Full Coverage: Boys of Fall

by Erin Nicholas

  It hit her right then, looking at Nolan and acknowledging that his words had been part of her getting hot, that she hadn’t been really turned on by a guy beyond his arms and ass in a long time. And arms and asses—her favorite parts, beyond the obvious—didn’t keep her attention beyond a few dates.

  It was kind of sad how many dinners she’d rushed through to get to the bedroom because that was the only place the guys really did anything for her. But Nolan…she wanted to rush to get to the bedroom, but she also hoped he’d stay for breakfast and talk to her.

  And to think that she wanted to talk to Nolan without worrying about making a fool of herself was a damned miracle.

  She reached for the bottom of his shirt and slid the cotton up to expose hard abs and a chest that made her mouth water. She loved arms and shoulders and chests. She supposed it was the football linebacker thing that had always wound her up, but Nolan was making her heart pound just as much as any of the players ever had.

  Nolan seemed reluctant to let go of her, but he stretched his arms overhead and let her strip his shirt off. She let it drop on top of hers next to the couch and he immediately brought his hands back to her hips.

  He was solid. Not huge, but hard and toned, and Randi took her time smoothing her hands over his pecs and shoulders, down his sides and across his abs. The muscles bunched under her touch, and she lifted her gaze to see him watching her with a hot gaze, his jaw tight.

  Not taking her eyes from his, she reached for a lime and lifted it to his lips. “Open up,” she said softly.

  He did, and she put the lime between his teeth. His bit down gently, holding it in place.

  Randi leaned in and put her nose and lips against his throat. She inhaled deeply of the scent of his soap and hot, turned-on man. Then she licked, drawing a wet path over his skin. A groan rumbled underneath her tongue, and she smiled as she sat back and shook salt over the area. Then she unscrewed the top of the tequila.

  Nolan just watched, but she felt his reaction in his grip on her hips, in the hard cock under her, and the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

  She tipped the bottle, letting a thin line of liquor dribble onto his collarbone and run down over his left pec. She watched the liquid as it wound its way over the bumps of his abs to the waistband of his jeans.

  He was in jeans tonight. Hallelujah.

  She bent her head and licked the salt from his neck, again relishing his low groan, then scooted back on his lap, going to her knees between his legs. Her hands rested on his thighs and she felt them bunch in reaction—or anticipation—as well.

  The first touch of her tongue to his lower abs and his hand went to her head, his fingers bunching in her hair. She loved when guys did that.

  Randi ran her tongue along the top of his waistband, loving how his fingers tightened. Then she traced the line of tequila back up his torso, slowly and thoroughly removing the tequila. She licked up the side of his neck, along the underside of his jaw, and then came to meet his mouth and the lime.

  She bit into it, sucking the juice out.

  Nolan released the wedge, and the next moment, Randi found herself flipped onto her back.

  “My turn.”

  He kissed her deeply, then pulled back to replace his lips with a lime. Randi held it between her teeth, her whole body hot, need coiling deep. But Nolan decided to improvise and he reached under her to unhook her bra. The deep red lace was quickly whisked away, leaving her bare from the waist up. Nolan seemed to drink in the sight of her, then he leaned in and licked her right nipple.

  Randi gasped, but as quickly as the touch had been there, it was gone, and he was shaking salt over her hardened tip. Then he slid down her body. Her skirt was bunched around her waist, her matching red panties showing, but Nolan stopped at her belly button, tipping the bottle over her stomach. The clear liquid spilled over, sliding down her side to the cushion below. Her oversensitive skin felt every millimeter the tequila touched.

  Nolan gave her a wicked smile. “Now what order is it again?” His eyes fastened on her nipple. “Oh, yeah.” He bent his head and licked the salt from the hard tip, but then he sucked gently, then harder as she cried out.

  She arched closer, panting, her legs spread with his hard body between them. He slid down again and put his mouth against her stomach, sucking the tequila up and then following the trail where it had spilled down the side with his tongue. He licked his way back up, clearly not caring there was no tequila on the skin over her ribs or between her breasts, or on her left nipple.

  By the time he slid up and took the lime from her teeth, Randi was on fire.

  Nolan sucked the lime wedge, then tossed it over his shoulder, leaning in to take her mouth in a margarita-flavored kiss that definitely went straight to her head.

  His hand cupped her breast, playing with the tip, rolling and tugging while she grew wetter and needier.

  “Nolan,” she moaned, when he moved his mouth from hers to her nipple again. “Please.”

  “Okay,” he told her agreeably. Before sliding his hands under her skirt and stripping her panties off of her.

  She still had her shoes on—red heels that happened to match her underwear, which did, incidentally, match the tiny red flowers on her skirt. She started to try to pry the back strap down her heel with the toe of her other foot, but Nolan’s big hand stopped her.

  “Leave them on.”

  Right, he liked her in heels.

  “Skirt?” she asked, lifting her hips so he could pull it down too.

  His eyes weren’t exactly focused on her skirt, but they were paying attention to the general vicinity. “It stays too.”

  The pretty floral skirt was a perfect example of the feminine way she liked to dress when she wasn’t at the shop. She always got a kick out of the guys who would treat her like a buddy at the shop, including swearing and talking about their latest lay, but then held doors and watched their mouths around her when she was in a dress.

  Now that pretty skirt was bunched around her waist and everything below that was completely exposed to Nolan. Keeping her skirt and shoes on felt strangely naughty, and she wiggled against the cushion. “Nolan.”

  “I know, Ladybug.”

  Ladybug. Such a crazy nickname, but it made her grow even wetter. Or maybe it was the rough but affectionate tone in his voice when he said it. Either way, she was inching ever closer to an orgasm and he hadn’t even touched her pussy yet.

  That didn’t last much longer.

  “Hold this,” he told her, handing her another lime wedge.

  She started to lift it to her mouth but he stopped her.

  “Right there.” He moved her hand to rest on her left hipbone.

  “What—”

  She gasped as he licked a path along her inner thigh and shook salt over it. Then he tipped the tequila bottle over her mound. She felt the cool liquor trickle over her clit, adding to the wetness.

  He lowered his head, licked up the salt, and then went to work getting every drop of tequila. And then some.

  Randi’s fingers curled into his hair and the couch cushion beside her as she held on. He ate at her, licking and sucking, drawing her clit into his mouth with perfect pressure to shoot her right to the edge. But it wasn’t until he slid two fingers into her and said, “Sweetest pussy ever,” that she went careening into the hardest, most satisfying orgasm of her life.

  Apparently he didn’t have to always write the words to get a reaction.

  She drifted back to earth to find him grinning smugly as he plucked the lime wedge from her fingers and sucked on it.

  The sucking caused the ripples of her orgasm to keep rippling and she tried to clench her thighs. But he was in the way.

  “I’ve never loved tequila more,” he said, tossing the lime wedge back into the container.

  “My favorite,” she said. “Absolutely.”

  He kissed her again. Then pushed back. Kneeling on the cushion, he unzipped his pants before standing and shoving them and
his underwear to the floor.

  Randi took in the sight of Nolan’s hard cock. He was long and thick and firm, and she felt the ripples start again, need building just looking at him.

  He held out his hand. “Ride me.”

  “Yes,” she said on a breath, grabbing his hand and letting him pull her up as he sank back onto the cushions.

  She threw her leg over him, straddling him like before. He held up a condom that he must have pulled from his pocket.

  “Prepared?” she asked.

  “Optimistic.” The wicked grin he gave her made her inner muscles clench.

  Grinning, happier than she could remember being in a long time, she took the foil package and sheathed him, enjoying every inch of the hot steel under her hands. Before she could say anything or even get positioned, Nolan’s hands were back on her hips and he was lifting her up. A moment later he eased her down as he thrust up, filling her in one long stroke.

  Randi tried to catch her breath, but her body insisted she start moving, oxygen or not. She lifted and lowered herself, feeling every single drag of her body on his.

  “Fuck, Randi,” he said through gritted teeth.

  She braced her hands on his chest and moved again, loving how his grip tightened on her and his chest rose with the huge breath he sucked in.

  “Lift your skirt,” he told her.

  She couldn’t leverage herself against his chest then, but she did as he asked, holding her skirt up. She didn’t need to worry. Nolan’s big hands continued to move her as if she weighed nothing.

  “Damn, that’s hot,” he told her gruffly. “I love seeing my cock disappearing into your tight, sweet pussy. I’ll never get tired of watching that.”

  Randi felt her inner muscles clamp down on him. Dirty talk was fine and she’d heard all the words, but she knew it was Nolan saying these things that made it hot and naughty and so good. Because it was more than words. She heard the way he felt in his tone and saw it in his face. This wasn’t just a fuck, or a cock-and-pussy moment. This meant something to him.

  “You feel so good,” she managed, though her chest and throat were tight for some reason—exertion, possibly, but more likely emotions that she didn’t want to deal with right now.

  “Heaven on Earth,” he told her. “Your body is fucking heaven on Earth.”

  Dang, the guy did have a way with words.

  She picked up the pace though she could have happily stayed right there forever, at that leisurely rhythm, Nolan stretching her and filling her and looking at her like she was everything he’d always wanted.

  But Nolan wasn’t as content with leisurely. He leaned in and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tight as he surged up into her, lifting and lowering her with his thrusts. And eventually that wasn’t enough either. He flipped her onto her back.

  “Get that pretty skirt out of my way, Ladybug,” he said huskily.

  She pulled it up as he plunged into her. She cried out his name, her orgasm hovering, teasing, tempting.

  Nolan braced his hands on the couch on either side of her hips, locking his elbows and watched where he moved in and out of her, clearly meaning everything he’d said about never getting tired of that.

  It was partly how turned on he was, how much he clearly wanted her, how much he loved being with her like this, that twisted her tighter and tighter, until finally she came apart in a flood of pleasure and heat and emotion that made her cry out his name for the second time and clamp onto him as if she could keep it all going and going.

  But that was all it took to trigger Nolan’s climax. He shouted her name and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding on tight as he came.

  Neither of them moved for a few seconds, then he dropped his forehead to her shoulder and eased himself down beside her on the cushion.

  She felt like they were glued together, every inch of him touching every inch of her, and she had no desire to move.

  Ever.

  Randi slipped out of bed early the next morning. She didn’t want to leave. Nolan was taking up more than his share of her bed and she loved it. He was still snoring softly at five a.m. when she pulled on her jeans, T-shirt and work boots. She could have definitely used more sleep, but she had to meet her mom for their Thursday morning breakfast.

  And she definitely needed coffee. Nolan had woken her two more times in the night. Once had been hard and fast and heart-pounding. Once had been slow and sweet. That was the one that had wrecked her.

  That had been the one that had prompted her to wake him up the third time.

  She wrote him a quick note and put it on her pillow, clichéd as that was, and headed to the diner. Her mom would be coming off the night shift at the hospital and just getting back to Quinn. Every Thursday they met for breakfast after Katie’s shift and before Randi’s day started.

  Randi walked into the diner and spotted her mom, already with a carafe of coffee in front of her. She slid into the booth across from Katie and immediately poured some of the brew into the cup waiting for her.

  “’Morning.”

  “Hi, Mom.” Randi gave her a grin and then drank.

  “You okay?”

  Randi swallowed. “Well, yeah. Why?”

  “You look perky.”

  Randi had been getting up to open the shop at six a.m. for the past eight years. She did great work in the morning before everyone else got there. But she wasn’t a morning person. Getting from horizontal to vertical was the hardest thing she did every day. And no one knew it better than the woman who’d had to haul her butt out of bed every morning for eighteen years.

  “Not perky. Fine. But…normal.” But she didn’t feel normal. Not even a little.

  She’d had sex before. She’d been with guys who’d really wanted her. But she’d never been made love to. And that was exactly what had happened with Nolan last night.

  There had been sparks at Coach’s party. After years of noticing each other, of dancing around any kind of relationship—physical or otherwise—of assuming they had nothing in common so they wouldn’t be compatible in any way. There had been hot kissing. There had been flirting and teasing and then tequila. But she’d had no way of expecting what it would really be like with him. How amazing it would be. How…consuming.

  That sounded so weird, but when he was touching her, kissing her, talking to her, moving over and in her, he was everything. There wasn’t room for doubts or fears or even the ability to be surprised or amazed. He took over every thought and feeling.

  And in the aftermath, that was pretty scary.

  And surprising. And amazing.

  “No, you don’t look normal,” Katie said. “Did something happen?”

  “Something like what?” Randi asked, taking another big swallow of coffee.

  “Something good, obviously,” Katie said. “What is it?”

  Sex with Nolan could make her perky after four hours of sleep? Huh, she might need to keep him around. She felt a smile slowly spread. She’d love to keep him around.

  “There. That,” Katie said, pointing at Randi’s mouth. “What are you smiling about?”

  “I’m seeing someone,” she admitted.

  Katie’s smile was equally big. “That’s wonderful. Who is it?”

  Randi looked around. The diner was busy this time of day. They were a ranching community. Ranchers got up with the sun. And everyone in town who depended on the ranchers’ business got up with the sun as well. “It’s brand-new. I don’t really know what’s going to happen. But he asked me to go to New York with him for a big party in a couple of weeks.”

  “Nolan Winters,” Katie guessed immediately. She nodded. “I think he’s had a crush on you for a while.”

  A few months ago, Randi would have waved that off. Or maybe she would have even agreed. But now, after Coach’s party, after the last few days, after last night, she didn’t like the word crush or the insinuation that it was one-sided.

  “I really like him,” she said. “He makes me feel�
��special.”

  Katie clearly liked that. “He should.”

  Yes. Randi agreed. But they all should. All the guys she’d spent time with should have looked at her like she was the best thing since someone covered a coffee bean in chocolate. They should have wanted to whisk her away to New York. They should have woken her up in the middle of the night and made love to her with their eyes locked on hers like they couldn’t believe she was really there.

  But none of them had. Until Nolan. And while all of that sounded a little narcissistic even in her head, that’s not how it felt. Because she felt the same way. She’d loved not just being the object of his affection, but showing him how she felt too. The body shots, the brownies, the way she went eagerly into his arms each time he woke her—and the time that she’d awakened him—she hoped she showed him that she was just as amazed to be with him.

  The waitress took their order and she and her mom chatted about her dad and how his back was feeling, if Katie should paint the kitchen yellow or white, and if Randi should wear her hair up or down for the New York party. They made their way through their eggs and waffles, discussing the touristy highlights of New York and if Randi was scared to fly. She hadn’t even thought about it. She’d never flown, had never really thought she’d have a chance, so she didn’t know how she felt about it.

  “But Nolan will be with you,” Katie said. “You won’t be nervous if he’s there.”

  The waitress refilled their coffees again and took their plates, and Katie excused herself to the ladies’ room.

  Randi sat sipping, and remembering the night before, and blushing at some of the things Nolan had gotten her to say.

  Until she heard, “How long is Nolan in town?”

  She straightened and glanced over her shoulder. Monica Williams sat facing Randi’s direction in the booth behind her. She couldn’t see the other woman’s face but she knew exactly who it was. Monica’s best friend. Teresa Winters. Nolan’s mother.