by Lori Foster
So she gave him a slow, seductive smile, and with a fluid motion took his T-shirt off over her head and let it drop to the cement floor.
It left her in his lap. Completely naked. “Maybe you’ll want to know that I have condoms in my beach bag.”
Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Hell. She just had to do that, didn’t she? Reopening them, he took a good long agonizing look.
What he saw made his cock tighten, pulsing with anticipation. Sara was long and lean, bronzed over every inch and wrapped all around him, arms dangling around his neck, breasts giving a little lift-and-turn display in front of him, her flat stomach descending down to her dark blond curls.
There was nothing between him and those curls, and her soft wetness behind them, but his red swim trunks. He could feel her there, the press of her, smell the tangy hint of her desire, and he wanted to rip off that final barrier and lift her onto his cock until they were both in an agony of pleasure.
Sara was a paradox. She flipped between modest and a confident seductress. The woman who carried condoms in her beach bag didn’t match the woman who had climbed onto him in a blind panic when she thought she might have to walk out of the water topless.
He didn’t want to be a conquest, another stripe on her beach bag. But despite her eagerness with him, Sara didn’t seem like a bed-hopper to him. It was a gut feeling, based on nothing but the way she sometimes looked at him. Needy. Vulnerable. A little shy. Or he could just be seeing what his dick wanted to see.
There had to be an answer, before he went forward. He had to know. Sighing, he kissed her chin.
Sara lifted herself up a little to bring her mouth closer to his. “Kyle, I haven’t been with a guy in almost two years. Please don’t make me wait any longer.”
Relief surged through him. That was all he needed to hear, confirmation of his instincts that she didn’t sleep around. “That is a long time, isn’t it? What have you been waiting for?”
His thumbs plucked at her nipples, enjoying the taut firmness of them. He wanted to roll them in his mouth again, circle his tongue around them.
“I’ve been busy working,” she whispered, fingers in his hair, urging his head down to her breast. “And men don’t ask me out all that often.”
That had him snapping his head up, gaze locking with hers. Men didn’t ask her out? That was as unbelievable as a Baywatch episode. But she looked sincere. There was a little bit of hurt and confusion in her green eyes, and he had to show her how much he truly desired her.
How he wanted her like he’d never wanted another woman. “That’s because you probably intimidate them. They know you’re too good for them.”
She gave a soft laugh. “I don’t know what it is. But please, Kyle, don’t make me get off your lap and put that shirt back on.” Her voice was a pleading whisper. “I’ll die of embarrassment.”
“There is nothing I want more than to make love to you. Right now. But I want you to be sure, and I want a guarantee that you won’t just take off when the road is cleared without leaving a phone number or anything. I don’t want that.”
“I’ll give you my number. I promise.”
He had to be satisfied with that or he had to walk away. Sara shifted in his lap, her chest colliding with his, her soft inner thighs bouncing against his cock. Her promise was good enough for him.
“Scoot back so I can get my trunks off.”
Sara gave an adorable little murmur of approval and dug her nails into his shorts. “I’ll get them.”
That worked. Just get them the hell off so he could sink into her.
Sara went back on her knees, tugging at his trunks. He lifted off the ground, hoping to aid her efforts as he crushed his mouth to hers, sliding his tongue past her thin lips.
The bathing suit was still damp and he could feel Sara struggling to pull it down. He shoved at the waistband, trying to help, her cool fingers setting his teeth on edge as they slipped inside and touched his overheated skin.
“Get on your knees,” she said, kissing him back, sucking on his bottom lip.
He did as he was told, no questions asked. Sara’s entire hand was in the shorts, fighting her way through the mesh lining to reach him. He was in agony, feeling her, yet not having her exactly where he wanted her. Moving left and right, he tried to maneuver her hand onto his cock.
Sara paused, then started jerking her hand so hard his whole body rocked forward. “My hand’s stuck!”
Kyle looked down, and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sara’s hand was wrapped up in the mesh like a dolphin in a tuna net.
“What the hell?” He grabbed the waistband, determined to just rip them off, and yanked.
Unfortunately, Sara tugged in the opposite direction. The twisted mesh caught his testicles like a tourniquet. The room spun like it had when he’d sucked down two shots of Jack Daniels at his brother’s wedding.
“Aahh,” he managed to say, letting go of his trunks and sinking to the floor, doubled over in shooting pain.
“What’s the matter?” Sara finally extracted her hand and gave him a tentative touch on the shoulder.
“My …” Hell, he didn’t know what to call them. Nuts sounded like he was twelve, balls was a guy word, and testicles was for medical professionals. Gonads? No, that was the worst of all of them.
Settling for gesturing with his hand, he sucked in big breaths and tried to relax. “My … got twisted.”
“Oh!” Sara’s hand went to her mouth. “Well, let me see.”
See? What was there to see? His balls weren’t a circus sideshow. Through gritted teeth, he said, “I’m fine. I just need a minute.”
Sara fixed him with a stare, impatiently pushing her drying hair out of her face. It was heading toward frizzy as it dried, falling into her face in clumps. “I just want to make sure you’re all right. You could have suffered a testicular torsion.”
That sounded like something he didn’t want to know about. He couldn’t stop his lip from curling up in horror. Sara reached for the waistband of his trunks.
He jerked away, creating residual stinging in his nuts. Putting his hands on his sides as he forced himself upright, he tried not to wince.
“Fine, we’ll do this the hard way.”
Sara looked different, like she had shifted into a confidence he didn’t understand. Even naked, she commanded a professional respect. It occurred to him maybe she was a nurse.
Then he lost all rational thought when her hand slipped into his shorts and caressed down his shaft, then cupped his testicles, probing gently.
“Does this hurt?”
Holy hell. Eyes closed, he said, “No.”
Her nipple was brushing his chest, her hair was across his arm, her breath was hitting him in the gut, and her fingers were on his balls, and yes, dammit, he was in pain. Agonizing pain from wanting her.
Swiftly, Sara took down his trunks.
That didn’t help.
Sara eased the trunks past Kyle’s knees and discarded them. Mouth dry, she took in his erection, pointing up at her like the hand on a sundial. Obviously the injury hadn’t curbed his desire, thank goodness. Leave it to her to just about maim the man she was on the verge of having sex with.
She lowered herself so she could take a good look at his testicles, just to reassure herself they were uninjured. They had felt fine, but she wanted to make sure one hadn’t dropped lower than the other.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kyle sounded outraged.
“Everything looks normal,” she said, cupping him again for her own pleasure, not for medical examination.
He felt smooth, soft but rigid, and his penis rose above her fingers, temptingly close to her mouth, all hot taut flesh.
“I told you …” he said, then trailed off with a groan as she pressed a kiss on the top of his shaft.
“Mmm.” He was warm, and tasted salty. She closed her mouth around him, sucking lightly.
“Sara.” Kyle’s fingers raked her hair b
ack.
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“No.” His breathing was hard, his answer spit out on a pant.
She liked that. And sucked harder, going a little deeper, enjoying the slide of him in and out of her mouth, the way his hips started to move, thrusting himself into her mouth.
Her hands were still on his testicles and she massaged there. Her knees were on the hard floor, but she didn’t notice until Kyle urged her back.
“Here, let me put the shirt down.” He reached behind him and snagged the T-shirt, laying it down carefully for her, doubling it over for extra padding.
Sara could see that Kyle didn’t even think about his action, and that made it all the more thoughtful. There was just an integrity about him, and she was suddenly very grateful he had found her half dressed in the ocean instead of any other guy.
“Thanks.”
It should have broken the mood, should have made her feel awkward, but instead she felt a strange tenderness mingling with her intense desire. So when she bent back over him, she took him in deep, as much as she could handle while he tossed off a curse and dug his fingers into the back of her neck.
When she pulled off him, she sucked the tip hard, arousing herself nearly as much as Kyle. Running her tongue down the length of him, she darted lower and kissed his testicles, smiling at the startled jump he gave.
Fingers on his thighs, brushing back and forth, her mouth hovering over his erection, she said, “Am I making you uncomfortable again?”
He shook his head. “But I want you to sit up. It’s my turn now.”
She did as she was told, moving her hands to his chest so she didn’t topple over from balancing on her knees. “Oh, we’re taking turns now?”
“Absolutely.”
And to prove his point, Kyle bent over, taking her nipple into his mouth at the same time his finger slid smoothly between her thighs and inside her.
Heat rushed through her, her head lolling back as he started to move slowly, an even, steady in and out. Sara clenched her teeth, squeezed her fingers in Kyle’s soft chest hair, and tried not to come.
Since her sexual needs were as neglected as a redheaded stepchild, she was spiraling out of control fast.
Kyle was big, warm, smelling like sweat and ocean water, and he surrounded her with his masculinity, urging her to give up that control and let him make her moan.
Very aware of how naked she was, how bent and spread and laid out before him, she decided it would be a good idea to prolong this as long as possible. Since she wasn’t likely to lose her bikini, nearly drown, and be stuck in a hut with a gorgeous lifeguard again anytime soon, she should wring every last drop of pleasure out of it that she could.
And actually a drop of pleasure was an understatement. She was being deluged with the Niagara Falls of pleasure.
Chapter Four
Kyle wanted Sara to come. Now, with no waiting, with nothing but his finger inside her and his tongue on her breast. The look on her face was incredible, and the feel of her tugging on his chest hairs, little sounds of ecstasy jerking out of her, was almost more than he could stand.
The way she had taken his cock into her mouth had been unreal. He wanted to return the favor and finish her off.
Her breasts weren’t huge, but they were firm, curvy, just right on her long and lean body, and a golden color like the rest of her. “How do you get tanned everywhere, Sara? Do you sunbathe naked?”
He’d like to invite himself over to watch that.
His finger had stilled and she let out a cry of disappointment.
After sucking in a breath, she said, “It’s fake tan lotion. Sunbathing causes skin cancer.”
Even better. He could roll on her lotion. “Smart girl.”
Rubbing his thumb over her swollen clitoris, he licked around her nipple in a matching circle, teasing her.
Her head was back, eyes half shut, but she closed her hand over his backside. “I noticed you have tan lines.”
Great, his ass was probably lily white next to his tanned back. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut and enjoy her? He pulled away from her breast. “I bet I look like the Coppertone kid, don’t I?”
Sara urged his head back down over her breast, none too gently. She wiggled against his immobile hand. “Hardly. Kids are cute. You’re just … impressive.”
For that, she could have his finger back. Kyle sank into her, using only up to his knuckle, grabbing her ass with his free hand to hold her tight against him. “Is that far enough?”
“No.” Her damp hair rubbed back and forth on his shoulder. “Deeper. Please.”
He’d be happy to. He went as far as he could before pulling back, then repeated the movement. Again and again, only breaking to massage her clitoris on occasion, feeling the tightness of her inner muscles as she grew closer and closer to a climax.
When he added another finger, Sara arched against him, her body rigid. Her breath came in frantic little pants. “Don’t move,” she begged. “I don’t want to … yet.”
“Don’t want to what?” He waited a heartbeat, then stroked slow and deep, stretching his fingers inside her where she was tight and wet and ready to come.
With a little shake of her head, she tried to move away from him.
He followed her, stalking her, holding her flush against him, moving faster, sliding out one finger to saturate her clitoris with the warm fluid of her desire. “Don’t want to what?”
“I don’t want to …” Sara went still, then jerked in his arms. “Come, oh God.”
Oh yeah. Kyle’s cock throbbed against her leg as he watched the beauty of her orgasm, the way she shuddered and mewed and clung to him, her eyes lifted up to the ceiling. He kept moving, holding, pleasing her until her inner muscles stopped trembling and she collapsed on his chest, her cheeks flushed and her forehead dewy from exertion.
She was gorgeous, and nothing was going to make him move until she did. He wanted her so bad that every damn naked inch of him was pulsing and throbbing, but he wasn’t going to make one move until she moved first. Sara was so incredible, he wondered for a split second if he was dreaming, then dismissed it. If he were dreaming, he would have already spilled on his sheets.
“Kyle.” Sara looked up at him, her chin still pressing into his chest.
“Yeah?” He was a little nervous. She’d told him to stop stroking inside her and he hadn’t. It was possible she’d be pissed at him.
“Go get the condoms out of my bag and then lie down. It’s my turn.”
Whoa. Not only did she not sound angry, she had a bit of bossy in her voice. He liked it.
“Whatever you say.” He set her on her feet and searched around the room for her bag.
The room was functional at best, ugly at its worst. Cement and cinder blocks, orange life vests, and a damp moldy smell. Man, this was rough. Sara deserved better, and he felt pangs of guilt. Digging through her bag on the floor, he glanced at her over his shoulder.
Her hands were up in her hair again, in the very pose that had coaxed him into touching her in the first place, only now she didn’t even have the tiny bikini bottoms on. She looked hungry. For him. Quickly he found the condoms and dumped the rest of the bag’s contents on the floor, intending to spread the bag flat. They’d need everything they could get for protection on this floor.
Of course, there was always standing up.
Kyle opened the heavy steel outside door a couple of inches, the warm wind and rain immediately rushing in. Privacy didn’t concern him. The wind was howling and the beach was probably deserted, so that no one would discover them. And it took the air-conditioned chill out of the room.
He spread Sara’s sarong beneath his T-shirt and crushed her bag flat. Then he lay down with Sara still standing over him, the condoms in his hand, and reached for her, curious to see exactly what she planned to do with him.
Sara wasted no time in dropping down as she held his hand. She spread her legs as she tumbled into his lap so that
he briefly had a mouthwatering view of satin thighs, blond hair, and the shadows of her backside viewed from between her legs.
Damn. He was paralyzed watching that. Good thing she was coming to get it, because he couldn’t move.
Sara ripped the condoms out of his hand, tore one open and rolled it on, her breasts dangling over him, enticing him to move. He reached out and pinched a nipple, and she gave a convulsive squeeze on his cock as she finished with the condom.
She said, “You want these?” and abandoned his cock to cup her breasts.
Yeah, he did want her breasts, her nipples. Hell yeah. But the sight of her with her hands on herself, caressing lightly, with no encouragement from him, was worth holding off for a minute or two.
Or five seconds. Damn, he couldn’t hold out any longer, which was pathetic, but he didn’t care. “Bring them to me.”
Sara leaned over, her hair falling across his chest, and braced one hand on the floor. With the other she reached down between them and stroked his cock before rubbing the length of him back and forth on her clitoris. Her nipple danced in front of his mouth and he reached out and caught it with his lips and sucked hard, enjoying the sweet, salty taste of her.
Then aching so bad he hurt, he grabbed her other breast, squeezed them together, and flicked his tongue across both nipples, growing desperate as she teased his cock between her folds.
He hadn’t been prepared for Sara to so confidently take what she wanted, but then again, since the minute he’d grabbed her firm, almost-naked body in the ocean, he’d just been along for the ride, unable to resist her.
She was sluicing him up with her moisture so she could play some more, and she was teasing the shit out of both of them. They panted in perfect accord, and when she went a little too deep in her game, Kyle nudged upward inside her.
Her knees fell out and Sara sank down onto him with a groan. Kyle couldn’t breathe. Damn. He abandoned her breasts to lie back and concentrate on not coming.