Walking backwards now, she smiled. “I think we should stay in. We can watch the fireworks from my bedroom window.”
Interest chasing away the anger and despair inside me, I rose. “Is that so?”
“Yep. But, if you don’t want to, you can go to bed. I understand you’ve had a tiring day escaping mad reporters and such,” she said airily. “I’ll watch the show by myself.”
In a fast move, I grabbed her, startling a laugh out of her, and hauled her to me. “You think to taunt me?”
“No.” She put her hands on my chest and blinked those beautiful eyes when I just stared. “What?”
Did she honestly have no idea how deeply she affected me? I nipped the fast-beating pulse on her throat. Growled, “Your folks?”
“They left. They’re going out to dinner after Dad drops off the snack basket for Ray and her friends at the hill—”
I cut her off with my mouth, swung her into my arms, and walked into the house. Traversed the kitchen, headed down the corridor, then took the stairs up, stopping at the landing that parted two ways. And finally broke our kiss. “Where?”
“Up,” she panted and pointed to another smaller, wooden staircase on the side.
“Did they toss you in the attic?” I asked, carefully navigating the narrow stairs.
She laughed and opened the door. The low light from the wall sconces cast a soft, golden glow in the bedroom done in earthy tones. A bay window opposite the bed overlooked the copse of trees and dark skies. I lowered her to her feet.
She ambled to the bay window. “I love this view, just me and nature.”
My gaze fixed on her, I followed and ran my hands down her sides. Drawing her against me, I trailed my mouth along her nape. A tiny sigh escaped her. She reached behind her and locked her hands behind my neck, her back flush against my front. I doubted she was aware of the provocativeness of her actions—her breasts thrusting out, demanding my touch.
“The fireworks from here are really amazing.”
“I’m sure they are.” I slid my hand under her shirt and cupped her breast, rolling her nipple. Needing to touch more of her, I slipped my other hand beneath her black tights and panties and stroked her between her thighs. Her entire body tensed. She bit her lip.
Curious, I watched her face as I parted her cleft and deliberately teased her clit. She stopped breathing.
“Too much?” I asked softly.
She shook her head, the color of her cheeks deepening. Ah, right, she was a little nervous…and shy? Because we could see our images reflected clearly in the windowpane?
“Let me get rid of this.” I grabbed the hem of her loose sweatshirt, pulled it over her head, and tossed it to the window seat. She stepped out of her pink, fluffy slippers. I turned her to me and dragged her black leggings off.
As I straightened, her clothes fell from my limp hands. My heart tripped. I simply stared, my breath stuck in my throat, my gaze glued to her deliciously feminine body with miles of delectable warm, golden skin, gorgeous legs, and a small, neat patch of dark hair between her thighs.
In all my fantasies about her, nothing compared to the reality of seeing her totally naked. She was stunning…sexy.
She fidgeted. “Max, stop staring and get naked, too.”
At her discomfort, I murmured, “You’re beautiful.”
She rolled those striking amber eyes. “I’m short and—”
I grabbed her and spun her around, startling a squeak from her as I yanked her back against my chest and bit her nape. “You’re perfect.”
She wiggled, her gorgeous ass rubbing my already aroused groin, and reached behind her for my jeans button. I pushed her hands away. With my booted feet, I spread her legs apart and threaded my fingers through the soft curls on her mound, then tugged gently. “Put your arms back around my neck.”
She inhaled sharply but did as I instructed, her gorgeous breasts jutting out again.
“Watch the window, Logan.” I wanted her to see the sensual vision reflected on the glass pane as I stroked her cleft with one hand and teased her nipple with the other.
I slid a finger knuckle-deep into her snug warmth, and pulled out again, this time, adding another to my invasion of her beautiful body. In and out I worked her, and as her inner muscles tightened around my fingers, I withdrew and circled her clit with her wetness, then grasped the swollen flesh and pinched lightly.
Her entire body jerked, her nails biting into my neck, a low moan of need escaping her. She pushed harder into my hand. “Max, please.”
Yes, that is exactly how I wanted her, wanting me to give her more, give her that push over.
“Not yet, baby.” I scooped her into my arms and settled her on the armchair. Lowering to my knees, aware of those slumberous golden eyes watching me, I drew one tempting nipple into my mouth. As I sucked on it with firm pulls, she moaned and grasped a fistful of my hair.
“No.” Taking both of her hands, I moved them above her head to the headrest. “Hold. I want you to feel what I do.”
Lifting her legs, I placed them over the armrests. She squirmed, color riding her cheeks, her embarrassment plain on her expressive features at being splayed open. I grasped her thighs, keeping them still. “Don’t move your legs off these rests, Logan, I want to see you.”
She bit her lip. The scent of her arousal, of warm female—a heady mixture—and the innocently erotic sight she presented to my starved body, blanked my mind. All I knew was I had to have her, make her mine.
I ran my palms along her inner thighs, back to the place I was dying to have my mouth on again. I stroked her slick cleft. Her raspy breathing increasing, I pushed my fingers into her. She took them easier now, and I thrust deeper, sliding my thumb over her clit.
A whimper escaped her.
“I love watching you,” I murmured. “I love watching how you eat…how you tuck your hair behind your ear or nibble your lower lip when you’re thinking. Now, I want to watch how you come as I work you with my mouth, fuck you with my fingers, and then do it all over again with my cock.”
Those eyes, brighter then the sun, widened.
Her hands lowered. I grabbed both her wrists and narrowed my eyes. “Keep them there, Logan, or I’ll make you beg to come.”
Ila
At Max’s threat, my heart thudded in my ear, watching him between my thighs, those strong tattooed forearms keeping my knees open. His gaze on mine, he spread my cleft apart, then he lowered his head and his mouth covered me.
Oh, dear God! I clutched the headrest harder, my fingers biting into the fabric as his tongue did things to me I never thought possible. Unbelievable pleasure spread from my core, scouring my body in a flood of sensation. Then I stopped thinking, trying to survive this tempest he created inside me.
He was no longer lightly licking and sucking me, his tongue no longer rhythmically dipping into my opening. Now, his fingers, lips, and teeth were involved. Pressure built inside me, threatening to consume me whole.
“Max, pleaseeee.” My body bowed, strung taut, riding the edge. A hand on my stomach, he held me down, his fingers working me harder, then a sharp nip on my clit—
I plummeted over, screaming his name.
Breathing hard and trying to find my way back from wherever he’d sent me reeling to with that mind-numbing orgasm, I slowly opened my eyes. He sat back on his heels, watching me, still dressed in his tee and jeans.
While I was naked and splayed open with him at eye-level, able to see everything.
I tried to close my thighs, but his hands on my knees squeezed, stopping me. Bottomless –lake-green eyes held mine. “You come beautifully from my mouth, Logan. I like hearing you scream my name when you do. Don’t move.”
With that order, he rose to his feet. Pulling off his tee, he tossed it aside, crossed to the door and locked it then came back, his zipper undone. He scooped me up from the chair, crossed to the bed, and set me down, then stripped off his jeans and boxers in record time.
I’d see
n him naked once for a scant second, and with his shirt off several times, though then I’d tried not to look. Now, it was all I could do.
By God, he was pure perfection, from the top of his blond hair to his bare feet. His body, though lean, was tough, a sculptured wall of well-defined pecs and abs. Utterly male. His arms and chest were covered with ink, save his left pec. His rippling abs were unmarked, but he had a Celtic cross on the side of his torso. As my gaze trailed lower, my mouth dropped open.
Holy mother! He had a piercing—a silver barbell on the head of his cock. He hadn’t been kidding that day we’d had coffee. My gaze rushed to his.
Amusement lit his green eyes. “Trust me, you’ll like it…or I can take it off?”
What would that feel like inside me?
When he lowered his hands to remove it, I reached and stopped him with a shake of my head. Then I stroked him, my thumb sliding over the barbell and the pre-cum I found there. And like everything about him, his cock was truly impressive. Tightening my fingers around his rigid thickness, I lowered my head and ran my tongue over the top, lightly licking the silky smooth head and the barbell and down his notable length and back up. I took him into my mouth, careful of my teeth; I tightened my lips around his cock and worked his length.
“Christ, Logan,” he said roughly, hands fisting my hair. “You’re going to make me come, you do that.” He eased me away, kissing me hard.
“Why—”
“Later—shit, condom!”
He grabbed his jeans from the floor and found his wallet, pulled out a foil package. Ripping it open with his teeth, he pinched the end and rolled it on his hard length.
Back on the bed and on his knees, he grasped my hips and pulled me closer, my thighs spreading open over his. He slid his thumb over my clit, and a shudder rippled through me. Fisting his erection, he pressed the head against my opening.
Braced on my elbows, I watched him push into me, feeling him stretch me wide. The barbell stroked my opening and then the head of his cock slipped inside. With a grunt, he thrust in, stealing my breath at the impossible fullness I felt, my body stretching to accommodate him.
A groan rolled out of his throat. The sound a melting combination of pain and awe. Masculine. Intoxicating. It was sexy as hell.
The tenderness in his searing green eyes stole my breath. “Let go, baby. I have you.”
Panting hard, I looked down, and my breath caught. He was all the way inside me.
He moved to lie on me, and I sighed, savoring the feel of his warm body on mine, his weight an added pleasure. His forearms braced on the bed, he slowly thrust in and out, setting an erotic rhythm, then he increased the speed, and pleasure rebuilt within me.
Face to face, there was no way to hide my emotions from him. My chest tightened. Realizing just how close I was to falling for him, I shut my eyes.
“No, Logan, look at me. I want to see you. No hiding.”
He pinned both my wrists above my head. Holding me down, he moved inside me, the moment sensual, deeply intimate. Then he kissed me, his lips hard, demanding. Angling his hips, he drove harder and faster, the barbell on his cock rubbing my inner walls, hitting me in a spot that sent my mind skyrocketing—the pleasure so powerful. My mind took flight as flesh slammed against flesh, the erotic sounds filling the silent bedroom.
Sweat beaded my brow. I whimpered, my body bowing as release hovered. I longed to hold him but didn’t dare.
“You’re close. I can feel your every ripple around my cock.” His hand slipped between our bodies, and he rolled my clit. A sharp pinch.
“Maaax!” My mind split, a hoarse cry tore free as my orgasm splintered my mind, sending me careening into a place of undeniable ecstasy.
Max pounded harder into me, then stiffened. “Fuck!” A grunt escaped him as his own release hauled him over. His brow lowered to mine, his harsh breaths a wonderful sound to my ears as I floated back into my body.
“You okay?” he asked softly, his gaze tender, a little amused. He swiped the damp hair off my brow.
Was I okay with him taking control and giving me the most incredible pleasure ever? I smiled. “Never better.”
Laughing, he eased out of me. Despite knowing he was only going to dispose of the condom, I wanted to call him back, didn’t like the emptiness I felt without him. It was like we’d connected—like a bond had formed. Pushing that foolish thought aside, I pulled the covers over me and stared at the sloping ceiling of my attic bedroom.
This wasn’t what we’d signed up for. He wasn’t mine, nor I his, not for the long-term anyway. I needed to move on from my hermit lifestyle. And Max was hot, sexy, and he wanted me. Maybe, it was because I wasn’t like the girls he usually hooked up with. I turned away and faced the opposite wall.
“Shutting me out already?”
Footsteps. Then Max lifted the covers and slipped in beside me, pulled me close, his front curving around my back, and ran his hand lightly from my waist to my hips.
A sudden kaleidoscope of colors brightened the room. With no idea what to say, I mumbled, “The fireworks have started.”
Those fingers stroking me stilled. Then tightened on my hips. “Answer me, Logan.”
At his demand, I blurted out, “Why me, Max?”
“Because you are stubborn, beautiful, and you see me.” No hesitation. “No one ever has, not even my old man.” He smoothed his palm over my stomach, his tan, tattooed forearm a striking contrast against my own sun-brown skin. I traced the gray, tonal ink outline of the skeleton in a top hat smoking a cigar there. His warm breath skimmed over my nape, and he pressed his lips to my shoulder. A shudder raced through me. “And because you pulled me out of my downward spiral and showed me how to live again.”
My chest compressed. I rubbed his biceps wrapped around me, struggling to get my lungs working again. “So why the tattoo of the skeleton with the top hat and cigar?”
“I liked it. Quite ironic, considering I still do that shit.”
A habit I wished he’d give up. “And this?” I asked instead, tracing a line of musical notes amidst his other ink that wound around his forearm like a rope.
“A line from my mother’s first performance…” His warm mouth trailed kisses along my nape. His semi-erect cock stirred against my backside.
“Already?” I teased.
“With you, it doesn’t need time, it seems.”
I felt his smile as he nipped my skin.
“Do your parents ever come looking for you after a night out?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I tried to turn, but his arm tightened, and his teeth fastened on my shoulder, holding me there. I looked at him over my shoulder. Grumbled. “I want to hold you and touch you.”
“Later you can do anything you want, but right now...” He kissed my upturned mouth, his hands stroking down my thigh. He lifted my leg over his, opening me to his exploring fingers.
My breath caught. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“No, baby, I only want your pleasure.” His thumb lightly stroked my clit. Once, twice and pleasure resurged…
Chapter Thirteen
Max
The dull gray light of early morning seeped into the room from the undrawn drapes. My gritty eyes hurt so I squeezed them shut. I was alone in bed. Logan was probably in the bathroom.
I really hated the small snatches of sleep I managed to grab. They were worse than not sleeping at all, leaving my mind and head feeling sluggish. Why the hell did I think that maybe, just maybe, I’d sleep for a few hours at least after making love to Logan? I rubbed my eyes, the low-grade pounding behind them a stark reminder of another shitty day ahead.
My gaze shifted back to the bathroom. I frowned at the silence.
No. No, way, Logan, you aren’t shutting me out!
Jaw tight, I pulled on my clothes she’d folded and set on the very armchair I’d mouth-fucked her in, and after a quick stop in the bathroom, made my way down to the ground floor of the sil
ent house. The rich smell of coffee infused the air, but the kitchen was empty.
Where the hell was she?
I pushed open the door and stepped outside. Light rain fell, and fog enfolded the tall trees and shrubs in its vaporous hue. About to pull out my cell and call her, movement to my left caught my attention.
There, on the padded two-seater swing she sat, a knitted throw on her lap. She wore a loose, thick, navy sweater, and her furry slippers were on the tiled porch. The swing barely moved as she sipped her steaming drink.
She looked so beautiful and serene sitting there, but if she thought she could shut me out now that she had what she wanted, she was in for a damn shock.
I strode over.
She looked up. A soft smile curved her mouth. “Hey.”
My irritation wavered. I sat beside her, careful not to jolt the swing and spill her hot drink. “You left.”
“I’m an early riser, Max.” She faced forward again, appearing to study the drenched trees and shrubs shrouded in mist. “Everything’s so beautiful. Peaceful. I love the rain.”
I glowered at the swirling mist, trying hard to get my turbulent emotions under control. She held out her mug to me. “Here.”
“I don’t drink chocolate.”
“It’s Milo.”
“And how is that any different?” I shifted my brooding stare to her, and was spellbound by the softness in her gaze. As if under a spell, I took her mug and set it on the floor, pulled her onto my lap, and put my mouth on hers. She tasted of chocolate and mint. And when she kissed me back, the restlessness within me settled. I deepened the kiss, and those tiny little sounds she made, ones more seductive than a moan, filled my ears. “I missed you.”
“I’m right here.”
“In bed,” I growled against her mouth.
She laughed, pressed another kiss to my lips, and leaned her head against my shoulder.
Resting my cheek on her head, I smoothed the silky strands. “What’s on for today? Will the fair still run in this weather?”
Breathless (Players to Men) Page 18