by Cari Quinn
It wasn’t right. None of this was right. He should’ve known what a private meeting alone would lead to.
Maybe he had, and that part of him just didn’t care. If it hadn’t cared when he’d texted her about a picnic, it definitely didn’t now.
Perhaps his conscience would reemerge once he’d gotten off. Either way, he was glad to have a respite from the voice that always reminded him so relentlessly about all the ways he was fucking things up.
He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Not today.
“Gorgeous, Hol.”
Her throat worked but she didn’t say anything. A first.
There would be more, for both of them.
“Turn around, baby,” he said huskily, only realizing he’d used the term of endearment when her pupils flared. She obliged, her feet sliding a little in the dewy grass. Or maybe that was just nerves.
Funny, he wasn’t nervous anymore. Not even a little.
It felt as if he’d been meant to be in this position with her all along. He’d fought it so hard, but ultimately, he was right where he wanted to be. Even if he changed his mind about that tomorrow, now he was going to savor. Relish every damn second.
She clasped her hands in front of her and he made himself take the same visual trip over her back as he’d done with her front. More freckles, another expanse of exquisite pale skin. That dip in her spine, the dimples right above her ass. Those perfect cheeks, so round and bitable.
He fucking wanted to bite her ass. To leave marks there that she’d feel every time she sat down for the next two days.
Moving closer, he gripped her hips and spoke against her hair. She smelled like cocoa butter, reminding him of summer days and sunshine and all the freedom he’d so rarely let himself enjoy. “Your sexy-as-hell behind gives me very bad ideas.”
If he’d expected nerves or reticence, she wasn’t delivering. “Really? Something kinky?” Pure delight shaded her voice. “I’m game. Just give me a pillow to bite.”
“Jesus, Hol.” Not laughing was an impossibility. “I meant more like me biting you. But if you have something in mind…”
Yeah, that wasn’t him talking. Where exactly had he summoned that sly sexual tone? And she was responding, all right, rubbing back against him as if she was raring to go.
He had to find out.
Without warning, he slipped his hand between her thighs.
She braced against him then relaxed as he spread his fingers over her soft slit. Wet warmth clung to his palm as he slid one finger between her folds to tease her clit. The stiff bud pulsed and he pressed inward, circling with enough pressure that she rose up on her toes. Her gasp stilled his hand, but she wasn’t having any of that. She reached down to guide him just the way she liked, slowly at first then with growing intensity until she was soaking his hand.
Goddamn, she was so ready, making little mewling noises that were more suited to a darkened bedroom than the center of a sunny backyard.
Fuck, they were out in her yard in the middle of the day. Anyone could come upon them and see her, so beautifully, on display.
“Not yet,” he breathed against her ear, giving her one last rub. “We didn’t finish eating yet.”
Her groan would’ve made him laugh if he hadn’t been in pain. “If you’re hungry, I can give you some directions to a needy location…” She took a breath. “Due south.”
It was his turn to groan as he drew his hand from her and turned her toward him with his other hand. “I promised to feed you.”
While she glared, he tugged her back to the blanket and pulled her down beside him. He took off his shirt and pulled it over her head, making her sputter.
“My parents are gone. We’re all alone. Clothes aren’t necessary.”
“I want to see your perfect tits stretching against my shirt while I feed you.”
Eyes wide, she fell silent.
He rooted through the picnic basket and came out with a sprig of fat red grapes. Knowing full well which hand he was using, he broke off a few and set them on his thigh, then reached for the bottle of wine. He held the grapes over the edge of the blanket and splashed some wine on the fruit before he shifted back to Hollie. Her full lips were damp and trembling, so he traced the bottom one with a grape. “Open up for me, belleza.”
She did as he asked, biting into the grape. Once she’d chewed and swallowed, he slipped his finger inside, nearly shuddering at the wet flick of her tongue against his skin. “Tastes good?”
She nodded, and he knew she understood he wasn’t just referring to the fruit.
“Delicious.” She licked her lips and he shifted, trying futilely to ease the ache below his waist. “What does belleza mean?”
“Beauty.”
She glanced away but he gripped her chin and brought her attention back front and center. “Don’t look away when I tell you the truth.”
“Just not used to hearing it.”
“Well, time we rectify that.” He leaned closer and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I love looking at your hard nipples in my shirt. I bet they smell like me now.”
She took a ragged breath. “Stupid me, thinking you needed Spanish to talk dirty.”
He smiled and pulled off another couple of grapes, then popped them into his mouth. She tracked every movement as he chewed and swallowed, unconsciously tugging at the hem of his shirt. With the way she was sitting, the material barely covered her pussy. Her delicate dark hair and pink flesh were almost hidden by the shadows but he couldn’t drag his attention away.
She pulled again and he lost his view.
“Leave it,” he commanded. “Dios mio, me vuelvas loca.”
She took off her glasses and set them aside, then blinked up at him. “W-what does that mean?”
He looked up at her, belatedly hearing himself. He never spoke Spanish to anyone but his mother and a few friends and relatives back home in Juarez, but apparently she’d shaken the habit loose again. “My God, you drive me crazy,” he said, voice low.
“You too. I mean, you drive me crazy too.” She shimmied closer on the blanket, pushing aside the picnic basket. Before he could guess her intention, she laid a hand on his chest. “Your body is insane.”
He hissed from the coolness of her hand on his flame-hot skin. Then she slid it lower and gave him a look under her lashes. “Will you teach me some Spanish, Rafael?”
Her nails trailed lower, lower, and Christ, his dick might as well have been on a spring. It bobbed against the placket of his pants, threatening to tear right through. He’d hoped to keep things on a semi-reasonable level until they got into the water, just in case her brothers stopped by. Assuming, of course, that he could tempt his little daredevil into the cold creek. But she never operated on his timetable.
And thank God for that.
“Like what?” he asked as she toyed with his belt.
She undid it and pulled it out of the loops, winding the supple leather through her hands. “Oh, hmm.” She looked up at him playfully, still caressing his belt. “How about ‘Fuck me hard’?”
He reached for the wine bottle, then reached for a handful of her hair, dragging her lips to the bottle. “Maybe, if you take a nice long drink first.”
She sealed her lips around the bottle, moving them up and down in a way that should’ve been hilarious or obscene. Instead he tipped up the bottle from the bottom, leaning forward to lick the drops that slid down her chin. “Cógeme fuerte.”
“Cógeme fuerte,” she echoed, setting aside the bottle and flicking her tongue around to catch any stray droplets. “Am I saying it correctly?”
Without waiting for him to answer, she kicked the remnants of their lunch out of the way and rolled onto her belly between his legs. She reached for his zipper and yanked it down, following the path with little kisses she trailed down his stiff length.
He fisted his hand in her hair to slow her down—he was the one who should be on his knees for her, not the other way around—but she took it as encouragement inste
ad.
“God, yes. Pull my hair.” She shivered and wriggled on the blanket, causing his shirt to ride up her back. Christ. Her firm, bare ass tormented him, and the agony only got worse when she crossed her ankles and flexed her taut cheeks.
When she pried down his boxers and pulled him out, he didn’t offer an admonishment. More like a groan of fucking relief as her warm, wet mouth slid over the swollen tip. His hand tightened in her hair again, almost unintentionally, and she moaned around him, deeply enough that he pulled hard.
Her perfect ass bounced. And she purred in her throat, rippling around him as she sucked him inside.
Freaking hell.
Her pupils blew out as he jerked his hips, driving himself farther into her giving mouth. She choked a little then she was inching forward to accept more, her sexy blond hair swinging down to tease his balls as she did her best deep-throat impression.
He couldn’t keep from testing her again, using that handful of hair to guide her along his shaft. She was getting him so wet, and making the hottest dirty noises while she worked him, that he wasn’t sure how long he could hold back. It had been so long since he’d come.
The last time with a woman had been with her last summer, and look how that had turned out.
His vision hazed and sharpened again on the view. Gorgeous Hollie on her belly in front of him, moaning and sucking, her tight little ass bouncing as she blew him spectacularly.
Yeah, things could definitely be worse.
“Baby. Belleza.” One fist in her hair became two, but she only drew on him more hungrily. “I can’t stop.”
Her seductive eyes flashed up to his. She drew him out just long enough to whisper, “Then don’t,” before swallowing him down again, even deeper than before.
He couldn’t keep from snapping his hips upward and clenching his fingers in all those silky blond strands. Brown, blond, purple, green, it didn’t matter. What was important was that it was Hollie slurping him down.
Hollie. Just Hollie.
Her small hands chased the arousal that slipped out around the seal of her mouth and she used it to coat her movements. Those swollen pink lips engulfed him again and again while she devoured him with her lake-blue eyes…
Shit, he couldn’t wait. Not another second.
He drew her down as he surged upward on a shout. She took everything he had—loudly and without hesitation—and continued coaxing him on with her relentless sucking. And her hands, squeezing out more when he was sure he was tapped.
All it took was her to look up at him with that heavy-lidded gaze and he was pistoning deeper again, lost to the heaven of her throat.
She had to move back to breathe too soon. Reality crashed down on the back of his neck like an anvil as he glanced up at the darkening sky.
Twilight was coming and they hadn’t even finished their picnic.
“You fed me something else,” she said slyly, accurately reading his glance at the blanket. She swiped her hand over her chin and hell if he didn’t bob against his stomach again.
Her attention snagged on his cock. Lingered.
Unsurprisingly, he started to rouse. Just knowing she was watching him was enough to get him hard. Apparently even when he hadn’t yet caught his breath.
“So…recovery time.” She licked her lips, nice and slow. “What’s that like for you?”
8
Actually completing the sex act was starting to feel like skiing up Everest without the benefit of skis.
Hollie sighed. She could tell he was already regretting what they’d done, and holy fuck, she was going to beat him brainless.
He’d had a good time. She’d surely had a good time too, and she hadn’t even come. She wasn’t bitter about that, so what was his deal? Was he just pathologically averse to pleasure?
Or were his wine-and-horny goggles wearing off now that he’d had an orgasm?
She was about to ask him just that when the sound of gravel flying in the driveway and the roll of tires had her scrambling to her feet.
What the hell?
“No one’s supposed to be here,” she whispered as she dug around the edges of the blanket for her bikini top and bottoms. Score, she had the top. Now the bottoms.
She’d pulled them off right here. Where the hell had they gone?
“Here.”
She looked back to see Rafe holding them out on the tip of his finger. And his expression very clearly said I told you so.
Of course. Because he was the all-knowing wise one and she was just a dopey, sex-obsessed little girl.
Who still hadn’t had an orgasm that wasn’t self-created for at least six lunar cycles.
“My parents aren’t here. No one has any reason to stop by.”
“You’re here,” he said reasonably, zipping up his fly and slipping his belt back on.
She snatched back her bottoms and yanked them and her cutoff shorts up her still-shaky legs. Blowing him had shoved her damn close to the edge herself, and here he was, being all logical and shit.
He was very lucky she liked his cock, and still had hope for how he’d use it on her, or else he’d probably end up with it blocking his own windpipe.
No time for that now, not with who sounded like Colt and his significant others trooping through the place.
She glanced down at Rafe’s T-shirt and debated swapping it for her bikini top for all of three seconds. The sun had begun its descent and with it, the wind had come up. She was more than a little chilly, and happy nipples and a breeze were a recipe for high beams.
So shirt it was. Rafe could just wander around half naked.
She smiled triumphantly and balled the bikini top in her fist as the back door opened. Let him just explain his partial nudity.
And for Rafe, it truly was that, since he’d rarely bared his chest in recent years. Which was a crime against humanity, really, because woe.
“Hol?”
She turned to face her brother and his fiancée…and fiancé. Figured Hit-it-and-Quit-it Bennett could find two people to settle down with when he finally made the decision to abandon the single lifestyle. Not that he hadn’t made that decision before, since he’d been married to Rafe’s sister before Wade had.
Because apparently the Bennetts couldn’t stay away from the Martinezs.
Holy shit, her either. It was like a family sickness. They were all addicted. Though she was fairly certain Rafe put out a lot less than his sister, since Charli was certainly looking content and smug these days.
If Hollie got any greener, she’d be twinning it with Kermit.
“Hol?” Colt tried again, heading down the steps with Paige and Drake right behind him. They were all dressed in jeans and tees, and Drake was hauling a bag of charcoal briquettes and another bag that probably contained their dinner.
Guess they weren’t just driving by then.
“Yeah, hi.” Through some miracle, she located her glasses on the ground without stomping on them first. Thank God for a remaining beam of light catching on the glass. “You guys stopping by for a barbecue I didn’t know about?”
“Sorry, yeah, figured it’d be cool since Mom and Dad are out of town for the weekend. It’s warm enough we thought we could do the picnic thing on the bank of the creek before that cold front blows through in a few days. Paige really loves the creek.” He nudged Paige’s hip and she snorted.
“What your brother means is he’s hoping he can dunk me at the first opportunity when I don’t do what he wants.”
Colt grinned. “That too.”
Great. Colt and his lovers were looking to hook up at her house, when she herself had been in the process of hooking up.
Had she been born under a bad star or what?
“Hey Paige. Hi Drake.” She smiled, which was the extent of her Quinn hospitality at the moment. “Don’t you have your own grill?” she asked, barely checking the annoyance in her voice.
“Broken,” Colt said cheerfully. “Damn thing won’t catch. Oh, hey, Rafe. Didn’t see y
ou there.”
A quick glance back showed that of course Colt hadn’t seen Rafe, because he was crouched down in the advancing darkness, tidily picking up every bit of their picnic. Naturally.
Good times, I barely knew ye.
“No problem. Just hanging with Hollie. We were hoping to take a dip too, but you know, February. Not gonna happen. We’re not as adventurous as your Paige.” Rafe laughed and gestured at his bare chest, easily explaining away his shirtless state.
Easily explaining it away if you were sex-crazed Colt Bennett, who was oblivious to any sexual tension that didn’t live in his own pants.
Damn him. Damn them all.
“Paige isn’t that adventurous either. These jerks just don’t seem to care.” Paige shook her head at her two guys, then tapped her finger against her chin. “So you lost your shirt so you could swim, though it’s way too cold. Hmm.”
“No, I came over hoping to swim, but yeah, night comes too fast this time of year and it’s definitely chilly.” Rafe’s tone was butter-smooth. “Poor Hollie got cold in her tiny swim thing.”
Hollie frowned. Tiny swim thing? Clearly she’d have to do a swap with him—he could teach her dirty Spanish and she’d teach him basic items of clothing.
“So maybe you’re the adventurous one,” Paige mused, her doubt clear.
Clear to Hollie, but not any of the knuckleheaded males who’d already moved on to thoughtfully examine the charcoal briquettes and the grill. Rafe included, because circling a grill was a time-honored male task like clustering under the hood of a car as if they knew squat about what was happening.
Interest in her and half-naked Rafe—vanquished as if it had never been. Oh yeah, because it hadn’t.
Dammit, couldn’t a girl get caught inappropriately having sex anymore?
All right, she didn’t want her brother walking in on her doing the Humpty dance with Rafe. Ick. But still. What about some raised eyebrows, a little overprotectiveness, some judgy comments? Were those too much to ask for, really?
Wade had the overprotective thing all sewn up. He would’ve more than fulfilled that role. Colt, on the other hand, wouldn’t blink if she ran through the backyard waving a box of glow-in-the-dark condoms. Not if he was otherwise occupied anyway. He wasn’t big on subtleties.