by Skye Jordan
He swung around and lay back on the bench, positioning himself under the bar. “Want to spot me?”
“You trust me to save you from three hundred pounds?” she asked, wandering toward him and setting her bottle on a neighboring bench. “You do love risky behavior, don’t you?”
“Life itself is inherently risky.” He tried to keep his mind from sliding sideways and right into sex, where he’d pushed it aside, but with Julia standing at the head of the bench, her hands poised to help with the bar if needed, he was now looking up the length of that amazing body. Hell if his mind wanted to be anywhere but mired in thoughts of learning every spot that made her moan.
He pushed the bar from the rack and gave thanks for the extra fifty pounds. It forced his body into the bench, his muscles into action, and his mind into neutral. He pounded out the reps and racked the bar. Then rolled off the bench, planted his hands on the mat-covered floor, and kicked up to a handstand.
“Well done,” Julia said, grinning. “How about a few push-ups?”
“No.” He forced the word out with the little energy he had left.
“What about walking a few steps?”
If he weren’t using every ounce of strength just to stay in position, he would have had the brainpower to come up with some snarky comment about being on his hands, not his feet. Instead, he counted off the seconds, “Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven—”
With a silly little smile on her face, she reached out with one finger and poked him in the ribs.
His balance wavered, and he adjusted his hands.
“Hold on, hold on,” she encouraged, “twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty…” She pushed him again, making Noah use his whole body to stay up on his hands. “Tighten that core, Hunt.”
“Knock it off,” he growled, lowering to his feet before she pushed him over, then returned to the bench for more presses. “Shit stirrer.”
“Not me.” Julia followed, her hands hovering over the bar again. “If you can hold a handstand for thirty seconds, you can do a few push-ups or walk a few steps.”
“Seventeen,” he counted, “eighteen, nineteen, twenty.” Noah racked the weight and rolled back to the floor. While resting on all fours, he glanced up at her. “If you touch me again, I’m taking you down. Consider yourself warned.”
She was looking a little too smug when he kicked his feet into the air. Then she tipped into a smooth, practiced handstand beside him.
She shot him a grin and challenged, “Beat you to the wall.”
Her hands moved freely across the mat, her laugh echoing through the gym.
“You little…” He trailed off, putting all his effort into moving forward without losing his balance. But she was a good six “steps” ahead.
“Come on, Superstar,” she said, her breath heaving. “Catch me.”
He pushed his hands into a bigger reach and caught up with her. But as soon as he got close, she leaned into one hand and used the other to shove at his shoulder.
“Oh, ambush! You fight dirty.” Noah’s shoulders burned like they were on fire, but he leaned into one arm long enough to reach out and grip the side of her waist.
She squealed and pushed his hand away, but she was too far off-balance and collapsed, rolling to the floor in a scream of defeat.
Quicker than he could regain his own balance, she reached up and pulled at his shorts, and Noah followed her to the floor.
He landed in a pile, half on top of her, half beside her, their legs tangled. They were both breathing hard, laughing, spent.
“That doesn’t count,” she said between breaths. “You didn’t win. Rematch when you’re out of reach.”
“You started it. That’s an automatic forfeit.”
She pushed up on her elbows. “You’re full of shit.” When he pushed up as well, she shoved his shoulder. “You don’t make the rules, Superstar.”
He pushed her back. “Neither do you, Fascist.”
When she reached out to push him again, he grabbed her wrist, rolled onto his back, and dragged her on top of him. With his hands gentle around her biceps, he soaked in the feel of her body sinking against his—the swell of her breasts against his chest, the press of her flat belly to his, her sex smothering his hardening erection.
He was sweaty, hot, and crossing every boundary she’d set in place today. But she didn’t scream and shove him away in disgust the way any other woman would when he’d been working out. No, this chick just grinned down at him with decadent, heavy-lidded eyes.
“Quick moves, Superst—”
He lifted his head and pressed his lips to hers. They were soft and warm and sweet, and they moved beneath his in a tentative kiss. Her long dark eyelashes curved against the creamy skin along her cheekbone, and Noah let his own eyes close. He slid his fingers into her silky hair, then tilted his head and took the kiss deeper. She opened to him with a sigh, tantalizing his mouth with sweet heat, and his mind hazed over. Their tongues met, stroked, swirled. She tasted like chocolate and heat and lust. And in that moment Noah knew he’d need all night with her. One round would never be enough.
She slid one arm around his head, dropping into the kiss as if she needed him to breathe. Noah groaned into her mouth, tightened his arm around her lower back, and lifted his hips into hers. She drew a sharp breath and broke the kiss, whispering his name against his cheek. She pushed against his abdomen and sat up. Her legs parted; her knees pressed to the mat alongside his hips. The position only added pressure to his cock, and he reflexively pushed into the weight.
“Oh wow…” She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it off her face. “This seemed like a better idea in my head.”
“I love the fact that it’s been in your head.” Noah pulled himself into a sitting position and wrapped both arms around her. With only an inch between them, he said, “But I like it better outside your head.”
Then he kissed her again, moving his lips over hers, licking across the smooth surface until he coaxed her open again. Another one of those sexy sighs flowed from her mouth, and triumph lightened his head. She explored him with luscious suckles, deep, erotic strokes of her tongue, and teasing licks. Noah had forgotten how good kissing could be. How sensual. How exciting.
Her arms closed around his shoulders, her hands scraped into his hair—his damp, sweaty hair—and she moaned into his mouth. Damn, she was deliriously sexy. He let his hands roam and found her as perfect as she looked, her body all hard planes and toned curves. Gripping her hips, he pulled her close again, fitting their bodies intimately. A feathery moan drifted from her mouth as she broke the kiss. Her eyes closed, her head fell sideways, and her brow tightened in pleasure.
Lust blasted through Noah’s lower body, spearing his cock, flooding his hips, shooting up his spine. He lifted into her, rubbing against her, and they groaned at the same time.
All Noah’s initial thoughts of slow and all night spiraled into a tight ball of right now. Right. Fucking. Now.
His hands slid beneath her top, pushed up, cupped her breasts—bare, full, perfect breasts. “Holy hell,” he muttered against her neck, nipping her there. “You’re so hot.”
“Noah…” she said, her voice languid at first, then sharpening. “Shit, wait.”
He froze, hands on her sides, thumbs on her breasts, mouth on her neck, cock throbbing against her pussy. “Yeah?”
“Wow, that got out of hand fast,” she breathed and leaned back, pulling her hair off her face. Her flushed, gorgeous face. “I’m sorry.”
He looked up at her, stroked the curves of her breasts with his thumbs. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. I want you. You want me. We’re all good here.”
But she wasn’t convinced. A little vertical frown line crept between her brows, and the spark in her eyes had drifted away.
Noah cupped her face in both hands and lifted her eyes to his. “I know what you’re thinking, but I wasn’t with Samantha last night.”
She shook her hea
d. “Not my business—”
“It’s your business if it’s keeping you from saying yes now.”
God, this was bizarre. He never explained himself to a woman. His motto had always been take it or leave it. But he wanted Julia right now so badly, he could taste it on the back of his tongue. Too hard up for too long, that was what this was. Yet a little voice in his head whispered, You didn’t even try to wake Samantha when she fell asleep on you.
“Listen,” he said, forcing his voice soft. “It happened just like I told you earlier. I brought her home, yes. I fully intended to have sex with her, yes. But we passed out before anything happened. I didn’t have sex with her. I haven’t had sex with anyone since before the accident.”
Shit, he’d lost control of his mouth. Of his mind. That wasn’t sexy. Nothing about desperation was sexy. She said nothing, just kept frowning at him, the wheels of her mind spinning in the background.
Noah pulled her hand from her hair and curled it into his, kissing her knuckles. “And I’m not your client. You don’t even want me as a client. You’re still hell-bent on leaving tomorrow?”
That seemed to sober her. Those pretty eyes, warm as caramel, sharpened. She sighed, looked away, nodded.
He drew her gaze back to his. “Then give me tonight. Nothing more. Just two people hot for each other spending the night together.”
Her gaze lowered to his mouth, and she scraped her lower lip between her teeth. “This stays between us?”
That hit him a little sideways. Too often woman wanted others to know they’d fucked him. Thought it somehow made them hotter or more important or…shit, he didn’t understand their thought process. But he was often nothing but a conquest, which had always fit his agenda just fine. Now, he didn’t like the thought of being an embarrassment to Julia. Someone below her normal standards, like she was slumming. But he wanted her bad enough not to mention it.
“Absolutely,” he promised.
“You’re sure? Because in my position, it would be seen as really, really bad judgment to sleep with—”
“I’m not your client. And I’m totally sure.” He slipped his fingers beneath the hem of her tank and thrilled at the feel of her skin—warm, smooth, soft. Leaned in and kissed her shoulder with a murmured, “No one will know but you and me.”
“It’s just that…” Her hands scraped through his hair again, and need enveloped her expression. “It’s a really small community, you know. People love to gossip—”
He kissed her quiet, then pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “Why are you suddenly talking so much?”
“Um…nerves?”
Her fingers raked lightly over the skin of his shoulders, creating gooseflesh. He smiled. Kissed her again. “I know a great way to take the edge off.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Want me to show you?”
“Oh, Jesus, God, yes.”
He laughed and held her tight as he rolled to his knees, then used his good leg to push up with Julia in his arms—thank God for weighted squats.
“No, Noah,” she said, holding on to his shoulders. “Your foot—”
“Can take twice your weight. I’ll prove it.” He bent at the knees and hoisted her over his shoulder.
“Oh my God. Noah!” She gripped the waistband of his shorts. “What are you doing?”
With one arm around her thighs, he started toward the door. She was heavier than she looked, which he’d known she would be. Muscle always weighed more, and she was all muscle. But the lust in his body acted like a pain reliever, because thinking about stripping her naked in his bed, tasting and touching her everywhere before he sank deep inside her and let go, overtook his mind. There was no room for pain.
“I’m taking you upstairs,” he said, exiting the gym and heading for the staircase. He didn’t care if he had to get up them on his knees, as long as Julia was his reward. “I’m going to spread you out on my big bed, I’m going to undress you, kiss you everywhere—”
“Not if you hurt yourself on the way,” she said when Noah was already on the third stair. “Please put me down.”
“But, see, if I put you down, I’ll start kissing you, then groping you. We might not make it off the stairs before I just had to have you.” He neared the top, breathing hard, the pain in his ankle starting to break through the lust. “And look…here we are.”
He used the banister to help him the last two steps, then swung into his room and tossed her onto his bed, in the middle of his big, fluffy white comforter. Her laugh made him smile. The sight of her dark hair tangled all over his bed, lying across her face made him laugh.
Noah dropped onto all fours over her, knees flanking her thighs, hands flanking her shoulders. She pushed the hair from her eyes, and when it was all out of the way, her gaze homed in on his. She was smiling as she reached up and caressed his face, her eyes following her hands as she touched him everywhere—forehead, cheeks, jaw, chin. Her fingers trailed over his lips, traced his eyelids, skimmed down his nose.
“You’re so handsome.”
The reverent tone of her voice touched something deep inside him. The words seemed to knock on a door to a place where no one was allowed. Women told him he was hot or sexy, usually while in the throes of sex. This felt different. Everything about Julia felt different.
“And you’re so buzzed.” He laughed and cupped her cheek. “But not too buzzed, right? I want you to remember every single minute of tonight in the morning.”
She grinned, the expression hot and sweet at the same time. Her hand covered his, and she turned her face to kiss his palm. Then met his eyes as she parted her lips and took his index finger into her mouth.
Heat surrounded him, then she sucked, pressing her mouth firmly around his finger, her tongue stroking the underside. And all Noah could think of was having his cock in her mouth. Of watching her suck him. Of sliding in and out between those lips.
Blood rushed his groin, hot and hard. “God…” He growled from his throat. “Will you do that to my cock?”
“Mmm,” she murmured, pulling his finger from her lips, then licked the tip. “Maybe.”
He grinned again. Jesus, he couldn’t stop smiling. It was ridiculous. He leaned in and kissed her again, loving the way her mouth greeted him, soft and warm and open. He was about to pull back and bring up the whole shower topic, but Julia’s hands stroked over his wet chest, moved down his damp abdomen. One hand pushed at the waistband of his shorts; the other slipped inside, took his cock in her palm, and stroked.
Noah sucked air just before fireworks burst behind his eyes. “Oh Jesus.” His hips pushed into the pressure, and he groaned with the beauty of perfection all along the length. “Julia…”
“Mmm,” was all she said, pushing at his shorts with her feet, her hands all over his package until he could barely breathe.
He leaned into one arm and gripped one of her wrists with the other. “Baby, slow down a little…”
But his shorts hit the floor. Her hands gripped his hips and pulled.
“Can’t wait,” she murmured before her mouth found his, her tongue stroking in ways that made his mind focus on nothing but sinking into her again and again.
He growled, breaking the kiss to reach for the bottom of her shirt. “You’re making me crazy.”
He pulled her top over her head, exposing creamy white flesh and taut pink nipples on
perfect mounds. He molded and squeezed her breasts in his hands. They were full and firm and beautiful, just like the rest of her.
She slid her hands into his hair and pulled. “Come here.”
“Not done yet.” Before he got too lost in her breasts, he slid his hands down the sides of her taut torso, kissing a straight line from her neck to the waistband of her leggings, and slid off the bed only long enough to drag her pants off, then her panties. The tiny, lacy things barely covered her pussy and were the same color as the neat triangle of hair beneath.
He lowered his mouth to her and swirled his
tongue into the folds, where he found the tight nub he stroked again and again. Her hips lifted, her breath hitched, her hand combed through his hair. “Noah…”
His name was part warning, part plea. He’d been ready to slide back up her body, to fill her, to pump inside her, but this obvious need demanded attention. One he was more than happy to fulfill. He wanted to discover every last secret hidden inside Julia tonight, and this was a perfectly tasty way to start.
He spread his hands over her inner thighs and pressed them wide. Her scent, a mix of musk and floral, sank into him like velvet claws, riveting, tantalizing.
“Noah,” she said, breathless, her fingers closing around the strands of his hair. “I can’t wait.”
“You don’t have to.”
God, he loved this. Loved her eagerness, her breathlessness, her passion. Some women were just plain-ass hard work in bed. But not Julia. She was hot and wet and ready and he’d barely touched her. They would have such fun tonight.
He slipped both hands under her ass, her perfectly taut, spanking-ready ass cheeks, and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed, then knelt, letting her legs drape over his shoulders. He covered her with his mouth first, tasting her with long, firm strokes of his tongue. Tangy, clean, edgy. Hot, soft, silky. Heavenly.
She rocked and writhed, emitting sounds of pleasure that could easily have been misconstrued as pain. Shock, pleasure, need, they were all voiced through moans and mewls, music to Noah’s ears as he deliberately inched her toward orgasm. He let his thumbs stroke her wet opening and the sensitive surrounding skin while his tongue ferretted out the nub trying to hide inside her plump folds. And once he uncovered her sweet clit, he gently drew it between his lips and suckled. And suckled. And suckled.
Her free hand fisted the comforter, her back arched, mouth fell open on a cry. And her orgasm broke as a wild frenzy of convulsive body jerks and twists, the kind that fry your mind way better than alcohol. The kind that brought deeper relief. And definitely the kind he needed, now that he’d brought that experience to her.