Good With His Hands

by Lauren Blakely

  “You do,” she gasps, writhing into my hand, sinking onto her back now, letting herself enjoy me.

  I love that. Love that she’s taking right now, spreading her legs, letting me make her feel good.

  This woman deserves everything good in the world.

  From me.

  That’s what I give her as I listen to her cues, follow her moans, teasing then rubbing her clit as I kiss her neck, bite her shoulder.

  I devote myself to her pleasure until she’s arching into my hand, grabbing at my hair, rocking her hips. Wildly. Freely. Like this is what she needs more than anything.

  A myriad of sounds falls from her lips. Sexy, beautiful sounds.

  My name.

  God’s name.

  A moan.

  A yes, God yes, oh my God, yes.

  Then she breaks, her lips parting in a silent O that doesn’t stay silent for long, that turns into a gorgeous cry of pleasure.

  As she comes on my hand.

  Her moan sends a shiver down my spine. Then her words light me up. “Jesse . . . that was amazing.”

  And I am lost in a haze of desire for Ruby.

  And something more.

  Something that feels a lot like falling.

  But I shove that dangerous thought out of my head as I kiss her cheek then make my way to her ear.

  “Should we see if we’re good in bed too?”

  She shoots me a giddy grin. “I bet we are.”

  I reach for a condom on the nightstand. “Got a favorite position?”

  She shakes her head. “It’s been like ten thousand years. I’m not even sure what the positions are anymore.”

  I laugh as I open the foil. “Then how about you ride me. Because then I can have my hands all over you.”

  “Consider it done,” she says.

  I cover myself and she straddles me.

  “The parts still go like this?” she asks with a laugh as she reaches for my dick.

  “I think so, but let’s try a few times to make sure.”

  But I’m not laughing when she wraps a hand around my shaft because holy fuuuuckkkk.

  She rises up, holds my cock, then says, “Like riding a bike?”

  “Yes, but so much better, sweetheart. So much better,” I say, groaning as she lowers herself.

  Slowly, beautifully.

  It’s exquisite torture and I want the agony of this moment as Ruby takes me in all the way.

  A shudder moves through her body, a gorgeous wave of pleasure.

  Her eyes float closed. Her lips part.

  Pleasure roars through me from the hot, tight feel of her. She grips my cock so deliciously it’s like she was made for me.

  Which is precisely what I can’t be thinking.

  So, I focus on the physical.

  And that’s no hardship.

  I wrap my hands around her hips, gripping her as she moves, slow and lush, on my cock.

  She moans and her fingers slide down her breasts, like she’s so wrapped up in the feel of us fucking that she has to touch herself.

  “Jesse,” she murmurs, then slinks closer, setting her hands on my chest.

  “Feels so damn good, doesn’t it?”

  She nods, letting out a long, gorgeous breath as if she can barely take how amazing it feels.

  And it is amazing being inside this woman.

  This incredible woman who makes my pulse spike and my heart beat faster.

  Who makes me think. Who makes me feel.

  Who make me want so many risky things.

  I slide my hands along her waist, savoring the feel of her soft skin, cupping her breasts as she swivels her hips.

  I squeeze her tits and she yelps, a sexy groan that tells me she likes it. So I do it again.

  She groans more, her hands pressing harder against my chest as she rocks up and down on my cock.

  My Ruby loves to have her tits played with.

  Loves to be savored.

  Loves to set the pace.

  I record all these details about her as I watch her find a rhythm, chase her pleasure, and sway closer and closer to me.

  Soon, she’s inches from my mouth, and I have to let go of her tits.

  Shame, that.

  But there’s this gorgeous ass to hold on to and I grip it, grabbing her tight as I move her faster on my cock.

  “Want you to come again. I love seeing you let go,” I say, urging her on.

  “Oh God, I want to,” she murmurs, and she sounds lost in pleasure. Absolutely lost, with no interest in being found.

  All I want is her bliss.

  Her happiness. Her joy.

  Because she’s the woman I’ve been dreaming of.

  She’s the inevitable.

  That’s the trouble. As she fucks me, and I fuck her back, I’m both caught up in the moment and keenly aware that time is slipping away. That my chance with Ruby is ending any day.

  That this is more than friends with benefits.

  So much more.

  But I let all those feelings fade away as Ruby rides me to the edge, crying out, babbling and panting and calling my name as she comes once again on me.

  Her whole body trembles, and that’s all I need to chase her and fall with her.

  Seems that’s what I’ve been doing since we started this thing.

  Falling into her.

  15

  Ruby

  I wake feeling bubbly and delicious and open my eyes, grinning up at an unfamiliar ceiling fan.

  For a beat, I’m not sure where I am, but then I turn my head to see the gorgeous man asleep on the pillow beside me and it all comes rushing back—the kissing, the best sex in the history of sex, and falling asleep in Jesse’s arms, finally understanding why people are obsessed with getting it on.

  I’ve always enjoyed sex, don’t get me wrong, but last night was next-level nookie.

  A ground-breaking, earth-shattering, paradigm-shifting, angels-singing-the-hallelujah-orgasm-chorus experience that has left me forever changed.

  And so giddy it’s ridiculous.

  I bite my lip, stifling the celebratory sound rising in my throat. Squealing Jesse awake isn’t the way I want to start our “morning after” together. I’d much rather surprise him with French toast and coffee in bed and get creative with the maple syrup after.

  The thought of licking maple syrup from Jesse’s lips before dribbling it over more intimate places—his cock is by far the best cock in the history of cocks, and I will be drawing racy pictures of it at my first opportunity—is almost enough to get me out of bed. But the covers are so soft, and the cool air from the fan puffing against my face is so soothing, and Jesse is so pretty when he’s sleeping.

  So, so pretty . . .

  I curl my arm under my head, soaking in every detail of his full lips, the thick eyelashes fanned out over his tan cheeks, the tousled hair falling over his forehead, and I decide I’ll paint him like this too.

  I’m reaching out to tuck a rogue lock behind his ear when his eyes suddenly open wide and he whispers, “Boo,” making my heart jerk in my chest as I start to laugh.

  “Shoot, you scared me,” I say in a rush, giggling as he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close, making my nipples tighten through the old T-shirt of his I threw on to sleep in. “How long have you been awake?”

  “A while,” he says, reaching down to cup my ass through my panties with a happy rumble low in his throat. “I was watching you sleep first and thinking about waking you up, but it was only five thirty, so . . .”

  “You can wake me at five thirty,” I say, but I bring my hand to hover in front of my mouth as he leans his face closer to mine. “But no kissing with my morning sex. Not unless I get to brush first.”

  He makes a scoffing sound as his fingers slip beneath the elastic of my panties. “No kissing at all?” He traces a gentle line from my already wet center to my clit, making my breath catch and a wave of desire jolt to life in me. “What about here?” he adds in a sexy voice th
at contributes to my undoing. “Because I’m all about you coming on my mouth first thing in the morning.”

  I make a sound somewhere between a sigh of approval and a whimper of longing, and Jesse is immediately on the move.

  Before I have time to add that I’d love to get my mouth on certain parts of him—preferably with syrup involved—his hands are at the bottom of my T-shirt, pulling it up over my head. I emerge from the fabric, shoving my hair from my face in time to see Jesse hooking his long fingers into the top of my panties and drawing them down my legs.

  He looks up at me from the bottom of the bed, the hunger in his gaze as he presses a kiss to my ankle making my heart swoop and my stomach bottom out.

  Good Lord, he’s sexy.

  The sexiest thing that’s ever happened to me.

  “Spread your legs,” he murmurs against my skin as he kisses his way to my knee, sending shivers of arousal to every inch of my body. “I want to see you.”

  I obey, holding his gaze as I draw my thighs apart, biting my lip as his eyes go dark.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says. He reaches up, dragging his thumb down the center of where I’m so ready for him as he kisses my thigh. “I love how wet you get for me.”

  My breath shudders out, my nipples tightening as he smooths his palms up and over my hips, past my ribs, to cup my breasts in his big hands while he continues to kiss and nibble at my thighs, first one and then the other, building the ache coiling in my center.

  I want him to kiss me there so badly, but I also love this sweet torture—these moments when the anticipation is so intense it sharpens every sensation, every brush of his lips and delicious drag of his teeth over my skin. Every teasing stroke of his fingers close to my pebbled nipples.

  “Please.” I run my fingers through his hair, skimming my nails down the back of his neck.

  “Please what?” His fingertips circle my breast, so close to where I ache but not close enough.

  I arch into his hands. “Touch me.”

  “Where?” The smile in his voice makes me want to punch him a little, but also makes me laugh as I breathe, “My nipples.”

  He captures my tight tips between his fingers, rolling them in circles, the delicious friction making me squirm beneath him as he asks, “Where else? Where do you want my mouth, Ruby?”

  My teeth dig into my bottom lip, my head falls back, and my eyes slide closed. “Where do you want your mouth?” I counter, my thighs shifting restlessly on either side of his ribs as he presses a kiss to my swooping belly.

  “I want my tongue buried in your hot pussy, but I want to hear you say it.”

  The words send a thrill shooting through me that’s every bit as fierce as the sizzle summoned by his touch.

  “Test your limits, sweetheart.”

  Eyes opening, I glance down the landscape of my own body, the sight of his hands on my breasts and the hunger in his eyes making me feel beautiful, powerful, bold enough to say, “I told you I wanted to ride you last night. I told you I wanted to sleep with you. I’m not afraid to tell you what I want.”

  He arches a challenging brow. “No?”

  “No,” I say, my pulse speeding as I add, “So, telling you I want your mouth between my legs more than I want to breathe right now won’t count as testing my limits.”

  Damn, that feels good to say.

  Great, actually.

  Turns out saying what I want is not simply a turn-on, but it’s remarkably easy with this man—this man who’s my friend and my temporary lover.

  It’s not testing my limits because it’s easy.

  And I’ll take easy right now, thank you very much.

  His eyes narrow playfully. “Well, if it won’t count for the list, is it really worth doing?”

  I smile down at him, a wicked grin that feels just right on my face. “Maybe not. Maybe we should get out of bed, have breakfast, and be about our list-y business. No pussy-kissing or dick-kissing. Do not pass go; do not collect any orgasms.”

  He kisses my hip as he murmurs against my skin, “But I really like passing go and collecting orgasms. Maybe the list can wait a few minutes?”

  “Just a few,” I agree, shivering as he kisses lower, lower, until his lips brush my clit, making my head spin with that gentle touch.

  His mouth is soft, but also magic, because he kisses just so, and he licks just right.

  A wild whoosh of pleasure rushes through my body. My pulse skyrockets, and I ache for more of his lips.

  More of him.

  This man I want to keep close, to know even better.

  Holy hell.

  Maybe this is testing my limits.

  Because as he licks my clit, as he kisses my pussy, as he goes down on me like I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, emotion surges inside me like a tidal wave, threatening to knock me off my feet.

  This feels like so much more than friend-zone sex.

  This feels like we’re lovers. Just . . . lovers.

  I don’t simply want more orgasms with Jesse. I want more of his laughter, his company, his heart. I want his trust, and I want to give him every bit of mine.

  But that’s not what this temporary thing is about.

  We established clear boundaries before this started, and if I let one whisper of what I’m feeling tumble from my lips, I’ll ruin everything.

  Thankfully, as he lavishes attention on my clit, drawing it between his lush lips, I lose the ability to form words.

  Everything falls from my head but the rush of desire.

  The promise of bliss.

  It’s swirling in me.

  Coiling in my belly.

  Tightening in my core.

  I grab his hair, clutch his head. “Oh God, Jesse. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

  My words spur him on. His tongue flicks faster. His lips kiss harder. And my world spins off its axis as my release sends me over the cliff.

  It lasts for ages, and I don’t want it to stop. The pulsing, the pleasure, the intensity that wracks my body. That turns my mind into a neon haze.

  I am swimming in ecstasy and I don’t want to come up for air.

  Except I do, because on the other side is Jesse.

  The man I’ve wanted for years.

  And I’m having him.

  As I push up on my elbows, my face hot, my hair a mess, he rises too.

  His eyes are feral, hungry. He licks his lips in a way that makes me want to lick them too. To lick every inch of him.

  “Your turn,” I say, feeling all kinds of bold and naughty.

  “If you insist,” he rasps out.

  “I absolutely do,” I say, and in seconds we trade off. He’s on his feet, and I like this.

  I am so up for this.

  Or down, I should say.

  I slide my hands along his hips, over his thighs as I get off the bed.

  I drop to the floor on my knees, wrap a hand around his hard shaft, and squeeze.

  He shudders. “Fuck, baby. That’s so good, but I need those sexy lips on me.”

  I arch a brow, playful. “You sure?”

  He curls a big hand around my head. “So damn sure.”

  I press a kiss to the tip.

  “Ruby.” It’s a warning, and it sends a hot bolt of lust down my spine.

  “Yes, Jesse?” I tease, flicking my tongue against the head of his cock.

  His marvelous cock.

  It is indeed a marvel—thick, long, and hard for me. What more could a woman who hasn’t been laid in years ask for? Hell, what more could any woman who loves cock ask for? It is a masterpiece, perfect in every way.

  Jesse groans. “Need your lips. Need them sucking my cock. Now.”

  He nudges my face closer, and my skin sizzles from the roughness, the possession.

  Most of all, from his need for me.

  I’ve never had sex like this.

  Sex so charged, both of us so hungry.

  So insatiable.

  But that’s how I feel
with him.

  I draw my lips around the head, suck him in, and swirl my tongue down his length.

  He bucks against me, groaning. “Fuck, that’s good.”

  His words spur me on.

  His filthy commands.

  Suck me deep, baby.

  Like that.

  Take it all.

  They send a wicked thrill straight through me, and I am hot again, wetter still.

  I take him all the way, gagging as he hits the back of my throat, but then relaxing so I can give it to him the way he wants.

  His hands curl tight in my hair. He rocks into my mouth, and I suck and lick harder and faster till his legs shake. His knees buckle. With a hand firmly wrapped on the back of my head, he slumps down to the edge of the bed, bringing me with him as he fucks my mouth.

  Then he groans, long and deep, as he warns, “Coming.”

  That’s all.

  One word.

  And I swear it turns me on even more to do this to him, to feel him, to taste him, to drink down his release as he comes in my throat.

  He pants, breathing hard, as I release him with a wet pop.

  I swipe my fingers across my lips and sit back on my heels on the floor, gazing up at where he sits, dizzy and sex-drunk, looking so spent I can’t help but grin.

  He notices and exhales. “Proud of yourself?”

  “I’ve always wanted to make a man weak in the knees.”

  He reaches out, brushing my hair from my face. “You make me weak fucking everywhere, but don’t get too cocky, woman.”

  “Too late,” I quip with a pointed look at his still semi-hard cock.

  “Ha ha,” he says dryly. “Just warning you that I rally quickly, and when I do, I’m coming for you and you’ll be coming for me.”

  I let out a happy sigh. “I think I did test my limits,” I say, trying that on for size.

  “How so?”

  “I’ve always wanted knee-weakening, toe-curling, bang-me-stupid sex.”

  He grins, all sweet and crookedly sexy at the same time. “Is that the kind we have?”

  “Damn straight. I’m totally stupid right now,” I say, though I admit it feels a little like cheating to check off the list.

  But maybe hard things are easy when they’re right.

  Sex with him feels wickedly, insanely right.