by Mara Jacobs
She was, she had flushed beyond pink.
“Put out the fire, Declan, please.” She reached behind her, undid her bra, and dropped it to the floor. She placed her hands under her breasts and held them up to Declan, offering herself to him, daring him to take her, begging him to.
He slightly raised the arm that had been around Marlee’s waist so that it was in the middle of her back and then pushed up, forcing her to arch her back.
God, what a vision. Marlee’s hands on herself, giving herself to him.
“Lie back, Marlee.”
The chairs were slightly oversized and the arms were overstuffed, acting more like side pillows than arms of a chair. Marlee’s head came to rest on the outside of it, just slightly hanging over the edge. Her back was supported by the upholstery of the arm and her bottom was still in Declan’s lap. It was a natural motion for her body when Declan placed his right hand under her knees and unbent her legs, draping them over the other arm of the chair.
His hand along her back slid down to undo the button and zipper at the back of her skirt, and she lifted her hips so he could shimmy her skirt down, off her legs to join all her other clothes.
She lay across him, naked except for her peach satin panties and her thigh-high stockings. The elastic band at the top of the stockings was edged with peach lace. Declan’s gaze traveled up her sinewy legs, over the panties that seemed to be growing darker with her moistness, along her firm tummy and farther up. Her hands were still under her breasts in silent offering. His eyes continued along the slender column of her graceful neck, to her mouth, which seemed to tremble ever so slightly, and to her eyes.
Behind her ever-present glasses, her bewitching eyes met his. They had been on him the whole time. They were filled with desire and passion and a need in her that Declan knew only he could fill.
He began mentally running over all his stats, beginning with his rookie season, in his head. It was the only way he knew to make this last. Having Marlee look at him like that, with such rocking emotion, he had to let his mind wander or he’d have her on the floor, buried in her to the hilt, in a matter of seconds.
“God, Marlee, you’re like a feast, all laid out in front of me. A bunch of tasty delights.” His eyes roved hungrily over her entire body again. “Let’s see, what do I nibble on first?” He heard the hitch in her breath and then the pattern changed, deeper and faster breaths, her breasts rising where she still held them up for him.
He took her hands in his and led them away from her breasts. “No. I won’t let you cheat and get there quicker. Only I get to touch you today. Only me. No one else.”
Ever. He wanted to add it, to feel her out, to start planting seeds, but he’d insisted on going slow with her, so he figured that included his end too.
He placed her arms over her head so that her forearms and hands dangled over the side of the chair. The position also caused her breasts to push farther into the air, and there was no way Declan could deny them, or himself, pleasure any longer.
He didn’t have to lean down far; the high upholstery of the chair allowed Marlee’s glorious body to be only inches from Declan. He put his face to her chest and placed a chaste kiss on Marlee’s heart, silently wishing that he would be touching it, on many levels, beyond today.
He let his lips glide down from her heart over the swell of her breast. His tongue followed the trail his lips blazed until he arrived at her nipple, already spear-like in its intensity. He circled her taut peak with his rough tongue and watched as her whole breast tightened and flushed. He held her other breast and he began gently playing with the nipple. His mouth, needing more than just a taste of her sweetness, took her in and began to tenderly suck. He knew he would never taste anything as delicious as Marlee if he lived to be a hundred.
She arched her back when he began to suckle her. She ground her bottom into Declan’s hard erection. She was trying to spur him on, her need apparent as she roughly brushed her thighs together. The movement pulled Declan out of idolatry of her breasts and he backed off, taking both his hand and mouth from her glistening globes.
He placed a hand on her thighs to still her. “No, baby. That’s a form of touching yourself. No cheating. Like I said, only me, Marlee. Only me touching you.”
Her forearms covered her eyes, her wrists crossed, and the palms of her hands were facing the ceiling, like she was trying to block out the world. Declan could only see pieces of her tortoiseshell frames peeking out. But he could see her mouth. See how heavily she was breathing. See her tongue dart out to wet her lips, which had suddenly gone dry. See her teeth grab and gnaw her bottom lip as the sensations overwhelmed her.
His left hand edged under her and began stroking the soft skin of her lower back. His fingers skimmed the waistband of her panties. Back and forth across the elastic, sometimes dipping in against the soft skin of her bottom, sometimes taking his fingers away completely. He kept the rhythm of the sweeping the same, but changed up the destination of his fingers to keep her guessing.
The touches were light for a reason, and Declan could see it was working. Though she had closed her eyes, there was no way to mask the fact that emotions were crashing through Marlee Reeves. Her mouth pursed, almost as if she were in pain, and her teeth pulled on her lower lip. The gentle caresses were getting to her.
While he continued with his left hand at her back, he let his right hand come to rest on the front of her panties, the palm of his hand cupping her mound, his fingers nearly touching her belly button. The contact was so weightless that Marlee raised her head and opened her eyes, almost as if to see if Declan had really finally touched her or if her aching body had needed the touch so much she had imagined it.
Declan could read her mind. “Yes, Marlee, it’s me touching you. Do you like that?” As he knew she would, Marlee nodded. She began to open her mouth to answer, but Declan cut her off. “Good. Lie back. Close your eyes, let me touch you like you want…only me, Marlee…only me touching you.”
Without moving the ball or palm of his hand, his fingers skimmed the waistband of her panties, spanning from one hipbone to the other. His left hand, at her back, was doing the same thing on her other side, and he knew that Marlee expected him to grab both sides and quickly slide the panties off her. Or even rip them off her, as he’d done their first night together.
But Declan didn’t want to give Marlee what she expected. He needed to keep her off-kilter. Their pattern needed to change. He wasn’t sure in what convoluted thought process he had correlated slow lovemaking with a breakthrough of Marlee’s feelings for him, but the equation was there and he couldn’t shake it. He knew it was irrational, but he was now single-minded in his quest.
He moved his hand down from her mound to her thigh. He stroked the soft skin that encased the strong muscles and once again thought about his underestimation of yoga. God, but it did great things to Marlee’s legs.
He slowly edged his hand down until the tips of his fingers were at the elastic of the leg entrance of her panties. The ball of his hands pressed down on her thigh, kneading the muscles, as he rubbed it back and forth. The entry of his fingers into her panties at the juncture of her thigh was seamless, and again Marlee began to raise her head to see if Declan had really touched her, the sensation was so feathery.
“Lie back, Marlee.” His tone was slightly more forceful this time, and she laid her head back and met his eyes. “Close your eyes. Just feel me, Marlee. You don’t need to see my hands on you, you can feel me. Can’t you?” He watched her face and saw the slow, almost imperceptible nod. “That’s right. Just feel me touching you. Only me, Marlee.”
“Declan. Declan…I…I need…”
“I know what you need. I’ll get you there.” His fingers moved further in, spreading her slick folds, feeling her throbbing heat, her crying need. Just a few sleek strokes was all it would take to shatter her.
He could tell it wasn’t what she wanted. Oh, she wanted him all right, but not this way. She began to struggle
in his lap, fighting her way to sit up. Reading her movement as desperation for release, he began to stroke her faster while cooing sweet words to her.
“Declan, no, let me up, let me up.”
The words made him release his hold on her, taking his hand from her panties and pushing her up at the back with his other hand. Had he hurt her? Pushed her too far?
“I need you, Declan. I need you to be inside me when I come. Please.” She held his face as she spoke, and before he could register her words she had swung herself around so that she was straddling him. She let go of his face and began tugging at his shirt.
He helped her with his shirt, taking over getting it off and to the floor while her attention came to rest upon his jeans. She slid herself back along his thighs so there was room for her hands to start undoing his fly. That done, she eased his jutting penis out of his jeans and underwear. She clasped him and began to stroke his length as she rubbed her breasts against his chest. His coarse chest hair scraped against her tender nipples, eliciting moans from them both.
He had tried to go slow with her, he really had. And, honestly, this was probably the most drawn out their lovemaking had been all week. Good thing, because Declan couldn’t stand it any longer. He rocked to one hip to get a condom out of his wallet, and even that small motion seemed to nearly send Marlee over. She was so ready. He rolled the condom on and took her hand in his, then wrapped her fingers around his cock. “Guide me to you. Put me inside you.”
He left her hand covering him and took both his hands to her face. He lifted her head until they were eye level. A look of sweet anticipation was swathed across Marlee’s oval face. “Open your eyes, Marlee. Look at me while you take me in. Take all of me.”
She opened her eyes as she pushed the fabric of her panties aside, not even taking the time to remove them, and lowered herself on to Declan. She gasped at the fullness, the depth. He growled at the tenderness, at the shining light that was behind Marlee’s green-gold eyes.
Her glasses had slid down her nose, and Declan reached around from the side of her head and pushed them back into place, then leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the top of her nose. Small tears swept down her face and Declan brushed them aside with the pad of his thumb, still holding her face in his hands.
She came down hard once again, and Declan raised his hips up to meet her, and they both spiraled out of control. It seemed to go on forever, rippling and shuddering, gasps and moans, neither knowing which sound came from whom, nor did they care.
The entire time, they never took their eyes off of each other. It was if they were looking into each other’s souls.
Only them.
Chapter Fifteen
As Marlee slowly dressed, she was only vaguely aware of her surroundings. She was still dazed by what she and Declan had just experienced together. Nothing like that had ever happened to her. Her arms seemed to be barely working as she put her bra back on. She was surprised to find that her legs would hold her weight as she stood to gather the rest of her clothes. Her body was liquid, and she felt as though at any minute someone would cut the strings that held her up and she would melt to the floor like the Wicked Witch of the West when doused with water.
She continued to dress, but her eyes were drawn to Declan. It seemed as though she was always drawn to Declan.
Only me, Marlee.
He was moving around the room, putting himself back together, pulling his shirt over his head, covering up his incredible back and shoulders. As he pulled his jeans tight to refasten them, the denim flexed across his spectacular behind and Marlee nearly swallowed her tongue.
It was nothing new, this strong effect having sex with Declan had on her. But it was different this time.
Only me.
The sex had gone to another level, and Marlee had been sure that there was no level more intense than the one they’d been at all week. She’d been wrong.
This was more than sex. More than just a physical mating. Thoughts and words of definition flicked through her mind, but she had no desire to pinpoint anything right now. Not when she could just stand here and watch Declan.
For the first time in her life, she regretted that she didn’t follow sports. What a treat it would have been to watch Declan Tate in action these past years. The man could move. Her newly found, and very limited, football knowledge jumped to action, and she imagined Declan in those form-hugging tight pants football players wore, moving quickly to evade tacklers.
For a big guy (and Marlee now knew that compared to his teammates Declan was tiny, but still, a big guy by normal standards), he could move with the ease and stealth of a panther. Or a Puma. He was in absolute control of his body at all times. Even when they were at their most passionate peak, Marlee sensed that Declan could rein himself in at a moment’s notice. It must have taken him years to gain that self-awareness, and lucky her got to benefit from all that hard work.
For one more day. The thought came at her out of nowhere but refused to leave. It pulled up a chair and settled in, ready to pipe up the second Marlee would think about Declan in any context beyond Sunday. The guest that would not leave.
Party pooper.
Marlee’s eyes followed him, but her thoughts were not on his actions, but on the way his body moved. With purpose.
He was like that when they’d have sex—at least in their past sessions, his movements sure and knowing, no extra activity, no fuss, just a goal in sight and the most expedient way of getting there. This time there seemed to be more flourish, more…emotion, but his goal had been as clear cut as before.
What had he called it when he explained football? Oh yes. Moving the ball down the field. That was how he’d summed up his job one night while they had lain in bed exhausted. He had joked about writing his résumé and how his objective for the past sixteen years had been to simply move the ball.
He was gathering up their things at the table and turned the camera off, which broke Marlee from her reverie. She was slipping on the last of her clothes back on, and she checked her watch. Four o’clock.
They had planned on quitting early today so they would have lots of time to play and experiment in the kitchen before her family arrived at seven. Declan wanted to make his mother’s famous chocolate chip cookie recipe for dessert.
They had originally thought they wanted to leave around two, but Marlee wouldn’t have given up the past two hours even if she had to serve her family pizza from the nearest delivery place and a bag of Oreos. In fact, the kids would probably prefer that.
They’d still be okay, time-wise, if they got a move on now.
She went to the table and helped Declan do the same file-transfer-and-erase procedure that they’d done yesterday. As she handed him the flash drive with the red X on it to add their newest file to, she said, a tiny bit testily, “Come on. Let’s get a move on. Let’s see that Tate speed. We’re going to have my family waiting till midnight to eat if we don’t get going.”
Declan should have realized that he’d pushed Marlee as far as she could go without breaking in one day. And he didn’t want her breaking. It was a start. Hell, it was more than a start; she had come apart in his arms while never taking her beautiful eyes from his. And even though she was now embarrassed and double-checking that he had erased their tape from the camera, she smiled at Declan to let him know she hadn’t meant anything by her tone.
He could live with that. Hell yeah, he could live with that. And tonight he’d work on her family. Then tomorrow he’d break down the rest of her barriers by watching their tape together.
On Sunday, he’d be down to his two-minute drill. That was his specialty. He’d won more games in the last two minutes in his career than he cared to count. They had dubbed him the Comeback Kid, and the nomenclature had stuck even though he was hardly a kid anymore. But Comeback Middle-Aged Man didn’t have much of a ring to it.
They took one last glance around to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything as they headed for the door. Marlee
’s eyes came to rest on the upholstered chairs, and Declan’s eyes came to rest on Marlee. She sensed Declan’s gaze and ducked her head in a soft smile, remembering. She met his eyes, and as though it were contagious, her smile passed on to Declan. He placed his hand possessively on her neck and they left the studio.
Their studio. A place where they had shared secrets and intimacies, where they had worked on their professional lives and had dove into the personal realm as well. Where she had trusted him enough to allow their lovemaking to be recorded. Where she had asked to have it recorded.
It had only been five days, only four of which they’d been there together, and yet it seemed like they had been together for years.
Unwilling to break their contact, they walked down the hallway of the building with his hand on his neck. There was a drop box outside of an advisor’s office where Marlee would place the studio keys now that she was done with them.
The building was quiet, nearly deserted. The students were still on break. The new semester not starting for two more weeks.
She broke from Declan to put the keys in the drop box, and they turned to leave the building. As they walked to the doors, he took Marlee’s hand in his and she gave it a gentle squeeze. She was looking at him, smiling at him, so that she didn’t see the man who was entering the building some ten yards in front of them. The man brushed the snow from his shoulders and recognized Marlee immediately.
“Professor Reeves? Marlee?”
The man was bundled up in a long overcoat, but Declan could tell just by the look of him, with a pipe in his mouth and a fedora (with a feather in it, no less!), that this was an academic colleague of Marlee’s. Declan would bet one of his Super Bowl rings that underneath that top coat, the guy’s jacket had suede elbow patches.
Marlee looked up, and as she recognized the approaching man she simultaneously dropped her hand from Declan’s. Oh, she was subtle about it, pretending she needed the hand free to readjust her satchel strap on her shoulder and then pushing her glasses up her nose, but she hadn’t fooled Declan.