by LJ Vickery
“Wow! Kidnapped? Really? How horrible.” She shivered. “I’ve never faced adversity of that kind, but I admire their strength.” She rose from her seat and grabbed his bowl, walking to the sink and starting to rinse dishes. “So it won’t come as a surprise to you that I love action-adventure movies,” she said over her shoulder.
“Where the female lead takes no prisoners?” he questioned gleefully. He got up and cleared the rest of the table. “I like those, too.”
“Yes.” Her eyes lit up. “I love Underworld, Aliens, Wonder Woman.” She almost glowed. “And, of course, everything Sandra Bullock’s done, including the funny one with Melissa McCarthy—The Heat.”
Wiley furrowed his brows. “I know the first three, but The Heat?”
“Oh, my god!” she exclaimed. “You haven’t seen The Heat?” She turned to him excitedly. “I have it on DVD. We’re so watching it tonight. You’re going to love it.” Solina busied herself at the sink again, washing and stacking dishes in a rack on the counter.
He picked up a nearby dish towel. “No dishwasher?”
She shook her head. “I thought about it, but it’s just me and Ostrich, so I really don’t need one.”
“Makes sense.” He grinned. “By the time I run mine, you can barely open it without being gassed out by the smells festering inside.”
“Gross.” She wrinkled her nose, and damn if it wasn’t cute as hell.
They worked together like perfectly meshed gears, Wiley wiping down the table as she gave a few final swipes to the stove. There might be a lot of “things” in Solina’s house, but everything was spotless. He found that he liked the controlled clutter. It reminded him of his grandmother’s house where she saved everything, and nothing went to waste.
Wiley didn’t have to think hard to put checkmarks in more of Solina’s positive attribute boxes. Smart, fun, sexy, intriguing. And, because he was a typical guy, the last two had him the most excited. Wiley wanted to uncover everything about Beauty, from the secrets she harbored to her luscious body. If he had his way, both would come in time.
They moved into the living room. Solina gracefully sat in front of a cabinet that held DVD’s, while Wiley settled on the couch. He chose a spot toward the middle, so she could either hug an upholstered arm or him. He hoped it was him. She popped in the movie, elegantly rose, and turned, tipping her head in a thoughtful way, as if contemplating his position. Without hesitation, she skirted the coffee table to sit down right next to him, raising his right arm and draping it over her shoulders.
Yes…
Uh, no…
Help?!
His hand lay within inches of one, lush breast. How would he ever be able to concentrate on the movie? Between that and the underlying hint of sage spiraling up from her body, his brain gave up, a lost cause in the battle with his cock for all his red blood cells.
Adding to the Charlie Foxtrot―i.e. clusterfuck―her fingers landed on a tender spot on his leg, halfway between his knee and said hard appendage, which made it extremely difficult to breathe.
“Uh, Solina?” he attempted.
“Yeah, Wiley?” She didn’t turn her head from the TV. He stifled a groan. “Oh, I love this part,” she added, and damned if her hand didn’t inch farther up his thigh.
“Right,” he coughed, concentrating on a particularly devastating squeeze. “I love this part, too.”
“Wait. What?” Now she turned her large, round eyes toward him. “You said you hadn’t seen this movie before.”
He swallowed. “I haven’t, Beauty.” Time to fess up. “And I won’t be seeing any of it unless you stop your hand’s journey up my leg.”
Solina looked down at her hand gripping his upper thigh, but instead of snatching it away, she squeezed again. “You don’t like it?” Her gaze sought his and―dammit all―she licked her lips at the same time.
“I like it too much,” he admitted, his body strung tightly. In a minute, he wouldn’t be responsible for flipping her under him and grinding away at heaven. He tried to snuff the fuse one last time. “You know, I…I didn’t come here to—”
“What did you come here for then?” she interrupted.
“I…” The quote suddenly hit Wiley and he laughed. He couldn’t help it, but it broke the tension. “Seriously, Beauty? It’s a Wonderful Life?”
She nodded. “Yup. It’s almost Christmas. You can’t turn on the TV without seeing it everywhere. And your next line is ‘I don’t know. You tell me,’” she prompted.
“Okay. I’ll bite.” He didn’t know where she was going with this, but it couldn’t be bad. “I don’t know, Solina. You tell me.”
She rolled her eyes. “You weren’t supposed to put my name in there,” she admonished. “But I’ll work with it.” She crawled onto his lap, taking his face between both of her soft hands and, less than an inch from his mouth, whispered, “‘You’re supposed to be the one who has all the answers.’”
“Right.” Wiley nodded almost imperceptibly, off-script again. “And this is where you tell me to go home, right?” His heart beat hard, hoping for a different answer.
“Nope. I’m writing the twenty-first century version where the female lead has the answers and seduces George Bailey.”
Wiley almost swallowed his tongue. “Lucky George,” he said softly, just before her mouth came down on his with passionate intent.
God, yes.
Wiley opened his mouth and let Solina take the lead…for about ten seconds. Not that he didn’t like it, but with her straddling his lap, he couldn’t get the leverage he wanted to deepen the kiss…or unfold his dick from one hell of a cramped position underneath her ass. He executed the flip that had been on his mind minutes earlier, pinning her beneath him while, at the same time, grabbing his crotch to reposition his cock.
He growled. “There. Now we’re good.” He lowered his head, making Solina purr.
Purr…?
Fucking hell. Not now.
He looked up. Sure enough, Solina’s cat stared at him, unblinkingly, from the arm of the couch, close enough that his fur brushed Wiley’s hair.
“Argh. Damn.” He leaped up, dancing away. “Nope. Not happening.”
Solina lay, stunned…until Ostrich butted her head. “Oh.” Her eyes popped wide, a complete one-eighty from the sated half-mast they’d just been in, and she burst into laughter. Not just any laughter, either, but uproarious, gut-clenching howls. Wiley didn’t know whether to be hurt or amused at the fact she came out of his seductive spell so quickly, but figured he’d go with the flow.
The cat had taken off the minute Solina’s hilarity hit, so Wiley felt safe enough to pounce, hoping he acted more like a tiger than a pussy. He growled and hissed against her neck, then dropped lower to purr against her fully clothed, but peaked nipples before rubbing his cheek roughly against them to harden the lovely nubs even further. Her giggles quickly turned to moans as she attempted to capture his head to hold him against her chest, but Wiley had different ideas.
He continued his mock snarls across her belly, then lower, until his lips teased the apex of her thighs. She parted her legs on a cry, giving him room.
God, he loved spandex. Seeing as there had been no panty line when he’d ogled her ass earlier, he knew not much else lay between him and paradise. Now, his mouth moving over her pubic mound, he felt the soft give of her sweet curls, could almost taste the heady warmth between her thighs.
She ground against his face, and he wrapped his hands under her ass to lift her close. Her fingers wound into his hair, tugging, her nails digging into his scalp. And he fucking loved it. She rose up again and again. He matched her rhythm, knowing she was coming close. And it blew him away. He hadn’t given any partner an orgasm―fully clothed―since a make-out session in the back of the bus in high school. And, Jesus Christ, he didn’t remember it being nearly as hot as this. His own erection strained behind his zipper, trying for maximum friction on the arm of the couch. He’d make a mess in the only pair of pants he had
with him if he didn’t finish her off right now.
Keeping his mouth glued to her pussy, he reached up with both hands and found her distended nipples through her shirt. Okay. On the count of three. One, two… He bit down where he hoped her clit would be, pinching her nipples at the exact same time. Hooah!
He knew he hit the spot because Beauty cried out, her thighs clasped around his ears, and he felt her pussy clenching and unclenching, looking for something to grab onto. He plunged his tongue as deeply as he could against the barrier, hoping it did the trick. Judging by her final thrust, it did.
Minutes later, his head resting on her abdomen, her heart rate slowed to normal. He wondered if she’d speak first, or if he should break the silence that had descended like a warm, viscous blanket.
“Wiley?” Her soft query dissolved the quiet.
He smiled, hoping she’d hear it in his voice. “Yes, Beauty?”
“That was pretty awesome.”
“Glad you liked it,” he preened.
“But it’s not all I want to do tonight.”
Warning bells and bright lights came to life in his head.
“Can we move into the bedroom? I promise to lock Ostrich out,” she teased lightly, a final tremor passing through her.
And just like that, it was on Wiley’s shoulders. And he was one conflicted bastard after having had a tantalizing taste of all she had to offer.
Should they head to her bedroom where he’d find bliss between her legs―something Solina obviously wanted? Or should he maintain the course he’d previously set and let their relationship grow before throwing sex into the mix? Option A meant he wouldn’t need to deal with blue balls for the entire time they were apart over Christmas, but option B would build anticipation and make their coming together so much sweeter.
Which to choose?
Chapter Thirteen
The minute the words left her mouth, Solina knew Wiley wouldn’t do it. Leave it to her to hook up with one of the only men on earth who would refuse easy, no-strings sex. Which, of course, was probably what drew her to him in the first place—his old-school values and an undeniable, empathetic chivalry.
And the other truth? Wiley backing off was her own fault. She’d played it cool…until he’d turned her to mush. Then the first thing out of her mouth after an amazing orgasm was a proposition. Well, not quite. She’d complimented him first―for which he’d looked pretty pumped―then offered herself up.
Smooth, Solina.
She decided to beat him to the punch so his rejection wouldn’t hurt so much. “Not jumping all over that, are you? So I guess that means you’re not staying.” Solina attempted to remain matter-of-fact.
He rolled to the floor, wedging his large body between the sofa and coffee table, and looked up at her thoughtfully. “What we did was a nice start to becoming more intimately acquainted,” he teased, wiggling his shoulders to make more room. “But I can’t stay because, beyond that, I can’t be trusted tonight.”
She turned to her stomach, her eyes moving from his chiseled face down to the front of his jeans, where a bulge still prowled. It was that part of him she remained most anxious to explore. Solina tried to talk him into going against his conscience.
“We don’t have to, like, go all the way. I could just unzip you and return the favor.” She let her tongue play over her lips in the way she’d seen ladies act on TV. It always seemed to work for them. Not that she had any idea what she’d do with his penis if he gave in and she took possession. In college, she’d played around with a few of her dates’ crotches over their clothes, even being bold enough once to slip her hand inside, but she’d never done anything except tentative groping. Unfortunately, her cinematic curiosity had never gone so far as porn.
Note to self. Do pay-per-view at the next available opportunity.
“Not going to happen.” Wiley smirked. “If you let that little guy out, he’ll have a mind of his own and you’ll be underneath me in a heartbeat. Here’s some good advice, Solina. Never trust a rampant dick.”
“Noted.” She giggled, bringing her gaze up to his smiling face. She was disappointed, but as her libido started to cool, she reconsidered her request. Maybe it was for the best. She still hadn’t clued Wiley in to the fact of her virginity. A big omission. But once he knew, would it make him more or less apt to have sex with her?
She huffed and rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. There was only one way to find out. But how to start? There was no manual for this. “Uh, Wiley?”
She was glad he stayed on the floor where she wouldn’t have to look at his face.
“Yes, Solina?” He must have heard the uneasiness in her voice because his lost its joking quality.
“If I told you something about myself and you didn’t like it, would it make you go away and never come back?”
A long silence ensued. Even without knowing Wiley very well, she understood he was making every effort to formulate a response that wouldn’t commit him one way or the other, but also wouldn’t make him sound like a jerk. She waited.
“Are there dead bodies in your basement, Solina?” His wry humor broadsided her and made her chuckle.
“No dead bodies, Wiley.” She played his game. It gave her more time before she confessed her naïveté.
“Do you sell dogs on the black market in exchange for cats?”
She snorted. “Just to let you know, Wiley, I’m not just a cat person. I like dogs, too.”
“So that would be a no?”
She blew an errant hair out of her face. “Correct. That would be a no.”
“Good. One last question. Does this have anything to do with your anxiety over my lack of things and your abundance of things?”
Shit. He’d at least figured out she had a secret that lay in that direction. He was damned proficient at his job, but he wasn’t getting that one out of her. Not now. Good thing she could honestly tell him her current paranoia was not about that.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Too bad.” He exhaled loudly. “I really want to know what’s up with that. But I won’t push. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me. Right?”
“Possibly,” she prevaricated. No way in hell she could make that promise. If he turned out to be a one-and-done, there’d be no reason to freak him out with her dirty secret because he wouldn’t be part of her life. If Wiley stuck around, however, and became something more, which she was beginning to think might be a pretty good possibility, she’d have to man-up or risk losing him if she had an “episode” and freaked out without giving him prior knowledge.
“Okay,” he conceded. “I’m out of ideas. So, to answer your initial question, I’m not going anywhere. Now, what is it I might not like?”
Her opening appeared, and she dove in.
“I, um, well…” She couldn’t get the words past the suddenly dry cavity of her mouth.
“Beauty,” he sighed. “I like you…a lot. Seriously, there’s not much you can say that would make me turn tail. It’s not in my nature.”
“Fine.” She had to believe him. He’d been nothing but honest with her so far. Solina took a huge breath and blew it out. “I’m still a virgin.”
Silence. Then his voice came out low and―if she wasn’t mistaken―angry. “And you thought to tell me now? After angling to get me into your bed?” He sat up and glared daggers at her. “What if I’d said yes? What if I started to fuck you and your little secret made itself known…in a really bad, can’t-take-it-back kind of way?” He pinched his lips together and his nostrils flared.
Dammit. She’d royally screwed this one up. His use of the word “fuck” told her that. He wanted to shock her, but instead, his profanity made her sad because she’d probably never know how getting fucked felt.
She deflated. “I would have told you before we did anything,” she attempted to console. “It just might have been closer to the actual…time of entry.”
He didn’t even crack a smile.
“But th
at’s all moot now.” She sat up, avoiding his eyes, his mouth, and his compressed lips. “Because you’ll be leaving.” Her shoulders dropped. “I’ll see you out.”
She started to rise, but his hand snaked out and grabbed her arm, hauling her back down to face him. “You’ll see me out?” he hissed. “Like, that’s it? We’re done? Didn’t I tell you no matter what you said, I wouldn’t leave?”
“Well, you don’t look very happy,” she dared, rubbing her arm when he abruptly let her go. “And I’ve obviously handled this all wrong.” But what did she know? Virginity didn’t come with directions, and she hadn’t acted willfully.
Ire began to bubble up, and it felt good. “Tell me, Wiley. When exactly would have been the right time do a reveal? Huh? In front of that police officer? At the auction? Maybe I should have said something like, ‘Oh, hello. Don’t you just love that industrial-size mixer? By the way, I’m a twenty-eight-year-old virgin.’”
Wiley’s mouth fell open and his eyes lost a little of their wariness. “No, but maybe at my apartment when you tried to entice me into staying in the guest room with you.” His tone hadn’t entirely lost its edge, which pissed Solina off even more.
“I would have told you then, Mr. Perfect-At-Everything-You-Do, but you didn’t exactly take me up on my offer, did you?!” she yelled. “And what do you think would have been more pathetic? The fact I practically begged you to have sex with me, or if, at that crucial juncture, I’d thought to use my intact hymen as a lure?” She laughed with an edge of hysteria. “Of course, I guess that’s what you’ll accuse me of doing tonight. You didn’t accept my first offer, so I incentivized. ‘Come one. Come all. Deflower the sacrificial virgin,’” she cried in her best carnival barker voice. “But instead of jumping my bones, you became affronted. Well, I’m sorry my virginity offends you.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared.
“Wait a minute,” Wiley backpedaled. “You know it’s not like that.” He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, the cleft on his chin becoming more pronounced as he gave the situation some thought. “I suppose I’m mad because I just feel kind of…used,” he admitted darkly.