by Pamela Yaye
As Kyra gazed up at him, her body was filled with an unquenchable desire, and for the first time in her life she decided to act on her impulse. Hooking up. That’s what the freshman class called it. One night of explosive sex without strings. She’d never had a one-night stand, but bumping and grinding at Bollito was a powerful aphrodisiac. Mind made up, she reached hungrily for him. They were going to make love tonight, and there was nothing Terrence could say to stop her. “You’re not going to make me beg, are you?”
Blank-faced, he stared down at her, his mouth wide enough to land a commercial airplane. “You’ve had too much to drink, Kyra. This is not you, and I don’t want to do something you’re going to regret in the morning.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.” And to show him just how serious she was, she drew his hands from around her back and placed them on her breasts. Longing to feel more of him, she pushed her hips against him, massaging him with her pelvis. She felt his erection, and her lips drew back into a smirk of triumph. “Do you have protection?”
Terrence couldn’t believe this was happening. He was a spontaneous, go-with-the-flow type of guy, but when Kyra nibbled on his earlobe, he tensed. This wasn’t him. When he saw something he wanted, he went after it. The word no wasn’t part of his vocabulary, but for the first time ever Terrence wasn’t interested in satisfying his carnal pleasures. It didn’t matter that Kyra was grinding on him like a Sean Paul dancer.
He searched for a way to let her down easy. Kyra was guarded with her heart and although he’d been fantasizing about making love to her for weeks, he wasn’t going to take advantage of her. But when she licked the rim of his ear, his heart leaped into his throat and the fevered voices in his brain got louder. Man, what’s the matter with you? You’re Terrence Franklin. An NFL superstar and world-class lover. Hit that! You have a reputation at stake. “Naw, Kyra, I can’t. We—”
Kyra silenced him with a kiss. A kiss so powerful and intense Terrence thought he might black out. His conscience told him to leave, to scoop up his jacket and bolt, but his feet were glued to the floor. Everything about Kyra was hypnotic. Her eyes, her smile, the way she licked her lips. Her touch was light, her lips sweet and when she unzipped his pants and gripped his shaft, a violent shudder racked his body.
In a last-ditch effort to be the upstanding man his mother had raised him to be, he broke off the kiss. Taking a deep breath, he stared up at the ceiling, praying the man upstairs would triple his dose of self-control.
“Let’s get into bed,” she urged, her low, sensual voice saturating his thoughts.
“No, I’m, ah, gonna jet.” Terrence couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “I’ll just go ahead and let myself out.”
He backed into the side table, and let out a curse.
“Terrence, you’re not going anywhere,” she vowed, her moist lips shaped into a delicious pout. “Why don’t you take off your clothes and join me in bed?”
Smiling brazenly, she yanked off her T-shirt and kicked aside her shorts. Blowing out a breath, his heart thumping out of his chest, he rubbed a hand over his head. Terrence didn’t want to look at her nipples, but he couldn’t help himself. Kyra was stacked. Her breasts flowed out of a satin bra, and the little red ribbons on the panties drew his gaze south. She was throwing so much heat his way, he needed a handheld fan.
Hands fashioned to her hips, oozing a righteous, spell-blinding air, she reeked with a sexual confidence that should be bottled and sold. Nothing was sexier than a sister who was proud of her body, and Terrence couldn’t help wondering how and when she’d become such a vivacious woman. Kyra Dixon and Victoria’s Secret lingerie was a match made in heaven and when she took off her bra, he resisted the urge to check his pulse. The sight of her dark, erect nipples made his mouth water. His mouth was so dry he couldn’t talk, and he felt his penis strain against his boxers.
Adrenaline kicked in and lust pulsed through his veins. God had given Kyra wonderful curves and he was dying to caress each and every one. With great effort, he focused his eyes on her face and not on those full, luscious breasts. He started to speak, but she pressed her fingertips to his mouth. “Why are you fighting something we both so desperately want?” Pressing light kisses from the side of his neck up to his ear, she offered words of reassurance. “Nothing’s going to happen that you’re not comfortable with, Terrence. Now just relax and do what comes naturally.”
Terrence frowned. What the hell? That was his line! He felt like the carpet had been pulled out from underneath him, and he didn’t know how much more rubbing, kissing and fondling he could take.
“Desires are nourished by delays,” she explained, yanking his shirt down his shoulders. “The longer you wait for something, the more you want it, and we’ve waited long enough.” Then she planted a kiss on him. It was filled with so much heat, he staggered back like a drunkard.
Terrence lost the battle with his conscience. He was in seventh heaven, riding a pleasure wave, pumped up with endorphins, and higher than a bald eagle soaring in the sky. Breast-obsessed, he cupped them in his hands, and kissed them with reverent affection. Like a potter molding clay, he caressed and stroked her until her entire body was soft to the touch. Kyra had goddess good looks and a body made to worship, but that was not what he found irresistible about her. It was her personality, her spirit, the way she treated everyone around her.
Aroused by the sight of her naked body, he shrugged off his pants and joined her on the bed. Tonight, she’d transformed her wholesome, girl-next-door charm into red-hot allure. Kyra was and always had been the object of his desire, and though he felt the timing was wrong, he had to have her.
Sprawled flat on his back, he waited anxiously for her to rejoin him in bed. She did, and after slipping on the condom, he brought her back into his waiting arms. Powerless against her touch, but determined to do the right thing, he gently cupped her shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes probed her heart, and when she smiled reassuringly at him, Terrence knew there was no need for words.
Terrence buried his face in Kyra’s hair. She smelled like exotic fruit, and he gulped mouthfuls. Lowering his mouth, he used his tongue to outline the rim of her areola. Her breasts were perfect, round and full, her nipples two erect buds. Panting, she parted her legs welcoming him inside. He curved a finger inside her, swirling, thrusting, slipping in and out of her sex. Lifting her hips up off the bed, he used his thumb to arouse her, soaking up her moans of pleasure. Snug, tight inside her, he stirred his penis slowly around her slick walls. Holding her to him in a sensuous embrace, his mouth reached hungrily for her lips. He dropped kisses on her cheeks, neck, shoulder and chest. Every part of their bodies was connected. Like a choir, they moved as one, rousing each other with soft words, fervent kisses and sweet melodies.
A scream tumbled off her lips. Terrence was loving her so deeply, so fully, that she couldn’t think straight. Weakened, Kyra fought through the passion-filled haze. Without a single word, Terrence conveyed his love and desire. His breath tickled her ear, causing bolts of pleasure to spark in her core. And when he hiked her legs in the air and clutched her hips like a life raft, Kyra had the most powerful, most blinding orgasm ever. Terrence climaxed seconds later. They snuggled close and spent the rest of the night talking, laughing and reminiscing over the years they spent at Hollington.
Sex complicated things. It could destroy a perfectly good relationship, so when Kyra woke up the next morning and felt Terrence’s arms around her in a tight, forceps-like grip, she knew there was only one thing she could do: run like hell! But instead of crawling out from under the duvet blanket, she allowed herself another minute of cuddling. Terrence was stuck to her like hinges on a door, and she could feel the heat radiating off his naked body. Enjoying the feel of his hard chest against her back, she closed her eyes and drank in the scent of their lovemaking and the gentle sounds of the early morning.
Memories of last night flooded her mind. It had been damn hard getting Terrence into b
ed, and to close the deal, she’d had to employ everything she’d learned in her Fit to Strip by Carmen Electra class. Something about Terrence brought out the sexy beast in her, and he’d done things with his hands and mouth that made her orgasms out of this world.
They’d barely made it off the sofa love seat when she’d pounced on him like a mountain lion spotting a snow-white rabbit. Kissing him, undressing him and massaging his muscles had whet her appetite for slow, luxurious lovemaking and when he slipped inside of her and lifted her up off the bed, she’d boldly met him thrust for thrust. Now, instead of getting dressed and executing the perfect early-morning getaway, she was lying on her back like a slab of granite, watching him sleep.
Terrence murmured beside her, and her heart sighed with contentment. He was the most passionate, most generous lover she’d ever had. Kyra gently caressed his cheek and noticed he had tiny, flesh-colored bruises along the side of his neck.
Frowning, she leaned forward, studying the marks. “Oh my God!” Kyra clasped a hand over her mouth. Those aren’t bruises. They’re hickeys! A giggle caught in her throat when she remembered how they’d teased and played in bed last night. If Terrence has hickeys on his neck, that means I have some on my…Curiosity tickled her thoughts, but she didn’t have the energy to move. She’d unleashed her inner sex goddess and now had a cramp in her back leg, but she wouldn’t be surprised to see love bites on her inner thigh.
Soft, mellow streams of light flowed through the blinds. Without looking at the alarm clock, Kyra knew it was nine-thirty. Brunch would start in a few hours and she’d promised her mom she’d attend the morning service, so why was she still in bed, rubbing up against Terrence? Because you’re not cut out for love ’em and leave ’em sex.
Deciding her thoughts couldn’t be further from the truth, she reached out and traced a finger along his lips. Allowing herself a moment of quiet reflection, she realized that she was reluctant to leave his side. Terrence had pleased her thoroughly, expertly, and she wanted to stay in his arms for as long as possible. Throwing herself at Terrence wasn’t something Kyra was proud of, but she’d done it, and she didn’t regret anything that happened between them. Contrary to what her single friends thought, making love to a hot, muscled brother trumped an electronic vibrator any day.
Her mouth broke into a rich, decadent smile. Terrence sure knows how to please a woman, she thought, toying playfully with his ear. Most men need a map and a GPS to find the G-spot, but Terrence has more moves than an acrobat! Their kisses were packed with tons of heat, but it had taken time for them to find their sexual rhythm. He preferred a softer, lighter, touch, while she liked the fast, fervent urgency of it all.
His ripped, muscular body was a visual delight, and though they’d only made love once, Kyra understood what made him tick. A caring, sensual lover, he gave new meaning to the word submission. He’d focused on pleasing her, not fulfilling his sexual desires. Terrence delivered plenty of foreplay, and teased and aroused her until she climaxed. His moves on the football field were nothing compared to his expertise in the bedroom, and just looking at him made her wet.
Kyra sighed softly. Everything about him was perfect. His chiseled jaw, the set of his shoulders, his sweet-as-caramel French kisses. They’d graduated from friends to lovers in the span of twenty-four hours, but what now? Making love to Terrence had been an impulsive act, and though they’d used protection, Kyra knew nothing would be able to protect her heart. It was too late to second-guess herself, and moreover, if she’d acted on impulse, then why was she anxious to do it again?
Cursing him and his playboy good looks, she made it up in her mind not to see him again. Terrence was dripping with confidence, stunningly handsome and the most charming man she’d ever met. And every time their eyes collided, she felt something stir within her. Something sensual and erotic and more explosive than the atomic bomb. But that didn’t mean she had to become his plaything. She would call the shots this time around, not him.
Kyra couldn’t stop herself from touching his chest. Too slow to evade the snares of lust, she kissed him slowly, and tenderly, loving the feel of his mouth. She held his face in her palms, then swept her lips over his ear, before returning to his lips and settling into another long, sensual kiss. “Terrence, are you awake?”
“Mmm…” he answered drowsily. “I am now.”
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Like a newborn.” His eyes were half-open, but he was wearing his trademark broad grin. “How are you?”
Her thoughts went blank. The draw of his smile, coupled with his chocolate-brown eyes and full lips, instantly put her in the mood—again. For the first time ever, she’d permitted herself to let go of her emotions, but Kyra didn’t want to make a habit of falling into bed with Terrence. No matter how yummy it was. “I’m a little hung over,” she confessed, with a bashful smile, “but I’ll be all right after I have my morning coffee.”
He smiled. She smiled. Then, their lips came together for a slow, soulful kiss packed with more heat than a blowtorch. Ripples of pleasure zipped down her back, tickling the baby-fine hairs on her neck and the space between her legs. Kyra felt as if she’d lost control of her mind and her body had taken over. She drew closer to him, raised her chin and brushed her fingertips along his jaw. Making love to Terrence had been a total-body experience, one that she was hungry to relive again, but wouldn’t because…because…. Damn it, where was her moral compass when she needed it?
“Are you going to let me take you out to the Hollington brunch?” he asked. “The Grand Hyatt hotel restaurant is my favorite spot, but we can go wherever you’d like.”
Kyra shook her head. “I can’t. I have…a few errands to run before I go to the brunch.” She was lying and though his eyes revealed nothing, she knew he didn’t believe her. But eating together at the most popular restaurant in the city was a bad idea. Needing a moment to sort her thoughts, she turned and faced the window. She felt his chin on her shoulder and giggled. “Cut it out, Terrence. That tickles.”
“You didn’t mind it last night.”
“I was drunk.”
“Right.” He nipped at her ear. “Since you won’t let me take you out, I guess we’ll have to have breakfast here.”
“I don’t have anything in my fridge but—”
“Who said anything about eating?”
Eyes wide, she shot a look over her shoulder. Something stirred within her. Something sensual and naughty and hot. His fingers drew circles on her stomach, arousing her desires and kindling her need. Terrence reached down and touched her wetness. She purred. Sensitive to his touch, she felt tingles radiate from her ears to her toes and back up again. Arching her head back, her mouth ajar, she reached for him, rubbing a hand over his head. They caressed and stroked and massaged until they were clinging to each other.
Kyra heard a packet rip open, and once he was sheathed, turned and ensnared his lips in a kiss. His tongue probed her mouth, urging her, inviting her, taking her to heights and depths she never knew existed. Spoiling his ears, neck and cheeks with kisses, she warmed him with her mouth, and embraced the secret fantasies floating around her head. Focusing on every sensation, she opened her eyes. He looked relaxed. As if he’d just enjoyed a soak in the hot tub.
“Kyra, this is more than just a night,” he told her, raising her chin. “It’s a lot more. And I don’t care what it takes. I’m going to make you mine if it’s the last thing I do.”
Knowing that her voice would betray her, she clamped down on her bottom lip, and listened in awe as words of praise and admiration streamed from his lips. “You’re irresistible, Ky. A masterpiece. The most beautiful work of art…”
Moans of pleasure drowned out his words. He was inside her now, moving in a slow, controlled pace. Last night, their lovemaking had been frenzied, wild, carnal, and though it was what she’d needed at the time, she enjoyed the way he stirred his erection inside her, slow, easy and steady. They’d reached another level of their lovemaking
, and when she stared into his eyes, her heart flitted like a butterfly in the wind. Words escaped her. Pressing her back flat against him, she parted her legs and wrapped his hands around her in a heartwarming embrace.
Alternating between in-and-out thrusts and deep, penetrating circles, he held her close to his chest and swept her damp hair off her neck. He rocked inside her, and when she groaned in his ear, he lost his grip on his self-control.
Chapter 15
The blissful afterglow of good lovemaking stayed with Kyra for the rest of the morning, and when she pulled into the park and spotted Terrence standing outside one of the large white tents, a fresh wave of desire filled her body. He was talking to Kevin and Chloe, and seeing the couple all hugged up, gave Kyra hope that one day she’d have a loving, committed relationship of her own.
Flattening her hands over her pink, scoop-neck blouse, she inhaled the delicious scents carrying on the breeze. Laughter rang out, music played and the festive atmosphere reminded Kyra of the Dixon family reunion in North Carolina last year. Children raced around, teenagers danced and couples were spread out on blankets eating picnic-style. The event was geared toward families of all alumni regardless of graduating year. Chloe had arranged to have face painters, dozens of oversized tents, and a child-friendly menu.
Kyra wanted to talk to Chloe, but since she wasn’t ready to face her one-night stand, she hustled across the field and ducked into the closest tent. She was filling her plate with grits when she caught whiff of a familiar scent.
“I hope you saved some corn bread for me.”
Casting an amused look over her shoulder, Kyra lifted the piece of bread to her mouth and took a hearty bite. “Sorry, this is the last one.”
Terrence took his hand from around his back and there, in his outstretched palm, was a single, yellow daisy. Still holding her gaze, he began to pluck the thin petals from the stem. “She loves me—she loves me not. She loves me—she loves me not.” On he sang until there was only one petal left. “She loves me not?” Terrence clutched a hand over his chest. “How will I ever go on?”