender demi-cup bra hanging on the antique glass doorknob. He smelled that, too. He felt like such a pervert. A shudder wracked his big body.

  Still, she remained silent in her room.

  Lucas was losing patience so he yanked open the door and prepared to thunder his way into the room and claim his treasure. But he stopped short inside the door as soon as he caught a glimpse of the Hydrangea petals scattered along the floor and on the citrus colored bedspread. His breath lodged in his throat. She had been busy, and she had created a beautiful, seductive oasis within her warm, welcoming home. For him.

  Actually, for the two of them. He felt humbled.

  He looked around the room and still couldn’t find his mark. She’d pulled the blinds closed over the four windows so that the filtered sunlight was soft and romantic. It wasn’t pitch black, but the heavy fabric blocked most of the light. He took a few more steps into the room and caught a bright swatch of color that let him zero in on Jane—finally. He dropped the collected clothes on the floor by his planted feet. “Oh, Jane,” he whispered reverently.

  The final piece of clothing, an obscenely miniscule scrap of a thong that matched the lavender bra, hung by the string on Jane’s right ankle. Her leg was crossed and she dangled the panties like a carrot. He lunged and caught her foot, holding it still. He slipped the panties off her ankle and held them to his nose, inhaling deeply.

  “Jesus Christ,” he growled lowly. “You’re driving me fucking crazy. I’ve had enough!” He yanked her legs open and started to pull her to the edge of the plush wingback chair she was sitting in, but she yelled, “Wait!” and scrambled back from him..

  He dropped to his knees in front of her and let her go. He reached for her knees and ran his large, callused palms down her shins to check for anything that may be making her uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?” he asked between clenched teeth. His fierce arousal was causing his brain to short out.

  Jane placed her foot flat against Luke’s sternum and pushed lightly. Since his weight was a bit unbalanced, he toppled right over, making her giggle.

  “I said wait. I don’t want you to pull me to the edge.” She was back to blushing.

  Luke looked confused, but as he opened his mouth to ask what the heck she meant Jane leisurely placed her foot on his shoulder. Her thighs splayed wide open…Luke’s gaze zeroed in on her hot, moist core and he groaned. And his breathing grew heavier until he was panting.

  “Luuke,” she moaned.

  “Huh?” he asked dumbly. Jane shifted in the seat so that she could rest her other leg over the arm of the chair and her bottom could hang over the edge by an inch or so.

  “Can you to do something for me?” She whispered softly so he had to lean towards the chair to hear her better. He turned to rest on his hands and knees and her foot glided over his body to rest on his back, her knee notched over his shoulder. His breath was warm and moist on the inside of her left knee and he pressed a sweet, butterfly kiss on the tender skin there. But other than that, he was a good boy. His eyes were rather wild and his body was nearly vibrating, but he was a good boy.

  She lifted her mane of beautiful, soft hair off her neck and pushed it behind her shoulders and his fervent gaze watched every move she made. That she could hold him enthrall emboldened her…so she pushed her luck. At first she had planned to just stall him to make the anticipation build. But his gaze was so steady and hopeful that she couldn’t resist pushing him beyond his limits. She palmed her breasts gently and when she opened her eyes to lock Lucas in her gaze, she brushed her fingertips over her tight, raspberry red nipples and pinched lightly before moving her hands down to her ribcage. She moaned.

  Lucas swallowed audibly and sat back on his heels to watch the show. He breathed through his nose, and his nostrils flared in recognition of her scent. The hollows of his cheeks were flushed a deep red with his arousal. His hands were tightly gripping his thighs, whether it gave him an anchor for his riotous hormones or it kept him from reaching for her, Jane didn’t know. His huge phallus stuck out in front of him like a club and was so erect that it pointed almost to the ceiling. It was flushed a deeper red than his face and his skin looked like it was stretched so tightly that it would pop. And that’s what Jane was aiming for. The longer she stared, the larger it grew.

  “Goddamn!” he shouted when one hand continued down to cup her mound and the other moved back up to play with her nipples. Goosebumps raced across her heated flesh.

  “Jane,” he growled. “We’ve got to do this now!” he said, rising on his knees to move towards her.

  “Uh, uh, uh, Lucas. That’s not what I want right now.” Jane tsked.

  “Then what the fuck do you want!” His gaze was glued to the fingers on her right hand, which had separated the swollen folds of her labia so that her longest middle finger could dip inside. Her hips moved in counter motion to her playful fingers. He could tell she was turned on, but not fully ramped up by the way her hips still moved in a regular, smooth rhythm.

  “Bu—back up.” She str
uggled to form the words; the combination of having to talk and choreograph this scene was stretching her nerves tighter and tighter. She was losing control.

  She cleared her throat. “Against the bed if you need something at your back.” Her middle finger moved steadily in and out of her vagina. Lucas stared at her finger for a second before he shook his head and moved to comply. His hands were fisted at his sides, resting on the cool hardwood floors beneath his incendiary body. When he was as comfortable as he could get he nodded. And he licked his lips, a couple of times.

  “Now, take yourself in hand,” she whispered.

  She waited for him to grasp his beautiful, spectacular cock with his large, sexy hand. Every muscle in his body was flexed in an effort to control himself, but she enjoyed the play of veins in his hand and forearm as it held the focused anatomy of her attention. And she appreciated his hard won restraint. Again, he nodded.