"Yes, baby." She rolled her eyes, but smiled back. "We're getting down to the wire. You'd better hurry."
"One thing, Share, are you all right with this? I don't want you to be uncomfortable." After all, he got her on the rebound from Hank. A pink flush grew from her breasts up her neck. Her lips parted, and he saw a flash of embarrassment in her eyes. He really wanted her to be all right and held his breath at his need for her to be okay with this wedding.
She gazed back at him, her deep blue eyes intensely calm and serious. "I'm just fine with the way things turned out, Pete."
"Me too." Relieved, he angled his head to brush his lips over her shoulder and nip at her neck.
"Hey, do not be leaving any hickeys on me, sweetheart!" She giggled and scrambled away. "Not to mention, I don't want any wet spots on the back of my dress."
"Baby, if there are any, it's your fault." He gazed down the length of his body to his cock, already jutting out, a small drop of pearly liquid oozing on the crest. Without raising his head, he watched her watch him. Her breasts rose and fell roughly, and a flush of arousal tinted her cheeks.
God, she'll outshine the bride in that dress. The dark, icy blue color set off her pale skin and dark hair. He loved it when she wore her hair loose and full around her face and shoulders. She was so hot. And sweet. Beautiful, with a combination of shy sensuality. He held his breath, ground his back teeth, and tried to quick freeze his libido. Hank and Nickie. We're here for their wedding. Focus on that.
Chapter Eleven
After the rehearsal and dinner, the boys and girls separated. Nickie's sister was an actress in the Chicago theater scene and knew all the hot drinking and dancing spots. Bobbie took them to a specialized bar and introduced Sharon to chocolate martinis.
By the time she got back to the penthouse, she felt extremely buzzed, her joints relaxed, her libido shrieking. The place was so amazing and glamorous. Pete wasn't in yet, so she prowled around the living room, glancing out the French doors at the skyline. Wouldn't making love on the terrace in the summer be awesome? Wandering into the bedroom, she grazed her fingertips over the luxurious bedding, noticing a maid had neatened the bed and nestled a tray of chocolates and fruit in front of the pillows. It was much more than the wrapped mints at lesser hotels.
The bathroom was now clean, too. A basket of scented soaps and oils sat prominently on the counter, thick candles in dishes with matches at the ready. The scene was set for heavy seduction.
However, if he didn't get back soon, he'd lose his window of sexual opportunity. She'd be dead asleep. She draped her dress over a chair, planning to lie down on the comfy chaise longue, pull the afghan over her, and just close her eyes for a minute.
***
"Oh, shit. Share, are you here?"
Dreaming. A thunderous sound jolted her awake, like a bull tearing through the sophisticated penthouse space.
"Share, where are you?"
She groaned a greeting. At least she thought she did. In her dream she did. For some reason her eyes wouldn't open, thanks to numerous chocolate martinis. He'd never be able to find her if she couldn't open her eyes.
"Honey? Sweetie? Are you awake?"
His voice, the deep, sexy timbre of his voice, crawled arousingly through her. Her weak and relaxed limbs belied the tension spreading through her breasts, and she moaned at the rhythmic fluttering pulse of her clit. His big body hovered over her. She turned her head, and, without opening her eyes, mumbled, "Didja have a good time?"
"Oh, baby, yeah." His voice was all low and husky.
She wrinkled up her nose. "Uh. Stinky cigar." Feebly lifting her hand off her stomach, she waved it in his direction. "So sleepy, baby," she murmured.
"Shit, yur sleepin'. Little Willie's gotta go to bed lonely?"
"Unh, yeah." She drifted off again.
***
Crap. Light. Pete slit open one eye and immediately saw the person he wanted to wake up with forever. She lay on her stomach, face turned toward him, dark hair in wild disarray around her head. She was snoring. So cute. Little, dainty sounds, but still snoring. He rolled toward her and pressed his lips to her shoulder. Nudging aside the sheet, he encountered her back. Hallelujah, bare, bare, bare.
Heart pounding and instantly awake. At least he was. He groaned at the peremptory, thick beat of the blood in his cock when he pushed the sheet down past her ass. Oh, bonus. Her beautiful round ass in a hot little thong. Coming up on hands and knees, he straddled her thighs while licking and nibbling down her spine. He admired the contrast of his heavy, dusky, engorged morning cock poised over her soft, white cheeks. Oh, man. He rubbed its head, smoothing the moist, sensitive crest across her velvety skin, down the tempting, mysterious line. Dark thoughts churned. Delicately, he slipped his forefinger underneath the elastic band lying over the little dimples right above the curve of her ass. Traced it. Pulled it. Watched it pull out of her crack. He groaned. His hips surged, his brain clamored with a message of fuck her now.
She squirmed and moaned, coming awake, fingers fisting in the sheets. He could tell the second she became aware of him. Aware of him hovering over her like a blanket.
"Little Willie?" she murmured sleepily, obviously not up to brilliant conversation yet.
Didn't matter, neither was he. He licked his suddenly dry lips. "Yeah, Little Willie's hurtin'," he said in husky, pseudo despair. "He needs some soothin'."
"What exactly does LW want?" she murmured, sweet as honey.
They'd played the LW game almost from the beginning. Little Willie was definitely not little. Especially right now. LW wanted desperately, needed desperately to slide into her. He lowered his chest to drape his body over hers, to envelope her in his searing heat and drifted every little word sensually and sizzlingly into her ear, "Baby, LW wants what he always wants—your hot, luscious, sweet pussy." He traced a path with his fingertips over her shoulders, down her spine to her waist. Hands around her waist, he yanked her ass up in the air, leaned forward, and filled his palms with her breasts.
She wriggled, her delicious body ecstasy in his arms.
"But, first, we gotta get you nekked." He tugged. Together, they wrestled her out of the thong. His heart and dick expanded in tandem. The woman had the body of a goddess, and now the goddess that was Sharon Timmons was bare-assed naked and shifting restlessly beneath him, trying to turn over.
"No, baby, I want you this way." He pressed his palm firmly in the small of her back.
She stilled. "Pete?"
"S'okay, sweetheart." He reached around her waist to slide two fingers over her pussy lips and capture her clit.
She whimpered, arching her butt into grinding contact with his dick.
He sat back on his heels, pulling her up onto his thighs. One hand continued fondling her cleft. The other cupped a breast and stroked gently, circling her nipple without touching the tip.
"Yes," she moaned, rolling her head back and forth on his shoulder.
He pinched, relentlessly increasing the pressure.
"Oh God, more," she pleaded. "Harder."
"You're not the boss'a me," he whispered into her ear, as he did what she asked anyway.
"Yesss."
"Do you want Little Willie, baby?"
"Big," she huffed. "I want Big Willie." Her body writhed continuously against his chest, working her butt into his groin.
"Where?" It was becoming harder to talk, even in a husky whisper. Nestled between her ass cheeks, his cock throbbed. If he didn't fuck her soon, he'd die. Die a horrible, painful death. "Where do you want him, baby?" he groaned the words.
"Inside me," she sobbed. "In my pussy. Oh, God, Pete, fuck me nowww."
He pushed her forward again, shoulders flat to the bed, ass tilted up. Roughly spreading her thighs with his, he knelt between them and found her silky, slippery hole. Sliding a finger in, he hissed in a breath at the smooth, slick, hot interior of her cunt. Withdrawing, he caressed her clit.
She pressed her face into the pillow and
wrapped her hands around the nape of her neck. With long, low, and agonizingly sexy moans and wiggles, she thrust and ground her ass against him. "Baby, please."
"Okay, okay," he growled. He pulled back and squeezed his cock inside her, one slow inch at a time. For about two heartbeats. Then, all sense of self-control failed. He rammed himself in, hard, threw his head back, and shouted. He stilled, cock buried deeply. Back arched. Eyes closed. He gripped her hips, holding her in place.
"Pete," she moaned.
She cried out, low and guttural. What was left of his rational mind, snapped. "Share," he groaned. Dropping over her back, caging her in with hands braced next to her shoulders, he withdrew. And thrust. Pumped back into her. Tried to fill his lungs with air. Felt her taut around his prick, felt the searing, rhythmic pressure of her deep within his soul. Felt her heartbeat in the flesh of her tight cunt.
She grunted.
He grunted. The flutters of her interior muscles squeezed and massaged him, which only made him wilder. He continued in his frenzied bucking and thrusting until scorching heat hammered his balls, and his release exploded in a convulsive, rip-roaring orgasm.
"Jesus, baby," he gasped, "You can be the boss of me." Crashing to his side, pulling her with him, he clamped his arm heavily around her waist. Her skin was pink with arousal, and a fine perspiration coated her body. God, she's one exceptional woman.
***
After dozing and more loving, Sharon was glad Pete ordered a room service breakfast. Here they were in this absolutely fabulous penthouse suite, and they'd hardly left the bedroom. At least now, a table was set up in the living room before the French doors leading to the terrace. A cold wind shook the leaves of the trees outside on that lovely balcony and rattled the panes of glass, but they were toasty warm inside, all wrapped up in the thick terry cloth hotel robes.
"Remember that first night?" he asked as he forked a large bite of omelet into his mouth.
"You mean at Nook's?" A pang like a shard of ice settled in her stomach. Why would he bring that up now?
"Yeah."
She stared at her plate. That was the night Hank ditched her for Nickie. She'd been shocked and devastated. But even better, it was also the night she'd first danced with Pete and the first time he kissed her. Glancing at him now, she didn't know if he was reminding her of the bad part or the good part, but his golden gaze warmed her from the heart to the tips of her fingers and toes.
"I was just thinking about the crazy way things happened that night."
"Yeah, it was uncomfortable to say the least," she murmured.
"I'm glad Hank left when he did. He did me a favor."
She couldn't help but quirk her lips in a smile. As painful as it had been to have Hank walk out on her, she'd ultimately gotten the better bargain in Pete. He was so handsome, tall and thickly muscled to her soft, petite femininity. Even his morning stubble was gorgeous, actually sparkling in the rays from sunrise over Lake Michigan.
He rose from the table and strode over to the stereo housed in the media armoire. "I brought some CDs." He turned on the system and pressed play. "Come on." He held out his hand to her. "Dance with me, Share?"
She bit the corner of her lower lip. That's what he'd said that night. She remembered it clearly. He'd raised a hand to her hair and twisted his finger into the curls around her ear, then brushed his knuckle across her cheek, tickling her with the strand of hair.
This time, he just pulled her close, tugging her into contact with his body, twining his arms around her waist. The thick robes and heavy knots of the ties pressed into her stomach. Or was that his penis? She slid her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest, sighing with happiness. He was a man who knew how to hug. His long, muscled arms sheltered her, as they had that night. It had been the start. Of something good, as the saying goes.
Her heart had still been pounding in the embarrassment of the whole bar witnessing her humiliation. His dancing, or rather swaying back and forth, shuffling his feet from side to side, went a long way to start her healing. Now she considered herself completely recovered, with Pete Rayne the doctor who cured her.
"But you just danced with me to make me feel better." Forget about all that old stuff. You're in the here and now, and you're the happiest you've ever been. She raised her face to find him smiling down at her.
He tightened his arms. "Maybe I wanted me to feel better. I don't think I realized until I took you in my arms how much I'd wanted you there."
"You hardly ever talked to me the whole time I was with Hank."
"That doesn't mean I never noticed you." His husky, heated words enticed her. He circled her ear with his fingers and then wrapped them around to cup her head. "But you were my buddy's girlfriend. Off limits."
She shimmied uncontrollably. Leaning her head back, eyes closed, she just enjoyed his light massaging of her scalp.
"You wore a short skirt and a tank top that night. I was desperate to find out what was underneath."
"You were?" She was almost insensate with the sensuousness of his hands in her hair, stroking her head. She loved that.
"Yeah." He lightly brushed his lips over hers, peppering little butterfly kisses along her jaw. "And the next night you had on that long, tight black dress. I could see every curve. I was really ready to…well, you know." He gave a pained snort.
"Find out what was underneath?" she teased and giggled when he gently bit her on the side of her neck, where it met her shoulder. She even enjoyed the scrape of his morning whiskers across her tender skin.
"Yeah, and I love your hair down, lying over your shoulders." He traced the strands. "You know, these robes are too thick, and the knots are jabbing. I wanna feel your skin." He slid warm fingers under her robe, pressing in insistent little circles over her satiny shoulders.
She responded by trailing kisses up the center of his chest. Leaning back in his arms, she tugged at the tie. When it loosened, she parted the lapels of his robe and swept her hands across his chest, following them with more kisses over his hard pecs. Little whimpering sounds escaped her throat.
He shuddered. His deep groan reverberated through the muscle and skin of his chest. That shudder aroused her, almost more than anything else. To know how deeply she affected him by her lovemaking was an aphrodisiac. As if she needed one with him.
"I love looking at you," she murmured, dragging her fingers down, sweeping the front of the robe completely open. Looking at his magnificent body was a pleasure. The furrow down the middle of his chest, the firm, rounded ridges of muscle on either side. "Even your tummy button is hot. Cute. A cute little innie for such a big guy." She wiggled her thumb in the hollow and sneaked a peek up at him.
His narrowed gaze seemed to watch her hands. His lashes fluttered, his fingers pressing harder. "Yeah, baby…"
"And here's the pièce de résistance." His belly quivered under her hands. The space below his navel, long and flat, led to the sweet, soft darker hair at his groin. That was where the magic began. She grasped his cock with both hands, earning another deep groan and a pump of his hips.
"I love looking at you too, baby." His voice was an unsteady whisper. He tugged her robe open and did her one better, brushing it off her shoulders. It didn't hit the floor. It hung up on the crooks of her arms, because she wouldn't give up her prize—his penis.
He pulled her against him. Her breasts flattened. She shimmied, abrading her nipples on his chest hair, feeling their hard little points poke his muscles. His cock filled her hands. She opened them and palmed him tightly, rolling him back and forth on her belly. The slit at the crest weeping, a drop of semen perched there.
She brushed her thumb over it, felt his cock harden and thicken. "Oh, baby, baby," she moaned.
"All right, that's it," he groaned. He lifted her off her feet, carrying her to the couch. He bounced in a flurry of thick, white cotton to a sitting position on the sofa. Expertly, he maneuvered her to straddle his thighs, his hands around her waist.
&n
bsp; "Mmm, I like this," she giggled. Both robes completely open, she looked down at herself, shuddering at the sexy sight of her round breasts, their dark nipples arrayed before him. She made it an offering. "Pete," she moaned, cupping her breast. "Suck my nipples." She hunched her shoulders in anticipation of the pleasure. "Please." They ached for the lovely, sweet, wet suckle of his lips.
"Come here, sweetheart." Hands under her arms, he urged her up his body so her breasts were lip level and suckled her nipple into his mouth.
Her heart stopped. His eyes closed in concentration, his strong features softened. The draw of his mouth, the swipe of his tongue, the nip of his teeth on the tip made her tremble, made her clit flutter and throb with each heartbeat. She grasped his penis, positioned it right, and took it, just the tip of it, inside her vagina. "Pete, Pete. My God," her whimper matched his growl, which vibrated from his mouth across the skin of her breast. That first feel of stretching, of opening her body for him, was glorious. Her thighs quivered, her eyes fluttered shut. She didn't know how long she could hold herself up like this when all she wanted was to sink down and bury his cock deep inside.
"Jesus, baby, you're killing me." He dropped his head to the back of the couch. "God, that feels good." He pulsed, filling her a little more. More deeply and thickly.
Right now. She needed him right now. No more teasing. No more playing. "Fuck me, Pete," she whispered into his ear, her teeth gritted, and voice hoarse with passion. The next second, she was on the floor, on her back, his cock hard inside her. At the same moment, he took her lips, ate at them with big wet swipes of his tongue, thrusting it in partnership with the thrusts of his cock.
He pushed her hard with his hips, nudged hers up higher so he could go deeper. She locked her legs around his waist, arms around his neck to hang on. He thrust and fucked. Fierce grunts sounded like they came all the way from his gut, intensifying her excitement until her shouts matched his bellows. Her vaginal walls contracted. How she could feel the delicate pulsations along with his pounding cock, she didn't know. Insane with her need, she twisted her body to take every inch of him.
The Keeper Page 6