She couldn’t help feeling flattered—and utterly feminine.
“She has great tits, too,” Braden said.
She gasped, letting her eyes go wide on him as heat filled her cheeks. “Braden!”
But her lover only grinned. “Sorry, honey—that just came out. Tommy here happens to be a connoisseur of fine breasts, so I figured he’d be interested.”
“Is that so?” Laura shifted her gaze to her other dinner companion, drunk enough to have forgotten her embarrassment that quickly.
Tommy flashed a mischievous smile. “I just have a habit of . . . noticing that about women. More than other guys, I’ve been told. But hell, what can I say—I like boobs.” His grin was so endearing that Laura didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable with the conversation, and she couldn’t help thinking both Tommy and Braden were getting a little drunk themselves—each having downed several beers over the pizza.
“Let me guess,” Laura said. “The bigger the better.”
Tommy spread his hands and shrugged, admitting it. “But,” he added, “I’m getting tired of fake ones that are too big. If a girl wants a little enhancement, cool—but they go overboard sometimes.” He didn’t bother with subtlety as he dropped his gaze to Laura’s chest. “I can tell yours are real—and pretty damn perfect, too. Am I right?”
Braden answered before she could concoct a reply. “Damn straight, they’re perfect.”
She cast him a sexy smile, her breasts feeling heavy, achy now, and her cunt rippling with sensation. Not only did she like being with them both—she liked being the center of their attention, and liked knowing they both found her body attractive. With Braden, it was nothing new, but Tommy’s added presence seemed to somehow amplify her sensuality.
After dinner, they moved to the living room, all settling on the sofa as the adjacent chair was piled with towels Braden had run through the washing machine earlier but hadn’t yet folded. She couldn’t help recalling it was the same sofa where she’d touched herself for Braden.
He sat at one end and Laura leaned her head back against his chest. His arms came around her in a cozy, easy embrace, and his thumb hooked into the top of her jeans, his fingers caressing just below, over-top the denim. A couple of inches lower and his caress would have been a fondle. Tommy sat opposite them, and she was tempted to remind Braden they had company—yet she didn’t, for reasons she couldn’t explain to herself.
“Laura got to see Stan and Candy going at it earlier,” Braden tossed out.
She supposed it should have embarrassed her, but nothing seemed to at this point.
“Ah. What did you think of their little show?” Tommy asked on a deep laugh.
Intoxication made her unflinchingly honest. “He’s pretty hot for an older guy. And she had great breasts.”
“Definitely fake,” Tommy pointed out, one finger in the air, “but as fake ones go, yeah, they’re pretty nice.”
Laura let her gaze widen on him. “You’ve seen them, too?” Was there anyone who hadn’t seen Stan and Candy having sex?
Tommy nodded, chuckling as he shifted sideways to pull one knee up beside him on the couch, and Laura became aware that her sock-covered foot, stretched out along the cushions, now touched his jean-clad thigh. Normally, she would have pulled her foot back, but neither of them made the effort to move. His leg felt thick and warm. “I keep an eye on Braden’s place in between his visits,” he explained. “Came down one day last winter to spend a few hours just running water through the pipes, turning on the gas fireplace for a while, that sort of thing, and sure enough—as soon as my truck shows up, I glance out the window and see Stan and Candy bouncing around in the window.”
The tips of Braden’s large fingers skimmed back and forth across the front of Laura’s jeans, his sexy touches now officially setting her pussy on fire. She’d never been in a situation like this—having one man excite her while she looked into the eyes of another.
But look she did, since Tommy kept talking. “So how long are you staying here with Braden?”
“Just a few more days.” She didn’t like thinking about that, her “retreat” coming to an end—and so far, she’d chosen not to think about it. For the moment, she remained very much in the present, with Braden’s fingers stroking just above her mound as her foot touched Tommy’s muscular thigh and she looked into his very blue eyes.
Silence pervaded then—Tommy said no more, and neither did she. She wasn’t sure if she could have kept conversing anyway—her throat began to feel clogged, as if that layer of sensuality she’d noticed earlier was pressing down now, almost smothering her. Her breasts felt tight within the cups of her bra—her pussy swollen against the denim that covered it.
“Well,” Tommy said, his voice lower than usual and sounding a bit thick, “I think it’s time for me to go.”
Laura didn’t answer, and neither did Braden. She wanted to get naked with Braden—fast—but also didn’t really want Tommy to leave just yet since she was enjoying his company. And enjoying having her foot against his thigh. Outrageous a realization as it was, she couldn’t deny it. A long, quiet moment passed, that sensuality almost tangible, weighting the air. Until finally, Braden said, “Uh, yeah, I guess so.”
Laura let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
As they all got to their feet, Tommy thanked them for the invitation, and Braden said, “You bought the pizza, man—I should be thanking you,” and Laura tried to examine what had just happened. Why had they all hesitated when Tommy announced his departure? Were Braden and Tommy feeling what she felt—some confusing sensual chemistry between them all that defied definition? Or was it only her, half-intoxicated and completely misreading it, seeing something that wasn’t there, except maybe in her own mind?
As they moved to the door and Tommy put on a brown leather jacket, he shook Braden’s hand, then lifted one palm to Laura’s cheek, leaning in to kiss the other. Like every sensation that had struck her in the last hour or so, she felt the kiss down below, her vaginal muscles flexing as he pulled away.
“Good night,” he said, then exited out into the dark.
Both she and Braden turned to look at each other. “Great guy, huh?” he asked, but his eyes were glassy with the same emotions currently buffeting her.
She nodded. “Yeah. Very . . . pleasant. Easy to be around.” And he has nice thighs. “I was afraid you were going to rub my pussy right in front of him.” She raised her gaze to his, gauging his reaction.
“I was tempted,” he replied. “You felt too good, baby.”
She slid her arms up around his neck, leaning in to press her body to his. “Well, now we’re alone so you can indulge yourself.”
They lay in Braden’s big bed, the snow cover outside combining with the moonlight to cast a glow over the room. His head rested between her legs and hers between his, and for the first time in her life she understood the true thrill of the sixty-nine position. As Braden rhythmically laved her most sensitive flesh, she sucked his cock deeply, at times releasing it to let it fall between her breasts.
His moans as she cradled his length between the two mounds of flesh reminded her that he’d mentioned wanting to slide between them in one of those early instant message exchanges that seemed so long ago now. This position made it easy, almost natural, and the feel of his hard shaft between her soft breasts filled her with more pleasure than she could have imagined. But then everything was different with Braden—every kiss, every look, every sexual encounter was more intense and, in turn, more satisfying than anything she’d known up to now.
As she lifted his wet shaft from between her breasts to wrap her lips back around the head, he delivered a sudden and incredible pressure to her cunt. Oh God, what was that? She cried out—then realized he’d pushed their old friend the vibrator inside her when she’d least expected it.
Her body’s natural response was to meet the slow, firm thrusts he now delivered, although she let his cock fall from her mouth to breat
he, “Where did that come from?” She didn’t even know the last time she’d seen it. Not that she was complaining. It made for a very welcome intrusion. His moist tongue on her clit and the toy inside her at the same time brought on a whole new sumptuous pleasure.
“Found it under the bed,” he rasped.
“Oh God,” she sighed, meeting another thrust, taking the sex toy deeper.
“Feel good, honey?”
“Mmm” was all she could say.
And all she even wanted to say—because she had better things to do with her mouth. She suddenly wanted it back around his penis—badly—and didn’t hesitate to wrap her fist around his length and pull his powerful erection back between her eager lips.
She sucked him vigorously, even more than before, as he drove the vibrator into her below. Oh God, the waves of delight that shook her, consumed her—not orgasm, but a marvelous feeling of such fullness that she couldn’t have conceived of it before experiencing it. His shaft in her mouth and another in her pussy. Being filled in both openings somehow delivered more than just twice the pleasure—just like having the attention of two men earlier.
Of course, this was more intense. This was hot, raw, swallowing sex. She let it do that—swallow her. She quit thinking and only responded. His mouth worked just above the toy—she couldn’t see but thought he was sucking her clit. She sobbed her pleasure around the erection between her lips, stunned and amazed and as deep into pleasure as she’d ever been.
She’d always enjoyed going down on Braden—way more than with other men—but now even that was different. She wanted him to fuck her mouth, actively fill it as he filled her below. She knew a desire for hardness, for maleness, that she’d never known before this moment, an almost blinding lust to be overtaken in every way, to have her whole body filled with him.
She pulled him to her mouth, silently urging him to thrust. Yes, yes. He drove in firm, short lunges. And below, the marvelous vibrator fucked her and his sweet tongue laved her. Frantic cries erupted from her throat, around his length. Her whole body felt pleasantly pummeled with hard male shafts, and she moved against both, maddened by the glorious sensations stretching through her.
The orgasm struck with little warning, forcing her to release his cock as she screamed her joy. “Oh God, baby, oh God!” The pulses of heat racked her from head to toe, over and over, almost violent in their intensity, to leave her thoroughly spent when it was done.
Opening her eyes to see his majestic erection still only a few inches away, glistening from her ministrations, she gently kissed the tip, a tiny thank you for such overwhelming pleasure.
Below, he slowly extracted the vibrator, then shifted in bed to come face to face with her in the shadowy room. His eyes gleamed wickedly. “Was that as good as it sounded?”
She drew in her breath. “Completely mind-blowing.”
Once upon a time she would have said, This isn’t me, this isn’t me. But she’d long since stopped that. Because, now, it was her.
Chapter Twelve
“Wake up, snowflake. It’s a beautiful day and you need to get outside.”
Laura opened bleary eyes, surprised to see her lover standing over her, fully dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt open over a dark green T-shirt, and sturdy outdoor boots. He looked as rugged and handsome as ever, one lock of dark hair dipping recklessly over his forehead, his chin dusted with stubble.
“You know I need to write,” she said. Just like yesterday, spending the day with him would be delicious, but she had to protect herself. This was now officially more about her heart than the book—she was just growing way too close to him the last couple of days.
“Don’t worry. I’m not trying to drag you away from your work—but it occurred to me that you literally haven’t set foot outside this house since you got here, and it’s a sunny day, so we’re having breakfast on the deck.”
She blinked her surprise. “Um, isn’t the deck covered with snow?”
“Not since I just shoveled it. Now come on, get up. I’ve got eggs ready to fry and English muffins ready to toast. Just pull on a pair of sweats, shoes, and your coat while I cook, and I’ll meet you at the back door in ten minutes.”
As Braden turned and walked away, Laura simply stared after him, blinking yet again. Oddly, it felt almost as if he were . . . wooing her or something. Or, at the very least, caring about her a little, concerned to see her get outdoors. She hadn’t thought about that—how confined she’d been here. As she’d recognized before, she rather enjoyed the strange sense of isolation, given that it came with a sexy, commanding lover. And she couldn’t help but think it would be freezing outside. But if Braden had cleared the deck and was making her breakfast, she wasn’t inclined to refuse.
After locating panties and a pair of black jogging pants, she tossed on last night’s sweater, then found a thick pair of socks and laced her boots up over them. It was only as she walked into the kitchen, saying, “Hey,” that it occurred to her what an awful outfit it made.
He didn’t seem to notice, merely turning from the stove with a smile on his face and a spatula in his hand. “Grab me a couple of plates from the cabinet, snowflake?” Then he expertly flipped an egg in the skillet.
“Sure,” she murmured, falling a little more in love with him. He was her perfect lover, she thought, standing there staring at his flannel-clad back. He pushed and persuaded her past her normal boundaries to bring her unfathomable pleasure—and yet, at the same time, he was so easy to be with, like right now. Her perfect man. And she was leaving him in a few short days.
“Plates?” he asked.
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.” She scurried to get them, then watched as he plopped flawless eggs onto each just as four muffin halves popped from the toaster.
She rushed to grab her winter jacket from the foyer closet and a moment later, they were sitting down at a wooden picnic table built into the deck. Although the sun had already dried away most of the wetness left by the now, she noticed Braden had brought out thick towels for them to sit on.
“This is nice,” she said, smiling over at him as she forked up a bite of her eggs. To her surprise, the sun was so bright that it made the cold manageable, more brisk and refreshing than bitter. The view of snow-covered mountains as far as the eye could see was gorgeous, maybe even more than usual because she could feel the mountain air and see just how far the expanse of blue stretched overhead.
It was as if he read her mind. “Nothing like a clear Colorado morning.”
“How did you come to buy a house here anyway?”
“I used to take ski trips to the area with friends back in college. Over time, I fell in love with the place—and with the stark contrast from L.A.—so when I had enough money for a second home, Vail seemed a natural choice.”
“I’m . . . glad you made that choice,” she ventured, a bit timidly. “If you hadn’t, I would never have met you, never have had this time with you.”
“Good point,” he said, chin perched in his fist, elbow balanced on the table. “I’m glad I made that choice, too, snowflake.”
For some reason, it was a sobering moment for Laura. Because as sweet as he was being, she knew it meant more to her than to him. He didn’t say it—nor did his voice or his eyes—it was just something she knew inherently. He was a man of the world, a man who took lovers, had affairs. It had to mean more to her than to him, was undoubtedly more of an unprecedented event in her life—something life altering, in fact, she had to admit.
Not so for him.
Just take it for what it is. Soak it up. Enjoy the sex. Enjoy him.
And try not to worry that this span of time with him will be the defining period of your entire life. Try not to worry that it will never be this good, this utterly grand, again.
“You were right,” she said, ready to return to a normal, easy topic. “It’s good to get out in the sun for a little while.”
He nodded, a sexy yet superior look gracing his face. “The smart little snowflake woul
d take a bigger break, let me take her skiing. Or we could drive over to Breckenridge. Cute little ski town with lots of cafes and shops you’d probably like.”
Tempting, oh so tempting. But . . . “No, the smart little snowflake has a book to finish. So as nice as this breakfast is, I have to go back inside and get to work soon.”
He let out a groan of frustration. “You know, honey, I’m about as much of a workaholic as there is, but even I know it’s wise to take a break and refuel every now and then.”
She gave her head a knowing tilt. “And I’m willing to bet that if you had some big deal on the table right now that was time-sensitive, you’d be working at it night and day until it was done instead of wanting to play in the snow.”
He lowered his chin, narrowed his gaze on her, and let out a sigh. “Point taken.” Then, popping the last bite of a buttery English muffin into his mouth, he wiped his hands on a napkin and pushed to his feet. “Before you go, though . . .”
“What?”
“Stand up.”
She flashed a speculative look in his direction, thinking his expression had just shifted to a darker and oh-so-familiar one, even beneath the bright morning sun. “Why?”
Without answering, he rounded the table and took her hand, leading her across the large deck until she faced that same striking view of Vail and beyond. He stood behind her, hands pushing up under her coat to close warm on her hips. He leaned into her from behind, and even through the jacket, she could feel his hard-on. “Thought I’d give you a little morning treat before you go inside,” he breathed near her ear.
She looked over her shoulder into seductive brown eyes, offering her sexiest grin. “One problem—that’s not little.”
He returned the smile. “Your fault.”
“I guess you should make me pay then.”
He leaned closer, pulling back her messy hair to lower a kiss to her neck. “I intend to.”
As Braden’s hands gently began to push down her pants, just over her ass, the brisk air hit her and her pussy trembled with a mixture of sensations. She reflected on the fact that she stood on a snowy mountainside, her private parts exposed. She thought of Stan and Candy, and of Tommy, and of all those eyes she’d envisioned upon them in the dark the other night. She drew in her breath as Braden’s warm middle finger stroked into her, pleasure echoing through her from the touch.
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