by Tina Holland
“I’m hoping there’s some in you, too.” He winked at her.
“Not the kind you’re hoping for.”
How was a girl supposed to get her bearings? Peter was right about some of the things he said. Did he have to be so sure? Peter was the type of man Sydney avoided in the past. Men who think they’re right don’t like to be contradicted. Why he insisted on provoking her, she didn’t know. Maybe that’s why she was fascinated by Peter. He didn’t fit the mold Sydney was accustomed to. It might explain why she wanted him, which begged the question, why deny herself? There was no reason for her heart to get involved. It was much too early anyway. Perhaps there was still time to seize this delicious opportunity.
“Sydney, we’re here. Are you ready?” Sydney peeked up at Peter as he opened the door and offered her his hand.
“More than you know.” She accepted his hand.
* * * *
Peter wasn’t sure if this was the right woman. She was vivacious and laughing and seemed fascinated by him.
“So explain more about this air-racing thing. How do you know who wins?” She asked pointing her salad fork at him.
“It’s based on time. Whoever completes in the fastest time from point A to B.”
“Do you race together?”
“Sometimes, but that’s more for exhibition.”
“You seem like an exhibitionist," she commented with a smile.
Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe it was food. Or maybe it was his money. Doubtful; if that were the case, she would’ve been impressed sooner. He couldn’t resist, “Where’s the girl I asked out?”
“Right here," she stated.
“I’m not so sure. I could’ve sworn that girl didn’t giggle.”
“Then why did you ask her out?”
“I’m attracted to her.”
“She’s attracted to you, too,” Sydney flirted
He hadn’t expected this. Part of him wanted her to be cool so he could get through the evening; the other wanted to run out of here to the nearest haven they could find. When he looked at her, his mouth watered; Peter wanted to taste her skin and see if blushes had a flavor of their own. Sydney was stunning. He didn’t mind her independent, ice-princess routine. As soon as she laid on the charm, Peter became a slave to his own libido. “Would you like to dance?”
“If you don’t mind your toes being stepped on.”
“Why should you mind stepping on my toes? It hasn’t stopped you so far.”
“I’m telling you, I was born with two-left feet.”
“It’s a slow song.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Accepted.”
Once Peter embraced Sydney on the dance floor, things got worse. He could feel her breasts against him, and smell her scent. It was intoxicating. They swayed with the music. Her hips were in tune with his. All Peter could think about was how well she fit against him. “I think your left feet are doing fine.”
“Well, this isn’t what I would call dancing. I was expecting something different.”
“It could be.” He whispered into her ear.
“Don’t excite a girl, Mr. Kane,” she breathed against his lips.
Peter stared into her eyes and he could see the dare. He put his hand on the back of her neck, bent his head and sealed their fate.
Sydney’s lips were soft against his and her body formed closer to his own. Her hands wound their way around the back of his neck, and she clung to him. His hands massaged her hips and then roamed back to cup and draw her against him. She opened her mouth, and he wanted more. Syd tasted like honey. Peter moved his hand up the length of her arm. The strap of the dress slipped from her shoulder. She broke away.
It was like having a bucket of ice dumped on him. Peter hadn’t realized how much he needed her until she tugged back. Sydney adjusted the fallen strap and appeared ready to bolt.
He locked his arms around her. “Don’t go.”
“I don’t know what happened.”
“I do. I got carried away. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I think I’m fine now.”
“All right.” Peter loosened his hands, relieved that Sydney would not leave him.
“Peter.”
“Yes.”
“You can kiss me again.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. You see, I’d rather share a more intimate dance.”
“So would I.”
“Are you sure?” Peter didn’t think he would be able to handle it if she cast him off at the last minute.
“Very.”
“Do you mind if we get a room in the hotel? I don’t think I can wait.” Peter knew he wasn’t playing fair. He didn’t care. He wanted Sydney any way he could have her.
“I can’t either.” She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her, “Now kiss me.”
* * * *
The half-hour spent checking into the hotel was a distant blur as Sydney felt Peter’s weight pushing her against the wall of their room. Moment’s earlier, he struggled getting the card key to work. She giggled at the memory
“I thought we’d never get in here,” Peter said, kissing her neck as he shrugged out of his jacket.
“Less talking, more kissing,” Sydney muttered, catching his coat and throwing it to the chair across the room. It missed and hit a lampshade before dropping to the floor.
He lifted her leg and, gazing down, saw those stockings and all but expired on the spot. “You were killing me in these,” he said as he touched the soft lace against her skin.
Her skin burned at his touch, and she moaned. Peter was mesmerized. Her head lolled back, and he moved his hand higher, skimming his knuckles over the rim of her panties. Her hips arched towards him. “Peter.”
Her voice sounded like a siren calling him to the rocks. Peter couldn’t control his actions. He ran his thumb under her panties as he prepared to remove them. “Sydney? These need to come off.”
“Yes.”
Peter went to his knees, like a man searching for water in the desert and found it. He lifted Sydney’s dress and pulled down the barrier between them. Her scent filled his nostrils, and he was tempted to taste her sweetness. There will be time later. He looked his fill, the curls were trimmed and a darker shade of blonde than what was on her pretty little head. “You’re beautiful.”
Sydney moaned. Peter cupped her in response, and she shifted her hips towards his hand. He inserted his middle finger inside the delicate opening. She was ready for him, but Peter didn’t want to rush this. He wanted this to burn into her memory. He tested the slippery softness of her, inserting his finger into her heat. His thumb managed to find her clit and rub lightly.
Sydney leaned against the wall, falling into Peter’s hands. He was working magic with one hand running his finger back and forth along her opening, meeting his thumb. When the thumb massaged her clit, his middle finger would thrust into her core. “Peter.”
“Yes.”
“Put in two.”
No answer
“Please," she begged by rubbing against him.
Peter came up and kissed her, answering her rhythm again, with two fingers. Sydney let out a gasp of unexpected pleasure. Peter lifted his head. “Okay?”
“Better.”
Peter could feel her melting.
“I want to feel your skin against mine," she whispered as her fingers worked urgently on the buttons of his shirt. After undoing the final button, she slipped it over his shoulders and stopped. Sydney reached a quandary. In order to get the shirt off, Peter would have to move his hands, and his hands were wonderful right where they were. Peter’s hand was performing a dance delicately across her folds, and the other was at her back, supporting her.
“It’s all right, sweetheart.” His voice caressed her skin as he licked the salt from her neck. “We’ll get there.”
Sydney relaxed and knew there was no need to rush forward into the night. They had hours before the sun would co
me up. She felt Peter’s hand move to the backside of her dress. She was pressed so tight against the wall that she felt the metal zipper caress her back on the way down. Peter continued performing that phenomenal dance, thrusting his fingers into her until the zipper reached the bottom…
Peter watched Sydney’s breathing increase; she continued to curve against him. He lifted his hand up to work the dress off her shoulders. He managed to release her arms but her breasts worked in opposition, holding up the material as she continued to meet his thrusting fingers and mold toward his body.
“Put your back on the wall, gorgeous.”
Sydney complied, and the dress fell to rest on her hips.
“Oh, my God," Peter spoke in awe. He stared at the most spectacular twin orbs he’d ever laid eyes on. “They’re perfect.” Peter probed Sydney’s eyes. She seemed surprised he’d spoken so. “I’ve never seen anything more spectacular,” he reassured her. “Sydney?”
“Hmm?” She was so close. His words were going to push her over the edge.
“I need to stop.”
Her questioning gaze seemed underlined with slight hurt as he stopped working his fingers inside her. She felt him pull his hand away. Sydney slowly regained balance and reality. Why did he stop? What was wrong? Was it her? “Peter?”
Before she could think of how to broach the subject of his absence, he was kissing her again. Both his hands were on her shoulders and running up into her tresses. Peter’s hands moved down her neck to gently knead and stroke her breasts. He cupped them and began to stroke each nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It never occurred to Sydney her breasts could ache with desire, yet they did. She didn’t want Peter to stop this new torture.
“You are so stunning, it is impossible not to touch all of you.” And it was. He cradled her breasts and massaged the pink tips until they were swollen. Peter couldn’t remember a single woman who had let him fondle her breasts and enjoyed it with him. “Tell me you like it.”
“I like it,” Sydney moaned with a sigh.
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you.” She began to loosen his belt.
“I want you, too.”
Sydney removed his belt and aimed again for the chair, this time overshooting it, and the belt clicked against the window before it fell.
“Slow down, darling.” He glided his hands over her waist, grabbing her dress and sliding it down her legs to puddle at the floor. He carefully picked up the dress with one hand and hung it on the closet door within reach. Soon, his other hand glided back up her legs. As he turned back to her, he came face to face with her sex. She glistened. He couldn’t resist. He tenderly parted her thighs. Just a little taste. He swept his tongue over her. Sydney’s moan encouraged him. He twirled it around her clit until he felt it harden. Her hands rubbed the back of his head, and he flicked his tongue over her once again before continuing to climb up. He kissed her navel. And when he reached the sister peaks, he twirled his tongue around each and continued up the valley towards her neck. He whispered against her ear. “You are so sexy.”
When he kissed her, Sydney could taste herself on his lips. It was stimulating. She wound her hands around his neck.
“Are you ready?” Peter asked one last time
“Oh, yes.”
Peter reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. Sydney watched in fascination as he pulled out a foil packet. She reached down to finish undoing his pants and noticed that, as the zipper came down, his cock sprang out. She could feel his hardness against her, and she rubbed herself against him.
“Syd!” he gasped. “Don’t, or I won’t make it, sweetie.”
“Sorry. I want you so bad.”
Peter paused in surprise at her confession. He opened the foil packet and was about to remove the contents when Sydney’s hand stopped his wrist. “Let me.”
Peter gave her the packet, and she removed the condom. The wrapper sailed out of her fingers. He felt her finger caressing him as the latex covered the tip of him. One hand moved in front of the latex as the other rolled the sheath over him. He never knew putting on a rubber could be foreplay. When she completed the slow, torturous process, he put his hands under her buttocks and lifted her onto his straining erection. He couldn’t help it. Peter thrust all the way into Sydney’s warmth as he pushed her back to the wall. He could feel her fingers clutching at his neck. “Lover, I can’t be gentle. Not this time. I need this too much.” His voice was strained.
“I know," she replied, wrapping her legs around him and holding on.
Her surrender to his overpowering passion was Peter’s undoing. He thrust into her wetness with unrestricted desire. Sydney fit herself over him like a glove and cried out against his neck as she neared the pinnacle moment. When she climaxed, the spasms within her sent Peter over the edge, and he roared out and claimed her.
Peter managed to hold Sydney as his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor. Lying back on the rug, his shirt was unbuttoned, his boxers still on, and his pants wrapped around his ankles. It would be comical if not for the woman in silk stockings sprawled across him like a blanket. Life was good.
* * * *
Sydney woke from a satiated sleep. She glanced down at the lover, a new one added to the small list. Peter was now at the top. It was hard to make love and leave. Make love. Sydney sighed. Last night, they managed to pull themselves off the floor and jump into the shower. He washed her hair and commented how she could tip him for shampoo-service. She laughed, and Peter grabbed her and kissed her. “Do you know how irresistible you are?” he’d asked.
Sydney stared down at her feet, “No.”
“Yes, you do. Let’s get out of here. I can’t take you in the shower. I’ll injure myself.” His grin was infectious.
So they made love on the bed, with her on top and Peter’s hands on her hips. She could all but feel the indentations his fingers marked on her skin. Peter said she was beautiful. His love-words spurred her on. She never felt so uninhibited. This man made her the naughty girl in bed, as if she felt a need to compete with his past. He hadn't talked about it. Sydney guessed with his good looks and charm there was a long line of beautiful women in his past. It would be hard to stand out in that line-up.
But why should she want to stand out? She didn’t want something long-term, just a one-night stand; that was the plan. Maybe a fling over the summer? She could handle sex like this all summer. It would help her move past Lance.
Lance. She hadn’t thought about him once, the whole evening. Maybe that was a sign that she could move on. She didn’t have to wait for him.
In fact, Peter could help her move into the role of single, dating and having really good sex. She liked that idea. She could date Peter. He would want to move on by fall anyway. Sydney knew Peter was not the type of man to settle down, which was fine; she wasn’t the type of lady who needed a man in her life anyway.
It was the perfect plan. In order to keep it perfect, Sydney didn’t want Peter to get the impression that she wanted something more. With that in mind, she quietly moved about the room collecting her things. Each item she picked up brought a wave of memories. She couldn’t find her stockings after searching under the bed. Sydney stared while Peter slept. Even in sleep, his lips were sensual. Sydney placed a feather-light kiss upon them before she tiptoed from the room. As she closed the door, part of her regretted this relationship couldn’t be permanent.
Chapter 6
Peter could feel the sunshine pouring in on his face. He reached across the bed. Making love to Sydney was his first idea until his hand grasped thin air. His eyes opened and he turned his head. Maybe she was in the bathroom. “Syd?”
No answer.
He hadn’t truly expected one. Why did she leave? He checked the clock. It was nine. Relief flooded through him; Sydney probably had to work this morning. He could use a cup of coffee. He planned on having coffee in bed, although if he got to see Sydney at the Starving Artist, that was fine, too. He wh
istled as he walked to the bathroom. As he turned on the water, he couldn’t help but remember the last time he was in this shower with Sydney. He turned the valve to cold.
Peter was surprised to see the coffee shop wasn’t open yet. He peered in the window and saw the same annoying brunette behind the counter. “Is Sydney here?” he asked when the door was opened.
“She’s upstairs. Peter, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You can go up,” she said. “It’s unlocked.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He headed up the stairs, two at a time. Peter was surprised to find no one in the loft; he'd expected to find Sydney. Looking to the door of her bedroom, Peter felt compelled to walk towards it. He reached the room, pausing with his hand on the handle. Should he go in? This closed area was her private space. He already knew Sydney intimately and couldn’t see how this would be an invasion. When he opened the door and peered into the room, he saw Sydney passed out on the bed, sleeping! Peter felt frustrated. Why did she come home? She could’ve slept at the hotel, and then he would have been able to wake her with pleasure. “Sydney?”
He walked towards the bed. Sitting down, Peter spoke again. “Sydney, honey, you have to wake up.” He quietly stirred her by the shoulders.
“Hmmm.” Sydney stretched her arms overhead and opened her eyes. He was disappointed when her arms came out, and she wore a long T-shirt. Her eyes widened. He’d surprised her. “Peter? What are you doing here?”
“Why did you leave?” he asked
“Why I left? That’s why you’re here?”
“Yes. Imagine my disappointment waking up alone. I wanted to wake you with kisses.” Peter leaned down to demonstrate his intentions.
“Stop.” Sydney put up her hands to block him.
“Why?”
“My brother and sister are here, and I don’t want Patrick walking in here at the moment.”
“Okay.” Peter didn’t bother to disguise his displeasure.
“Don’t be that way. Tell you what, why don’t you step out for a minute while I get changed.”
“Why do I have to step out?” he asked, confused.