by Marie Jermy
“You like?”
“You know I do.” His gaze swept downward to the excuse for a pair of panties. The night before when he’d seen her put them on, he could have sworn they were the same color as her bra, but now they seemed darker. Then he noticed why. They were soaked. “You’re so wet, darlin’,” he said, stating the obvious and forgetting he’d put a curb on that endearment.
Ramona’s curse developed into a loud cry when Rex slipped his fingers under the lace, dipped them into her slick pussy, then brought them up to his mouth and licked her juices.
“And so tasty,” he added. Shifting back onto his knees, he pulled her upright, removed her shirt, and then pressed her back against the pillows. “You don’t mind if I leave your bra on, do you?”
“Er, no, I guess not.”
“Good. It’s such a fuckin’ turn-on! Vibrant-colored lingerie has always done it for me.”
“Well, I s’pose you’ll be happy to know that all my underwear are just as colorful. I don’t even own a white bra. Or black. Black is so clichéd.”
“Then we’re a match made in heaven.” Not waiting for Ramona’s response to that, Rex blazed a trail of openmouthed kisses across her shoulders, his fingers plucking at her erect nipples over the bra.
He inched lower, pulling the right cup down and laving the tight bud with his tongue. Then after a gentle nip, he slowly descended down her body, raining kisses over her rib cage, her flat belly, her curvy hips and toned thighs. He playfully pinged the narrow elastic bands of her panties then looked up when he heard her impatient curse. “What?”
“Hurry up and take them off! I’m dying here, Rex. I want your mouth on my pussy.”
“Your wish is my command. Lift your luscious ass.” She did as requested, and he pulled her panties down and off her legs with his teeth. Dropping them at the end of the bed, he took a real interest in her feet, especially her toes, the nails of which were painted a rich purple. He took hold of her right foot and brought it up to his mouth.
“I’ve been meaning to do this since day one.”
* * * *
Instantly anticipating what Rex had in mind, Ramona yanked her foot from his grasp and went to roll off the bed, but he easily caught her and pulled her back to his side.
“Rex, don’t you dare! I told you my feet are ticklish.”
He silenced her protest with a kiss. When he lifted his head, his smile was sly and oh, so smug. “I will kiss your toes. Even if I have to tie you to my bed.”
“Ohhhh, more bondage. Kinky.”
“Well, if that’s the way you want it, say no more.”
A couple of minutes later, Rex produced four silk ties from his wardrobe, and with confirmation that she was okay with it, had Ramona spread-eagled and bound to the bedstead. Crouching by the right-hand post, he breathed over her toes, then extended his tongue and licked her big toe. She immediately jerked against the soft bind, a giggle bursting from her lips. “This is supposed to be erotic foreplay,” he informed her with the hint of smugness.
“Just don’t expect me to return the favor!”
“Don’t worry. I won’t. I have something else for you to suck on.”
Ramona giggled hysterically, confident in the knowledge that if she hadn’t already been flat on her back, she would have collapsed as Rex set about his idea of “erotic foreplay.”
He was very thorough, not just sucking her toes, but running his tongue along the underside of her feet and pressing soft openmouthed kisses over every centimeter of flesh, while his fingers stroked and kneaded her calves up to behind her knees. Finally, though, she was giggling so much her sides began to hurt. “Please, Rex, stop. I’ve got a stitch.”
Ever the gentleman, Rex complied. He waited patiently for a minute then diverted his mouth and his fingers to the hot spot at the junction of her wide open thighs. Promptly forgetting about her stitch, Ramona thrust her pelvis upward into Rex’s face as he lightly teased her wet pussy folds with the tip of his tongue, his fore and middle fingers of one hand rimming her equally wet entrance. “Please, Rex, harder!”
Again, ever the gentleman, Rex complied, only he didn’t wait. Snaking his free hand under her ass to keep her raised, he clamped his mouth over her clit, sucking strongly, and shoved his fore and middle fingers inside her, twisting them in and out in a corkscrew motion, hard and fast.
Not really wanting to stoke his ego, but not being able to help herself, she cried, “Fuck, you’re good!” Then her orgasm swept through her, her violent cries of, “Oh, yes!” bouncing off the bedroom walls, her inner pussy muscles pulsating and clenching Rex’s fingers as he lapped at her flowing juices as though he hadn’t had a drink in days.
Before Ramona had the chance to draw breath, Rex positioned himself above her and shoved his cock into her, rocking his pelvis against her clit, causing a delicious friction that for once silenced her. She stared up into Rex’s toffee-brown eyes, darkened by desire, as he pistoned in and out, before, and much to her chagrin, he slowed the tempo of his brisk strokes. A groan slipped from his mouth, and his eyes drifted shut. “Rex? Open your eyes.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m drowning,” was his enigmatic reply. Then he groaned. “Hurry, Ramona, hurry! I can’t hold it! I’m coming… Ah, sweet heaven, I’m coming!”
Those words uttered so urgent, so raw, coupled with a rocking-pelvis-delicious-clit-friction-smooth-cock-stroke sent Ramona into her second climax. She wailed as tremor after tremor splintered her mind, body, and heart, only to be bonded again by Rex’s own climax, his groans of pleasure quieter and muffled as he buried his face against her neck.
Now that was sex without the slush. Or was it?
* * * *
I love you. It was a few minutes before Rex engaged his brain into not voicing that thought, or the question that followed—Ramona Anderson, will you marry me?
He raised his head and brushed his lips against Ramona’s eyelids as they fluttered closed. “Well, if I wasn’t awake before, I sure am now.” She murmured a response that sounded like, “Untie me.” He did so and pulled her against him. She offered no resistance to his post-coital cuddle. “Another bad night for Samantha?” he asked when she yawned loudly.
“Yeah, until she took a couple of sleeping pills, that is. Me, I just laid there.” She again yawned. “I’m going to sleep.”
“That’s a pity. I want that quickie you were so desperate for.”
Her giggle was sleep edged. “I’m not even gonna complain about sleeping in the wet patch.”
Her breathing deepened. Rex waited a few minutes before lifting her in his arms and carrying her through to her own room. He laid her on the bed and was going to leave, but she murmured a protest when he tried to slip his arms out from under her. Smiling, he joined her. She threw her leg over his as he pulled her back into his embrace, holding her lovingly and securely.
* * * *
Rex felt a smile creasing his features as he pulled his SUV to a stop outside the home of Ramona’s parents. The log cabin–styled house with its wooden veranda running along its entire length put him in mind of the television program The Waltons. Though what with the revelation that Mr. and Mrs. Anderson tuned into True Blood, Rex didn’t imagine for one second that they ended each night bidding everybody a good night.
“How do I look?”
Rex turned to Ramona. She was checking herself in the visor’s mirror as she shoved some gel through her hair. His smile widened. Had it only been ten minutes since she’d twice shown him she was a swallow girl?
After their lovemaking session that morning—a description Ramona would no doubt disagree with—and carrying Ramona to her bed, he’d been content to hold her as she slept. At 12:30 p.m., he’d showered and dressed, then made coffee for them both and a bowl of cereal for her. He’d kissed her awake, like she had done to him earlier, but forgot all about the coffee and the cereal when she kneeled before him, lowered his jeans and boxers to his ankl
es, and sucked his cock and played with his balls until he’d exploded in her mouth.
She’d eaten every drop of his cum, but even then, the little vixen hadn’t been content. She’d pushed him down onto the bed and had blown him again. He’d been so far gone, so high, so busy with his check-in at Hotel Cloud Seven, that he couldn’t have given a damn about the coffee or the cereal. But a second later and earth and reality had hurtled into startling clarity, when Ramona had glanced at the time, and in a mad rush gathering her clothes, informed him he’d been invited to her parents’ for Sunday lunch at one p.m. That had been twenty minutes ago.
“You look as good as you swallow.” Was it his imagination or did Ramona blush? His gaze swept over her. Actually, she looked more than good. She was hot, sexy, and beautiful. She wore a pair of old Levi’s, the faded soft denim snug across her well-rounded ass, curvy hips, and toned thighs, her white sleeveless T-shirt doing zip to disguise her bright-red satin bra.
Expressing an upward silent thank you for not being able to see the matching panties—not that it stopped him from visualizing them—Rex alighted from the driver’s seat and went around to the passenger side. He opened her door and extended his hand. She ignored it. “Don’t tell me, even my manners are romantic.”
Ramona jabbed a finger to the breast pocket of his pale blue shirt. “Promise me something.”
“Anything. Especially after those two blow jobs you performed.”
“That’s just it. Ross is going home to New York later, and this lunch is supposed to be a family affair. We’re doing everything we can to take Sammy’s mind off that bastard Raven. Normal, everyday stuff. Boring stuff. Funny stuff.”
He passed a hand over his whiskers, wishing he’d shaved. “A family affair? Then I’m honored to be invited.”
“Mom and Dad wanted it. Sammy did, too. After what’s happened, and apart from Dad, Ross, and Matt, you’re the only man she feels comfortable around.” She again jabbed him. “But I don’t want to advertise that we’ve been swinging from the jungle vines! So keep that buttoned,” she said, eyeing his mouth, “and that”—her gaze descended to the crotch of his own Levi’s—“zipped.”
It was at that moment that Ramona’s right hand bra strap decided to drop. How he managed it, he wasn’t quite sure, but Rex shoved the urge to push the strap back up onto her shoulder right out of his mind and then shoved his hands into his pockets. Since he was the kind of guy who liked a hands-on approach to women, particularly with one that he loved with every fiber of his being, they were the safest place. It’s gonna drive me nuts not being able to touch you, darlin’, but… “You have my word.”
“Good. And call me darlin’ and I’ll kick you in the nuts!”
Had she just read his mind? Shaking his head in amusement, Rex followed Ramona up the steps and onto the veranda. The front door suddenly flew open, and Matt barreled past Ramona and almost knocked Rex on his ass. He steadied himself with a hand on one of the upright supports and said, “Hi, Matt.”
“Bye, Rex.”
“Forgive my youngest,” Ross Senior said, appearing in the doorway. “He moved back in this morning, and now he’s late for a shift.”
“Not a problem. And I apologize for our lateness, sir. Up until twenty minutes ago, Ramona was still asleep.” Rex caught Ramona’s sharp look before she vanished inside. Ross Senior crossed his arms and frowned. Ah. An image of Ramona’s luscious mouth wrapped around his cock popped forward before he pushed it back. Latimer! Don’t even go there! “And I was in the office going through the accounts, sir.”
The frown deepened. “Drop the ‘sir.’”
“Mr. Anderson.”
“You can drop the ‘Mr. Anderson,’ too.” The frown was replaced with a wide grin. “Call me Ross. Unless you want to eat out here on the veranda?”
Rex returned the grin and stepped across the threshold into the living room. Furnished with antique cherrywood cabinets and brown leather sofas and chairs covered with colorful throws, it was homely, and despite recent events, the sense of a happy family life was as palpable as the divine cooking smells that wafted all around him.
Though the grin was friendly, Ross Junior, who stood by the stairs, his arms around Ramona and Samantha, immediately warned him, “Call me Junior and I will feed you your balls.”
“I don’t know whether you know, but I’m a vegetarian,” Rex pointed out, his grin just as friendly.
“I’ll serve them with a side salad then.”
A soft feminine voice from the kitchen doorway then spoke. “Now, now, Junior, that’s no way to treat our guest.”
Biting back the laugh at Ross’s grimace, Rex turned to Jess. Her apron, with the words “No. 1 Stirrer,” did make him laugh. “Mrs. Anderson, something smells good.”
“You obviously do want to eat out on the veranda.”
“Jess,” he corrected.
“That’s better. Walk this way. You can help me serve. I hope you like nut-roast. It’s my husband’s specialty.”
Nut-roast? Well, wasn’t that appropriate? With Ramona’s bra strap still on show, Rex’s nuts were definitely roasting. But he’d made a promise to Ramona, and nuts or no nuts, he intended to keep it.
* * * *
Ramona waited until her father had joined her mother and Rex in the kitchen before turning her attention to her brother and sister. Though she felt pleased at the glimpse of steel-edged grit from Samantha, she felt piqued at their exchange of knowing looks and smiles. “He’s just my partner at the practice,” she protested.
“Of course he is,” Ross said.
“Of course he is,” Samantha said.
“He is! And yeah, I live with him. But that doesn’t mean jack squat, either.”
“Of course not.”
“Of course not,” Samantha again repeated in complete agreement with Ross.
Ramona protested further. “He’s a smug SOB! We share the john, not a bed!” The moment she said those words, she wished she could take them back. She pressed her mouth shut, just in case she dug herself into a bigger hole.
Samantha shared another knowing look and smile with Ross and then said, “Rex’s big bananas joke made me laugh. I’d like to know if he has any more,” and ambled through to the kitchen.
“Big bananas?” Ross asked. “Shouldn’t that be brass balls?”
Ramona slapped a hand against his hip as he sauntered away. Something small and hard struck her palm. “Ow!” She grabbed his belt to yank him back and stuck her hand in his front jeans pocket. She removed a small velvet box. He swiped it from her grasp, but she swiped it back and flipped the lid. Her eyes widened a fraction at the sapphire and diamond ring nestled within. “What’s this?”
“What does it look like? It’s an engagement ring.”
“For Jessica?” She’d been stunned but happy at her brother’s announcement that he and Jessica Ferris were engaged. They made a good couple, even if they were both as stubborn as sin. However, what she didn’t need was for anybody—namely her parents, Samantha, Ross, or even Matt, who was even more cynical than her on the subject of romance—thinking she and Rex made a good couple and that they would be next to marry.
Not that she would mind if Rex did pop the question… Whoa, hold on there. Why was she even thinking of marriage? She was still getting used to the idea of slush, not sex. She needed baby steps. And those did not involve exchanging vows with her family and God as her witness. Besides, Rex had only been divorced for seven months. Surely he was in no hurry to remarry?
It was at that moment that Rex joined them. He now wore the “No. 1 Stirrer” apron. Ridiculous had never looked so hot. Ramona felt a smile curving her lips and a tingling moist sensation developing in her pussy, before she noticed Ross was watching her closely as he took the box from her hand and tucked it back into his pocket.
“Well, I haven’t proposed to anybody else lately.”
“When did you buy it?” she asked, hoping to sway Ross from asking questions of his own.
“Yesterday afternoon when Mom and Dad returned from Butte and helped move Sammy’s things. Which reminds me, where were you and Rex going in such a hurry when you came back from Watson’s? You leapt into his SUV quicker than Sammy and I could blink.”
Ramona felt her face flaming. So, while she and Rex hadn’t seen Ross and Samantha, they had seen them. Crap. Having already told Rex to keep his mouth buttoned, she wasn’t about to do the exact opposite and admit to having vine-swinging sex with one very hot and smug SOB. She wasn’t about to mention blowing him, either. She could still taste his spicy and male cum in her mouth. She’d never been a very good liar, either, so she decided the best course of action was to develop a sudden case of selective deafness. “Rex, I forgot to tell you. Ross is getting married.”
“So I hear. Samantha just told me. Congratulations, Ross.”
“Thanks. And you haven’t answered my question, Mona.”
“Lunch ready?” Ramona airily asked Rex and ignored Ross, who she now noticed had assumed his detective-grilling mode, a trait he’d no doubt learned from their father. Double crap. Fortunately, Rex then spoke up, saving her face from bursting into flames.
“Ramona, in answer to your question. Yes, lunch is ready. And to yours, Ross. Watson jerked me off. Jerked us off. We wanted to get home to vent our frustrations.”
“I hope you didn’t vent your frustrations out on Mona.”
“Of course I didn’t!” Rex interjected at Ross’s accusing tone. “I took a pair of shears to a lilac bush in the garden.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“So while you were developing green fingers, what, pray, was Mona doing? You know, to vent her frustrations?”
“Riding a stud.”