Leveled

by Cathryn Fox

  Kylee.

  Sweet Kylee who sucked my cock so nicely and tasted like heaven on my tongue. My dick twitches and throbs in remembrance. She gave her body over to me last night, mine to do with as I pleased, and when she came so damn hard for me, so many times, it totally blew my fucking mind. I’ve never seen a woman come and come and come like that before. What I’d do to make it happen again . . .

  Standing on her back deck, under the morning sun, I turn on the saw and cut into the wood, channeling the heat brewing in my body into removing the structure from the house. But Jesus, it’s hard to concentrate with her mere feet away making sexy bedroom noises that make me want to bend her over and drive my dick into her again. Except, after an incredible night with her, I swore to fucking God to keep my hands to myself from here on out. She asked for one night, and that’s all this can be. She’s trouble with a capital T, and I’m not interested in getting back into her panties anyway. Fucking liar. Seriously though, once was enough. Or at least it should have been, goddammit.

  Okay, enough of this shit.

  I set the saw down, wipe my brow with the back of my hand, and open the screen door to put a stop to her humming. I follow the sound, and when I round the corner and come to the first bedroom to see her swaying her hips as she hums, the fight to keep my distance instantly goes out of me. Just like that. What a goddamn motherfucking weak-ass son of a bitch I am. But she’s so fucking beautiful, and I can’t help but want her again. As if sensing me behind her she turns, and her eyes go wide.

  “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  I glance at her lush mouth. Fuck, when she wrapped those sweet lips around my cock, I could hear the damn angels singing, and I’m not even a religious guy.

  Get it together, dude. It was a one-night thing.

  “You were humming,” I say through clenched teeth.

  She smiles at me, a smile so sexy and sweet my dick aches in my pants. “I hum when I’m working,” she says, and it’s all I can do not to tell her to continue so I can lose myself in the soft warmth of her voice. But that’s the last thing I want.

  My gaze goes from her to the marked-up sketch pad on a drafting board under the window. I stiffen when I see her designs. She’s talented, but why the fuck is she designing baby clothes. I hope she’s not thinking we’re . . .

  “Oh,” she says quickly, obviously picking up on my unease. “I thought I’d make something for Summer’s baby. Since she doesn’t know if she’s having a boy or a girl, I thought I’d make one of each. An original design.” She holds the sketch pad up, and I take in the outfits she’s sketching. “Do you think she’ll like it?” She frowns and adds, “Do you think it’s good enough?”

  Good enough?

  Why the hell wouldn’t she think it was good enough?

  “I just really wanted to do something nice for her. She’s been so nice to me.”

  My heart squeezes at her thoughtfulness, and unable to ignore the heat sparking between us, I make quick work of the distance keeping me from her. As I crowd her, invade her private space, her breathing changes, becomes deeper. I touch her face, run my fingers over her cheek. “I think she’ll love it,” I say. I slide my hand around her neck and dip my head. She’s looking up at me, her eyes big, her breath warm on my face. I shouldn’t be doing this, but my traitorous fucking cock refuses to cooperate. All it can think about is sliding back into her wet heat.

  “Kylee,” I murmur.

  “Yeah.” She leans into me and parts her lips, her look so sweet and sexy it would take every member of the gang I used to run with to tear me away from her now.

  “You can’t hum.”

  “What?” she asks, her head going back.

  “When you hum, it distracts me. When I’m distracted, I can’t focus. A guy needs his focus when using power tools, otherwise it could be disastrous.”

  “Oh,” she says. “I’m sorry.” She flashes long lashes at me. “What can the girl do to help the boy get focused again?”

  I grin as she steps into our game, one I know better than to play again. But I guess on some level referring to each other as the boy and girl helps keep a measure of distance—keep the sex impersonal.

  “The boy probably needs the girl naked again.” I touch her throat, run my hand down the long length of it. I cup her rib cage, brush my thumbs over her nipples, and revel as they harden beneath my ministrations. “He probably needs these in his mouth again, too. Greedy boy that he is.”

  She shrugs casually, but heat is crawling into her cheeks, a hot flush that rattles what little control I have. “If that’s what the boy needs, then that’s what the boy needs.”

  “It’s not all he needs.”

  “No?”

  “He needs the girl straddling him, so he can put his cock all the way up inside her again.”

  She goes still and breathes for a few seconds, like words are momentarily lost on her. “If the girl wants her deck done and is the one responsible for the distraction in the first place, then she must do what the boy needs to get him focused again, don’t you think?”

  I cock my head, my gaze moving over her face. She asked for one night, but the needy look on her face speaks volumes and fucks with my ability to think with clarity. Still, there is a part of me that needs to hear her say it. “The girl wants?”

  “The girl wants,” she whispers, her hands going to the buckle on my tool belt. As she releases it, I sink into her warm, wet mouth, and taste mint on her tongue. Heaven. Pure fucking heaven. Hot and hungry, I practically attack her mouth with mine. Christ, if I’m not careful I could lose myself in her sweetness. But I’m no longer that dreamer from days long gone, and lessons learned taught me to always exercise caution—especially with women like her.

  I reach down and slide a hand between her legs. I love these little dresses she wears, they give me such quick access to the spot my body craves. A little feathery breath escapes her mouth as I slide my hand upward, but this time I go still, and my cock rages against my zipper when I find her bare, completely naked beneath her dress.

  “You’re not wearing any panties,” I growl.

  She looks down shyly—innocently—but I don’t miss the mischievousness in her eyes. The damn girl knew what she was doing all along. She can feign innocence all she wants, but dammit, she’d been luring me to her with those soft, sexy hums.

  “Panties are overrated,” she whispers.

  “Fucking right they are.” I back up and pull her with me. My knees hit the sofa and I sit, dragging her onto my lap so she can straddle me. Her sex lips widen and hug my cock through my pants. I piston up and rub her clit with the rough flap over my zipper.

  “Jamie,” she murmurs, and grinds against me, creating friction and heat for the both of us. Her body is so needy for me again, mine so needy for hers, if I knew what was good for me, I’d run a hundred fucking miles in the other direction. But when was the last time I’d ever done what was good for me? I guess I’ll just add this to my latest list of bad decisions.

  “The girl missed my cock?”

  “Yes.”

  My pulse thrums at her openness. “The girl has been aching to have it in here again,” I whisper as I rub her clit. She lifts, giving me space to touch her. I slip a finger into her pussy, and it’s insane how wet she is. “I believe you’ve been thinking about the boy all day, and all the dirty things you want him to do to you.”

  “Does the boy have any idea how hot he is with his tool belt on?”

  I grin. “So it’s the tool belt you want?”

  She reaches between our bodies to unhook my pants. My nerve endings fire at the hiss of the zipper, the anticipation of what’s to come. When my cock springs free, she closes her hands over it. “No. She wants what’s underneath it.”

  She strokes me, and I finger fuck her as her warm hands race the length of me. “I’m going to make you come so hard for me again, Kylee,” I whisper, and her eyes roll back as her head sways from side to side. I push another finger int
o her and she whimpers. “I’m going to have all of you before we’re done,” I say. “I’m going to fuck every inch of you.”

  She gasps, but it’s followed by a moan when I brush her clit with my thumb. I tease the hot bud, change the rhythm and pressure until her hands still on my cock, her only thoughts on what I’m doing between her legs.

  “Ride my fingers. Fuck them for me.” I hold my fingers still and she lifts herself up and falls down. “That’s it. Show me what a dirty girl you are.” She cries out at my filthy words and comes down hard on my fingers. Clearly she likes it when I talk this way. I wiggle my fingers inside her, penetrate her deeply. “You don’t need my cock at all. Look at you, getting all hot and wet and ready to come from my fingers.”

  She moans, and my cock leaks. Seeing her come undone like this is the sexiest fucking thing, and I’m seconds from shooting off a load. But I don’t want to, not yet. I touch her mouth, shove my finger inside. Her lips close around me. “Does the girl want my cock in here?”

  Instead of answering, she sucks my finger in, and I sink into the sofa, my cock so goddamn hard, I’m sure I’m going to rupture. She lifts, slams back down, and lifts again. Man, when my cock is in her, she’s going to take me deeper than ever before. Her breathing is erratic, her cheeks a deeper shade of pink. Fuck, she’s there already and we’d only just gotten started.

  “The girl wants it all,” she cries out, and shatters around my finger, comes completely undone, like a boneless rag doll. Her cum is so hot it scorches my flesh and it drips down my fingers. Fuck, if I don’t get my cock inside her this very second I’m going to die. I’m sure of it. Sucking me off will have to wait, with my life being on the line and all. I grip her hips, and pull her hot cunt down onto my cock. Her heat sears me, sizzles through my body and detonates all my brain cells. I’ve never felt anything like it before, and I’m too far gone, too lost in sweet Kylee’s heat, to consider why.

  We fuck hard. I lift as she comes down, and we quickly create a rhythm. My body aches, my brain spinning like a hamster on a wheel. Her mouth parts, and her tongue slides across her lush lips leaving a smooth trail my cock wants to smudge. Fuck. I’ll get my dick in there again, get it in every hole as we both finish scratching this itch, but right now, my cock is exactly where it’s supposed to be. High inside her. I grip her shoulders and pull her down hard. She cries out, her sweet pussy devouring my cock until I’m balls fucking deep. I press my mouth to her breasts, kiss her nipples through her dress, and breathe in her scent.

  Consumed, I fuck harder, hot and hungry and so goddamn needy it scares me a little bit. But I can’t think about that right now. My cock is throbbing, aching to get off. Jesus, I haven’t felt like this since I was a hormonal teen. Her lips close over mine, a steady deepening that smashes my last vestige of control. I squeeze my eyes shut and shoot my load high inside her. Her sweet cunt milks my shaft, massages every last drop of cum from my dick. Fucking amazing.

  Her hands cup my face, and she’s making a sexy mewling sound, as we lightly exchange kisses, both of us gasping for air as our lips eat at each other. But then suddenly my breath freezes in my lungs. Son of a fucking bitch. I didn’t use a condom. I have never, ever been so lust-drunk that I’d forgotten a condom before. Christ, no wonder it felt so incredible. Then again would it have felt this amazing with someone who wasn’t Kylee? I swallow against that worrisome thought and hope to hell she’s on the pill. This thing between us is temporary and while she might want kids, they aren’t in my future—at least not with her. I cup her head. I pull back and her eyes widen when they meet mine—see the horror.

  “Jamie,” she says, her voice wavering. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Kylee. I forgot to use a condom.”

  She swallows, and as her eyes widen with that revelation, my gut clenches. “I can’t believe it.” She blinks rapidly and her hair falls over her shoulders as she shakes her head. “I’ve never had sex without protection before.” Her shoulders curl in and she hugs herself. “Not that I’ve been with many guys, but still.”

  “I’ve never had sex without a condom either, Kylee. I’m clean, but please, tell me you’re on the pill, otherwise we need to go to the drugstore.”

  “I am,” she says, and I exhale sharply, as I ride the wave of relief. “Kids aren’t in my future,” she adds.

  “Good,” I say, in regards to the pill, not her comment about not wanting kids. Even though the sadness behind her statement has piqued my curiosity, I don’t ask for an explanation. I can’t help but wonder, though, she’s a girl who has it all, so why wouldn’t kids be in her future? Since it’s none of my business, and it’s best not to get too close, I don’t ask. Instead, I lift her from my cock and settle her on my lap.

  She smiles at me, and her warm fingers, so soft against my skin, brush my hair from my face. “Is the boy able to focus now?”

  Not even a little. Fuck, how can a guy expect to get any work done with a sexy little thing like Kylee a fuck away?

  “The girl is going to have to get another hobby. One that doesn’t involve humming.”

  And hopefully that hobby takes her away from the house during the day. She touches my cock, and it instantly thickens. Of course it does. It’s a traitorous bastard.

  “I believe she found one,” she murmurs as she bends forward, taking me so deep into her throat, humming is impossible.

  I am so fucked.

  Chapter Six: Kylee

  As I check the time and clean up my sewing room, I find myself humming again. My mind instantly rushes back to hours earlier, and I put my hand over my mouth to stifle the sound, but it’s too late.

  “Kylee,” Jamie growls from the other side of the window, and I chuckle.

  “Sorry.” I step up to the window and look at the gorgeous man ripping apart my back deck. He’s the epitome of virile male. Rock hard, fierce, a guy not to fuck with, yet I’ve been doing just that, and it’s been damn amazing. “Can I get you a drink?” I ask as a peace offering. “I made some fresh lemonade.”

  “Yeah,” he grumbles, and wipes his brow in such a guy way my ovaries clench. Seriously, I’m not making that shit up. My ovaries are actually clenching at the sexy sight of him. How could they not, right? I stare at him, memorize his hard body, take in the long, hard length of him so I can draw on it later when I’m back in Atlanta, stuck in a job I don’t want. I commit broad shoulders that taper to a trim waist and washboard abs to memory. Everything about this man exudes power, strength, an animal unleashed, and most times I can barely catch my breath when I’m around him. I’ve never seen a body with so many tattoos, never thought I would like it or find it sexy, but on Jamie it just works. Everything works, even his too-long hair, which keeps falling into his eyes.

  Drenched between my legs—again—I leave the sewing room and hurry to the kitchen, but my phone rings. I fish it from my purse and when I see my dad’s number, reality hits me over the head like one of the cold Atlantic waves from my backyard view.

  I stand there, debating whether to answer or not, but if I don’t, he’ll probably fly out here and check up on me. I slide my finger across the screen and lower my voice.

  “Hi Dad,” I say quietly.

  “Kylee,” he says. “How are things at the cottage? I’m sure everything is to your liking.”

  “It’s beautiful here,” I say, not a lie. I try to cover the phone, to hush the sound of the saw in the background.

  “Trevor said you’d love it there. He said he’s hoping to find some time to visit himself this summer.”

  Trevor, God. I so do not want to hear about the man my father is trying to set me up with. Yeah, he might have summered here his whole life, told Dad I’d love the place, which is what prompted him to buy this house in the first place, but that does not mean I want to spend time with him here. Seeing him in Atlanta is enough for me.

  Outside I watch Jamie’s muscles flex and relax again, and because he keeps distracting me, I turn my back to him and try to focu
s on my father and our conversation.

  “What’s all that noise?” he asks.

  My entire body stiffens. The man is a million miles away, yet he still has the ability to put me on the defense. “Oh, the back deck was rotten, so I thought I should replace it.”

  He goes quiet, and I can practically see him now, rubbing his chin and nodding his head as he deliberates on whether or not replacing the rotting deck is a good investment.

  “Well, if you think it was in need of replacing, I’m sure you’re right. A new deck will only add to the value in the end.”

  And there you have it.

  With my father, everything is about money and stature—everything Jamie is not—and Trevor, well, he’s Dad’s Mini-Me in every way. Maybe that’s why I’m attracted to Jamie. They say opposites attract. As soon as Jamie passes through my thoughts, he appears in front of me.

  “I have to go. Talk soon,” I say quickly. I don’t need Dad asking questions about my contractor or why he’s inside my cottage. I’m about to set the phone down when it pings, indicating a text coming in. I give it a quick glance and stiffen when I see the text from Trevor, asking me how I like the place. Ignoring it, I shove the phone into my purse, out of sight. The phone keeps pinging, more texts, and I slide my hand into my purse to turn off the volume.

  Jamie narrows his eyes, his gaze moving over my face, and I relax my shoulders to present calm. “Everything okay?” he asks.

  “Fine,” I say and hope my voice sounds as light as I’m trying to make it. Jamie and I are simply having sex, albeit great sex. He doesn’t need to know what’s going on in my life, just like I don’t need to know what’s going on in his. My problems aren’t his, and his problems aren’t mine. “Let me get you that drink.” I race to the kitchen and pour the lemonade. I turn to take it to him outside, but find him leaning against the doorjamb, watching me carefully. “Here you go.”

  I hand him the drink and his throat works as he swallows the entire contents in a few gulps. “More?” I ask. He wipes the back of his mouth with his hand and shakes his head.