Spicy with a Side of Cranberry Sauce

by Rachell Nichole

  “From having sex.”

  “From getting hurt when you realize I can’t do anything more than that.” His voice was so full of shame it took her breath away.

  “Did I give you the impression I wanted more? Was it the thirty seconds of cuddling that did it?”

  He said nothing.

  “That was a joke. You were supposed to laugh.”

  “Sorry. It was funny. Cute, even. I just… I’m still trying to figure all this out, that’s all.”

  “How many times am I going to have to tell you to stop thinking?”

  She took a step closer. So much for not trying to tempt him. She didn’t want to damage his bond with his mom, because it was important. But Martha didn’t know Amy. She didn’t do relationships any more than Mason did, and she was going into this with both eyes wide open. She wasn’t going to get hurt. It was just sex, for crying out loud. When Amy reached out and ran a hand down his thinly covered chest, he gasped, his eyes going a liquid midnight.

  “See. Right there. That look in your eyes tells me you’ve shut off most of your brain. You’ve kept only the most basic, the most important part working. Now get over here.”

  He didn’t hesitate but wrapped his arms around her and pushed his lips tightly against hers. His kiss was rough, demanding. And she relished it. He pulled back, breathing heavily.

  “So I’m not going to have to seduce you this time around?” Amy said.

  He shook his head.

  MASON KNEW IT was wrong. He knew he should have stuck to his guns and moved aside so she could walk out of his room, and his bed, forever. But despite the danger, the guilt, and his reservations, he couldn’t deny his desire for her was stronger. Like a primal force driving him to do things he’d never thought he could.

  She pouted. “And I was so looking forward to it.”

  Well, he had other plans. But he couldn’t form the words to speak. He lifted her in his arms and laid her back on the bed. She slid up the length of the bed, her head resting on his pillows.

  “But this certainly doesn’t suck,” she whispered as he pulled her right leg onto his lap and started a slow assault on her calf. “Ooh, that’s wonderful.” He pushed his fingers deeper into her skin, and she moaned. He savored the sound.

  He still couldn’t speak, couldn’t put into words that he needed her more than he needed to be careful. So he continued his massage up the back of her leg to the back of her thigh and then down to her foot. When he pressed his fingers into the arch of her foot, she squirmed against him.

  “Oh, you’re not ticklish, are you?” he said, an evil idea taking root.

  “Don’t. You. Dare. If you think I have a hard time staying quiet while your body’s pounding into mine, you do not want to see what happens when I get tickled.”

  Yes, he did. He ran the top of his short fingernail against the sole of her foot, and she squealed, then clamped her mouth shut. He could have so much fun with this. A soft, sensual assault. That was what he needed. What they both needed. She tried to yank her foot from his grasp.

  “Shh,” he said.

  “Oh, God. You’re going to get us both killed.”

  He grinned, and she bit her lower lip, her whole body tensing. He waited, holding her on the edge of anticipation. She nodded, and he turned his attention back to her foot, amazed by her trust in him even after he’d shown her he didn’t deserve it. But he was committed now. As much as he could be. No matter what happened with his mother, he wouldn’t push Amy away again. He couldn’t. And he didn’t want to examine his consuming need to be with her too closely, because she was right. The more he thought, the more conflicted he would get.

  He circled the bottom of her big toe with his pinkie, and she jerked against his hold. But she remained silent. Her eyes rolled back as he released her foot and slid his fingers around and around her legs, just above her knees. She wriggled and groaned, her breasts swaying with each movement. Desire coursed through him. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to tease her before he was ripping her clothes off and sinking himself deep.

  He lifted her legs, caressing the backs of her knees, and she whimpered. She reached her hands above her head and grabbed on to the post she’d held earlier while he slammed into her from behind. With each squirm and delightful whispered squeal, his erection grew. Blood rushed to her face, flushing her skin as he moved his fingers from her legs to her hips.

  He lifted the fabric of the tank top so it only covered her breasts, leaving her sides and belly bare to his roving fingers. He traced the edges of her belly button with his index finger, and her skin jumped as the breath slammed from her lungs.

  “You’re evil. You know that, right?” She panted between each word as he glided the tips of his middle fingers up either side of her rib cage.

  “Yes, and you’re enjoying every minute of it.”

  Her mouth stayed open as she breathed in and out hard. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated. Her skin pebbled with goose bumps, a light sheen of sweat covering her as she strained to keep still and quiet beneath his touch. He’d never felt so dominating and so out of control at the same time. It left him panting and exhilarated.

  She moaned as he brushed along the front of her breasts.

  “You’re going to have to stop soon,” she said.

  He could tell she was close. So was he. He’d need to make them both cool down again before he slid into her, or it would be over much too quickly.

  “Lift your hips,” he said. When she complied, he dipped his fingers into the waistband of her shorts and underwear, slid them over her hips and down her legs, and tossed them off the bed. He gazed down at her flushed body, and she stilled. She was beautiful like this. Lost to the passion between them, held on the edge of release. Trusting him to give her what she needed in the end and embracing the moment. Her light hair fanned out around her head against his pillows, falling across her arms with every toss of her head. Her hazel eyes were dark with passion.

  When he bent his head and blew soft air against her belly button, she moaned. God, how he needed this. Turning her head to the side, she buried her face in her bicep. But she let him spread her thighs wider.

  He couldn’t give her what she deserved—a man to be open with her. A man to celebrate holidays with and give her everything. But this—this he could do. He could drive them both so wild with passion that tomorrow really didn’t matter. And that would have to be enough.

  Amy wriggled in his grasp until he slid his fingers against her folds and spread them as well. Her body tensed as he tickled her with his breath, and she arched off the bed when he licked her clit. A muffled scream broke through the seal she had on her mouth. He kissed her folds gently, opening his mouth against her and sucking. She squirmed and cried out. He stopped until her body stilled once more beneath his, then looked up to see her biting her arm.

  “You’re killing me. Please.” Her voice was barely a whisper. He shook his head against her thigh, grazing her creamy peach skin with the stubble from his cheek. Her muscles tightened, and she slumped back against the pillows, trying to relax. He laid his cheek on her leg and blew cool air across her soft blonde curls. She whimpered, and he massaged his fingers down her thighs, spreading her legs wider as he went. Her feet came off the bed, her knees bent, her thighs open to him until the outsides of her legs almost reached the mattress. He held her thighs tightly in his hands and dipped his head once more.

  He brought her back to the edge within a moment, her muscles quivering beneath his fingers as he licked and rubbed her clit with his tongue and mouth. She stilled, and he pulled his head up. She groaned.

  “Mason… God, please. Please. I need more.”

  Pride sprang in his chest as she begged him. Amy didn’t beg anyone; he was sure. She was so damned stubborn. But he’d pushed her past that point of control, into the place where passion consumed everything and left her quivering with need. He was right there with her.

  Amy’s hips thrust up, but there was nothi
ng except air for her to reach. He pulled his pants and boxers off. Then his shirt. He was harder than he’d ever been. He snatched a condom from the drawer as Amy continued writhing against the mattress. She lowered her legs, and her hand slipped between her thighs. He grabbed it.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said. She yanked her wrist from his grip and sat up. “Lie back, baby. We’re almost done.”

  She swallowed hard and lay back against the pillows, trust plain in her eyes.

  “Deep breaths,” he said. She nodded and licked her lips. He kissed her lightly. When she reached for him, he threaded his fingers between hers and pushed their entwined hands into the pillows above her head. He lay between her thighs, and she sighed.

  She bent her left leg, thrusting against him, and moaned. She closed her eyes, tilted her hips, and he slid slowly into her. Opening her mouth in a silent scream, she tried to move against him. But he pinned her with the weight of his lower body, his pelvis tight against her. When she looked up at him, he shook his head.

  “Slow, remember? I told you that one day we would do this properly. Slowly.”

  Yes. She mouthed the word.

  She stopped all movement, just letting him lie against and inside her. She stared into his eyes and covered her teeth with her lips, tightening her sheath around him.

  “You have to relax, honey. Or it’s going to be over too soon.”

  “I know. I do. It’s just…”

  “Me too. But we’ve had two quickies. This one is going to last, damn it. Even if it kills us both.” Besides, he needed to use his body to apologize to her. To make her believe he understood her ultimatum and wouldn’t be going back on his word.

  She laughed, and the movement vibrated through him, almost undoing him.

  “Count with me,” he said.

  Her eyes widened, but she opened her mouth and said, “One.”

  “Two,” he said. He waited, holding still as they counted. One second after another. One breath to the next. Until he could feel her body relax fully, until her breathing slowed. They reached forty. Then he moved, inching back and pausing for a beat, then sliding back into her. She lay still beneath his assault, her body melting against his. When he reached in as far as he could, he waited a breath and then started the process all over again.

  Within seconds, they were both breathing hard. He forced the slow rhythm until he couldn’t stand it and she was whimpering beneath him.

  “Shh. Baby, you have to be quiet.”

  “I can’t,” she squealed.

  He covered her mouth with his and pounded into her. The orgasm slammed through his balls and clenched his body. She bit hard into his lower lip as she came apart around him. The orgasm pulled him down, wringing every ounce of strength he had and leaving him lying exhausted between her legs. She released his bottom lip and licked along it, taking the sting away. She unclenched her fingers from his and laid his hands beside hers on the pillow. He couldn’t move more than that.

  She reached up and caressed his hair. He smiled and rested his cheek against her still-covered chest and listened to the sound of her beating heart. Exhausted, he finally closed his eyes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Mason,” Amy whispered. She shook his shoulders lightly. “Wake up.” He stirred against her and placed a soft kiss between her breasts.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I fell asleep.”

  She was pretty sure she had too, at least for a few seconds. Intense orgasms did that to a girl. He groaned and pushed himself up on his arms, pulling out of her at the same time. She quivered at the touch, sore, still overly sensitized, and more weightless and at ease than she’d ever been. He slid the condom off and grabbed a tissue. After wrapping it up, he threw it in the garbage.

  She couldn’t believe how long he’d tortured her. And how much she’d enjoyed it. Foreplay had never really been missing from her sexual relationships, but it’d never been so exquisite. No one had tickled her or brought her so close to orgasm so many times while denying her release. The aftermath, when she was finally able to come, was unlike anything else.

  He cleaned himself with a tissue, and his breath hissed out from between his teeth. He handed her a clean tissue, and as she swiped it between her legs, her whole body tensed. She understood his reaction to touch. Every movement brought a delicious rush of soreness and a new flush of pleasure.

  “You okay?”

  “Mmhmm,” she said as she rubbed the softness against her clit. She moaned, her body spasming again and again as a second orgasm crashed through her. He reached over and pulled her into his arms.

  “Shh, it’s okay. Let it,” he whispered and pressed his lips against hers.

  Her body continued to clench and unclench as he kissed her deeply. He ran his hand down her side, massaging her ass as her muscles finally released her.

  She rested her head against his bicep. “That’s never happened to me before.”

  “What, the one-touch orgasm?”

  His voice was amused. Arrogant. And he had every right to be. She shook her head. “Or even two that close together. I didn’t know I could do that. Or how incredible and almost terrible it could feel.”

  His hand moved from behind her to between them. Her whole body buzzed with sensation.

  “Want to try to break the record with three?”

  No. Yes. She bit her lip. She honestly had no idea. He didn’t touch her, but his hand hovered just above her mound. She wanted to, but two had been so intense she didn’t know if she could handle another one. She nodded just slightly against his arm, and a smile spread across his face. He cupped her mound, and she squealed at the touch.

  “I can’t do it if you’re going to scream,” he said. His hand didn’t move, just held the heat against her. This might honestly kill her.

  “Okay,” she said, then clenched her mouth shut, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “I’m not going to move my hand. I’m going to hold it here. Right here.” He pushed against her, and she almost exploded. But he held her back from the edge, not pushing hard enough to help her find release. She ground herself against his hand. He didn’t move but didn’t stop her either. So she moved again. And again. His middle finger slipped inside her on her next thrust, and she closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation. He leaned his head forward and licked her lips.

  “Kiss me,” he whispered.

  She opened her mouth to him as she thrust against his palm. When a second finger pushed inside her, the orgasm consumed her body, and she screamed long and loud into his mouth. He muffled the scream by plunging his tongue deep, kissing her wildly. When her body stopped shaking, she broke the kiss and rested her head on his bicep again. He wrapped his arms around her, and she snuggled tightly against him.

  Yes, this was cuddling.

  “What time is it?” Mason said.

  “Almost one.”

  “Jeez, woman. You’re going to be the death of me. Mom will have you up in four hours to go shopping.”

  That meant she had to get out of this bed and back into her room. But the thought of moving made her queasy.

  “I’ll set the alarm. You can sneak back in a few hours.”

  “You read my mind.”

  He grinned and then reached behind him to set the alarm. “Four o’clock okay?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He turned back to hold her. She sighed. Mason leaned in to kiss her nose, and she closed her eyes.

  “We’re both going to need a nap tomorrow,” he said.

  She couldn’t muster enough energy to reply.

  * * * *

  I’m sleeping with your son. Amy wanted to blurt the words out loud as she stood staring at Martha in the middle of the crowded mall. Black Friday shopping was actually proving to be fun. They’d had a really good morning finding sales and laughing, and for the first time in a while, Amy realized how much she’d missed out on as a kid without her mother. She forced herself back into the present, shutting the door o
n the thoughts of lost opportunities.

  Martha was so open with her affection, sharing stories of being in the classroom for over twenty years. Amy could learn a lot from such a seasoned teacher. With each passing moment, dark guilt ate away at her.

  “What do you think of this one?” Martha said, holding up a dress Amy never would have picked up. “It’s for Elly.”

  “It’s beautiful. You have great taste,” Amy said as she gazed at the red wrap dress. It was like the teal one Martha had insisted she borrow Wednesday night.

  “What size are you? You look about the same height as Elly. Would you be a doll and try it on for me?”

  “I’m a ten. And sure. No problem.” Amy held out her hand, clamping her mouth shut on what she really wanted to say. After Martha handed her the right dress, Amy turned without another word and escaped into the dressing room. She wasn’t used to spending so much time with another woman, and she’d never been a big shopper. But Martha made it such fun that Amy forgot she’d never felt comfortable in the middle of a department store. Too many years trying to shop with her dad had scarred her. His was a get-in-and-get-out-with-as-little-hassle-as-possible process.

  But today, taking her time with Martha, was amazing. Amy yearned to explain to Martha that she didn’t have anything to worry about. Amy’s virtue was safe. Mason was no plundering rake as his mother feared, and Amy was no doe-eyed virgin looking for the man of her dreams. But it wasn’t her place to interfere.

  The way Dad had watched her and Mason at the breakfast table that morning convinced her he knew something was going on between them. But he hadn’t commented, and Martha remained oblivious.

  “How’s it look?” Martha called.

  Amy barely had her clothes off. “I haven’t gotten it on yet.”

  “Honey, you are seriously out of practice with this whole shopping thing, aren’t you? You should have been in the dress and out here by now. Do you need some help?”

  Amy laughed, despite the sadness that she hadn’t been able to shake all day. “No, I’m fine. I’ll be out in just a minute.” She tossed her clothes to the floor and undid the dress. The only reason she knew how to open it properly was because Martha had shown her Wednesday.