by A. C. Arthur
He felt it, though, along with the rush of warmth throughout his body as he continued watching the scene. The actress licked her lips, the same way Des had done last night when she’d been standing in his room staring down at his dick. After Des had done that, she’d been on her knees, taking him into her mouth, and he’d been certain he’d died and gone straight to heaven. When the actor on-screen touched the pad of his finger to her tongue and the woman proceeded to lick around the digit, Maurice sucked in a breath. A glance over at Des and he could see her tongue stroking her bottom lip.
It took a few seconds for him to calm himself enough to not roll on top of her—they were in a room full of people, after all. The Dear Lover staff were crafty and very good at creating a sexually charged atmosphere, he’d give them that. But what was he supposed to do now?
Des had brought up the issue of Kelli telling the media about them being there together. If that were the case, or if anyone decided to phone in an anonymous tip, him reaching over to touch Des would possibly give more ammunition. Then again, it was pretty dark in this room and they were sitting in a semi-secluded spot. Before he could ruminate on it any further, Des’s hand moved from where she’d had it resting in her lap up, until it brushed over her breast. The nipple was already hard, and Maurice cursed before extending his hand to touch it.
She jumped when he touched her and then their gazes locked. “Tell me to stop.” It was a plea, and he wondered if he should follow that up by giving her a safe word like the guy on-screen had done. “Please, just say the word.”
Otherwise he was going to continue to circle his finger around her nipple.
Her lips parted, and she inhaled deeply, releasing the breath slowly before blinking. “It feels good.”
That didn’t sound like stop to him, and in the next instant he palmed her breast, squeezing it in his hand until her head fell back against the beanbag. A tiny gasp escaped through her lips.
His gaze was now focused on her breasts, the one he held in his hand and the other that had a pebbled nipple, as well. She had great-sized breasts, a little more than a handful, high and perfect for suckling. If he closed his eyes right now, he’d see them in his mind—delectable mounds with big dark nipples that beckoned him. Reaching his other hand out, he cupped them both, kneading them until the top of her pajamas began to slide open. He already knew she wasn’t wearing a bra, and he wanted to curse his phenomenal luck.
“More?” Asking for permission was a must every step of the way in this precarious situation. There was no plan for what he was doing. He was just following his body’s reaction to her, trusting that hers would respond.
“Yes.” It was a faint whisper, but he’d heard it and he dipped his head. With his chin he eased the material to the side until he could put his mouth on her bare mound.
Was he really doing this? Right here and right now? The answer was a resounding yes.
And from the sounds of moaning coming from the screen, and some he was certain from right in this room, he wasn’t the only one. In all his life he’d never imagined himself doing something like this, never even considered that he might be into an orgy-type scenario, but this was making him hot as hell!
When she slapped a hand to the back of his head, holding his mouth over her breast, he moaned. His dick was so hard, tenting his shorts as it ached to get inside her.
“Can’t believe this,” she murmured. “Can’t stop. Feels so good.”
Yeah, he couldn’t speak right now because he’d moved to the next breast, but she was absolutely right, it did feel damn good. And he didn’t want to stop.
He did, though, at least after a few more moments of sucking on the tautest nipples he’d ever tasted. Lifting his head, Maurice eased over so that his body was just about on top of hers. He cupped her cheek, turning her face into his, and touched his lips to hers. Their tongues instantly dueled as if they’d each been waiting for this exact moment. Again, her hand was on the back of his head, holding him in the position she wanted him.
It was an aggressive move, a dominant act, and lust soared through his bloodstream like a drug. Kissing Des was unlike kissing any other woman he’d ever met. Her lips were so sweet, her tongue so masterful as it stroked his until drops of pre-cum seeped from his dick. He needed to be inside her right now.
“Des,” he whispered when he was able to pull back a few inches from her mouth, “we gotta...”
“Yes,” she moaned and then pulled him down for another kiss.
This time there was a fevered pitch to the way their tongues moved. She sucked his deep into her mouth, and he moved his hands to bury them in her hair. He was going to climb on top of her and fuck her right here in this room with this damn movie playing and at least twenty other couples watching.
That was an insane idea. No way could he let it go that far. He had to stop. They had to get out of here.
Calling on every ounce of control he possessed, Maurice pulled his mouth away from hers. She didn’t try to hold him still; instead she dropped her hands to her side as if touching him had somehow injured them.
“We can’t do this here,” he said, his whisper husky with desire.
She licked her lips again and nodded. “I know.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Yeah,” she replied and cleared her throat. “Now.”
* * *
“I need to feel you.”
Desta could hear the urgency in his voice. She felt it in the moment they were in the elevator alone and he pushed her against the wall of the car. His lips were on hers again, and she couldn’t think about anything else but falling into the kiss. She’d been trying to reconcile this madness in her mind since last night. How was it that they’d gone from friends and coworkers to insatiable lovers in such a short span of time?
The answer was his hand slipping beneath the band of her pajama pants, going farther, past her panties, until she could feel his fingers pressing against her mound.
“Just gotta touch you.” His words came on pants for air that they were both taking between the heated kisses.
Desire surged through her like a raging storm, making her feel as if her heart might leap right out of her chest it beat so fast. She was limp against the wall, held up by the arm he’d wrapped securely around her waist. When his fingers inched lower, parting her, sliding easily inside her, she gasped. Her head fell against the wall, back arched, eyes closed.
“Maurice.” His name was a whisper. A breath she had to breathe in the midst of this tumultuous wanting.
Two fingers—she was almost positive that’s how many he used—pressed inside her, and she clenched her teeth so hard flashes of light sparked behind her still-closed eyes. He didn’t give her a second to acclimate herself to the feel of him stretching her but instead began pumping his fingers quickly in and out, while his lips fastened over her neck.
Desta held him tightly, her low-cut nails digging into his back through the T-shirt he wore. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around him.
“Hell yeah. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” His words tumbled over her as he thrust faster and deeper now that she’d given him even more access.
Her hips moved now, meeting his thrusts and silently begging him for more. How could this feel so good? It wasn’t his dick penetrating her and yet the feeling was almost as intense as if it were. Her body was taut with anticipation, her nipples so hard she wanted to reach up and rub them herself.
“Need you to come for me. Right now, just please come.”
She’d never been begged to come before. On a few occasions she’d pleaded with her body to simply cooperate so that things would go smoother, but she knew that didn’t count.
Her eyes fluttered open as she panted. “Please don’t stop. Please. Just. Wait.” Pleasure ripped through her so fast and so intensely that it rendered her speechless.
Mauri
ce moaned, holding her even tighter, his fingers slowing inside of her but not stopping.
The elevator, however, did stop on their floor at that moment. A light dinging sound told them the doors were about to open, and Maurice hurriedly pulled his hands from her. She let her leg slide down and was ready to walk out of the car as soon as the doors slid apart. He followed her off, grabbing her by the hand.
“Hurry” was all he said as he continued in the direction of his room.
She stopped, shaking her head when he turned to look at her quizzically.
“My room tonight.” She didn’t say anything else but turned to walk in the opposite direction. He would follow her; she knew without having to turn around and check.
Her fingers shook a little as she found her key card in the side pocket of her pajama pants and walked into the suite. The door had barely closed before Maurice was grabbing her and pushing her back up against it. He blinked quickly, a look of shock or maybe apology on his face.
“It’s okay, I can take a little roughness.” In fact, she liked it. Even though she hadn’t before and had sworn she’d never allow it from another man again. But this was different. There was no anger, no need to scare or intimidate. No, this, with Maurice, was pure desire. It was mutual, and rising so fast and potent between the two of them she reveled in the rush of anticipation.
A hungry groan was how she’d best describe the sound coming from him just before he ordered, “Off!” Meaning her pajamas, she surmised by the way he pushed the top of the pajama set off her shoulders. She remembered the belt and tore at that until it was loose. That piece of silk hit the floor in seconds, leaving her breasts bare to him.
He palmed one in each hand before bending down to take a nipple into his mouth. Then, moving quickly, he switched sides. All the while, she squirmed with the desire building inside her once again. This time she made the next move, reaching for his shirt and forcing him to stand up and release his hold on her breasts so she could remove it. His top fell to the floor, as well. He pushed her pajama bottoms and panties down past her hips, and she stepped out of her slippers, then eased each leg out.
Mimicking his motions, she pushed his shorts and boxer briefs down while he hastily stepped out of the leather slipper moccasins he wore. Now they were both naked, her body quaking beneath his in-depth perusal.
“I never imagined you naked,” he said while shaking his head. “I don’t know why. I should’ve known.” His hands were moving up and down her torso now. “I just should’ve known.”
Then he was pushing her against the door again, hiking up one of her legs to latch around the back of his waist. She pulled him to her, running her nails along his back as she waited with anticipation for him to sink deep. “Wait. Condom.”
The litany of curses that tumbled from his mouth at that moment would’ve seared any other person’s eardrums. If that other person hadn’t grown up in a house of crude brothers who thought swearing was a measure of their manhood.
Maurice backed away as if he’d been scorched, and she frowned when he dragged his hands down his face.
“Condoms are in my wallet.” If this were a cartoon, now would be the moment when question marks popped into the air. “My wallet is in my room.” That statement settled around them like a lead weight.
“Oh.” That didn’t seem like much of a response, but then—“Oh! Wait! I have some!” She shot across the room, not giving a damn what body parts jiggled as a result, and went straight to the duffel bag she’d brought with her in addition to her suitcase. Digging inside she found the box and stood holding it in the air like it was the prize of the decade. “I have some!”
He did a fist pump in the air and then paused. “You always carry a whole box of condoms when you travel?”
“No.” She frowned and tossed the box at him. “Only when I’m coming to meet the guy who talked about making me come numerous times a day.”
Maurice didn’t respond. He was too busy ripping the box open, dropping the torn pieces of cardboard onto the floor. When he plucked one packet out of the box, the box met the floor as well. A moment later so did the condom wrapper as he hurriedly sheathed himself.
He reached for her and lifted her off her feet. With a gasp she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
“This is gonna be fast again,” he growled and then walked them to the nearest wall—which was actually the bathroom door—and pushed inside her.
“Yes!” The one word was loud and echoed throughout the room. “That’s what I want, hard and fast and so good. So damn good.”
Mutual gasps echoed through the air at their joining as she took him in deep. There were no more words, no more quips from either of them as only the sound of their bodies pounding into each other resonated throughout the room. He was driving into her so hard and so fast that her back slammed into the door, her mind whirling around the delicious thrill of this heated taking.
“Sorry,” he groaned and thrust inside her once more before his body stilled. “So. Sorry.” Two more of those stiff thrust-and-stop movements and she was shattering around him again.
Her eyes closed and her head tilted back, her fingers still digging into his skin as her muscles contracted around his pulsating dick.
“Dammit.” Moaning, he dropped his forehead to rest at her neck. His body jerked with his release moments after hers, as she continued to tremble.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered after a few minutes of them both trying to catch their breath.
“Tomorrow?” That was a weird word to use after sex.
He nodded. “Yeah. We’re gonna take it slow, tomorrow.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
MAURICE GRABBED TWO towels from the closet by the bathroom door and dropped them on the end of the soaker tub.
She was still standing in the doorway, a sheet from the bed wrapped around her body, and her arms folded over her chest to hold it in place. When he’d suggested they take a bath, the languid after-sex sensations that had been filtering through her body switched places with a clammy feeling that now pricked her skin. This was different and yet it was the same, even her body could get that message right.
Maurice was not Gordon, and this wasn’t a real relationship—that much was clear in her mind. But taking a bath was intimate, and intimacy blurred the lines. She needed those lines, the barriers she’d carefully built around her in the years since the worst breakup she’d ever experienced.
Unfortunately, she didn’t see a way of wriggling out of this that didn’t make it seem as if she were overreacting or, worse, weak.
“I’m not gonna bite. It’s just a bath. After all the falling we did on the slopes this afternoon and the other, um, very vigorous activity we just enjoyed, I figure a nice soak will do us both good.”
“You sound like an old man,” she quipped and then figured, the hell with it, and stepped completely into the bathroom.
“Nah, not old, baby.” He stepped into the tub and lowered his body into the water. “Just a ski coach whose student couldn’t grasp the idea that the skis remain on the ground, not her pretty little ass.”
Rolling her eyes at his smug smirk and keeping a lid on how irritated she’d been earlier today on the slopes, she dropped the sheet and walked over to the tub. Definitely large enough for the two of them. It was positioned close to a window that, when open, boasted another glorious view of the mountain scenery. She’d closed the electronic blinds when she’d been in here getting dressed earlier. Going to the opposite side of the tub, she hurriedly stepped in and sat down. Not because she was modest about him seeing her body—they’d obviously been there and done that. She just didn’t want to chicken out at the last minute.
“You aren’t the best at everything,” she said once she was settled in the pleasingly hot water. Maurice was a tall guy, six feet two and a half inches, to be exact. She knew how tall each of
the Gold siblings were because she’d seen their measurements on a spreadsheet during a show where the family were all wearing specially designed outfits. He sat with his legs spread open and pressed against the edge of the tub. She sat with her legs between his, her cheery yellow painted toenails almost hiding his crotch area. A bubble bath might have been a better idea.
“Never said I was. But the things I am good at I like to boast about. Just in case there’s someone who needs to know.” His juvenile grin relaxed her. It also made her look around for something to throw at him. “Besides, I can’t help it that you’re a perfectionist and it annoys the hell out of you when you can’t get something right on the first try.”
Only because in the past whenever she messed up, she paid for it dearly. “I’m not arguing with you about this.” She leaned back, letting her neck rest on the lip of the tub. If she closed her eyes and focused solely on the water, she wouldn’t have to stare at him and his naked body, a stark reminder that they’d totally changed the dynamic of their friendship.
A few moments passed in silence. Moments when she knew he was watching her, and she told herself not to feel uncomfortable about that.
“Why’d you sign up for Dear Lover?”
Hadn’t they already talked about this? No, not really. She sighed and lifted her head so she could look at him. “It was something to do. I saw the ad one night when I was doing online research. It was just there on the side of some website I was on, and the name caught my eye, so I clicked on it.”
“You weren’t looking for an online hookup?” He was staring at her skeptically, his eyes narrowing. Damn, when did he start looking so sexy?
From his tawny skin tone to the thick dark eyebrows that were so naturally neat that she couldn’t help but envy them to the low-cut goatee and his perfectly tapered fade haircut, he was quite possibly the handsomest man she’d ever seen. And that was just from the neck up.