by Lisa Wells
“You’ve got a really, great ass,” he said, resting his chin on the top of her head.
“Not really,” she corrected him. As fantasies go, it was the wrong response. It was out before she could filter it through the fantasy.
“You doubt my judgment?” he whispered, moving his lips to her earlobe where he nipped softly.
Lacey flattened her palms against his chest and pushed. “You’re distracting me aren’t you?” she accused. “You’re expecting sex as repayment for rescuing me?”
Bemusement filled his eyes. “Yes,” he said, with a slight tilt to his head.
She wagged her finger at him. “I can’t do that; I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Is this real or is this fantasy?” he asked. He grabbed her finger and sucked on it.
Lacey yanked it out of his mouth. “It’s all in how you look at it,” she admitted. She ran across the sandbar to the tent. Bending down, she unzipped the opening and crawled inside. When he didn’t follow, she poked her head out and looked at him. “I’ll share my tent with you.”
Chapter 16
Covey scowled. “You’re a lot of work,” he yelled, loud enough for Lacey to hear.
“I’m worth it,” she yelled back.
He chuckled. “I bet you are.” He stripped out of his boxers, left them lying on the sand, and strolled to the tent. The woman was a curse of personalities. Who in the hell was she going to be when he entered the tent?
He lifted the flap, prepared for anything, and was rewarded with a lantern view of Lacey stretched out on a fur skin rug. He forgot his frustration and gawked. Tonight’s sunset had been breathtaking, but it didn’t hold a candle to the sight of Lacey.
She observed him through lowered lashes as he bent down and crawled into the tent with her.
Without warning, she sat up straight and her eyes flashed fire.
What the hell? He started to back carefully out of the tent, then he realized she was role playing. It was the tiny tilt to her lips as her glare faded that gave her away. Other than that, she was the perfect image of an outraged woman who’d just caught a man using a telescope to look into her bedroom.
“How dare you enter my dressing room. Close your eyes while I get dressed,” she ordered.
Did she have any idea how sensuous her voice sounded when filled with anger? Or, what it did to him?
His eyes never waivered from her as he settled into the tent. Only a saint would follow her ridiculous order to close his eyes. Anyone who knew him, knew he was no saint. Not even close.
She dragged a white T-shirt out of a bag and slipped it over her head. It fit her snugly. It shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did, to see a big pair of red lips on the front of the shirt. The curve of the lips outlined the curve of her tits.
She took out a large brush, frowned at him with full pouty lips, and began caressing her hair with long, firm strokes. “You didn’t close your eyes,” she accused.
He shrugged. “I’m not very good at following rules.” He laid down on the rug beside her. Who brings fur rugs to the river?
Her nipples pushed against the cotton T-shirt. They were begging for male attention. He was more than willing to fulfill their request. Leaning up on one elbow, he reached out and touched a nipple.
She swatted his hand away and scooted into the corner of the tent. He rolled over and leaned up on both elbows to view her. She was looking at him with her eyes squeezed into a critical squint.
“No, I don’t suppose you are any good at following rules,” she said, with a sigh.
He laughed. They agreed on something. “Rules are for married guys,” he said. He knew full well he was pressing his luck with the macho taunt.
Surprisingly, he didn’t get an outraged reaction out of the sexist comment. Instead, the icy shell of an affronted woman melted into one eager to please her man. He couldn’t help but wonder how many acting classes she had to take to become so good at the chameleon act.
Lacey dropped her brush and looked at him with large, innocent eyes. “What do you want to do?” she asked huskily.
“You know what I want to do.” He was naked. There was no hiding from her what was on his mind.
“We could play cards.” She dug a deck of cards out of her bag. “I don’t suppose you have a condom?”
Covey perked up. If she was asking about condoms, there must be sex involved in the fantasy they were enacting. “No. Do you?” he drawled, trying not to show his displeasure at the admission of being caught without protection.
His were packed away in his luggage, and he had no fucking idea where his luggage was. When he had attempted to retrieve his bags at the airport, he’d been told they were sent ahead. Ahead where?
A smile ruffled her mouth. “Of course, I do. I just wanted to know if you had any. If you did, I’d know you were the kind of guy who walked around thinking he was going to get lucky all the time.” A satisfied look crossed her face and twinkled in her eyes.
She was obviously enjoying herself, keeping him off guard. Covey didn’t respond. The woman was a minx. He wasn’t going to tell her that any guy worth his cock carried condoms.
All guys walk around thinking that at any moment they’re going to get lucky. He always carried a condom on him. He and Lacey made use of his last one in the limo; he hadn’t had time to replace it. The restrooms at the airport didn’t have them. He tried.
He captured her eyes with his. “So, you think I’m safe, because I don’t carry condoms with me?” If she did, she was incredibly naïve.
Lacey shrugged. “Do you want to play cards?”
He would have preferred, do you want to have sex? “What kind of cards?” He took the deck of cards from her and noticed how careful she was not to let her fingers touch his.
She lowered her thick black lashes and bit her bottom lip. “Well, promise you won’t tell anyone?” Her voice drifted into a hushed whisper and her face clouded with doubt.
He hesitated, gauging her for a moment. Yep, there it was, the tilt to her lips that gave her away. The woman wouldn’t make a good poker player. She had a tick. “Okay. I doubt anyone would believe me if I did,” he replied, indulgently.
Her look of befuddlement caused him to laugh.
She leaned toward him. “I bought this new sex toy online,” she whispered.
Sex toy? Did she bring a vibrator with her to the woods? “You don’t say. That’s an intriguing bit of information. What other dark secrets do you want to share?” Condoms and sex toys, things were looking up.
She shifted on the rug and crossed her legs.
Without warning, his world loss gravity and his heart came out of hiding. She wore no panties to block his view. Just pure, perfect pussy was on display.
How was he expected to keep his heart locked up around a gal who gave him a treat of such magnitude? Men had given their heart away for far less reason. Hell, he just loss all ability for coherent thought.
Unless, you count, ‘I want to eat her,’ as a coherent thought.
He’d never felt so overwhelmed by a woman. “I think I love you,” he blurted. He’d never said those words to a woman he wasn’t related to. He felt the heat crawl up his neck. No woman had ever knocked him off his self-imposed throne where love wasn’t allowed. It didn’t matter to Covey that it was his cock playing with the words coming out of his mouth. This was the first gal who’d ever been able to cause those words to pop out. That was significant.
You could have heard a frog croak in the silence which followed. Sonofabitch. What would she say? Do I really love her? Of course, I don’t.
“It just came today and I brought it with me. It has something to do with a card game,” she said, ignoring his statement as if it’d never been made. “We could play it.”
Okay, it was a dumb thing to say. Sex and love are not the same. He looked her over hotly, thankful she hadn’t made a big deal over his slip. This weekend was about sex. “Do you or don’t you have sex with strangers?” he asked.
She
looked away. “Not as a norm. But, if we were playing a game, I would have to follow the rules. It’s important to follow the rules don’t you think?” Her eyelashes lifted very slowly, and she raised a questioning eyebrow. Her lips tilted slightly upward.
He looked down at his hard cock pushing into his stomach. He touched it and drew her attention there. “I’m beginning to think some rules are good. Let me see the rules.” He reached for them.
She held the rules behind her back, just out of his reach. A challenging smile covered her face.
Covey rose to his knees and gently pushed her onto her back. He placed tiny kisses on her bare neck causing her to giggle. When her arms came up to wrap around his neck, Covey reached down and grabbed the rules from where she dropped them.
“Cheater,” she accused, as she removed her arms and started twirling her hair.
He shrugged. He’d been called far worse. “I do what I have to do to get my way.” He picked the sex toy up out of its container and turned it on. It wasn’t a vibrator. Or a dildo, or any other sex toy he’d ever come across in a woman’s goody drawer.
Lacey leaned forward to touch the toy. “It’s like a mood ring; only it’s for the sexual organs,” she explained.
Covey shook his head in bewilderment. What in the hell is a mood ring? “If you say so.” Were mood rings more expensive than diamond rings?
“See, we would place it on your penis, and then wait to see what color it turns. If it turns pink, it means you’re in the mood for a hand job from your opponent. Red means you want a glossy-lipped blowjob. Green means you get to do whatever you want to the one who’s monitoring the color.”
He sat speechless. A machine that could read a man and woman’s sexual desires? “Anything?” he questioned, thinking of a dozen possibilities all of which ended up with her underneath him. Why in the hell hadn’t he ever heard about this tool? This was a gold mine.
“Yes, but we can’t do green,” her voice rose in alarm on the last word.
“You’re kidding.” She better be kidding.
Lacey didn’t respond.
“Aren’t you?” Green was the best color.
She merely bit her lip and shook her head no.
“And, why is that?” he asked. There was a tilt to her lips so he knew this was fantasy, but he didn’t like this part of the fantasy.
She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “I’m not that sort of lady,” she replied. “I hope you don’t mind,” she finished in a breathless rush of worry. Her big blue eyes pleaded with him to understand.
“What kind of girl would that be? You owe me for saving you,” he reminded her. Playing fair was for pussies. He wasn’t a pussy. He wanted pussy. He would pull out whatever leverage he needed to bed her here beside the river. “If not for me, you could be spending the night on a riverbank. All alone.”
“Yes, and I am most grateful you came along. But, please understand, I can’t do that.”
Grateful? What kind of man wanted gratitude, real or pretend, from a woman when he could be having sex with her instead? “It’s part of the rules we do green if one of us is in the mood. You did say rules were important. You’re not afraid of having an orgasm are you?” He placed the sex toy on his erect penis. The light went through a myriad of colors.
He hadn’t really planned on bringing up the orgasm issue until she felt more comfortable around him. Somehow, it just popped out of his mouth. A lot of things were popping out of his mouth. Things he wouldn’t normally say under severe torture.
She ignored the question and stared at his penis. Her mouth dropped open.
Covey puffed his chest out in pride. She was obviously a gal who had a good eye for a well-endowed man.
He looked down. The contraption had turned pink. Pink! Pink isn’t a manly color. What the hell was it he got with pink? Who would design a sex toy with the color pink for a man? Damn idiot.
“Why would I be afraid of an orgasm?” Lacey removed it from his penis with shaking fingers. They brushed against him in the process.
He forgot what color the toy turned and reached for Lacey. She hadn’t ignored the comment the way she did his declaration of love.
She drew back. “Not yet. There’s more to the game. We draw cards; the person with the highest card gets to have the toy placed between their legs. If you place it between my legs and it turns pink, it means you get to watch while I touch…myself.”
“Like in the canoe?” he asked. He grimaced. Only a dumbass would dump a woman in the water while she was in the middle of masturbating for him. What was he thinking trying to stand up?
“If it turns red, I get a tongue job from you, and if it turns green, well, we won’t do green.”
Her tongue licking him was a visual capable of causing him to pop with no help from her. “A tongue job? Do you mean oral sex?” he teased. He did a few mental multiplication tables to get his desire under control.
Her tongue came out and she licked her bottom lip. “Mmmmm, well, yes. That’s what it would mean.”
“And do you enjoy oral sex?” he asked, and watched a blush run up her neck.
She tilted her head down shyly and looked at him through layered lashes. “I have been known to enjoy it on occasion.”
“I see. Are there any other rules?” Covey asked. This game had some definite possibilities. He would get her to break her own rule of not doing green. No one brings this kind of game out of its box and then refuses to do green.
“There is one additional rule. There’s a timer. Each turn lasts for thirty seconds.”
Covey took the sex ring from her. “Open your legs,” he demanded. The time restraint was going to be a problem. “Thirty seconds isn’t enough time to take care of a woman’s needs,” he said. He preferred all night sex.
Lacey surprised him by lying back on the pallet and spreading her legs. She couldn’t disguise her body’s reaction to his when his fingers traced her soft flesh.
The sight of her, with her legs stretched wide, was ecstasy. He was on the peak of explosion. The multiplications tables weren’t working.
Covey leaned forward and trailed his index finger from her belly button ring to the center of her vagina. He let his palm cup her intimately.
She raised her head up slightly. Astonishment lit up her face. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to see what you are in the mood for.” He placed the toy between her legs with deliberate slowness. The tilt to her lips turned into a full smile.
She laid her head back down and closed her eyes. “What color is it?” she asked. Her hips wriggled underneath the toy.
“Green. You want to have an orgasm.”
Lacey sat up quickly and pushed the toy away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I told you, we can’t do green. Stop talking about orgasms.” Her voice was panicky.
“Why?” That reaction had nothing to do with the role play. The word orgasm had ruffled her feathers.
“Just stop,” she pleaded.
“Are you sure you won’t make an exception just this one time so we could do green.” His fingers dipped between her folds causing her to gasp in surprise.
“That is an outrageous thing you’re doing,” she said. She pushed his hand away. “We didn’t draw cards to see who goes first.”
“You liked it though, didn’t you? I can give you a real orgasm, not a fake one.” Covey held out the deck of cards. “Draw one.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t fake orgasms?” she said hotly. “Do you drink liquor?” she said, not even attempting to hide the fact she was changing the subject.
Covey wasn’t about to back off now. “A drink would be great. I think you fake orgasms?”
“If I do, and it’s a big if, it’s none of your business. I like liquor, but it goes right to my head. I loose my inhibitions, so I have to limit myself to one drink.”
Covey laughed. An uninhibited Lacey would be a sight to see. She was already the most uninhibited woman he’
d ever been around. A drink might help her relax and have an orgasm. “Do you have any beer?” Not that he would take advantage of a drunken woman.
“This is your lucky day. There’s a cooler underneath the blanket.” She pointed to the corner of the tent where a lantern was sitting on the blanket in question. “There’s beer in it. I prefer a White Russian.”
He pulled out the White Russian and handed it to her. “I knew you were one of those girly-drink girls?” He pulled out a beer for himself.
“If by that, you mean I’m a lady. You’re right. I’m certainly not the kind of girl that drinks beer,” Lacey responded, taking a sip.
“Why is that?” He popped the cap and took a swig.
“Because, when I’m not playing a fantasy role, I’m a very classy woman. Don’t you think trashy girls drink beer and classy girls drink mixed drinks?”
“If this is an up-and-up question, and not one of your fantasy induced questions, then my answer is no, I don’t.” Covey patted the spot next to him. “Come here little river rat. Why exactly can’t we do green?”
Lacey scooted next to him. “It’s scandalous. What would you think of a girl who did green?”
He sighed. Her tick was back. “I’d think I’d died and gone to heaven. We did red in the limo.”
She slapped at him. “We most certainly did not. I would never do such a thing, especially in a moving vehicle. Besides, single girls doing red would go straight to hell according to my mother.”
Covey coughed in surprise. “Mmmmm. I think you are exaggerating. I’ve done red before, and I feel confident I’m not going to go to hell for it.”
He pulled her back in his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for sending such a beauty to hell.”
“Thank you for understanding,” she said primly. “Let’s play five questions.”
“Five questions? What happened to the card game?”
“Pleeeeease,” she pleaded, in a full lip pout before taking a sip of her drink.
He couldn’t tell her no. He wanted to tell her no, but he couldn’t. “What are the rules? Is there any sex involved?” He wouldn’t mind learning more about her, as long as sex was involved—soon.