by Shelby Gates
He stared at me for a long moment. “Damn, Jess,” he breathed. He lifted his glass and drained his drink. “Alright. Alright.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, totally confused.
His eyes twinkled. “It means I can be your Alabama.”
My stomach knotted again. I picked up my drink but it was empty. I stared into the empty glass, my emotions teeter-tottering back and forth.
I wanted this guy. He was sexy as hell and he wanted me. No one had ever wanted me. No one had ever looked at me the way he did, touched me the way he did. I felt desired. Lusted after.
But if I did this, there was no going back. It was like pushing the button on an arsenal of nuclear weapons. It would start the chain reaction. I'd be on my way...fucking my way through the states.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and made my decision.
“Come back to my room with me,” I said, my words coming out in a rush. “Be my Alabama.”
TWELVE
Adam's mouth found mine the minute we walked through the door to my hotel room.
He reached for me, his fingers threading through my hair, his breath hot on my cheek. “I've wanted to kiss you all night,” he breathed, his lips moving against mine.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and his hands shifted to my hips, pulling me tight to him. He fitted me to him, my breasts pressed against his chest, his thigh wedged between my legs. His lips opened against mine and his tongue traced my upper lip and he tasted like whiskey, warm and spicy and intoxicating as hell. I held tight, my fingers at the nape of his neck, my nails digging in to his skin.
It had been a long time since I'd felt anything remotely like desire. It hadn't existed in my marriage to Brian, even in the earliest days of our relationship.
He pushed me up against the wall. “This is what you want, right?” he asked, his hands sliding from my hips to my ribcage.
Weakly, I nodded.
“You're sure?” he asked. His hands drifted higher, his fingers brushing my breasts. “I don't want to do anything you don't want to do...”
My head was fuzzy with alcohol but I knew exactly what I wanted.
I wanted to be desired.
I wanted to be ravished.
I wanted him.
“There's nothing I don't want to do,” I whispered.
His eyes were hot and harsh with desire. “You're sure?” he repeated.
I nodded.
It was all the invitation he needed. His hands closed over my breasts and his mouth crushed against mine and I whimpered, more from surprise and a fresh surge of desire than from any pain. His hands drifted again, back down my sides, tugging at the skirt of my dress. He hiked it up over my hips, his fingers touching and dancing across my exposed skin. He caressed my thighs and I whimpered again, the ache between my legs growing stronger by the second.
Adam guided me to the bed, walking me backward, his hands still on my thighs. The backs of my legs hit the edge of the mattress and he nudged me into it, one hand leaving my leg so he could brace our fall. I sank into the soft mattress, my skirt still hiked above my waist and he lowered himself on to me. His mouth found my neck and he rained kisses on my heated skin. Kisses turned to nibbles, his teeth gently sinking into my flesh and a sigh escaped from my lips.
“You like?” he murmured, his breath hot. “Feel good?”
Wordless, I nodded. His mouth and his hands were doing things to me that I'd never experienced before. I was lost in a sea of alcohol-laced lust and desire and all I could focus on was how he was making me feel. Wanted. Desired.
His head dipped lower and, with one hand, he tugged the top of my dress down, freeing my breasts. He pushed aside my bra and his mouth fastened on to my skin. His tongue flicked over my nipple, teasing me, and I writhed against him, my hands digging into his shirt. I was desperate to touch him.
He straightened, gazing down at me, his face harsh with desire. Moonlight filtered through the sliding glass door, casting shadows on his face. His green-gold eyes reflected the light and his hair looked almost golden.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered.
My heart fluttered in response. No one had ever spoke those words to me before. Not on a date and not in the throes of passion. He reached for his shirt and tugged it over his head and my eyes shifted from his face to his chest. His skin was tan and smooth, his chest and ab muscles flexed tight and I touched my hand to him. He drew in a sharp breath and, instinctively, I pulled away.
“Touch me,” he commanded.
I lay my palm flat against his chest, my thumb grazing his nipple. It hardened into a little bud and he drew in another sharp breath. I pulled away again but this time, he covered my hand and kept it on his skin. I ran my fingers across his chest, keeping my touch light. His mouth covered mine again and his hands moved back to my body, running up and down my sides, my hips. His hand dipped lower and his fingers slid under the elastic of my panties. I thrust toward him and I could feel the smile on his lips.
“You want me to touch you, don't you?” he murmured. He danced his fingers inside my panties, his fingers drifting closer. He slipped one finger inside of me, then two, and I bucked up against him trying to draw him deeper inside of me.
“Touch me,” he rasped again.
I did as I was told. I slid my hand between us and found the button on his shorts. I fumbled with it, trying to undo it, but my fingers wouldn't cooperate. He rolled off of me and tugged at his shorts, undoing the button and yanking down the zipper. He lifted his hips and I pulled them down, exposing skintight black boxer briefs. He kicked off his shorts and repositioned himself on top of me, his arousal hard and firm against my stomach. I reached my hand between us again and stroked him through the fabric and he groaned, arching his back. I grabbed him through his briefs and he gasped and thrust into me. He was hot and firm in my hand and all I wanted was to feel him moving inside of me.
“I want...” My voice trailed off. I knew what I wanted but I didn't know how to ask for it.
“You want what?” he asked. His teeth nipped my lip. “Tell me.”
“I...”
“You want me to fuck you?” he whispered, pushing himself into me. His fingers had stilled inside of me but he started moving them again, plunging into me. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” I managed, my voice raw. I arched into his touch and that was all the invitation he needed.
He reached for my dress, pulling it up and over my head. He pulled me into a sitting position and, with his free hand, managed to undo my bra. My breasts sprang free and he tossed the lacy white fabric to the floor. He came down on top of me, his chest pressed into my breasts, his heated skin setting me on fire with desire.
He yanked my panties down and pulled his own briefs off. I could feel the muscles in his legs, the wiry hair that coated his skin. He positioned himself between my legs, his arousal pressing hot and firm into my thigh. He grabbed my hand and guided it to his cock and my fingers fluttered against the smooth skin. He pushed into my hand, welcoming me, just as eager for my touch as I was for his.
“Grab me,” he commanded.
I closed my hand around his shaft and he groaned. He thrust into my hand, rocking back and forth, his head thrown back, his eyes shut tight. I gripped him harder, firmer and his mouth opened slightly, his face a mask of desire.
His eyes flew open. “I need you,” he whispered. “Right now.”
Somewhere in the back of mind, I remembered condoms. I tried to sit up but he pushed me back on to the bed.
“Wait,” I told him. “We need...”
He didn't let me finish. His mouth closed down on mine again, his tongue forcing its way between my lips. He kissed me hungrily, thoroughly and I kissed him back, desperate for all that he was offering me.
Adam tore his mouth away from mine. “I know what we need,” he said.
He lifted himself off of me and reached toward the nightstand. He held up a small square package and brought it to h
is mouth. I glanced at the brand—it wasn't from the box Paige had packed for me and I wondered when he'd pulled it from his shorts or wallet. Using his teeth, he tore the package open.
“Put it on me,” he said.
I took it from him. I'd never put a condom on a guy and I wasn't sure I knew how. But Adam guided my hand, his fingers covering mine as I rolled it over the tip of his cock and pulled it down to cover him.
He smiled and settled himself between my legs. Instinctively, I lifted my knees and he hovered above me, his eyes locked on mine.
“This is what you want?”
I nodded.
His eyes didn't leave mine as he slowly eased his cock into me. I gasped, as much from the sensation as from the finality of what I was doing. I was having sex. Amazing, uninhibited, no-strings attached sex. And it was incredible.
Adam moved in and out of me slowly, controlling the pace. The long strokes stimulated every nerve ending in my body. I ran my hands down his smooth back and clutched at his ass, finding more hard muscle. Sweat dripped from his chest onto mine and I pressed my body into his, our slick skin sliding against each other.
He pumped quicker, watching me, waiting for me to respond. I arched again beneath him, each thrust hotter and harder than the last. He dropped his head to my chest and he slowed the pace, sliding all the way out of me and waiting a beat before driving into me again. I writhed underneath him, feeling the heat build inside of me.
His mouth covered my breast and his teeth caught my nipple. He bit down gently as he drove into me again, this time harder.
“Yes,” I said, my eyes closed, my body rocking in rhythm with his. Desire bubbled inside of me and I clamped my hands to his skin, digging my fingers into his flesh. He responded by increasing his tempo, his thighs slapping against mine as he drove harder, faster.
I could feel his breath on my neck as he fucked me, short gasps of air as he pounded into me over and over. A wave of heat built inside of me and I shifted underneath him, desperate for release. His breathing went ragged and the muscles in his thighs tensed and I felt the wave begin to crest and wash over me.
I met him, thrust for thrust, as an orgasm tore through me and I cried out. He shivered and pulsated inside of me, groaning, his mouth pressed to my neck. He spasmed inside of me and then his arms went limp and he crashed on top of me, gasping.
I loosened my grip on him and breathed deeply, sated and spent. He shifted on to his side and threw his arm over my chest.
“That was nice,” he murmured, his eyes closed.
Nice. I looked at the naked man collapsed next to me. It had not been nice.
It had been exhilarating.
Liberating.
Sensual.
Paige was right.
Sleeping with a guy was far different than fucking him.
THIRTEEN
I pulled the sheet over me and opened my eyes.
I blinked a couple of times, trying to orient myself. I remembered where I was.
And who I was with.
My head felt clouded, a slight pain lurking behind my temples, the result of one too many alcoholic beverages the night before. I focused my gaze on the sliding glass door. It was almost morning but the southern sky was still mostly dark, the navy clouds barely tinged with pink. At some point, Adam and I had slipped under the covers and fallen asleep. I didn't remember when but I could vividly recall his arm draped across me throughout the night, his breathing soft and even next to my ear.
I shifted slightly, my leg rubbing against his. I loved the feel of his muscled calves, the wiry hairs covering them tickling my own smooth skin. I pushed my lower half into him, feeling his half-arousal. I felt a twinge deep inside of me. I wanted to feel him again, moving inside of me, driving into me.
I smiled. I liked what I'd done with him the night before. And I liked Adam.
I pushed into him again and he stirred. I shifted so I could look at him.
“Hey,” I whispered.
He offered me a sleepy smile. “Hey.”
I stared at him for a minute, drinking in his half-lidded green-gold eyes and the morning stubble that dotted his chin. I wanted to say something clever, something sexy, but post casual sex conversation wasn't something I was good at. In fact, it was something I'd never done.
Adam yawned. “What time is it?”
I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Seven,” I said. “A little after.”
His eyes widened. “Shit. Really?”
“Is that a problem?”
He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I have to be to work at eight.”
“Oh.”
He smiled apologetically at me. “Back to reality.”
I tried to smile back.
Reality.
I wasn't sure what that was anymore.
“Give me a second,” he said. He lifted the sheet off and, naked, strode from the bed to the bathroom. He closed the door and, a few seconds later, the toilet flushed and the sink turned on.
He was back in bed a minute later, nestled up against me, his dick pressing into me. “You a fan of morning sex?” he whispered against my ear.
I didn't want to admit that I'd never had morning sex. “Maybe.”
“Why don't we find out?” he suggested. His hand closed over my breast and an involuntary sigh escaped from my mouth. He knew exactly how to touch me, exactly what words to say.
He leaned down and kissed my neck and I moved my head backwards, giving him access to my entire throat. His lips moved softly across my skin and his hand slid down my side. I could already feel my body responding to him, to his voice, to his warmth. I moved my hips just enough so that they were square to his. I kissed his chest and I could feel his arousal swell against my leg, quick and hard.
I rolled back the other way, yanked the nightstand dresser open and pulled out a condom, one of mine this time. I tore it open and turned back to him. He moaned softly as I wrapped it on him, thrusting into my hand. I loved how thick and hard he felt in my hands and remembered with aching clarity how he'd felt just hours before.
He moved me onto my back and didn't waste any time as he slid inside of me. He pinned my hands on either side of my head and I clung to him, wrapping my legs around him. He increased his tempo, a frenzied dance of skin on skin and I rocked with him, matching his movements, feeling the heat build inside of me. I gripped his hips and he gasped and shuddered inside of me just as I climaxed, a hard moan on my lips.
He rested his weight on top of me and I hugged him to me, waiting for my heart rate to return to something normal. I wondered if he could feel my heart beating a hundred miles an hour. I let my fingers trail over his back, loving how his skin felt against my fingertips.
He lifted his head and looked at me, a sleepy smile on his face. “I wish I could stay.”
“Me, too.”
He yawned. He shifted off of me and sighed. “I could use a few more hours of sleep.”
I could use something else, I thought. More time in bed with you. Not sleeping.
Adam ran his hand through his hair. “Mind if I hop in the shower real quick?”
I shook my head.
He got out of bed and headed to the bathroom again. The shower turned on and I heard the glass shower door open, then close. I sat up, pulling the sheet over my breasts. I didn't have to look at my reflection to know my hair was a tangled mess. I glanced around the room. There were clothes strewn everywhere—my dress lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and my panties had somehow ended up on the nightstand. I didn't see my bra. Adam's clothes were scattered, too.
I chuckled and thought about snapping a picture and texting it to Paige.
But I didn't want to. I wanted to keep the last twenty-four hours for me. I'd had a great encounter with a gorgeous guy who'd shown me just how great sex could be. And I wanted more with him. I thought about the rest of the week. Maybe I could extend my stay at the hotel, tack on a few extra days instead of traveling to a different part of Alabama. Adam
could show me more of what Perdido Beach had to offer...and more of what he had to offer, too.
The water in the bathroom turned off and I felt a small twinge of disappointment. I should have joined him in there. Check another experience off the list.
I sighed. Next time, I thought. Next time we'll shower.
I smiled. Like tonight.
I crawled out from under the sheet and pulled on new panties, then located my bra on the side of the bed. I'd just snapped the clasp when the bathroom door opened and a freshly showered Adam walked out, a white bath towel wrapped snugly around his lower half.
He ran his hands through his damp hair, pushing it away from his face, and smiled. “Sorry. Just needed to freshen up.”
“No worries,” I said.
Adam slipped back into his briefs and then his shorts, the towel still tied around him. He buttoned his shorts, then undid the towel and hung it on the bathroom doorknob. His shirt was draped over the small sitting chair and he pulled it on. He stared at the glass door, checking his reflection, his hand flying to his head to mess with his hair.
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was 7:45. “I should probably get going.”
“Okay.” I was suddenly acutely aware that I was standing there in my underwear. I pulled open the dresser drawer closest to me and yanked out a tank top and a pair of denim shorts. I pulled them on as quickly as I could.
He stretched like an old dog, his arms reaching high over his head as he yawned. His arms dropped to his sides and he chuckled, almost to himself.
“What?” I asked, buttoning my shorts.
“Just thinking about you and your...mission,” he answered, still smiling. “It's sort of an 'out there' idea. In a good way,” he added quickly.
“Well,” I said, trying to get a hand through my messy hair. My fingers snarled in the tangles. “Plans can always change.”
He frowned. “What? No way. You gotta follow through. Your friends would never forgive you. And you would never forgive yourself.”
“They would,” I said slowly. “If I met the right guy...”
The words hung between us and he stared at me for a minute, a small smile on his face.