In Deep

by Brenda Rothert

  I let my fingers fall and he gave me a lopsided grin. “You think I need to be told that?”

  My cheeks heated with embarrassment. “I don’t know. Some men get right to the point.”

  “Only the ones who are lousy in bed.”

  I dropped my gaze down to my lap, but he tipped my chin back up with his fingers.

  “You thought this night would end before sunrise?” he said in a low, amused tone. “I promise you excruciating slowness. I’ll bring you close so many times you’ll lose count. And don’t try to play passive and shy with me; I know you better than that. You won’t come ‘til I see your demanding side.”

  I licked my lips; feeling a warm ache of awareness between my legs. When I leaned forward to kiss him, he took my hands and helped me up instead.

  “Downstairs,” he said in a commanding tone. “Nothing is interrupting us this time. I’ve waited too long for you to let that happen.”

  How long had he been waiting for me? Since he first reassessed his opinion of my mousiness?

  I realized for the first time how long I’d waited for a man who turned me on to the point of desperation and also made me want to confess my deepest truths. Who danced with me, teased me and held me as I cried.

  My whole life. I’d been waiting for him my whole life, and I wasn’t going to let my fears about the future get in the way of this night.

  I followed him downstairs and through the door to my bedroom, closing it. The room was faintly lit by the moonlight shining around the edges of the blinds.

  Mason cupped my face in his large hands and kissed me. It was soft and easy, his lips caressing mine. My back was to the bed, and he eased me toward it, both of us stepping closer as we kissed. When the backs of my legs touched the bed, he leaned forward and I let myself fall back, his hand on the small of my back to soften my landing.

  He leaned on his elbows and I felt his warmth against me but not his weight as he kissed my neck. I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him closer.

  He shifted his weight to his knees and worked my shirt up, lowering his mouth to my stomach. The scrape of his beard on my sensitive skin made me jump and cry out. He locked his hands around my hips to hold me in place.

  I’d never felt anything as overwhelming as his slow, torturous worship of my skin. He kissed and caressed and ran the tip of his tongue over the edges of my bra. My breathing was ragged and hard, punctuated by the occasional moan I couldn’t help.

  When he eased me up to pull my shirt off over my head, I tugged urgently at his and he grabbed a fistful of it and pulled it up and off, tossing it to the floor. He slid off my pants next, exposing my body to his warm, hungry gaze.

  We were skin to skin, and I let out a groan of happiness when his mouth returned to my chest. He licked my nipple through the satin of my bra and then captured it between his teeth. My hips shot up from the bed as arousal spiked through me.

  “You’re so damn responsive,” he said, his voice husky. “I love it.”

  He kissed his way up my neck, using his lips and tongue and even giving me an occasional nip of his teeth.

  “I think I could come just from this,” I whispered.

  His low, satisfied hum vibrated against my skin. “I won’t let you.”

  I ran my fingers through his thick, short hair, tugging his ear lobe between my teeth. He groaned and bit my shoulder lightly, soothing it with a soft kiss right after.

  I swam in sensations. His hard, powerful body was my anchor as his mouth explored my legs and stomach, my neck and shoulders. The slow, deliberate pace was delicious and torturous at the same time.

  By the time he slid off my panties and I felt his hot breath between my thighs, I was humming with arousal.

  “Mason . . .” My tone was desperate.

  He groaned with satisfaction. “Fuck, yeah. I like hearing you say my name with your legs spread for my mouth.”

  My skin was extra sensitive after a bikini wax this afternoon. I fisted the bedspread as he blew a soft, warm breath against me. He was so close. I arched my hips off the bed, desperate for contact.

  He finally rewarded me by running his tongue along the seam of my opening. I gasped loudly and he ran his tongue back down, all the way to my ass, which was still shamelessly pushed up in the air. He bit one ass cheek and then the other, making me cry out. I was on the edge, craving release like I’d never known possible.

  When his tongue finally parted me open, I threw my head back and pulled on the sheets still bunched in my fists.

  “Mason . . . yes. Oh God, yes. Please . . .”

  His tongue swept up and down over my clit and then he sucked it gently for a couple seconds and I came apart. His name flew out of my mouth along with every curse word I’d ever heard as he cupped my ass in his hands and I had the deepest orgasm of my life. It went on and on, his tongue prolonging it until I collapsed back down to the bed with a deep exhale.

  I’d barely managed a full breath when I heard the rip of a foil wrapper. I lifted my head from the pillow and made out the lines of Mason’s face in the darkness.

  “I don’t think I can move,” I said. “I feel like Jell-O.”

  He rolled on the condom and his lips curved up in a smile. “I’ll go easy,” he said. “At first.”

  After a long, sweet kiss, he thrust himself inside me and I shot to attention, not as Jell-O-ish as I’d thought.

  “Oh my God, Mason. I can’t . . . you won’t fit.”

  He pulled back and pushed in again, groaning loudly. “So fuckin’ good, baby,” he said, his voice ragged and uncontrolled. “So tight.”

  My hips moved with his, the discomfort giving way to a blissfully full feeling. I reached for his back and dug my fingertips in, wanting more of him.

  “That’s right, baby. You needed my cock in this pussy so fucking bad, didn’t you? You like the way I fuck you?”

  “Yes,” I said, panting as another orgasm started building inside.

  He gave me a few more hard, measured thrusts before he pulled out and moved me onto my side. He lay down with his front to my back, holding my leg in the air as he pushed back inside me with a grunt of satisfaction.

  My fists found the sheets again as he fucked me and fingered my clit at the same time. I said his name over and over, hoping he knew I was begging him to get me off again. It was almost too much, having a man so large and strong in command of my body. He held me in place with a hand on my shoulder, hammering himself into me like no one ever had.

  “Goddamn, April,” he said, his voice strained. “You take my cock so fuckin’ good. I wish I could rip off this condom and come in your tight little pussy.”

  His words started to send me over the edge, but then he took his fingers away from my clit and I moaned desperately.

  “Not yet,” he said, pounding into me several more times.

  Then he flipped me onto my knees and did me from behind, one hand on my shoulder and the other wrapped around my hip. He brought me close again before switching positions again.

  And then, finally, when he was back on top of me, he didn’t stop. I pulled his hair between my fingers as he hammered into me, able to make out his eyes on mine even in the darkness.

  “April,” he said in a strained tone. “Fuck. April . . .”

  He was close, and I’d brought him here. The thought pushed me into a climax so intense it brought tears to my eyes. They spilled over as I cried out his name and he groaned against my lips.

  I’d had sex before, but never like this. Never, ever like this. I felt changed. Exposed. Awakened. I wanted more. Not just more of the sex, but more of him. But a voice in the back of my head told me I couldn’t have as much as I wanted.

  He kissed me gently and stroked my hair as I ran my fingers over his sweat-dampened skin. The sun was just starting to creep out from around the blinds when I let sleep take over.

  I FINISHED UP AN email to my accountant and closed my laptop. I had to get my mind onto work. Even after spending the ent
ire night in bed with April, she was still on my mind. We’d slept a couple hours before she’d gone upstairs to make breakfast and I’d hit the shower.

  It had been hands down the best sex of my life, though I wasn’t planning to over-examine why. I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, but I could give April what she needed anyway. We’d sleep exclusively with each other. That, I could definitely do.

  I ran upstairs, smiling when I saw her shaking her hips. She was dancing in her pink bathrobe as she scooped scrambled eggs into a big bowl.

  “Morning,” I said.

  “Oh. Hey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

  She set the pan down and I approached her, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. “I’ve seen these hips move more scandalously than this, baby.”

  “So you have.” There was a smile in her tone.

  “Last night was incredible,” I said, moving her long curls aside so I could kiss her neck.

  Her hum was a mix of agreement and satisfaction.

  “I have to work in my office at home today,” I said, still kissing her warm skin. “I need the computers I have there.”

  “Want some breakfast before you go?”

  “I’m hoping you’ll come with me. I’m gonna eat and go to the gym and head home around ten. You can come see my place.”

  She gave me a small smile. “I wish I could, but I’m going over to Miss Dee Dee’s with Ivy for lunch.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I’m hoping some concealer will make me look well-rested.”

  I went to the coffeepot and poured a mug of coffee.

  “My mom’s doing a fundraiser Wednesday evening for the hospital foundation. It’s a dinner party at the Thorncrest Mansion. Will you come with me?”

  She furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure I have anything to wear.”

  “Go to that boutique downtown and get something. Tell Sandy to invoice me.”

  “I’ll just borrow something from Ivy.”

  I put my mug on the counter and wrapped my arms around her waist, looking down at her.

  “Go to the boutique. Get a dress I can pull up over your hips after the party. Or . . . yeah, during. Thorncrest is huge. Lots of rooms to sneak off to.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Will you do it like you said the other day? From behind?”

  I nodded, my cock stiffening. “After I spank your ass. Get some skimpy, lacy panties too.”

  “Mason,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper, “I can’t go to the boutique and buy that stuff and tell them to send you the bill. I’ll look like a prostitute.”

  “They won’t think anything of it.”

  She looked down. “What, because they’re used to it?”

  “No. I don’t date women from Lovely. Listen, I’ll call Sandy and take care of it. I’ll tell her to expect you and you’ll never even have to say my name.”

  Wariness swirled in her hazel eyes.

  “Please do it,” I said, the note of pleading in my tone surprising me. “I’ll be hard all day imagining you picking out panties and a dress just for me.”

  She smiled, her confidence restored. “Alright.”

  I leaned down and kissed her. “See you this evening. Be careful, okay? Keep your phone close.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  I turned to go, deciding not to tell her that was impossible. I wouldn’t allow myself to fall in love with her, but I cared about April. Finding out about her family and spending the night with her had brought us closer.

  Even though I knew I was playing with fire, I couldn’t make myself stop. I was risking my family’s wrath and worse, risking hurting her.

  It was the first time since college that one night of sex hadn’t been enough. I wanted more of April—a lot more, and I was dead set on keeping her safe.

  The cops were doing a piss poor job of looking for Colton, but I was more intent than ever on finding him.

  IVY PICKED ME UP for lunch, and as soon as I slid into her car and closed the door, she turned to me with an impatient look.

  “Do I look okay?” I glanced down at the gray t-shirt I wore under a quilted white coat. The jeans were hers, so I knew those weren’t an issue.

  “Last night,” she said in an exasperated tone. “Talk. I couldn’t sleep last night because I was so excited.”

  “Yeah, I had the same problem,” I said with a laugh.

  “Did you guys sleep together?”

  “Yes. And it was amazing. He makes every other man I’ve been with . . . well, I mean, there were only two, but . . . anyway, he makes them look like fumbling teenagers. He did things to me that . . . well, I’m sure you don’t want the details, but—”

  “The hell I don’t! Why do you think I’m ten minutes early?”

  “He spent at least an hour on my nipples alone. Licking, touching, sucking, biting.”

  “Biting?” Ivy’s expression was a cross between horrified and impressed.

  “God, yes. Right now it would hurt, but when I was really turned on . . . it was incredible.”

  “Are they sore today?”

  “A little, yeah. But I’m sore all over. I used muscles I don’t use every day. Plus, you know, I’m sore . . .” I pointed between my legs.

  “So he’s got the Lockhart size?”

  I nodded. “Apparently. Plus, he did me really hard.” I smiled, still tingling all over. “I’ve never had orgasms like that. Even if he breaks my heart, last night was worth it.”

  “Don’t think that way. What was this morning like? What did he say?”

  “He asked me to come to his house with him today, but I couldn’t. He kissed me and said last night was incredible. And he asked me to go to a fundraiser at a mansion Wednesday night.”

  “Thorncrest? We’re going, too.”

  “Yeah. I’m going to the boutique downtown this afternoon to buy a dress.”

  Ivy’s eyes glittered with happiness. “I’ll come with you and get one, too. I’m buying.”

  “Um . . . about that . . . Mason insisted on buying mine.”

  Ivy’s hearty laugh caught me by surprise. “April. You’re worried this is one-sided? He is obviously completely crazy about you.”

  “We just slept together for the first time,” I looked at my watch, “seven hours ago. The novelty is still fresh.”

  “Stop that,” she said in a scolding tone. “You’re amazing and he’s a genius, so he figured it out quickly.”

  I took a deep breath, breaking out in another wide grin. “Who knows? I just know I’m really happy right now. I’ve been looking for a husband like it was a part-time job for years now, and it feels good to just let go for once and live in the moment.”

  Ivy pulled up in front of a modest bungalow and parked. “This is Miss Dee Dee’s house. Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  We got out of the car and walked up the brick sidewalk to the front door, where Miss Dee Dee was waiting for us.

  “Welcome, girls,” she said, dressed in her trademark black cotton pants and long-sleeve shirt.

  “Thank you so much for the invite,” Ivy said, reaching into her large bag. “We brought you this.”

  It was a bottle of wine in a crafty, homemade looking bag. I was glad Ivy had thought of bringing a gift. I’d been too distracted by Mason to consider it. Miss Dee Dee smiled and thanked her and we stepped inside.

  Her living room had a cream couch and two dark purple chairs, all layered with multicolored throw pillows. I was drawn to a collage of frames on the wall, many holding black and white photos. When I got closer, I focused on one with a lithe, petite ballerina, her blond hair in a tight bun.

  “It’s you,” I said softly. Miss Dee Dee looked like a teenager in the photo, her expression fresh and her eyes set with determination. She was in position at a bar, studying her reflection in a wall mirror.

  “In my much younger days,” she said wryly.

  In some photos she posed with other dancers, her happiness seem
ing to shine through even when she was trying to look somber. She was wispy in all the photos—maybe ninety pounds of solid muscle.

  “These are beautiful,” I said, my gaze landing on a photo of her with a muscular man in a form fitting black outfit, his dark hair combed back with a few stray locks falling on his forehead.

  “That’s Alex,” she said, her tone wistful. “My great love, I suppose.” She cleared her throat. “Lunch is ready if you girls would like to sit down now.”

  She had lunch set up on a round wood table in a bright sunroom on the back of her house. More photos filled the room’s yellow walls, many of a smiling girl with long chestnut hair.

  “You have a real eye for decorating,” Ivy said, admiring the room.

  A large leather recliner with a patchwork quilt thrown over the back sat in one corner. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with hardbacks, paperbacks and trinkets like seashells and unusual rocks. An antique writing desk sat in another corner, the top shelf adorned with more framed photos.

  “Thank you,” Miss Dee Dee said. “I spend most of my time in this room.”

  “I would, too,” I said. “It’s beautiful and very comfortable.”

  She’d made chicken salad, which we ate on croissants with fresh fruit and iced tea. We used sparkling white china that was immaculate and looked expensive.

  “Who’s the little girl in the pictures?” I asked, looking over at one wall.

  Miss Dee Dee’s eyes lit up. “My niece, Ella. She’s the light of my life. She’s attending Oxford right now. I’m so hoping she makes it home for the summer.”

  “She’s gorgeous,” Ivy said. “Does she dance?”

  “No. I taught her when she was younger, but it never stuck. Probably for the best. She’ll be able to have more in her life than I ever did.”

  “Did you travel when you were a dancer?” I asked.

  “All over the world. I got to see cathedrals and castles, and some of the most breathtaking landscapes I’d ever imagined. It was a treat.”

  “Is that how you met Alex? Was he a dancer, too?”

  She nodded. “I joined the company he was in. The moment I danced with him, I felt like we were one instead of two. It was magical.”