I decide I need to make this a little harder for Keller. I know he’s got to be close to exploding by now. He made me come twice in the shower without getting his own release, and he is as hard as the freaking granite on his kitchen counter. So I bend over the arm of the couch real slowly. I stretch my body so I’m all lines and curves and widen my legs while my torso spreads along the velvety material. It’s soft and scratchy at the same time, and as much as I’m doing this to tease Keller, being spread out with the fabric lightly brushing my chest and nipples has heat licking all over my body.
Keller doesn’t waste any time and his finger sweeps into my pussy, and I moan. How, when I’ve just had the most intense orgasms of my life, can I be almost crazed with need again?
“Keller, are you going to just torture me all night, or are you going to make good on your promise to fuck me?”
“The shower wasn’t enough for you, Maddie?”
“Don’t get me wrong—it was great—but I’m after a little more.”
“Oh, yeah? How much more do you want?” His lips brush my ear, and his fingers gather the juices that have already pooled between my thighs, but he doesn’t push inside. Slowly he circles me, making me whimper again.
“Much more.” My chest heaves with each panting breath as his fingers press into me the tiniest amount. I push my hips back, trying to take in more of his fingers, but Keller flat palms my back with his other hand, pushing me deeper into the cushions and further away from what I desperately desire. He leans in and kisses the sweet spot just below my ear.
“Be still, Maddie. You don’t want me to stop, do you?” His fingers continue to barely tease my entrance.
I shake my head. “I’ll be still.”
He rewards me by pressing in a little further, circling his fingers and applying the perfect amount of pressure. I’m igniting. Burning. Scorching. And I don’t know if it’s all this alpha stuff Keller has going on or the fact that I’m exposed in this position, at the mercy of his magic fingers, but I feel the build and he hasn’t been touching me for long.
Keller’s lips brush my ear. “Maddie, I feel this gorgeous little pussy pulsing for me. Would you do me a favor?”
I’m nodding and trying to answer, but all I get out is a ridiculous mewling sound that has heat creeping up my cheeks.
“Is that a yes, Maddie?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes.”
“Will you wait for me, Maddie? I want my cock inside you when you come.”
Oh sweet baby saints, if he continues to talk to me this way, there will be no chance of waiting for him. His fingers alternate between circling my clit and pumping in and out of me, and I’m almost certain I’m going to explode in a matter of seconds. Sweat drips from my neck and slides between my breasts, and I think there might be a bead of sweat on my back too because Keller licks from the base of my spine to the nape of my neck and groans.
I’m not going to be able to hold off much longer. In fact, I think I’m going to—
Keller removes his fingers, and I immediately lose the delicious build. But I’m not complaining. Because where he left me—just, just on the cusp—is the most incredible sensation. Everything is tight and clenched and aching in that way it does when you are moments away from crashing into oblivion. I know that the minute he pushes his cock inside me, I’m going to explode so hard around him that the anticipation has me dizzy.
I hear Keller open and close a drawer, and the sound of him ripping the condom free from its foil wrapper. I turn to watch him roll the condom over his shaft, and holy mother of sin he looks hot. His hand dexterously and effortlessly rolls the condom in place, and his abs twitch. He smiles at me, but the tick of his jaw lets me know he isn’t very far from losing control.
I don’t care though; I want him to lose control. I want him to take me exactly the way he wants me. His navy eyes are ablaze, and for the briefest of moments a thrill races down my spine, but then he bends and kisses me and his kiss is sweet and tender and the complete opposite of the storm raging in his eyes. He gathers my juices and spreads them over the condom, then moves in behind me. The tip of his cock presses into my pussy, and he stills. A rush of air leaving his lips and whispering over my back sets goose bumps alight on my skin.
He starts moving, and it isn’t slow like he threatened. It’s a hard, punishing rhythm. I’m lost as every one of my senses explodes. Lights dance in front of my eyes, and a faint ringing sounds in my ears but is barely audible over the sound of Keller pounding into me. My fingers dig into the cushions with every thrust.
“Keller, I have to—” My words are cut off by my drawn-out moan, his name ripping free from my lips as he pulls my orgasm out of me.
“Fuck!” His groan breaks through the ringing, and he grips onto my shoulders, his fingers squeezing into my flesh as he keeps up his relentless rhythm as he chases his own release.
♫
I wake up to the smell of bacon and look at my watch. Dammit, it’s nine o’clock already. I’d hoped to wake up and do the walk of shame without Keller witnessing it, and now I’ve overslept. I don’t have any illusions of mores and happily ever afters here. Keller made it very clear that he just wanted to have a good time, and I’m okay with that. I got a night full of incredible orgasms and a very sore and tired body as proof.
I stretch and muscles I didn’t know I had ache in the most delicious ways, and I feel more relaxed than I have in a long time. I pull back the covers and make my way to the bathroom. After I pee, I take a look at myself in the mirror and all I can say is, thank goodness Keller is not witness to what’s staring back at me.
I open his bathroom cabinet hoping he has a spare toothbrush and luck out when I find one. Now that I can’t sneak away unnoticed, I’m going to totally own this morning-after shit. Why is the morning after so uncomfortable anyway? Two consenting adults had a good time, and one needs to leave. But there’s that whole “how am I supposed to act” thing going on. Do we hug, kiss, fist-bump? I mean the night before I was screaming his name and all the possible things I wanted him to do to my body, and now I don’t know what to do.
I decide on the easy-breezy approach. I’m going to get dressed, walk into the kitchen, thank him for the nice night, and head on back to my hotel.
Except I don’t have any underwear. I look around the bathroom expecting them to be in a wet soggy pile, but I don’t see them anywhere. Dammit, Keller must’ve moved them, and now I’ll have to ask for them back. Well, the joke’s on him because I’ve got enough underwear to change twice a day for a whole year and never repeat a pair. It’s an obsession of mine. I take one last glance around the shower, thinking they might be there, but come up empty. Damn, when I think about what Keller did to me in the shower and how he proved his fingers were for more than just messing around with drumsticks, I feel heat pool between my legs all over again. I should give my lady bits a talking-to, but since I’m sure Keller isn’t interested in me staying for another round of swap-the-body-fluids, I’m not about to become the crazy lady who talks to her vag in her one-night stand’s bathroom.
And this is quite the bathroom. Last night, I didn’t pay much attention, but now that I’m not thinking with my hormone-laced brain (well, not all of it is hormone-laced), I take a second to look around. Keller has stuck to the gray color scheme to match his bedroom. Dark gray marble outlines double vanities with chrome faucets and trimmings that gleam and reflect against the ornate mirror. The shower could easily fit four people with a large square showerhead in the middle that’s about as wide as I am. When I take in the bench, I squeeze my thighs together reliving last night.
Damn, the guy has some serious skills.
Deciding I’ve spent enough time in Keller’s bathroom, I slip on my shorts and wrinkled tank. Crap on a Christmas cracker, my nipples are showing right through the top. And… my earlier thoughts are seeing to it that they are poking out all nice and puckered. Just fabulous.
Oh, well, it’s not something he hasn’t s
een before. Or had in his mouth.
Dammit all to hell, Maddie, can you just try not to be a horndog for three seconds?
Retrieving the scrunchie I stashed in my shorts pocket yesterday, I pull my hair into a messy bun. I wish I had my hairbrush with me, but my bag is still on the floor where I dropped it last night. Slipping on my shoes, I take one last look in the mirror.
Fuck it, time to get the awkwardness over.
I walk down the hall toward the kitchen and spot Keller standing over the stove. He’s shirtless again, and the muscles on his back make his abs look like underachievers. My stomach growls, and I press a hand to it. I can’t understand how I can be so hungry. Keller ordered food from an all-night Chinese takeout after our marathon sex, but I guess my body burned it up to replenish all the energy I expended. Keller’s singing must’ve drowned out the sound of my stomach growling because he doesn’t turn around. His voice is freaking amazing, and I wonder why with a voice like that, he doesn’t ever sing with the band. I reach for my bag.
“So, I’m going to head out. Thanks for the Chinese and the orgas—” Fuck my life, when am I going to learn not to spew every word that enters my brain out my big yap. Keller turns, his amused smirk firmly in place.
“Anyway, thanks for last night. It was great. I’m gonna head out.”
His eyes flick to my nipples which I’m sure can be seen from space. “You’re not gonna stay for breakfast?”
Why is the sight of Keller shirtless like the start of one of my wildest fantasies? The only thing that could possibly be better is if, instead of the black sweats he’s wearing, he had on one of those manly aprons with a pic of beer splashed on the front along with one of those stupid sayings…and no pants.
Yeah, that’ll do. Keller, with his bare ass sticking out as he flips pancakes.
“Earth to Maddie!”
I snap out of it and realize I’m biting my lip and looking at Keller as if he’s the one on the menu.
“You want me to stay for breakfast?” I can hear the question in my voice, but this really has taken me by surprise.
“Did you think I was going to fuck you and throw you out the door without breakfast?”
He’s amused. I am amusing him.
“Well, I—”
“Take a seat, Maddie.” He uses the spatula to point to the dining room table situated in front of the french doors. The table is already covered in food, and I’m not sure how much Keller is expecting me to eat. There’s bacon, sausage, mushrooms, eggs—omelets and scrambled—pancakes, orange juice, and coffee. The food spread out could easily feed ten people, and my stomach grumbles loudly again. This time he definitely heard it because he smirks.
Well, it’s not my fault he sexed all the calories out of me last night.
I pad across to the table and pull out a chair. Sitting down, I reach for the mugs and pour us each a cup of coffee. I drink mine black and bitter, so I leave his the same way for him to add cream and sugar if that’s how he prefers it.
While he finishes up in the kitchen, I take in his home. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d die for his kitchen. I could bake up a storm in there. It’s light and spacious, and sunbeams fall across the hardwood floors from the multiple skylights. Gray-blue cabinets contrast with the gleaming white countertops and stainless steel appliances. I may even tear up a bit when I see the double oven under the six-hob stove.
The living area is decorated in the same blues and white, and I love how open everything is. I take note of the drumsticks lying on the coffee table, and I imagine Keller twirls them absentmindedly while watching TV. A pretty cobalt-blue bird flits down from the small oak tree in his beautifully landscaped garden and lands in the birdbath.
“I’m surprised.”
“Start without me, I’m just finishing up the tomatoes. Surprised by?”
“Your home. It doesn’t look like a bachelor pad.”
“You have Sydney to thank for that.”
“Sydney?” Oh man, please don’t tell me I’ve just had sex in his ex-girlfriend’s bed.
Or worse, his current girlfriend.
His next words fill me with relief. “My sister. She couldn’t handle the beaten-down couch I got in college and the crates for side tables, so when we toured last year, she hired an interior decorator. She’s also my accountant, so she has access to my bank account.” He says this with resignation dripping from his voice.
“Ah, I see. Do you only have one sibling?” I blow on the coffee and take a tentative sip.
“I wish.” He chuckles so I know he’s kidding. “I have four siblings. Three older brothers and one sister. She’s a year and a half younger than me.”
“Your sister must be one tough cookie dealing with you all.” I grin.
“She’s the toughest of us all.” The affection in his voice causes the pang of longing that has become familiar lately to hit me square in the gut.
“How about you, any siblings? Brothers that are going to break my nose for defiling you?” He winks as he comes over and sits next to me.
“Nope, just me.” I keep my tone light like I always do when people ask this question.
“Yeah?”
This is the part of the conversation where I usually change the subject, but for some reason I want to confide in Keller. Call it Postorgasmic High Disorder.
“It’s just Mom and me. She lost her college sweetheart in a fire. He was the love of my mother’s life, and she knew she’d never love the same way again. She basically swore off men. When my grandparents died a few years later, she used her inheritance to have me.” I start heaping my plate with food. “My grandparents were hippies and lived a simple life in a motorhome selling herbal remedies out of the trunk of their car. But it was enough for IVF. So yeah, it’s just us.”
Keller has gone really quiet, and if I’m not mistaken, he has paled considerably.
“Not the kind of light conversation you want at the breakfast table, is it?”
“No, thank you for telling me that.” His voice is strained, and he points to my plate. “Eat up, we’ve got a busy day.”
The subject change isn’t lost me, but I don’t blame him. “Busy? We?” I take a bite of the pancakes and—oh my God—the guy can cook.
“Yeah, the guys and I are going to a go-kart place downtown. I thought you’d like to come along.” He picks up his coffee as is and takes a sip, watching me over the rim of his cup.
I swallow. “You want me to go with?” The words are drawn out like I’m not grasping the concept.
Which I’m not.
“You don’t go-kart?”
“No, I do but—”
“Then it’s settled, then.”
I look down at my top. “I can’t go go-karting like this. You snatched my underwear, perv.”
Keller leans back and folds his arms across his chest, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “Prove it.”
I chuck a piece of bacon at him. It falls on his pecs. He picks it off and pops it into his mouth. “Delicious, but not as delicious as you.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re so cheesy.”
“You’re not wrong, and neither am I.”
Oh damn, the clench is so good. “That’s unfair, you know. You never let me taste you last night.”
“Nothin’ stopping you now.”
“True.” I place my fork on my plate and kneel in front of him. Slipping his waistband down, Keller lifts his hips so I can slide his sweats off. I don’t waste any time taking him into my mouth.
Oh sweet mother of all things edible. He tastes a whole lot better than the pancakes.
Seven – Not for the Faint of Heart
Keller
After stopping at Maddie’s hotel so she can shower and change, we head to the go-kart place in my truck. It looks like it’s going to rain later, and I don’t want to risk getting Maddie soaked on the bike. Well, not that kind of soaked anyway. I’m all in for her being wet like she was for me last night.
I was tempted to go
another round with her in the shower, but we were already cutting it fine, and I don’t like being late. Especially for group things. So I’ll have to make up for lost time later, and I plan on making good use of every minute.
It’s great being with Maddie. She’s easy and I find myself relaxing around her, something I rarely do with dates. I’m not a complete jerk—well, I guess that depends on who you’re asking, but I don’t fuck ’em and chuck ’em. I enjoy sleeping next to someone, but as soon as our fuckery has run its course, I like to move on.
No attachments, no drama, no distractions.
So this isn’t typical of me. I don’t normally ask a girl on a date the morning after and especially not when I’m going to be with the guys. I don’t relish enduring their questioning looks or smart comments, but I find myself wanting to spend as much time as I can with Maddie. She’s the epitome of light and fun, and I could use as much of that as I can get these days.
One of our songs comes on the radio, and I lean in to turn it down. I love that our music is getting a ton of airplay. Especially when our creativity seems to be taking a nosedive and the label is shitting down our necks to refresh our sound, but I just can’t hear it when I’m around someone else without feeling uncomfortable.
“No, don’t.” Maddie places a hand on mine. “This is one of my favorites.”
I remove my hand and rest it on my leg. Maddie places her tiny hand on mine and stares out the window. It’s such a casual thing to do, like we’ve been together for months instead of one night. All sorts of warning signals should be going off, but Maddie is leaving tomorrow and there’s no reason to be alarmed by the fact that I’m enjoying this intimate moment.
Way too much.
I put my turn signal on and swing a right. The chorus comes on, and Maddie starts singing along to the radio. She has a terrible voice, but my chest constricts and I hide a smile. Everything about this is comfortable and just feels…right.
Yeah, it’s a damn good thing she’s going home tomorrow.
I pull into the parking lot at the track and turn the truck off.
Drop Beat (The Heartbeat Series Book 2) Page 4