Leveled

by Cathryn Fox

  I lean in again and run my lips along her throat. I catch the sweet scent of her arousal and breathe it into my lungs, unable to get enough of her. “Why did you follow in your parents’ footsteps if you hate it so much?”

  “What makes you think I hate it?” she asks, a tremble moving through her as I softly lick her earlobe. Jesus, I love the way her body reacts to me. She lets loose a breath and it flutters against my skin.

  “When you told Gram you were a lawyer, your lips pursed like you’d just sucked a lemon.” I place my hand on her throat to feel the way her body is humming with pleasure.

  She chuckles, and the sweet sound covers me like a caress. Her hands move to my shoulders, and she touches me gently, traces a few of my deeper scars. “I had no idea I was so transparent.” A tortured laugh catches in her throat. “That’s not a great trait for a lawyer.”

  “So why did you go into law?” I press, wanting to know more, everything, about her, even though getting in too deep with the pampered rich girl goes against my own best interests. Everything I stand for. “Why did you do it, especially when you have such talent in design and it seems to be your true passion?”

  She hesitates for a moment and looks down. I touch her shoulder to bring her attention back around to me. She tilts her head to meet my gaze and whispers, “It was expected of me.”

  I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you always do what’s expected of you?”

  “Apparently. My father is a very controlling man. He hated the idea of me going into design. He said I’d never make it in the fashion business and that my designs weren’t good enough.”

  Son of a bitch. My throat tightens to the point of pain, and I take a second to pull myself together before I hop on my bike and personally hunt the douchebag down. How could any fucking man—a father at that—so brutally shatter his little girl’s dreams? I place my palm on her cheek and she leans into me, her body beckoning my touch.

  “That’s a pretty shitty thing to say. And for what it’s worth, Kylee, he was wrong.”

  She gives me a sweet smile, but I get the sense she doesn’t believe me or believe in herself. I guess that’s the kind of thing that happens when you have no one to champion your true ambitions. I know all too well what that’s like and from here on out, I’m going to show her she’s good enough—better than good enough—and that I believe in her talent.

  “I guess I’ll never know,” she whispers quietly

  My heart aches for the girl desperate for approval. Maybe we have more in common than I ever thought. “My dad hated that I wanted to be a tattoo artist,” I say, and I’m not sure if I’m doing it to console her or because I want to open up to her and share my pain too. “He was pretty shitty about it, I can tell you that. I was always a dreamer, and he hated that I lived in my head.” My heart pinches as I think about my upbringing. Fuck, I miss my parents so much. “But you know what? He was always there for his family. He was a hard-ass son of a bitch, Kylee, but he was always there for his family.” Even after I was accused of rape and thought he was going to beat the living shit out of me, he stood by my side.

  “You guys are all there for each other,” she says, her voice wistful, longing. “I love your family, Jamie. Summer was so lucky tonight.” When her voice wavers, I glance up at her, and she puts her hands on my face, and her gaze searches mine. “You look tired,” she says and brushes my hair back. “What time is it?”

  “Late,” I say. “But I’m never too tired for this.” I dip my head and slowly drag my tongue over her pussy. Her body shudders at the first sweet touch of my tongue. She exhales a shuddery intimate laugh that catches in her throat as she relaxes into my touch. Finally. Her hands rake through my hair and she moves against my mouth. “I’ve been thinking about this moment all night,” I say from between her thighs.

  “Me too,” she says. “I couldn’t wait for you to get home.”

  Home.

  This isn’t home, Jamie. And this thing between you and Kylee, well, it’s just sex. You’ve been down this road, don’t set yourself up for disaster, by thinking this is more than it really is . . .

  She continues to run her hand though my hair as I lick her pussy, and my blood pulses hotter. Her clit is hard, inflamed. “Have you been aching for my mouth here?” I ask and run my fingers over her wet sex. As I pet her lightly, she touches my arm, her fingers soft and hot on my skin. Warmth streaks through me, driving back the cold that resides inside me, hovering in my darkest corners. But, for self-preservation reasons, I keep that coldness close, a continual reminder of past mistakes.

  “Yes,” she admits, a strange new comfort between us as I take her slow, instead of fast and hard like I’d promised. Maybe I should go savage on her, ravage her hard and fast, because what I’m doing now, well, it feels an awful lot like lovemaking and scares the living shit out of me.

  Working to keep my mind on the physical act only, I say, “Getting my mouth on you is all I’ve been able to think about.”

  “The girl wants that, too,” she says. The teasing way she refers to herself as the girl is like a slap in the face, a wake-up call that this is sex and we’re each playing a role. With that thought in mind, I work to keep a measure of emotional distance.

  “The girl should have what the girl wants.”

  Her body flushes with color as I probe her wet opening, and she writhes and moans, her hands palming my shoulders and tugging me to her, like she can’t get me close enough.

  “I liked what we did on Skype, but it left me needing you,” she admits.

  “I wanted you so badly tonight,” I say, needing to lighten my mood. “I nearly got caught rubbing one out in that damn supply closet,” I say and laugh.

  She chuckles, a sound mixed with humor and lust. “You are so bad, Jamie.”

  I push a finger inside her pussy and she clamps hard around me. I damn near fucking sob when I find her so hot, wet, and ready for me. Every. Single. Time. “I’d do it again though, if you wanted me to. I’d get into all kinds of trouble for you, Kylee.”

  “You were the one who called me.” Her eyes light up, fill with laughter. “I was going along with you.”

  “Did you like it?” I wiggle my finger inside her and she groans.

  “Yeah, I liked it.”

  Her pussy muscles grip me hard and my cock aches to get inside her heat. “Then I think you’re as bad as me.”

  “More like you’re corrupting me.”

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?” I ask as I roughly, greedily pull a nipple into my mouth. She groans and holds my head to her body, her erotic whimper stroking my dick.

  “No, what I think you’re doing is giving me the best sex of my life.”

  I grin at that, feeling a measure of smug satisfaction. I kiss her nipple and begin a slow descent, savoring the satiny warmth of her skin. My touch is slower this time, softer, less hurried. I reach her pussy and press my mouth hungrily into her sweetness. I deepen the kiss as I fuck her with my fingers. Her body shudders, so close to coming apart for me. I slow down, not ready to bring her over yet, not until my mouth has had its fill.

  Like that’s ever going to fucking happen.

  She whimpers, her breathing harsh as her hips rock into me, moving, pressing, seeking what her body craves. As much as I want to be inside her, the desperate ache in my groin growing heavier, shrieking for relief, I have no intention of removing my mouth from her hot little cunt. Earlier tonight, just knowing I could come back here and put my mouth on her, lick her until she comes, is the only thing that got me through the long wait at the hospital.

  I glance up and see the mesmerized look on her face as her gaze follows my every movement. “You like watching me lick you?”

  She nods, completely open with me about her desires, and I fucking love that. No games, no inhibitions, just two people enjoying each other’s bodies. As my world becomes her pleasure, I shift to give her a better look, but then I see her stand-up mirror in the corner. She cries o
ut in distress when I slip out from between her legs, but when I reposition the mirror beside us so she can watch everything I’m doing to her, her groan becomes a moan of approval.

  I angle her body, the explicit position completely exposing her, and press my fingers inside her as she props herself up on one elbow. She watches intently in the mirror, her eyes glassy, the ecstasy on her face filling me with a different kind of pleasure. Using long deep pushes, I slide my fingers in and out of her. Her muscles spasm, burn against my skin. The blood in my body practically ignites as her sweet sexy sounds urge me on, and she’s so desperate for release now, I know I need to end the sweet torment.

  I circle her clit with my tongue and lightly brush the hot bundle of nerves inside her. Her eyes go wide, her mouth slack, the need coming to a peak.

  “Jamie,” she whimpers, her composure slipping away as her body succumbs to the pleasure and lets go. Her hot juices drip down my hand and I bury my face in her gorgeous cunt. No fucking way am I missing a drop of her honey sweetness. I flatten my tongue and lick her, long lazy strokes from the bottom to the top and her thighs hug my head. I swear to fucking God, I could stay between her legs for an eternity and only come out when I need air. She gives a fluttery little breath when her body stops spasming, and I glance up at her, catch the way she’s nibbling her lips.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I . . . want . . .” she begins but her words fall off. She touches my hair, pushes it from my face. What is going on in that beautiful mind of hers?

  “Tell me what you want, Kylee, and I’ll give it to you.”

  A pause and then, “Earlier, at the hospital, what you said . . .”

  “About fucking your breasts,” I run my hand over her hard nipples and she leans into me. “Then again, I talked about fucking this pretty mouth too.” I slowly push a finger into her mouth and she runs her tongue over it. A wave of possessiveness swamps me, taking me by surprise, and I work diligently to breathe past it.

  “I want all those things,” she says, “But right now I want . . .”

  Her voice falls off like she’s still too embarrassed to tell me. After everything we’ve done, she has no need to be self-conscious and I won’t have any of it.

  “Say it,” I whisper. “Don’t hold back with me, ever.”

  She nods, sucks in a breath, and says, “I want to watch . . . you, like you did at the hospital. Then I want your cock in my mouth. I want to make you feel good, Jamie.”

  I slant my head. She wants to watch me, make me feel good? That’s not at all what I expected her to say. “Yeah?” I ask, my voice lower.

  “I want to watch you touch yourself.” She gulps. “I know I saw it through Skype, but I want to see it here, now. And I want your cum, Jamie.”

  I love her openness and try to talk past the knot in my throat. “You liked that, did you?”

  She nods, and the eagerness in her eyes excites me. “Well, I liked watching you, too. It was fucking hot.” I push her hair from her face, take in her pretty pink blush. “You never have to ask for my cum. I want to fill you with it, everywhere.”

  She whimpers. “I want it everywhere, too,” she says, need thickening her voice. “I want everything with you.”

  Yeah, and therein lies the problem because I want everything with her too. But that’s a stupid thought, one I shouldn’t be having. Not only is she leaving at the end of summer, when she finds out who I am and gets a whiff of my rap sheet, uncovers all my dirty secrets, this good girl is going to run a million miles in the opposite direction—and I don’t blame her.

  But those worries are for later, when she’s not reaching for my jeans and shoving them to my thighs. I step back, make quick work of my pants, and grab my cock by the base. Desire grows in her eyes as her hand snakes out. She places it on my oblique muscles and my body trembles at her touch.

  I move my hips, thrust hard into my hand, and she swallows hard as her hand follows the motions. The sound reverberates through my blood and fuels my hunger. Every nerve in my body comes alive as she watches me stroke my cock.

  “I’ve never watched a man do this before,” she says, and I quickly close my eyes against the image of another man’s hands on her body, desperate to dispel it.

  She leans into me, and with each thrust forward, licks my crown. I shake my head, blindsided by lust and all the ways this woman pleasures me. Just when I thought sex with her couldn’t get any better.

  Fuck me.

  I grip her hair and pull it back so I can see her pretty tongue. She laps at the pre-cum pooling on my slit and moans in delight. Fuck, she’s just so goddamn perfect. She cups my balls, massages them gently, and they pull up into my body.

  “Take me into your mouth,” I say.

  She rocks on the edge of the bed, and my cock hits the back of her throat. The sweet torture makes me throb. She whimpers, but the heat in her eyes as I catch our reflection in the mirror tells me it’s from pleasure.

  “That’s it, Kylee. Take my cock into your throat. Let me know how much you like watching me rub my cock while I’m thinking about your hot pussy.”

  She widens her mouth and I power into her. Honest to fuck, the way she wants me, the way she is trying so hard to take me deep into her throat is a complete mind fuck. She relaxes her throat, takes me an inch deeper, and the erotic assault on my senses is too much for me to take. I don’t want to lose control, it’s too soon, but I can no longer hold off. I let loose a loud growl. I rock my hips, pleasure seeps from every dark corner, merges between my legs, and spills into her mouth. She gulps and swallows all of me, and my heart slams against my chest. Jesus, she’s really something. She drinks all of me then grins up at me.

  “Is that what the boy needed?” she asks.

  I grin. “Yeah, is it what the girl needed?”

  “Definitely,” she murmurs, her look so sexy and sated, my cock twitches. I place a soft kiss onto her forehead and nudge her shoulders until she’s flat out on the bed. I circle in, slide in beside her, and pull her close. Her body relaxes into mine, and when she gives a contented sigh, I pull her hair back and place a light open-mouth kiss onto her cheek. She cuddles into me, and warmth settles into my stomach as her soft moan wraps around us like a blanket. As we drift off to sleep I try not to think about how nice it was to know she was here waiting for me to come home, how I could so easily get used to falling asleep with her in my arms every night, or better yet, waking up with her each morning. But this is just an affair, nothing more—and I’ve got this.

  Yeah right.

  Chapter Ten: Kylee

  I stretch out on the bed, my body sore, hurting in hidden places that have rarely been used, or beautifully abused, before—but it’s a good sore. My lids spring open as sweet memories of last night come rushing back in an erotic flash. Heat floods my veins, scorching through my body on its way to the needy juncture between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together and nearly bring on another orgasm. What have I become?

  Honest to God, I can’t believe I was brazen enough to ask Jamie to touch himself for me last night. But it was more than me just wanting him to “touch” himself. I actually asked him to masturbate while I watched, then took his beautiful cock down my throat as far as humanly possible—and then some. Everything we did last night, from the Skype sex to our coming together in the bedroom, was delightfully naughty and so out of character for me. This man is totally corrupting me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Heat moves into my face as I relive the moment, but my blush isn’t from embarrassment. No, it’s from want. I want Jamie—again. I turn in the bed, and when I find the other side of the mattress empty, unease rushes through me.

  I jackknife up and listen for sound. When I don’t hear a circular saw or a hammer out on my back deck, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and listen for movement inside my cottage. My gaze strays to the clock and I shake my head. No wonder I’m so tired. It’s barely the crack of dawn and Jamie and I hadn’t settled in to sleep until the wee hours of
the morning. My body warms again when I think about what kept us up so late.

  Since it’s Sunday and too early to work on the deck—no need to wake the vacationers who’ve already returned and have them pissed off at me—I tug on my robe and pad quietly through my chilly cottage. Had Jamie gotten up in the middle of the night and left, taken Scout back home, without so much as a goodbye? I know we’re not dating, and we’re not a couple who needs to check in with the other, but there is a part of me that wishes he had said goodbye, or . . . something. The cottage feels lonely without his presence, and as much as I hate to admit it, I feel a strange sense of emptiness.

  Not good, Kylee, so not good.

  I reach the kitchen and notice that Scout’s bed is still in place, and the coffee in the pot hasn’t reached its two-hour shut-off point yet. A note on the counter catches my eye and a little thrill goes through me.

  Took Scout for a walk. Didn’t want to wake you this early. Breakfast later?

  I drop the note, pour a quick cup of coffee, and sip it as I hurry back to the bedroom, a little bubble of excitement welling up inside me. I dress in my running shorts and tug on a T-shirt. It’s cold this time of the morning, but if I’m running, I’m going to work up a sweat so I don’t bother with a sweater. I exit through the back screen door and think about resetting the alarm system but decide against it. Like Jamie said, no one in Blue Bay ever locks their doors. My mind goes back to the creeped-out feeling I had last night, but I try to dispel it. I do have an overactive imagination—Lord knows my father berated me about it enough—but here in Blue Bay, the only danger the vacationers face is a rogue wave.

  Or falling for Jamie.

  I hurry outside and run toward the water, okay, more like speed walk, since I’m so freaking out of shape. My runners sink into the wet sand as the cool, salt spray falls over me. My hair tightens and coils like a damn Slinky on crack, compliments of the briny air. How attractive. I smooth the wayward strands down, but they frizz and stick together like Velcro. Giving up, I scan the distance, searching for signs of Jamie.