Hard to Resist

by Stephanie Morris

  When the warm towel touched her tender flesh, she moaned.

  He paused, concern flickering over his expression. “Did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. Closing her eyes, she fought to remain still as he gently cleaned her.

  “Relax, Nataleigh. Just let me take care of you the way you deserve.”

  It was hard to remain upright at the sincerity she heard in his voice. Those were words she never imagined Keelan would say. Now that she had, there was no way she could deny his request.

  Her eyes snapped open when the towel disappeared. Keelan’s heated gaze was directed toward her.

  “Are you ready, Nataleigh?” he asked as he stepped between her legs.

  Just as she opened her mouth to ask him what she should be ready for, he flattened his hands against her breasts, doing nothing more than squeezing the nipples in his palms. The tips tightened and shot out in instantaneous reaction.

  “Yes, you’re ready. Just relax and feel. I will take care of you.”

  Relax? Feel?

  Nataleigh’s breath squeezed out of her chest as a bolt of instant heat shot from her nipples straight down to the juncture of her thighs. Would it always be like this with Keelan? Instant and hot and sudden.

  He tugged at her nipples now, rolling them between his fingers, pulling on that invisible string that jerked a dampening reaction between her legs. The counter was cold beneath her bottom, but she could feel the heat building inside her, coming out of her, making at least one strip of that porcelain very, very hot.

  “Ah!” she cried out loud when the nip of his teeth replaced his hands. Keelan grazed his lips across the sensitive tips. When he pulled back, she whimpered.

  “Touch yourself, Nataleigh.”

  He moved her hands from his hard, solid chest to the softer, straining contours of her own. He moved his hands over hers, silently instructing her on just the right way to pluck and squeeze and rub and excite herself.

  “Stay busy up here, baby. I have other things to take care of.”

  She moaned loudly when he touched her intimately. He pushed her thighs further apart and squeezed them in his palms, rubbing the pad of his thumbs against the sensitive nub between her feminine folds.

  “You look so beautiful,” he murmured a split second before he dipped a finger inside her. Then two. Her thighs automatically clenched against the electronically charged zap of pleasure.

  But she couldn’t close herself. Keelan was there. His hips kept her knees apart. She could only squirm and push against his hand to try to ease the torment. With his fingers massaging her inside and out, she felt herself swell. She felt his fingers get slick with her need. The scent of her own honey-sweet aroma filled the tiny space of air in the bathroom.

  She was thrown slightly off kilter when Keelan moved his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her, pulling her right to the edge of the counter. Knocked off balance, she had to lean back and brace herself with both hands.

  She was so open like this. Open and wet and vulnerable. Keelan’s fingers plunged into her again and her thighs convulsed.

  “You look so gorgeous, Nataleigh.” He whispered a husky command, “I have to taste you.”

  His hands pushed against her and her thighs were pressed further apart. Then he was kneeling in front of her, his dark hair an enticing contrast against her lighter skin. She tried to close her legs, unable to take the intensity of the moment any longer.

  In a contest of strength and subconscious will, he held her open. His tongue lapped at her crevice and she bucked in reaction. With his lips protecting her, he nipped at her swollen clitoris. His scratchy beard stubble rasped against her most delicate skin.

  She contracted. Keelan pushed. He plunged his tongue inside her and she began to suck in earnest. Her breathing picked up the same frantic rate. He drank her honey and pulled on her some more.

  It was too much. His inner strokes were more than she could bear. She squeezed her thighs and buttocks, demanding her release. But against Keelan’s strong hands, she couldn’t close herself. She could only move herself closer, drive herself against the marauding assault of his hands and mouth.

  As if sensing her breaking point, Keelan slipped his fingers beneath her bottom and lifted her right onto his mouth. With his superior strength, he lifted her off the counter and plunged his tongue into her one final time. When he curled his tongue upward and gave one hard suck, she screamed. Everything inside her clenched, then bloomed and flowed with her release.

  Before she could come down from the pinnacle of pleasure, Keelan swept her up into his arms and carried her toward her bedroom. He placed her gently on the bed before stepping away. She watched him remove the rest of his clothing through heavy lidded eyes.

  “You are so beautiful, Nataleigh. Absolutely beautiful.”

  Weak and spent, she could only lay there and try to catch her breath. Keelan finally joined her on the bed, drawing her into his embrace. She wasn’t shocked when she felt his interest begin to butt itself against her thigh. Yet, she didn’t know if she could go another round. Keelan had proven himself to be a very thorough lover. Still, there was no denying the stirring of passion within her. But this time it was his turn to be at her mercy.

  She stretched up beside him and pressed her lips against his throat. Her tongue rasped against the prickle of his stubble, drawn to the warm beat of his pulse beneath the salty tang of his skin. She stretched further up to nip at his chin, dragging the tips of her breasts across the curling, coarse hair on his chest. She repeated the motion and the pert, dusky peaks strained to attention. A thousand little pinpricks of sensation awoke throughout her languid body, from her tender nipples down to the aching juncture between her thighs.

  Keelan slid his hands down to her waist, his calloused palms waking each bundle of nerves they touched. He angled his mouth to hers and she lifted her mouth to meet his, as eager to possess as she was to be possessed. The stubble of beard abraded her lips, but he soothed her tender skin with the warm lap of his tongue. She feasted and supped and gave and surrendered.

  A warm serenity lit deep in her belly and close to her heart. Keelan’s lazy, thorough kiss blew life into the embers of her desire, stroking the fire more slowly this time, unlike the spontaneous combustion of their earlier joining.

  She was beginning to understand what it felt like to desire someone. To crave them. The thrill of surprise. The pleasure that she continued to experience because of his erogenous knowledge. Her head fell back to give him access to the erotic spot at the base of her neck. With each tortured breath, her body brushed against his, aroused her need.

  “Thank you for tonight,” she whispered, sliding her palms to the center of his chest.

  “My pleasure,” he answered, nibbling at the point of her shoulders.

  “Thank you for seeing to my pleasure as well. Now I want to see to yours.” She gave him a shove, rolling him onto his back, before rising up to straddle him.

  He rested his hands lightly on her knees.

  She could barely make out his eyes in the moonlight drifting in through the bedroom, but she saw enough to tell her what she needed to know. His words confirmed it.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  She felt wicked and powerful. “You’ve worked so hard up to this point, I want you to relax this time.”

  He wiggled his hips, sliding his jutting arousal along the seam of her buttocks. “It’s little late for that.”

  “We’ll see.” She leaned forward and flickered her thumbs across his nipples, hoping she could get this right.

  Keelan smiled. “Nice.”

  With her gaze pinned to his, she brought her hands up to her breasts and cupped them in her palms. Then she flicked her thumbs over the rosy tips, playing with her nipples just as she had played with his. Something that resembled a growl rumbled deep in his throat and Nataleigh smiled. “That is really nice.”

  She reached down and flattened h
er hands over his nipples, then she rubbed them up and down—long, slow strokes down to his waist and up to his shoulders and down again. She reveled in the tickle of the crisp hair on her sensitive palms, the warmth of smooth skin at her fingertips.

  She covered her own breasts and gave herself the same sensuous massage. Up over her breasts, own to the crease of her thighs. She created a delicious friction as she stretched and rubbed herself. Keelan’s observant gaze missed nothing, darting to capture every detail. His blatant pleasure became hers.

  Taking care to avoid his rigid shaft, she moved down to sit on his thighs. Then she reached for him. She stroked him gently, lubricating her fingers with the drop of moisture at the tip. Each stroke taking her further, closer, until her fingers nestled in the thatch of dark hair surrounding him. She reached beneath, found that ultra sensitive ridge of skin. She cupped his testicles, then traced her fingernails lightly across their length.

  “Nataleigh.” His chest rose and fell in a deep erratic sigh. He clutched handfuls of the sheet tight, with shaking fists.

  She gave him a moment to recover. And herself. For this was definitely a first for her. While she was no stranger to passion, it was the first time she felt she could be so open with someone other than herself. An experience she planned to enjoy to the fullest. When she saw his hands relax a little, she touched herself.

  She rose up on her knees above him, stroked herself just as she had stroked him. She opened her mouth to catch her breath as she rubbed her fingers against the sensitive nub. Then she dipped her fingers inside, feeling her own feverish core flood with heat. Slick moisture coated her fingers. She braced one hand against his thigh and let her eyes drift shut, feeling her body began to throb, feeling herself drip onto her hand.

  But this was for Keelan. So she tore her mind from the precipices of rapture and pulled her fingers free. She touched his penis, coated the engorged shaft with the liquid proof of her desire.

  “Nataleigh. Sweetheart.” He clutched at her thighs. His hips twisted beneath her.

  Muscles clenched between her legs. Her buttocks pressed together. Her toes stretched. Her breast tingled with her taut need for release. She dipped her fingers inside herself and squeezed the nub.

  As the orgasm took her, Keelan watched, not moving until the last wave flooded her. She moaned when he gathered her close, then rolled until her back met the bed, before pulling away. She watched through heavily lidded eyes as he reached for his pants. When he came back with a foil packet, she exhaled softly. He sheathed himself quickly, then reached for her pulling her over him as he rolled onto his back, putting them back in their original position. He shifted his body and pulled her down over his hot, throbbing shaft.

  She loved the stretching, consuming, filling sensation of taking Keelan inside her. His hands anchored her thighs beside his hips and he began to move, thrusting himself impossibly deeper. He moved his thumbs to her arching nub and began pushing, pressing, rubbing her from the inside and out.

  It was too much. She was coming again!

  “Keelan—”

  “Touch yourself, baby.” His hoarse command echoed her own trembling need. He guided her hands back to where they were joined together. “Come for me.”

  He enclosed her breasts in his hands and squeezed them, pinching the tips while he bucked beneath her. Riding her lover like the thoroughbred he was, Nataleigh arched her back. She cried out as the exquisite torment seized her for a second time. Keelan hammered into her with one final, mighty thrust.

  After he pulsed the last time inside her, she collapsed onto his chest. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her roughly, quickly, seeming as short on breath and energy as she. She tasted herself on his mouth. Tasted the wonder of sexual rapture fulfilled. Keelan’s loving hands were relaxing her muscles and putting her to sleep. Still, even in her drowsy state, she realized the significance of what she’d just shared with Keelan and hoped it wouldn’t be the last time.

  “I’m sleepy, Keelan.”

  * * * *

  “Then sleep, Nataleigh,” he whispered, kissing her on the forehead. Within minutes, her even breathing told Keelan that she had drifted off. He frowned as he felt the turmoil in his weary mind gaining force, hammering at him.

  Ah, man, he thought, he was such a mental mess. He was suddenly dissatisfied, judgmental, about his meager dwelling by Carter. Laying in bed with Nataleigh, inside her cozy home, how could he not?

  Did the fact that he couldn’t stand up to his full height in his lousy shower make him a better teacher? He bit back a groan. Why was he questioning his lifestyle now?

  Why now?

  And if that wasn’t enough to send him over the edge of his sanity, there was Nataleigh and the exquisitely beautiful lovemaking they’d just shared. Lovemaking that had been entwined with foreign and unfamiliar emotions that were so powerful they caused an ache to close his throat.

  What was happening to him? He felt like a stranger in his own body. He was suffocating under the weight of the turmoil of confusion in his mind. He had to get out of there, be alone. Attempt to somehow, somehow, create some order in his thinking before he was beyond thinking clearly at all.

  Moving carefully so as not to awaken Nataleigh, Keelan left the bed and dressed quickly. He stood for a moment, staring at the lovely woman who had given of herself so openly, freely and honestly.

  Then he quietly gathered his discarded clothing and strode from the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Nataleigh stirred and opened her eyes, blinking several times to bring herself fully awake. As the last foggy cobwebs of sleep dissolved, memories of last night flooded her. She turned her head on the pillow, frowning when she saw the empty expanse of bed next to her, then smiled in the next instant. Maybe Keelan has something scheduled this morning. He had no doubt left a note for her somewhere in the apartment that would explain his with-out-a-word-spoken-to-her exit.

  She stretched like a lazy kitty, mentally reliving the exquisite lovemaking shared with Keelan. How wonderful it had been. They had come together like two perfectly synchronized dancers, moving as one, soaring to glorious heights of ecstasy.

  “Mmm,” she murmured dreamily. Still smiling, she left the bed and headed for the bathroom. After showering and dressing in jeans and a purple print top, she went in search of Keelan’s note and a hot cup of coffee.

  A few minutes later, Nataleigh sat at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee cradled in her hands as she rested her elbows on the table. Her smile had disappeared, having been replaced by a frown and a chill that gripped her heart with a painful fist. She had searched everywhere…twice…for a note from Keelan, but she hadn’t found one, because he hadn’t written one. He’d simply left her, her bed and home, and disappeared into the night.

  She exhaled heavily. It couldn’t be true. Surely not. No. But the evidence before her painted a more stark reality. She, Nataleigh Brown, had been a one-night stand for Keelan Robinson.

  With trembling hands, she set the mug on the table with exacting care so not to spill the hot liquid. She pressed her fingertips to her lips, willing herself not to cry, not to react like a woman who hadn’t expected this outcome. For she had. Even embarrassed herself on the night of their date by telling him she wouldn’t fall for it. But she had.

  Sadly, she had no one to blame for this but herself. She’d known form the beginning that Keelan was out of her league. He knew women like Brandi, who executed air-kisses with expertise and engaged him in conversation about exotic trips to locations she’d never dreamed of going to.

  Making love, having sex to more precise, was probably no big deal to Keelan. He was used to women fawning over him and hopping into his bed with no-strings-attached enthusiasm. She sniffled, placed one elbow back onto the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. She’d had no intention of attempting to attach any strings to Keelan. One thing she was smart enough to know in her unsophisticated world was they had no real future together, nothing permanent,
no fairytale forever and ever.

  But for Keelan to leave her bed, then walk out her door without a note, a word, something? It was rotten, tacky and downright disrespectful. She was mortified, embarrassed, humiliated and mad as hell.

  She lifted her chin from the cradle of her palm, then smacked the table with her hand, causing the coffee to slosh over the edge of the mug.

  “Shoot.” She got to her feet, then crossed the kitchen to snatch a paper towel from the holder mounted beneath one of the cabinets, then stomped back to wipe up the spilled coffee.

  “I’m mad, not sad,” she whispered, as she cleaned up the mess she’d made. “Therefore, I won’t cry because tears are for sadness and I’m mad, not sad.

  “But…” she sniffled. “If this is a contest between mad and sad, I think sad is winning.”

  A knock, sounded at the door.

  Nataleigh glared on the direction of the noise. She was not in the mood for company. Maybe if she pretended she wasn’t home they would go away.

  The knock was repeated.

  She sighed. Maybe it was her sister or brother, or someone who might wonder and worry about her absence so early on a Saturday morning. Exhaling deeply with defeat, she dropped the soggy paper towel onto the table and went to open the door.

  * * * *

  Keelan shifted the bag he held from one arm to the other in a restless, edgy gesture. He looked skyward, sending a silent plea that his insistent knocking was waking Nataleigh from a deep, contented sleep. If that could be true, then she’d not yet know that he wasn’t next to her in the bed.

  He driven home last night, showered, then gone to bed, fully expecting to fall asleep quickly. Instead, he’d tossed and turned, then ended up calling himself every low-life name in the book.

  As early as was conceivably possible, he’d gone to the store, then returned to Nataleigh’s, driving above the speed limit the entire way. He was such scum. At some point in the seemingly endless night, he’d reached the conclusion that he should see her again, due to the inner turmoil that raged within him by being with her.