by Cara Bristol
She sat in her old place, the chair to his left.
Roger passed her the papers, and she scanned them. The house would be appraised, after which time she had sixty days to refinance and buy out his half of the equity. “Looks good,” she agreed and signed next to Roger’s scrawl.
Fair, he’d called it a week ago when he’d conceded to let her have the house. It was all so odd, his sudden capitulation after months of stubborn refusal. Why now, she wondered. What had changed his mind?
“How is…Mila?” Saying the girl’s name felt awkward, as if her lips had been shot full of Novocain. Dana had never asked about the other woman. Never had wanted to hear her name mentioned, had never spoken it.
Roger arched his eyebrows in surprise. “She’s fine.”
Dana glanced at the document she’d just signed. “So things are progressing between you?”
“My relationship with Mila has nothing to do with the house. I don’t know why I acted like such an asshole. I guess I thought if I pissed you off, I’d feel less guilty about what I’d done.”
Dana pursed her lips. “I wasn’t aware you felt guilty.”
“Of course I felt guilty. I still do.” He smoothed a hand over his balding head, dislodged his comb-over. “Maybe it’s like you said—maybe this is the result of a midlife crisis, and it will all come back to bite me in the ass. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to pursue this chance at happiness.” He paused and took a breath. Dana was relieved to see the color had returned to his face.
“I met Mila’s parents the other day,” he said.
“Oh?” Dana leaned on her elbows. Once she might have fired off a sarcastic zinger, but curiosity held her tongue.
“Her father is a year younger than I am.” His tone told Dana the meeting hadn’t gone well. If Roger was surprised by the disapproval, he was the only one.
Dana thought of Lon. Would his parents view her as a lascivious Mrs. Robinson who had seduced their son? How would she and Lon handle the pressures? “You had to know how your relationship would be received.”
“I did.” Roger grimaced and massaged his knuckles. His hands showed the wear of a half century of living in the roughness of his skin, the slight arthritic swell of his joints. She could imagine the contrast of Mila’s youthful hands next to his. Roger’s chest lifted and fell in a deep breath. “I love her, Dana. She says she loves me. A part of me wonders if she’ll be gone when the novelty wears off, when she realizes what an old fart I am.”
Dana amazed herself that she could not only listen to her ex-husband profess his love and his fears without flying into a rage but also empathize with the poor bastard. She understood exactly how he felt.
Chapter Five
Arms folded, ankles crossed, Lon leaned against the wall and studied Dana, who made no effort to conceal her curiosity as she checked out his living room.
They’d been on their way to dinner when Lon pointed out his building, and Dana had asked to see his apartment. “It’s been a long time since a man has taken me to his place.” She had winked at him.
Dana ran her hand over the leather sofa, scrutinized the medical journals on the coffee table, eyed the items on his entertainment wall unit, and visually took stock of his books and music. “Very nice,” she said after she’d evaluated his digs.
Fucking fabulous. He mentally assessed her. The skirt she wore showed off her legs, but it was her tits, specifically her nipples, that captured his attention, the hard berries making distinctive points under her white blouse. She couldn’t possibly be wearing a bra. Every time she moved, her breasts shifted, and his gaze followed the movement of those nipples under the fabric.
“You were expecting a brick-and-board bookshelf and a hand-me-down futon?”
“Not exactly.” A telltale pink tinted her cheeks. She clasped her hands and turned to study an abstract sculpture of twisted metal. “This is interesting,” she commented.
“An artist buddy of mine created that.”
“I like it.” She turned to look at Lon.
“I like you.” More than a week had passed since their last real date, and with every passing moment, he thought of her more. A brief meet for coffee and a quick sandwich in the hospital cafeteria did little to alleviate his longing, while their late-night phone conversations only increased his libido. The mere sound of her sexy voice could stiffen his cock, and when she talked about sucking it…Christ almighty. But his need was more than sexual. He craved her company.
“I like you too.” Dana’s eyes appeared huge in her face, as if her admission surprised her.
Lon shoved off from the wall and padded toward her. “I’ll see you one ‘like’ and raise you one ‘I missed you,’” he said and brushed his lips against hers. She curled her arms around his neck, melded her form to his. With a groan, he kissed her in earnest, darting his tongue inside her mouth. Dana tasted sweet—a condition his dick noted and responded to. He tried to place her taste and decided she reminded him of peaches.
“Butterscotch,” she murmured.
“What?” He blinked in surprise.
“You.” She kissed him. “Taste.” She drew his lower lip into her mouth. “Like butterscotch.”
He nibbled on her mouth. “I have—used to have—a weakness for butterscotch candies.” He kissed her again.
She threaded her fingers through his hair, sending an erotic zing from his skull to his cock. “Used to?” She stared into his eyes.
“I’m addicted to something else now.”
“What?”
“You.” He shook his head in mock lament. “And there’s no treatment program, no 12-step, no patch I can wear.”
Dana wiggled her hand between their bodies and found his cock, no difficult feat, considering how rigid he was. She massaged him through his khakis from crown to base and stroked back up again. His knees and his resolve weakened.
“You keep doing that, and we’ll miss our dinner reservations,” he warned. He’d planned to take her to a nice restaurant to show he intended to date her and not engage in an illicit affair. She meant more to him than a quick fuck—or even a long one.
Dana squeezed his cock and pressed her lips to the intersection of his neck and shoulder. She traced the fading teeth marks with her tongue. “I am feeling hungry.”
A streak of fire rolled through him at her touch, at the memory of where and how he’d received the love bite. He’d welcome another hickey and any more she cared to deliver, to be sheathed inside her.
“You’re undermining my noble intentions.” He growled and hauled her close to trap her marauding hands. Bad move. It only pressed her pelvis more firmly against him.
“You have noble intentions?” She swirled circles over his nipple, which instantly hardened. “My intentions are naughty. Very naughty,” she purred.
“It’ll be on your head when they give away our reservation.” He was losing the battle, but he would not surrender gracefully. At least not verbally. He moved to cup the breasts that had transfixed him since the moment he’d picked her up, but she twisted out of his grasp before he could so much as graze those beauties.
“Not yet. You’ll spoil the surprise.” She dropped her chin and peered at him from beneath her lashes.
A surge of heat ripped through him. “What is it?” He had a surprise for her too. Well, for both of them. Or maybe just him. She might not get off on what he had planned, but she might go along with it to please him; she was a sport.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Dana unzipped his fly, tugged at his shorts, and released his cock. “Promise you won’t touch me yet.”
He stared at her. “Are you kidding me?” he protested but fisted his hands at his sides. He’d play along. At least for a little while.
She stroked his cockhead, massaging the precum into his flesh, before shoving his shorts and pants farther down his legs and wrapping her hand around his shaft. He had scant time to recover from the stream of pleasure her hand elicited before she bent and dre
w him into her mouth. “Son of a bitch!” he hissed.
She alternated sucking with swirling her tongue around the head and teasing his weeping slit. Her grip contained the right amount of firmness as she fisted his rod in a vertical motion designed to drive him insane. Lon clutched her head and twisted her hair around his fingers to bind her to him. When Dana drew him deep and he touched the back of her throat, his legs threatened to cave from the exquisite torment.
He mustered the willpower to yank away but nearly lost control anyway at the sight of Dana swaying in front of him—her lips reddened and swollen, her hair mussed from his roving hands, her eyes promising all manner of lustful pleasures, and those incredible nipples distending her blouse.
She smoothed her palms over his chest and began to unbutton his shirt.
Lon squeezed his fists. “Can I touch you yet?”
“No.”
“You’re gonna kill me.”
Dana smiled. “It’s a good thing there’s a doctor in the house, then, isn’t it?”
Lon nodded like a bobble-headed doll and toed off his shoes. Dana knelt and sucked his balls into her mouth, then trailed her tongue the length of his cock. His erection jerked under her teasing tongue. “You don’t play fair, lady,” he said, deciding he most definitely would introduce his little surprise.
Dana rose to her feet. She arched her eyebrows and posed, one hand on a hip thrust forward. “Aren’t you going to give me the rest of the tour?”
“Tour?” The blood had rushed from his brain to his little head, and only the little one was thinking. And it had one thought.
“Of your apartment.” She blinked with ersatz innocence. “I haven’t seen your other rooms yet.”
“Okay, come on.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her into the corridor. “Living room behind us. You saw that. Hallway here. Bathroom straightway. Office there,” he gestured with his free hand to the left.
“Bedroom.” He pulled her though an open door on the right. “A little more to see, but you can check it out later.” Still gripping her hand, he ripped the faux suede duvet from the mattress to expose cotton sheets. “Bed,” he announced. “End of tour.”
Dana giggled. “You saved the best for last.”
He hauled her into his arms and stifled her laughter with a kiss. His lips moved hungrily over hers, his tongue probing secret recesses, unable to get enough of her. She tormented his senses with the scent of flowers and warm woman. He couldn’t wait to delve into her pussy and lap at her honey.
But first, those nipples. Surely it was okay now? He moved to touch her breasts, but she evaded his hands and shook her head with mock displeasure. “I can see I’m going to have to get tough with you.” She scanned his bedroom, her eyes sparkling as she spied several of his neckties draped over a chair. “These will do fine.” She snagged two ties.
Lon’s jaw dropped. Was she thinking what he thought she was thinking?
“Lie down on the bed, please,” she ordered in a no-nonsense voice, probably the one she used to keep her boss in check. “This won’t hurt a bit.”
“Hey, that’s my line,” he joked. Curiosity tangled with excitement in an irresistible combination. Lon shrugged. Had there been any doubt that he would indulge her?
He crawled onto the bed and stretched out flat on his back. Dana deftly secured one of his wrists to the bed rail. By the time she finished tying the other, she was grinning in a secretive way he found worrisome. His cock thought otherwise, though, aching like a motherfucker, leaking onto his abdomen.
Dana kicked off her sandals and stood back from the bed where he could see her. She shimmied out of her skirt to reveal a tiny V-string. People normally undressed from the top down, not bottom up, and she hadn’t allowed him to touch her tits. Then she had trussed him to his own bed. What was up?
The V-string disappeared, and he widened his gaze at the vision of her shaved mound—or had she waxed?
Lon swallowed. “I like it. Is that my surprise?”
“Consider it a stocking stuffer. It’s not your main present.”
He shifted his gaze to the ties that bound him and then arched his eyebrows. “Am I going to get to play with any of my presents?” he asked.
Dana’s lips curved. “In due time,” she said, and just to torture him, he was sure, she slipped her fingers between her legs. The motion to stroke her clit and dip into her cunt arched her breasts, jutting out her nipples. God, he wanted to suck those babies. He tugged at his restraints—damn, that woman knew how to tie a knot.
Dana lifted her hand, her fingers saturated with her cream, and stepped over to the bed, her tits swaying seductively underneath her blouse. Slowly, she traced Lon’s lips and painted him with her moisture. He savored her salty tang with his tongue, wishing he had more than an appetizer, could delve into the source of her honey. She allowed him to suck on her fingers, and when they were clean, she pulled away and slowly undid her blouse, taking care to keep it closed until all the buttons were undone.
Then, and only then, did she let it fall from her shoulders.
“Sonofabitch!”
She was wicked, and he was so going to exact his revenge when she released him.
Beaded, dangling gold chains adorned each breast, held in place by adjustable metal loops that encircled her nipples, which stood out longer and more turgid than he’d ever seen. Not a piercing, but the next best thing. Dana shimmied, and the dangles swung. Hypnotized, Lon stared as white-hot desire coiled in his stomach. She decimated his every fantasy; reality was so much better—or would be when she let him up.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to untie me?” He looked at her hopefully.
“Not a chance.” She captured a tit in one hand and pretended to adjust the jewelry’s fit. Lon growled. He wanted to suck those berries so bad. He knew better than to ask; she ran the show—at least for now—and he was forced to wait it out. But…boy, when he got free…
Dana padded to the bed and stroked a manicured finger from the base of his aching cock to the end of its weeping tip. It jerked under her touch. It wasn’t only his cock that was rigid—every muscle of his body quivered with need.
She straddled him, her wet, naked pussy hovering over his legs. Her nipples saluted. Beaded chains danced. To have her this close and not be able to touch was agony. He’d had no idea his parents’ sexy neighbor harbored such a sadistic streak.
Dana scooted over his body and kissed him. He plundered her mouth, releasing his caged aggression in his kiss, licking, sucking, and biting her mouth in a vain attempt to assuage his lust. Her pussy pressed against him, and without the cover of hair, her vulva slid like wet satin against his hard-on. Her pebbled nipples did touchdown landings on his chest, lifting and brushing, lifting and brushing, in a manner that left no doubt she was deliberately teasing.
Dana intended to drive him insane. Just as he’d thought.
No wonder she’d wanted to tie him up. Smart. Evil, but smart. Had he been free, he’d be pounding into her cunt while eating those berries.
She broke off the kiss and leaned forward to graze his lower lip with a turgid nipple. The beaded chain tickled his chin, and he swiped the bud lightly with his tongue. Dana whimpered. Triumph raced through him. Lon subjected her to another teasing stroke, and she pressed her nipple into his mouth. He should resist her, make her beg, but his need wouldn’t allow it, so he sucked the bud, taking care not to dislodge the jewelry. She was so hard, so sweet. He strained against the silk ties.
Lon tugged the peak with his teeth. Dana’s whimper of pleasure shot straight to his cock. Too soon she pulled away, but his disappointment was short-lived as she wiggled down his body to nest at his side.
The nipple he’d sucked poked his thigh. Her silken hair caressed his skin.
“Fuck!” Lon expelled his breath on a curse as Dana engulfed his cock. She caressed him with her tongue, then scraped her teeth over his rod, and an electric current shot from his dick to his abdomen. He lifted his hips fr
om the bed and used his legs to thrust. The experience of being at her mercy, subject to her whims, rocketed his lust into the stratosphere. Dana and his desire had become coconspirators to rob him of willpower. His balls contracted; the base of his cock throbbed as pressure coalesced to a dangerous level.
Think, think. He raced for a topic to slow the speeding train. Student loans. Shit, he didn’t owe near enough. Health insurance red tape. Not annoying enough. Medical malpractice. Death and destruction. Shit, still not working.
He cursed in relief and frustration when she abruptly released his cock but widened his eyes when she mounted him and scooted up his body. Up. Hot pussy drenched a trail on his abdomen. Up. His chest. Up. Her thighs bracketed his head. Her glistening sex hovered over his mouth. The mouthwatering scent of steamy sex filled his nose. He raised his eyes from the tantalizing feast so close, yet so far away. Her nipples, presented in full salute by her jewelry, jutted out from her firm, large breasts.
“Eat me,” she commanded and lowered herself to his lips.
Dana shuddered as the roughness of Lon’s jaw rasped flesh still tender from the Brazilian. Her eyes locked on his as he flicked his tongue lightly over her clitoral hood. He drew her engorged labia into his mouth and sucked gently and then lapped at the entrance of her channel but didn’t probe inside the way she wanted. He fiendishly avoided her clit all together.
A dangerous desire gleamed in his eyes, part lust, part retribution. Excitement skipped through her on a surge of adrenaline. His revenge would be like jalapeño jelly, sweet and hot. She’d lured him into letting her tie him to his bed so she could tease him. After he’d mentioned he’d like to see her with her nipples pierced, she’d known the dangles would drive him crazy. Now he was turning the tables.
Dana ground her pussy against his face, smearing her juices over his mouth and chin, relishing the abrasion of his jaw even though she would pay for it with whisker burn tomorrow. Her pussy throbbed. “Lon…” His name was a plea on her lips. “Please…”