“I brought a movie.” He pulled a DVD case from the inside pocket of his jacket.
A movie? She wanted to laugh. Really, the man was so full of surprises, she couldn’t keep up. “What, like The Story of O or Debbie Does Dallas?” She tsked and shook her finger at him. “Porn movies are considered props.”
He put his hand to his chest in mock offense. “It’s not a porno.” He flashed the case in her face.
She read and this time couldn’t help the burst of laughter. “You’re going to seduce me with Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo?”
“Are you maligning my movie choice?” He had such a seductive twinkle in his eye. He was so damn appealing, her heart actually beat faster.
“I just wanted to watch it,” he explained almost plaintively, “after you said it was funny. I happen to like a good comedy.”
This all felt very strange. The challenge had been about sex. This was beyond sex. She didn’t feel completely comfortable with it. The thought almost made her laugh. She was fine having sex with men, but she wasn’t at ease sitting with one while watching a movie. Get a grip, Stace! She had to admit it was definitely backward thinking.
She sighed. Then she chuckled and shook her head. He’d won this round. Honestly, what woman wouldn’t be tantalized when pursued by a man of Jud’s caliber?
“All right.” She stepped back and waved him in with a flourish. “But I’m only letting you in because I’m intrigued.” It might be her condo, but with Jud, she wasn’t so sure that gave her the home field advantage.
* * * * *
She’d slicked her hair back behind her ears, removed her makeup, and wore light blue pajamas. Flannel. He’d never have guessed she was a flannel woman. Satin, silk, or lace, yes, but not this. Fuzzy blue slippers encased her feet.
She made his heart race and stripped his ego down to bare-bones need.
He’d been ready to do heavy battle to get inside her door, but she’d acquiesced with only a mild reproof. Now, she took his jacket, hung it in the closet, and he stepped right into her life. Though she didn’t know that yet.
Faux marble covered the entry floor. Red roses filled a vase on a half-round table, the mirror above it reflecting the brilliant color. He followed the vision in blue flannel into her sanctuary, not the main living room, but through the first door on the right past the kitchen. The difference between it and the glass-and-chrome elegance of her living room was startling. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases crammed with paperbacks and stacks of DVDs scattered over the top of an already jam-packed holder. An easy chair with its footrest up faced the flat-panel TV, a pair of reading glasses tossed haphazardly on the table beside it.
This was the real Stacy Parrish.
“Sorry.” She shrugged, looking at the chair. “I never got around to buying a sofa.”
Because this was her room, her sanctuary. He had the feeling she’d never invited a man into it before.
“You can sit in my lap.” Squeezing her firm, shapely bottom, he pushed her toward the DVD player. “Why don’t you put the movie in?”
He reached into his jeans pocket and tossed the condom he’d brought on the table next to her chair.
Returning, she glanced at it as she grabbed the remote and commented dryly, “At least we know where this night is headed.”
“I wanted to be prepared for when you make your move.” He wanted her to initiate that kiss she’d denied him last night.
She laughed. “Maybe I can resist temptation.”
He realized they’d just issued each other another challenge. He was certainly up to the seduction. He sat, patting his lap. He wanted his hands on her, now.
She shook first one foot, then the other, dropping her slippers onto the carpet. The chair was large, and she settled against him, wrapping an arm around his neck as she pointed the remote. She smelled of some sweet floral scent like nothing she’d ever worn to the club. There, she was exotic, erotic Serena. Here, she was simply a woman, and he wanted her badly. As the opening credits rolled, she snuggled deeper into him, the soft shifting of her hips bringing his cock to attention.
The slight smile curving her lips said she knew exactly what she was doing to him, the little tease. But teasing worked both ways. Before the night was over, she’d be begging him to come inside her. And she would kiss him.
The movie made her laugh from the moment the pathetic Deuce went to the pet shop for sea snails. Jud felt the sexy sound deep in his vitals. Raising the flannel top to her waist, he petted her abdomen in slow, rhythmic strokes. Her skin was soft, fragrant. Without missing a beat, she pulled his hand from beneath the thin material and placed it on her knee. Like a teenage girl keeping her date in line. He stroked back up her leg, his thumb heading along the inside of her thigh. She clamped her legs. He punished her with a nip to the earlobe.
“You’re supposed to be watching the movie.”
“I am watching.” He once more slipped beneath the soft flannel and headed straight for one of her full, luscious breasts. The nipple beaded before he even touched it.
She pursed her succulent lips. “What just happened?”
“Your nipple got hard, and it’s begging me to suck it.”
She sighed. “I meant in the movie.”
“Deuce is going to become a gigolo.”
“You know that just from reading the back of the DVD.”
He grabbed the remote. “I think we should pause a moment.”
Then he lifted her shirt and took that very ripe nipple in his mouth. She arched against him, putting her hand to the back of his head and holding him close. He flicked his tongue over her, then sucked her deep, and she moaned. For a second. Then she pushed him away and took control of the remote.
“That’s enough for now. We’ll never finish the movie this way, and it’s really very funny.”
“I can touch you and watch the movie at the same time.”
“Yes, but you’re distracting me.”
And he’d bet that if he could get his hands between her legs, she’d be wet and wildly hot. He tried.
Stacy cupped his face in both her hands and put her nose down to his. “Stop that and watch the movie.”
Jud didn’t stop touching her, of course, but he did watch the movie. And laughed. Stacy snuggled in his lap, her arm around his neck, and his body touched her everywhere, set each nerve ending alight. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever done with a man. He kissed and petted her constantly, his hands all over, stroking, stoking her fire. Love bites on her neck, his tongue along the shell of her ear, kisses on her cheek, her eyelids, the corner of her mouth, her throat. He even caressed her feet. He skimmed up her leg from calf to thigh, smoothed over her hip, then followed the crease of her butt. He would have gone deeper, but she closed her legs. Which only served to make her hotter. She wriggled and fidgeted in his lap, continually riding that erection of his to further hardness. The condom was in sight on the table, and the game was who would grab for it first and who could hold off the longest.
And it was so damn much fun. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have fun in bed, but this was different in a way she couldn’t explain. And she wanted more.
When the movie got to the part where the woman with Tourette’s started hurling profanity at the couple in the next car, Jud grabbed her chin and kissed her soundly, his tongue deep in her mouth. “You have a raunchy sense of humor. I like it.”
She started thinking of the other movies she could show him, some a tad raunchy, a few dark comedies. Then caught herself. What? She was contemplating watching more movies with Jud?
During the strip dance scene, he sneaked a hand down her pajama bottoms and whispered, “I know I can do better.”
“No Speedos.”
“Oh please, please, let me wear the sequined Speedo.” His eyes sparkled with humor and little boy delight.
Her chest tightened, and her heart flipped over. It was like that moment in the bar when he’d offered her the lure of the proper blow job, and she’d suddenly
seen him in a whole new light. Here was another side of Jud, another aspect, another piece of the man revealed in his laughter and his warm eyes. And she wanted it, wanted him, the feelings overwhelming, the man himself utterly captivating. It wasn’t about sex or pleasure, it was about all the mysteries she’d uncovered and all the mysteries still to come. And she had to taste him.
She took his face in her hands and touched her mouth to his, opening to him, tonguing the ridge of his teeth. The kiss was sweet yet erotic, almost as if she were tasting him for the first time, and she was, because her eyes had been opened yet again. She slipped both arms around his neck and angled her head, making his mouth hers, plastering herself against the hard length of his body. He groaned, and the kiss deepened. He tasted of hot male, raunchy sex, and pure bliss. In all her experience, she’d never had this, at least not since she was in her twenties. But even then, it hadn’t been like this.
Far more than pleasure, it was passion.
She pulled back, breathing hard, her heart racing, and chanced a look at his eyes, almost afraid of what she’d see there. He simply skimmed a finger down her cheek to let it rest at the corner of her mouth.
Something simmered in his gaze, but his words were light, teasing. “To what do I owe that pleasure?”
“You make me laugh.” He made her heart beat faster and trapped her breath in her chest. There were other physical reactions, tight nipples, heat and wet gathering between her legs, but it was the racing heart that got to her, the warmth spreading through her chest and limbs. She shifted, bringing her legs up to straddle him.
Putting both hands on her behind, he tugged her body tight against him to cradle his cock, then he slid back up to grip her neck and tangle his fingers in her hair.
“If I make you laugh again, do I get another kiss?”
She nodded, but took his mouth before he even had a chance to try. She kissed him with her whole body, her thighs gripping his legs, her pussy making love to his cock through the layers of clothing, breasts to his chest, arms tight around his neck. She changed the angle of her mouth over and over, going deep, withdrawing, skimming his lips, then finally deep, deep once more. Her body purred, low, throaty sounds slipping from her mouth to his. His hands glided down her back and beneath her pajama bottoms to mold around her butt and intensify the pressure of his cock against her.
She hadn’t given herself up totally to the passion of a kiss in so long, she’d forgotten how good it could be. Even the few times Jud had kissed her, she’d held something back.
“We’re missing the end of the movie,” he finally said between her assaults on his mouth.
“I’ve seen it. I’ll tell you what happens.” Reaching down between them, she cupped his cock, squeezing first, then rubbing him to increased hardness through his jeans.
“Get naked with me,” she urged, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice, yet her fingers trembled with need.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
They’d had a challenge between them. Who could seduce whom first. Who would succumb first. He’d played her body lightly all night, but in the end, she’d been seduced by a mere look, a playful smile, and his boyish laugh.
And she didn’t give a damn that he’d won.
Chapter Eight
Stacy pulled Jud’s shirt over his head before she slid off his lap. He was quick to stand, unbuckle, unzip, and toe everything off into a heap on the floor.
“You are magnificent.” Hard lines of muscle, dark hair arrowing down his abdomen, taut buttocks, and the most beautiful cock she’d ever touched. Where were the signs of age on his superb frame? She touched, sliding her fingers down the center of his chest to the tip of his penis, and found only firm flesh everywhere her hand traveled.
He tipped her chin. “I’m almost half a century old, and I’m not perfect.”
Yet she couldn’t find any flaws.
His spicy male scent filled her head, and the heat in his eyes brought an answering rush of moisture between her thighs. God, she loved to be wanted like this. Her mind and body craved it like water, food, sustenance. Her interludes at the club had never come close to the way his touch shuddered through her.
Even last night, as good as it had been, was a level below what he made her feel right now.
He pulled the tie on her pajama bottoms, and they fell to carpet. Even as she stepped out of them, he tugged on the buttons of her top.
“I want your breasts.” They overflowed his big hands, and he stroked her nipples. Then he slid the sleeves off her arms. She was naked, no makeup, no hair gel, no clothing.
“Perfect,” he whispered, and the tone of reverence beat deep inside her.
He skimmed a finger down into the folds of her pussy. “You’re wet. And I’ve barely touched you.”
Jud had taken her from zero to sixty with unbridled laughter, lingering touches, and hot kisses. And what a master of kissing he was. The man could suck the face off the Mona Lisa and leave behind just her smile. Stacy was wet and ready for him. He pulled her into the chair, helping her slide her legs along the side of his thighs but maintaining inches between the fit of their bodies. When he entered her with two fingers, she shivered, and her body clamped down on him.
She tipped her head back and relished the mind and body sensations he created. “Fuck me with your fingers.”
He smiled, the color of his eyes deepening to the warmth of earth. He started a slow, unyielding pump. Another finger eased in with the first two, grazing a spot inside that spiraled her into mindlessness. There was only his fingers taking her, his voice whispering to her, and the steady, unstoppable climb to the pinnacle of passion.
“Kiss me while I’m inside you,” he murmured.
She would have done anything at that moment. She took his mouth, her tongue darting in rhythm to his touch inside her. He cupped the back of her neck, holding her steady, then he sucked her deep, taking her mouth, her lips, and her tongue the way his hand took her body. Completely. She let herself drown in his scent, in the sheer pleasure of his taste.
Then he withdrew from her, dragging a finger across her clitoris, and finally pulling his lips from hers. She felt dazed, needy, powerless. And impaled by his gaze.
She took a deep breath. “Fuck me, Jud. Please.” All she wanted was the feel of him inside her.
He held out the condom he’d put on the side table earlier. “Put it on me.”
She always employed condoms, and she often did the honors, yet the heat in Jud’s eyes made her want to raise the simple act of donning a condom from a mere necessity to part of the main course. She took the package from his hand, “Hmm, flavored,” then broke the seal and tossed aside the wrapper.
Scooting back on his lap, she stroked a hand down his cock. Heat seared her, his hardness in her soft palm, pulsing against her flesh. She went to place the latex, then backed off for a moment of consideration.
“You’re not hard enough to put it on yet.” He was a rigid staff in her hand and more than ready, but she needed a little play. Holding him tightly, she smoothed her thumb over the slit in his crown, smearing the tip with droplets of pre-come. He sucked in a breath. As she pumped him lightly in her fist, his hips surged upward, a curse seething through his lips.
“Hell, it’s hard enough. Any harder and I can drive a fucking car with it.”
“No,” she sighed, shaking her head, “still not quite there yet.” Her mouth watered for a taste of him, and she didn’t deny herself, sliding his cock into the depths of her mouth and back out again, teasing another drop of come from the crown.
“Jesus, Stacy, you’re killing me. Just put it on, dammit. Please.” His plea broke in the middle with a groan.
The sound was so damn powerful, it made her heart stutter and miss a beat. He was every woman’s wet dream, the fantasy of scores of women at The Sex Club, yet he’d chosen her, was begging her. She could get used to it, start to need it. In her current state, that didn’t bother her one damn bit.
&
nbsp; “Pushy, pushy,” she whispered. Placing the condom, she unfurled it, following its progress with her mouth as she did so, the flavor faintly strawberry. His shudder traveled along her thighs, through her belly, and straight up into her heart.
“Fucking tease,” he muttered, and she loved the harsh rasp of his voice. Then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her forward on his lap. He slid into her pussy so easily, so perfectly, as if he was meant to be there. The triumph of making him beg faded in the devastating sensation.
It was the most gentle taking she’d ever known, and in that, it carried its own power. She clung to his neck, burrowing against the side of his throat, and let him control each movement. There was nothing frantic, yet it was somehow so elemental. He filled her to her womb, sealed every empty space inside her, made her feel beautiful and desirable. He moved her hips over him, his hands guiding her to a faster pace.
“Kiss me again,” he demanded, and she took his mouth as deeply as his cock took her. Chest hair tantalized her nipples, warm breath puffed through her hair sending shivers along her scalp, and his cock inside her hit something deep and untouched.
She always stroked her clitoris during intercourse, or made the man do it. She needed outside stimulation. With Jud, there was only how he felt inside her, the glide of his penis, the grip of her pussy on him, the heat rushing through her body, the electricity in his touch, and his minty taste against her tongue.
She came from the inside out, shattering, moaning against his throat. When he pulsed in her, shoved up hard one last time, rotating her against him before the throb of his orgasm filled her, she came again, melting into his arms, holding onto him during the last moments of passion. Held onto the fleeting, once-in-a-lifetime feeling.
In her orgasmic bliss, it felt like making love.
* * * * *
Jud didn’t know how long they sat in the chair, his cock still inside her, her silky skin pressed against him, her delicate scent entering his mind and his heart. Her lips moved against his neck, the dampness of her tongue sending a spiral of warmth down to his gut. When he came, he’d given her a piece of himself, and he’d taken a piece of her.
Invitation to Passion: Open Invitation, Book 3 Page 8