'90s Playlist (Romance Rewind #1)

by Anthology

  It was everything that mattered to me in a kiss, made perfect.

  I sighed again, and he deepened the connection, wrapping one arm around my waist and licking over my lips, urging them open. I complied readily, eagerly, and gently sucked his tongue when it slipped inside my mouth, coaxing a sound of pleasure from him. I brought my hands to his shoulders, partly for balance and partly because I wanted to feel him. Those broad shoulders that filled out his shirt so well…wow. They were firm and muscled and made me want to strip him naked so that I could see what he looked like beneath all that soft cotton.

  My hands rubbed and stroked him as we kissed, getting so deep and hot that after a relatively short time, we were both breathing hard and had to break apart, panting. I stroked over his chest, unable to stop touching him, reveling in the hardness of his chest, the ridges of his stomach beneath his shirt. That made me kiss him again, wet and hungry and only for an instant before I pulled my mouth from his again, whimpering.

  My jeans felt too tight and my breasts chafed in my bra. I wanted to push him down on the floor and lie on top of him, to wriggle and rub over that long, thick ridge that was pushing up the fabric of his trousers, until my restlessness was satisfied and we could finish planning our trip to Scotland before doing it all over again.

  Which was why I stopped. I slowly sat back, sliding my hands off his body. I had to blink for a bit, just to get my vision back—my pupils must have dilated too wide at some point—and it took a few deep breaths before I could speak without gasping for air.

  Maybe it was stupid, but I wanted him to know that he could count on me. I wanted to show him that I wouldn’t take advantage of him when he was feeling emotionally drained. Just like he’d treated me with nothing but respect and kindness when I’d been a mess the other night.

  “So.” It came out breathy, and the way his eyes changed when he heard it, how they darkened and heated, nearly made me reach for him again. But I barreled on, trying to be good. “Scotland.”

  The repeat of his words from earlier broke through enough of the heavy desire in the room that we were able to smile at each other without subsequently rolling around on the floor without clothes on.

  Barely.

  He chuckled. “Yeah. Scotland. My, uh, kissing cousin is actually Shae’s cousin. I’m not related to Brenda at all, really. But we still think of each other as family. She was married last year and her man’s a good sort, as well. Ian is from Edinburgh, so that’s why Bren lives there now.”

  I was sure that Shae’s cousin was great, but it felt like a lot of imposition for a stranger from America, even if I was coming with Stuart. And especially because we’d just kissed. What did that make us, if anything? Would it matter to Brenda?

  “You sure it’ll be all right with her?”

  He reached out and took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine, and the gravity of that gesture nearly knocked me over. This wasn’t just a moment of crazy hormones or a rebound fling. It meant something to me.

  I just wasn’t sure yet what that something was.

  “I’m pretty sure. I’ll call her tonight, though, and let you know. I’ll stop by as soon as I can. We can buy the tickets at the station on Friday. Otherwise, it’s all set.”

  “Okay.” On impulse, I brought his hand to my lips and kissed the back of it.

  He stared at me for a long moment, until I began to feel nervous and self-conscious. But then he stood before offering his hand to help pull me up, too.

  “I have to go. I’ve got crew practice early morning.”

  Ah. So that’s where he’d gotten those muscles.

  He hugged me close and dropped a kiss on my mouth. “I’ll see you soon?”

  The way he asked, instead of stated, made me want him even more. It was as though he was holding back, too, trying not to push something with so much potential too far, too fast. But I was already thinking about our weekend trip ahead, and how that kiss had changed what it was. It was no longer me running away, grateful for someone to lean on while I fled.

  Now it was me and Stuart, visiting Scotland. Me and Stuart, kissing in Scotland.

  The thought made me look up at him and grin, wide and excited. “Soon.”

  And then he was gone, and soon seemed altogether too far away.

  Chapter 6

  Thursday was a rough day, since I had to meet with my advisor and that always put me in a terrible mood. Not to mention that I hadn’t seen Stuart since Monday night, even though he’d dropped by at some point. On Tuesday, when I’d gotten back from dinner, I’d found a message from him on the corkboard that everything was sorted with Brenda. I was upset that I’d missed him and had considered going to see him in Devonshire House, but forced myself to stay back. I reminded myself that now was not the time to push things, and besides, I had a lot of homework that night, anyway.

  But I missed him.

  It made me nervous, missing him after knowing each other for such a short amount of time. Mom’s words plagued me: You don’t need him to make your experiences worthwhile.

  Except she’d been talking about Ben, not Stuart. And Shae had cautioned me not to use Stuart as a replacement.

  Yet here I was, missing Stuart, going to Scotland with Stuart…

  I saw him in class on Wednesday, but he was in a rush after class and was once again bombarded by questions from other students after recitation, though he winked and smiled at me as I left.

  He didn’t come by after classes, though.

  So by Thursday evening, following the advisor meeting from hell, a barrage of difficult material in my classes, and feeling weighed down by the vast amount of homework that I needed to get finished before I hied off to Scotland for the weekend, the sight of a message scrawled on a piece of notebook paper pinned to my corkboard was an excessively welcome sight.

  Missed you again. Will come by later. -Stuart

  The load of homework I had suddenly didn’t seem so daunting, after all.

  I unlocked my door and stepped inside right as my phone rang. I dove for it, hoping it was Stuart calling, and nearly fumbled the handset when I grabbed it from the cradle.

  “He-hello?” I stuttered a greeting into the phone.

  Smooth. If Shae were here, she’d be rolling on the floor laughing at me right now.

  “Jill? It’s Mom.”

  “Mom! Hi.” Definitely glad that Shae wasn’t here. She’d make fun of me for the rest of the semester.

  “I’m so glad I caught you. I’ve been worried about you and I wanted to call and—well, I just felt awful after we hung up on Sunday. I still feel awful. How are you?”

  God. Had it only been on Sunday that I’d been begging to come home?

  And now I was okay. Excited, even, about a different guy. I wondered whether I should act like I was still dejected—but then she might feel worse, and I didn’t like lying to my mom—or if I should just keep it neutral and hope she didn’t ask too many questions.

  In the end, I went with. “I’m well.”

  There. Neither chipper- nor depressed-sounding. Perfect.

  “How were your classes this week? Were you, uh—well, did you get through them okay?”

  Ah. Right. Mom knew I was in a class with Ben.

  “I did.” And then, because it wasn’t fair to her to keep giving such terse, short answers, I confessed, “I’m actually okay, Mom. I just—I think I overreacted on Sunday. I feel a lot better. It’s been a busy week, though, and I didn’t have a chance to call…anyway. I’m sorry.”

  I could hear her whoosh of breath through the receiver. I felt like such a jerk for not thinking to call her before, though I was glad that Stuart had come by before I’d gotten home this evening. If he hadn’t, I might have felt a lot more dejected now, and that would have made Mom fret.

  “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how happy that makes me. Dad will be relieved, too. We’ve been—well, nevermind. What about this weekend? Do you have any plans?”

  “Yeah, actually.” N
ow I could hear the big smile in my voice, just from thinking about Stuart and the trip ahead. “I’m going to Scotland.”

  “You are?” I could hear the incredulity in Mom’s voice, and I got it. Five days ago I was a crying, miserable wreck and tomorrow I was going to Scotland…probably a bit bewildering from afar.

  But a lot had happened in five days.

  I schooled my voice into something resembling calm professionalism. “Yes. To Edinburgh.”

  There was a beat of silence, and then, “Are you going with someone?”

  “Yeah, uh, a guy I know. Stuart.” Please don’t give me the third degree.

  “Stuart?” There was another pause before she asked, “How do you know him?”

  Shit. Mom was not going to let this one go.

  “He’s Shae’s cousin. Shae can’t go, so…”

  It wasn’t exactly a lie. In fact, all of that was true. But I wasn’t quite ready to open up about him to anyone, even my mother. Thankfully, that seemed to appease her, because she sounded a lot more normal again when she said, “Oh, Shae’s cousin. Well, that sounds lovely, sweetie. When will you come back?”

  We talked for a while longer about Scotland, school, and how things were back home before we hung up, my mom’s Goodbye, Jilly, free of the anxiety I’d heard when she had first called.

  I decided to start in on my homework right away, just in case Stuart came by soon. The more I had out of the way, the better. I didn’t want anything else distracting me when he was here.

  I kicked off my shoes, sat down, and got to work.

  * * * * *

  I had one assignment left when he showed up at half past eight. I was concentrating so hard on my work that I yelped when he knocked, and as I crossed the room to the door, I heard his voice from the other side.

  “You all right, Jill?”

  I grinned and opened the door, still smiling. When his eyes met mine he smiled back, big and wide and so very sexy.

  I couldn’t resist.

  I reached out and tugged him forward into the room, then shut the door behind him.

  He didn’t need any more encouragement. It was as though the days apart had only allowed us to confirm what we were feeling—that we wanted each other, and it was foolish not to act on the mutual desire.

  He wrapped me in his arms at the same time that I went on my tiptoes to kiss him, and we ended flush against one another, clothes bunching and mouths meeting in a hot, frantic, full-body embrace.

  Just the right height. I knew it.

  My hands were going wild, almost like they had a mind of their own—pushing his sweater up, yanking his T-shirt from his jeans, then roaming up his body, from his hard, ridged stomach to his amazing, smooth, firm chest…where I couldn’t get past all the clothes he had bunched up under his arms. I pushed the tops further, trying to get them off, but I only managed to move them around a little.

  He laughed and let go of me slowly, letting me gain a little equilibrium, before pulling off his sweater and shirt himself, tossing them to the floor.

  “Holy shit.” I stared at him for a moment, rooted to the spot by the force of his hotness. The way he’d felt was nothing compared to the way he looked.

  And felt. Yeah. Both.

  Muscular barely described him. Sculpted definitely wasn’t the right word. God-like, maybe. That was about as close as I could come, anyway. Stuart was all lean lines and long limbs, and while he had almost no hair on his chest, there was an impossibly alluring line of soft hair that started just below his navel and went downward, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

  There was no way I wasn’t going to follow that trail with my tongue.

  I stepped close to him again, but this time I leaned forward and bit his shoulder, right where it was so rounded and full, like a nice, tasty apple. He made a sound low in his throat that sounded almost like a growl, and I trailed my mouth downward, scraping my teeth gently over the skin I’d just stroked with my fingers.

  When my tongue dipped into his navel, I put my hands on the front of his jeans and smiled against his stomach.

  Button-fly.

  There was something very satisfying about opening button-fly jeans.

  One.

  His jeans dropped just enough to reveal the elastic of his boxers, and I skimmed my fingers just under the stretchy top, feeling where the hair on his stomach continued downward.

  Two.

  His erection moved a bit with the extra room, and I rubbed it through his jeans. Big and long and hard. He hummed with pleasure as I pressed my palm against him.

  Three.

  His jeans fell to just above his hips, jerking his boxers down a bit along with them.

  Four.

  They fell to the floor and his cock sprang up, sticking out at me through the thin cotton left between us. I grabbed the hem of his boxers and pulled, letting them fall to the floor along with his jeans.

  “Holy shit,” I repeated. It seemed that was all I was capable of saying tonight, but there were really no other words. He was big and long and thick, just like I’d felt, but he was gorgeous, too. Here, his skin was a sun-warmed color, just like the rest of him, but the top of his cock was deep purple, with thick veins running up the ridged side.

  I wanted it inside of me.

  I circled my fingers around the base and put my tongue to the tip, making his body wrench forward as he let out a hissing breath.

  “Fuck. Jill. That—” His words cut off as I sucked gently, taking the entire head into my mouth and rolling my tongue around it, humming at the salty taste coming from the slit as I licked over him.

  But I’d only gotten that far before he pulled out gently, then bent, putting his hands beneath my arms and lifting me up.

  “Not yet,” was all he said, before kissing me again. His erection was pushing into my belly, and I shamelessly wriggled and rubbed myself against him, trying to maneuver it between my legs. But he was too tall for me to get it in just the right place, and before long I was whimpering in frustration.

  He pulled away and put his forehead to mine, looking down at me. “What can I do for you? How can I make you feel good?”

  “I want you inside of me,” I whispered, trailing my hands down his body to wrap around his shaft, then squeezing him gently.

  He groaned at the pressure. “God, I—Jill, are you sure?”

  Surprisingly, I was. I’d never done this with anyone except Ben, but my ex-boyfriend felt like a distant memory at the moment. And being with Stuart felt so natural that I didn’t even hesitate. I nodded, my nose bumping his. “Yes, I’m sure. I want you so much.”

  He didn’t waste time after that. My shirt came off and my jeans and panties were whisked away from my body so fast that I barely felt his fingers working the fastenings open. I took off my own bra, hurling it across the room somewhere with a shouting laugh right before we fell onto the bed, Stuart cradling me as we dropped on the mattress.

  I had to hand it to both of us—we made a valiant effort to continue our foreplay, kissing and stroking one another, but it was probably only thirty seconds before I threw my arm out, knocking it against the nightstand.

  “Condoms. There.”

  I was reduced to one-word grunts. I wanted him. Now.

  He leaned over and yanked the drawer open, the stoppers inside the drawer making a loud bang! as they hit the edge of the roll rail. He fumbled inside for a second, then withdrew a box, nearly crushing it with his grip.

  I definitely wasn’t the only one who was desperate to do this.

  He ripped open the box and pulled out a condom, tearing it open and rolling it on so fast that I barely had time to think before the tip of his cock was sliding between my legs, nudging at my entrance, making me produce needy little sounds instead of words.

  I was past grunts, even.

  I tipped my hips up to give him better access, and that was all it took. He pushed, breaching my body, and we both froze for a moment, groaning at the sensation of hi
m inside of me.

  Amazing, how just a little penetration can slow things down considerably. He was only an inch inside of me, but my inner muscles were already responding, stretching and adjusting to fit him, and we stayed unmoving like that for a while, both of us apparently getting used to being this connected.

  After a long moment, he dropped a soft kiss on my lips. “You all right?” He was still poised above me, not moving.

  I smiled at the words, the same ones he’d asked me the night I’d fallen into him, and nodded. “Very.”

  At that, he let go, pushing his hips forward again, until he was all the way inside and I was breathing hard just from my body working to accommodate him. And then there was nothing but his mouth on my mouth, the muscles of his back and arms flexing under my hands, his big cock thrusting, in and out, making me hotter, wetter, needier with every stroke.

  I could feel my release building, gathering in a pulsing, concentrated point until I barely managed to gasp out, “I’m gonna come,” and then there I was, shuddering and shaking as waves of pleasure rolled over me, nearly drowning me with it. Stuart thrust hard and fast, a few times, before grabbing my hips and holding me to him, pulsing out his own climax into my body, joining me afloat in the bliss.

  Chapter 7

  “What time are you leaving?”

  Shae and I were walking to class on Friday morning. Stuart hadn’t left my room until well past midnight, but I’d still woken up early and gone for a jog, then showered and had some cereal before picking up Shae.

  Sex had never given me this kind of superhuman energy before. It must have shown on my face or something, too, because even though I hadn’t told Shae about what had happened last night, she kept looking at me funny and asking if I felt completely well. After a couple of times of my insisting that nothing was out of sorts, she finally moved on to talking about the Scotland trip.

  “He’s coming by my room around two o’clock and we’ll go to the train station from there.” I hoped I didn’t sound too ridiculously excited.