by Molly Harper, Stephanie Haefner, Liora Blake, Gabra Zackman, Andrea Laurence, Colette Auclair
As I draw my hand over his bare length, my mouth actually starts to water. Trevor drops a few husky curses after I kiss the tip and then lick the head a few times. When I take all of him, he immediately grabs fistfuls of my hair, knotting his fingers into the length of it.
I had forgotten how heady and arousing this is with the right man. To have Trevor this way and hear him groan above me is nearly my undoing. Using my hand in tandem with my mouth, I twist my fist up and down, over the tip with every stroke until I’m sure that with just one deep move, he won’t be able to hold back.
Trevor sucks in a stuttered breath. “Christ, baby, that’s so good.”
In the echo of those words, I want all of this experience, to have him let go and feel him come. Gently, he starts to thrust into my mouth and his fingers dig into my scalp. Then, suddenly, he pulls back and I’m kneeling there with my mouth open, wanting him back.
“Hold on, come up here.” I shimmy up, worried about what could have gone wrong so quickly. Nothing seemed to be going wrong, that’s for sure. It’s been a while for me this way, but I think I can remember what gives.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper. “I wanted you like that.”
Trevor slumps against the wall, pressing his palms to his closed eyes. “You were getting me too close.”
“That was kinda the point.”
Opening his eyes, he cradles my face in his hands. “I didn’t come here for a blow job, Kate. I want more from this.”
I can’t help it. His thick, heavy length feels so good that I drop my hand down and start to stroke him again, firmly. My voice is pouty. “Can’t we have both?”
Bringing his hands to my ass, still exposed since my dress remains gloriously hitched up around my waist, he caresses the bare skin tenderly.
“I just have this thing in my head. The first time I come with you, I want to be inside you. Buried so deep that neither of us can think straight.”
Once he proclaims this, he reaches up around my neck and undoes the clasp of my dress, pulling it down and off me so I’m standing there completely naked except for my heels. He trails his index finger down my body, starting at my clavicle, slowly running between my breasts and over my belly.
“This body is where I want to be.”
His voice is so quiet that I take his head in my hands and kiss him softly. Pulling his hand, I lead us toward the bed and help him slip off the rest of his clothes. Once we’re both naked, with a powerful current of desire zinging between our bodies, I crawl on my knees onto the bed and curl my finger at him.
In one movement, he grabs my waist and flips me to the bed on my back, kissing and teasing my neck before landing on my nipples. Taking time with each, he sucks and licks until they grow so unbearably stiff that I cry out a little. Slipping one hand down between my legs, he groans and pushes a finger inside.
“Shit, you’re so wet again. All for me?”
“All for you,” I whisper into his ear, and then tug his earlobe with my teeth.
He pulls his hand away and leans down to kiss me, working his body against mine. The tip of his cock is grazing against my entrance, but before I can slither just so and guide him inside, he gets up from the bed.
“Hold on, baby, we gotta be safe.” I hear him grab his pants, the belt jingling as he fishes a condom from the pocket. The foil rips, and I let out a whimpering groan that is loud enough to be somewhat embarrassing. He chuckles softly. “Just one second, sweet thing. I’ll be right there.” Rolling the condom down his length, he strokes himself a few times and stares at me. The dim light means I can’t see his face wholly, but there is something hesitant in his expression, nearly hinting at nervousness. Lying across the bed with my knees up and my legs parted, one hand lazily rubbing my wetness, and him watching me that way, touching himself, makes every inch of my skin sing in tense, aching need.
Crawling back to me, he pulls my hand from between my legs and lays his own in its place. Tugging behind my knees, he drags my body toward his so he is close enough to my entrance that he can taunt me, pushing in with just the tip and then back out.
“Trevor, don’t tease. I’m going crazy here.” I wrap one leg around his back, in hopes he will yield, but he stays still and continues to press the head just so.
“Tell me what you want, baby. I need to hear you say it. In every dirty fantasy I’ve had about you, I can’t get enough of you begging me for it.”
He’s lowered his voice into a graveled plea and because I crave him so much, it’s easy to give him what he wants. What he needs. I spell it out for him, every detail of how badly I want him inside me, how I want every thrust, how I want to shatter all around him and have him come so hard he doesn’t remember his own name. Halfway through my dirty soliloquy, he slides into me and doesn’t stop.
He rubs his thumb against my clit, rich tension brewing under that steady touch. I try to catch my breath so it can be more than just panting pleas. I open my eyes and see him backlit from the single light in the room, his entire exquisite body above me and every wonderful muscle coiled in frenzied tension. Trevor tells me not to stop, to keep talking dirty to him. Barely, I find my voice again, begging him to take me harder. Forced to stop when I start to come, I can’t form words anymore, just wild sounds that ricochet in the room around the rumble of Trevor groaning. He gives another hard thrust and then curses, while gripping my hips so tightly that I’m sure his fingers will have marked me in the morning.
He collapses onto me, his warm breath seeping out against my collarbone. A light sweat covers our bodies so our skin slips against each other. Trevor raises his head just enough to see my face.
“Oh God, Katie, so fucking good. Better than anything.” His head drops heavily and his lips brush my neck as his breath slows into deep sighs.
Katie. The endearment tugs at some deep indulgent spot in my heart. No one calls me that. No one ever has. Wrapped in his hoarse and spent voice, though, it sounds perfect.
12
A few hours pass, but when my phone starts to ring, I would swear we’ve only lay sleeping against each other for a few minutes. From the other room, I can hear the chirp of my phone but try to ignore it. Just when I think it will stop, it starts again. Rolling away from Trevor’s heavy arm, I crawl off the bed and tiptoe into the sitting area. My purse is on the floor where I dropped it, so I kneel down and fish out the obnoxious contraption that drew me away from the warm body in my bed.
Kellan. Of course.
I answer in a loud whisper. “Kellan? Why are you calling?”
From the phone, I can hear commotion wherever he is, not like the club, but a place with lots of clanging interrupted by a few whistles and shouts. Shutting off the light in the entryway, I wander toward the large picture window in the sitting area. Standing in front of the window, I start to feel cold because away from Trevor’s heated body, anything else feels chilly. His soft, beautiful shirt is lying in a heap on the floor, so I grab it and slide it on. Leaning against the plateglass window with one shoulder, I take in the skyline and the city lights that cover the prospect. Somehow they look pretty, even to a country girl like me.
“I’m just checking on you, my sex kitten! We stumbled out of the club at last call and made our way to the best all-night diner in the city. It’s time for our preemptive hangover prescription. Biscuits and gravy! So brilliantly bad for you, but so perfect!”
His talk of food makes my stomach growl. Evidently, we burned a few calories ourselves. “Stop talking about food; it’s making me hungry. I’m fine. You can go back to your blue-plate artery-clogging delights.”
“Hungry, are you? That’s a very good sign! I wanted to make sure he didn’t take you back to some kinky bat-cave sex lair and tie you up. Not that being tied up is bad, but still—”
“Now you’re worried about a kinky sex lair? A few hours ago you were practically covering me in honey and presenting me on a silver platter to him.”
“Go ahead and say ‘thank you,’ my darling.
” Kellan laughs and I can hear Dah-veed in the background, drunkenly shouting something about more blueberry pancakes. I don’t buy it—as if that kind of carb-and-sugar-laced time bomb would ever cross his dainty lips.
“Thank you, Kellan.” As I say this, Trevor’s arms circle around my waist and his face burrows into my hair. I reach back with my free hand and caress the top of his head.
“Gimme the phone.” He murmurs into my hair.
“It’s just Kellan. He wanted to make sure you hadn’t taken me to an underground torture chamber or something.”
“I know, let me talk to him.” Trevor lifts his head and thrusts his hand up, prompting me to give him the phone.
I furrow my brow. “Kellan? Hold on, Trevor wants to talk to you.”
“What? He’s still there? Fabulous! Put all six feet of his yumminess on the line!”
I hold the phone out to Trevor. “Kellan? . . . No, call me Trevor . . . Yes, she’s fine. I just wanted to thank you for sending that text. I’m going to have to buy you a Rolex or something in return. Something big . . . No worries, safe and sound . . . Yeah, that too . . . Kellan? Say good night, OK? . . . Yeah, I’ll tell her . . . See ya.”
Trevor takes the phone and sets it on the small coffee table behind us. I pull his shirt closer against my skin and wrap my arms around my body because he’s too far away.
“What was that all about?”
“He asked if you were safe and satisfied.” He steps back to me, gloriously naked with the burgeoning light of daybreak illuminating his skin. Taking me in his arms again, he murmurs. “I told him you were.”
I close my eyes and let him surround me. The glass throws off a chill but everything about how we are counteracts that.
“You looked totally gorgeous standing there, when I came out. I didn’t say that before, I’m sorry.” Trevor props his head on my shoulder and rolls his chin down. “I didn’t tell you how beautiful you are. And now, all fucking sexy sleepy and wrapped up in my shirt. . . . Knowing you’re naked underneath and in front of this window, it’s so right.”
Pressing into me, moving his hands over my skin, he pauses to pull open the shirt so that the front of my naked body is on display.
“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he whispers and slides his hands over my hips. I place my palms against the glass, letting him do and say a hundred things that make me feel beautiful.
Once we tumble back to the bed, it’s lights-out for a while. The kind of comatose sleep that comes in the descent of endorphins, cortisol, testosterone, and whatever else lust produces. I don’t remember anything after Trevor gently drew me from the window and steered us toward the bed. We crawled under the cool sheets and slid our bodies against each other, where everything fell still and quiet.
Right up until the hotel clock ruined everything with a shrill, unnecessarily loud beeping alarm. I drag myself over Trevor’s body, which is sprawled out over three-quarters of the bed, and smack at the alarm indiscriminately.
“Did you set the alarm last night?” I groan out to him.
Trevor quietly clears his throat, but his voice is still thick and rough. “Trust me, setting the alarm did not cross my mind at any point last night.”
Continuing to press buttons, I whack at the top of the clock until I manage to do something that makes it stop. Once it shuts up, I look at the display. While a ten a.m. wake-up call in my regular life would be getting up late, today it feels like an early death sentence. Groaning again, I let my body fall on top of his.
“It’s ten. My flight is at three this afternoon. I have to get out of this bed at some point soon.”
Trevor draws his hand across my naked back tenderly, drawing his fingertips up and down my spine, then over my backside.
“Plenty of time, don’t worry. I don’t want to think about that right now.”
Eventually, he stops drawing his fingers on my back and focuses entirely on my ass, grazing so lightly it feels like feathers against my skin. I hitch one of my knees up just a small bit, opening my legs so that he can feel it.
“What would you rather think about right now?”
“You.”
I push up on my arms, just enough to see his face. His eyes are closed and a small grin plays across his mouth. It feels like I’m watching him dream.
“Care to be more specific?”
His eyes flutter open and he trains his gaze on mine.
“You riding me.”
Even after the last few hours, this makes my skin flush instantly. My first instinct is to say something smart, something to diffuse the erotic charge that’s bouncing off every part of me. Maybe if I make it a joke, it won’t feel so powerful. Instead, I drop my face away from his, seizing back a faint ability to think straight.
“Don’t look away.” Trevor brushes the hair back from my face and draws it over my shoulder. “Sit up so I can see you.”
Pushing up from my prone position, I pull one leg over and sit astride him, far enough back that I can drag my hands down his chest, his hips, and over his semi-erect cock. Licking my lips as I fondle him gently, I bring my face up to see him. He looks so relaxed, so sated and happy that I can’t help but smile.
“You’re the best view, just like that. Smiling, totally fucking naked, and stroking my dick.” Trevor grins at me and then lets his mouth drop open a little.
My eyes wander over him, landing on the scroll-like tattoo on his forearm. “Why don’t you have more tattoos?”
Glancing down at his arm, he shrugs. “I don’t know, I’m just not into them that much. They hurt like a son of a bitch and I’ll admit that I’m probably too soft to handle any more ink. Are you disappointed?”
I actually laugh. “Are you serious? There isn’t a single tiny thing about your body that I could be disappointed in. I just figured it was some kind of requirement for being a big-deal rock star and all.” Tracing one hand over the tattoo’s edges, I raise his arm up to see it better. The words are familiar and when I finish reading it all, I look up at him.
“What?”
Shaking my head, I give him small smile. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to be any sexier than you already are. Then you go and have a Rilke poem tattooed on your arm.” Drawing my mouth down, I start to run my lips over the words with moist, slow, openmouthed kisses.
“I don’t see any tattoos on your hot little body. No spring-break tramp-stamp regrets for you?”
“Nope.” I look up at him. “Disappointed?”
Trevor sits up and puts his face next to mine. “Absolutely not. I love how pure and smooth your skin is. Every inch of you is spectacular.”
I move my mouth to his, open and wet, taking tiny nips of his lower lip. Shoving his hands into my hair, he twists it in his fingers and kisses me greedily.
Leaning back, he reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom. “Come on, put the last of these six-dollar condoms on me. I want you on top.”
I take the package and tear it open.
“Six-dollar condom?”
“Hotel gift shop. That’s why I had to go in there. I was so wound up about meeting you at the club and thinking about having to wear something other than a hoodie that I blanked on showing up prepared. Eighteen bucks plus tax for a three-pack, but I guess they figure if you’re a guy in a hotel looking for condoms at the last minute, you’ll pay anything.”
I wriggle back a few inches to give myself enough room. Taking him in my hands, I stroke a bit before positioning the condom and then rolling it down slowly.
“Do you want me to reimburse you for half? You sound annoyed at the price,” I offer while continuing my work.
“I would have paid whatever they asked. Or handed over the keys to my car. I didn’t give a shit, I just wanted to get you alone.” He grunts and lets his head fall back. “You’re killing me here, Katie. Hurry. Up.”
When I’m finally done, he sits up again and grabs me around the waist, lifting me up and toward him. With him poised just beneath m
e, every kind of arousal fires inside. Letting my hips fall slowly, him filling me so fully, I gasp and then moan in relief.
“You like that?” His hands are against my thighs, pushing down so I can’t move much. “Just feel it for a second. Feel how deep I am.”
My head rolls against my shoulder and I shut my eyes. I want to move so badly. He answers my unspoken thoughts. “You wanna move, Kate? Slide that wet pussy all over me and rub your clit against me?”
Holy hell, the way he just says things. So hot, so completely dirty it makes every part of my body flare with need. I bite my lip and mumble. “Mmhmm. Please.”
Trevor rolls back down from me to lie against the pillows.
“Then give me a show. Fuck me.”
When I open my eyes, he’s watching me and I’ve never felt so sexually exposed before in my life. Despite the emotional nakedness it inspires, I don’t care. I don’t care that he’s looking at me like I’m a goddam stripper or something, that his gaze is nearly pure objectification. I don’t care because I like the way it feels when he wants me and that he doesn’t care how brashly he says so. With this sensation running through me, I start to move. I pull up and down over his length, Trevor running his hands along my thighs in time with my movements, and then sucking in a low hiss through his clenched teeth.
“That’s it, baby. Christ, I’ve thought about this nonstop since the second I met you. I wanted you so damn much.”
I can’t get enough of his words, telling me what to do and what he wants, because everything he says is just right and I don’t have to think about anything. When he tells me to touch my breasts and roll my nipples, it feels like I might come right then. When he directs me to slow and grind against him, my ragged breath yields unnaturally in anticipation.
Finally, when he tells me to lean back and put my hands on his thighs, bracing my body, I know I’m so close that a few perfect, firm nudges against my clit and I’ll lose it. I’m panting and moaning, rolling my hips, waiting for his next directive. At this point, I’m convinced he knows what my body needs better than I do. His words all come out huskily and even a bit harsh, but behind that, I can hear a tethered passion that he’s merely trying to hold on to as long as he can.