by Vonna Harper
Her head back, she concentrated. Yes, there he was all right, full and firm and deep inside her, claiming ownership of her pussy and said pussy cradling his cock. This was getting laid, full and free and fantastic!
Courage in hand, she again straightened so she could study the man who’d swept into her world and body. He was looking back at her, his eyes still glazed as if his attention was focused inward. I know what you’re feeling. Tab A was securely inside slot B, no question about it. And the union—incredible!
Because her weight over his hips hampered his movement, he wasn’t thrusting as he’d done before. But yes, oh yes, they could pick up the pace, rocking in a frenzy. He pushed. In response, she tightened her sex muscles.
Hot. Sweat between her breasts and under her chin. His arms and chest turning slick. She kept making animal sounds, but they no longer surprised her. They were simply part of the act and art of fucking, of muscles under strain and an earthquake building in her core.
There it was! The march.
Shivering in anticipation, she closed her eyes. With her mouth open, she waited for the rippling sensation. It began deep inside, but as her climaxes always did, it made a quick shift to her clit.
Didn’t matter where. Or when. Or even who right now. She was lost in herself. No flames, no rough explosion. Instead, she eased languidly into her climax. After all the build-up and anticipation, she was utterly at peace. There. This was what it was about, ripples that went on and on. Holding on to them, milking them, self-absorbed.
Delighted.
She flew, floated, flew some more. Then the floating sensation returned to announce the start of the downhill slide. Deeply satisfied, she accepted the return to sanity. She could do this again, soon. In the meantime, she burrowed into the quieting. Gentled.
Like a skier at the end of a steep hill, she glided to the base. She stopped and thought about opening her eyes. Before she could, her spent pussy sent yet another message.
Joe. Inside her. Climbing his mountain.
Determined to experience as much of his journey as possible, she released him and slid her fingers between their joined bodies. He shuddered and mumbled. Resting her fingertips on what little of his cock wasn’t in her, she imagined what it was doing.
His release. Male grunts accompanying each discharge. Body shaking.
He started to fall back, caught himself. Panted. Shook some more.
“Holy shit,” she muttered. “Hot holy shit.”
Still trembling, he started to pull out, but she didn’t want to have to acknowledge the damnable rubber holding his cum so she captured his sac.
“What are you—?”
“Prolonging the moment. You have anything against it?”
“Lady, right now there’s nothing I’d object to. Holy shit. I never—I mean it, I never thought this would…”
“Neither did I.” But it has.
Chapter Seven
Although they didn’t have sex in every room like she’d fantasized they would, they did baptize her bed and the couch before they ran out of go. Somewhere in there she made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. They slept spoon-like and might have remained together all day if her alarm hadn’t gone off just before seven.
“You really have to?” he muttered as she slid, naked and spent, out from under the covers.
“I really have to. Yesterday afternoon was all I could get away for.” She’d intended to walk into the bathroom without turning around, but so much for the best of intentions. He’d thrown off his blankets, giving her an unobstructed view of everything. For a man who’d declared himself reamed out, he’d recovered. Maybe he woke up with a hard-on every day, something she’d love to discover.
But would it happen? And if it didn’t— “Are you trying to tempt me?” She indicated his erection.
“Is it working?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t dare let it. Can you imagine how many tongues would wag if I didn’t show up today after our being seen together last night?”
“Not my problem. No one knows me, yet.”
“Yet,” she muttered. Much as she wanted to explore the word, her bladder was letting its presence be known.
When she was done in the bathroom, she left it so he could do the same. In answer to his question she said, yes, a shower was the first order of business. Usually she set up the coffee pot the night before but there’d been nothing usual about last night. Not to worry, he said and took off for the kitchen.
Selecting the underwear she intended to put on after her shower took an unreal amount of concentration. Finally, she opted for white bra and panties. The moment she stepped into the water, the needles of spray stung her sensitive skin. Getting used to the sensation briefly took her full attention. Then she relaxed, a little. Last night had been fun, fantastic fun.
In contrast, she now found herself in a contemplative mood. One-night stands had never been her thing. The way she saw it, sex was profoundly intimate, the path to perpetuation of the species. Fucking, for her at least, resulted in more than physical nudity. Mind and soul came along for the ride.
So where did that leave her emotions this morning?
“I’ve changed my mind,” a familiar male voice said. “I don’t want to watch coffee perk after all. Any chance you’re up for company?”
“What are you thinking about?” she asked although she wasn’t ready to turn her back on her question about the state of her emotions.
“Helping you.”
“I know how to soap myself.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” His nude silhouette appeared on the other side of the milky shower door.
“Then what—?”
“I’m a bit confused about what happened last night. I’d like to come in so we can talk about it.”
“Talk?”
“Of course. What else?”
“Now that you put it that way, I guess I can make room.”
The door opened. He stood there, wonderful and overwhelming at the same time, rattling her nerves and making her teeth ache. Holding her breath, she stepped back. Although he kept his hands at his sides, their shoulders brushed.
“What, ah, what did you want to talk about?” she managed.
“A lot of things.” He faced her with water raining down his chest and his cock lightly scraping her belly. “The moment I drove into Gold Ridge, I had this feeling about it. My ex would call it a burg, but it’s not like that to me.”
“People put down roots here. They care about its past and future.”
“Roots,” he muttered. “That’s important to you.”
He hadn’t posed it as a question, but although she wanted to think about how right-on he was, the ability to concentrate was drifting off with the steam. Nothing more than a shifting of her weight and she’d be in his space. Granted, his cock was already invading her space, but movement on her part would send out undeniable vibes.
“What’s important to you?” she asked. “No matter what you do to this place, you’re not going to get rich off it.”
“Rich?” Unmindful of the droplets on his lashes, he returned her gaze. “I have a hard time acknowledging that wealth once mattered to me. Maybe it was the divorce, reassessing my life. Maybe I finally had time to find myself.”
“How is that going?” she asked. Somehow her arms were around his waist and wet skin slid against wet skin. “The journey’s complete?”
“Nothing in life is ever finished—at least I hope it isn’t.” He embraced her in return—enveloped her, really. “Wisdom is a process, right?”
What a wise and compelling man! “Life is a journey. Hopefully wisdom is part of that. I’d hate to think I’m going backwards.”
“That’s pretty heavy for a couple of people who haven’t had coffee.”
Coffee meant less than nothing to her. Same thing when it came to getting to work on time.
“My pot perks pretty fast, if you’re desperate,” she said and leaned into him.
<
br /> “I’m not desperate yet. But I’m getting there, and I’m not talking about caffeine.”
“I know you aren’t.”
Because of his greater height, he didn’t have to concern himself with getting water on his head unless he scrunched down. In contrast, her sopping hair was plastered to her head and she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Not that it mattered.
“You’re addictive,” he muttered as he ran his broad hands up and down her back, making her shiver. “I want to learn everything I can about you and tell you hundreds of probably boring things about myself.”
“What, ah, what do you consider boring?” She spoke with her mouth less than an inch from his shoulder.
“My childhood immunizations. For the record, I was disgustingly healthy and have only one broken bone to boast about, a forearm. I sustained it playing football. Are you impressed?”
“Only one?” She pretended shock. “I had two, both happened when my bicycle went rogue.”
“I hate it when bicycles do that. If I’d been there, I would have picked you up and carried you to the hospital.”
Wonderful image. Thinking to tell him that, she opened her mouth. Instead, she wound up licking water off him. As she did, she felt his hands creeping lower until they cupped her buttocks. Turning her so his back protected her from the spray, he pulled her closer.
More than willing to join in what they both knew was going to happen, she waited for him to widen his stance then slid into the space he’d created. He leaned over her, curving her back a little but giving her his strength to hold onto. As he nibbled her hair and closed his legs around hers, she repeatedly pressed her lips to his shoulder, neck and chin.
Heat sluiced off her, heat that came from both of them as much as the water. Some insane woman had let this man walk out of her life. The two of them hadn’t been right for each other, something she couldn’t comprehend. One night with him and, in some ways, she’d known him forever. At the same time, it might take her a lifetime to fill in the blanks.
It was all right. She had a lifetime for the journey.
A little shaken by the thought, she pressed into his erection. Hard, hot, ready, a gift from man to woman.
Hungry for the gift, she worked her hips from side to side.
He did the same. “You’re going to be late for work.”
“Is that concerning you?”
“Not so you’d notice. And your actions tell me you aren’t swamped by guilt.”
Would it be the same tomorrow? Maybe. Probably. She turned her being over to the primitive energy radiating throughout her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her breasts into him. His hold on her buttocks tightened.
“We’re wet,” he muttered. “Getting dry and deciding how to handle things will take time. The only other option—”
“Now. Right damn now.”
Chuckling, he lifted her. Once she was off the ground, he spread his hands under her thighs and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Then, using her hold on his neck, she leaned back, blinked water out of her eyes and concentrated on the alignment of vital body parts. Slick and smooth, hot and calming at the same time, she took him deep.
“God,” he got out. “Ah, god.”
She couldn’t speak, not with his cock inside her and their bodies trembling. Neither of them could keep this up long, which meant—
Heat that existed separate from the shower touched every inch of her. Last night should have left her satiated or at least slow to respond but being with Joe was changing everything she’d believed she knew about herself.
She needed to explode, quick and hard. Hell, even before he started working his magic on her, she was ready. Right there.
His strength was a marvel, a miracle. How he could support and thrust at the same time was something she longed to explore and consider. Later.
Now—now was for crying out, holding him tight and safe within her, running her teeth over him and her arms trembling.
Sweat from both of them bled into the shower and became part of a whole. More cries escaped her throat while a delicious glow spread over her until she felt as if she was drowning in it.
“Coming,” she said. She tightened her inner muscles. “Oh shit, I’m coming!”
“Wait. Wait for me.”
“I can’t—oh damn, I can’t.”
Something wonderful and awesome caught and shook her. Her cries echoed against the wet walls, then faded to a whimper as the shaking continued. Join me. Make this the same for both of us.
“Now. Now. Now,” he grunted, and she knew she’d been granted her wish.
* * * *
Joe was still in the buff when she joined him in the kitchen, dressed for battle but wishing she wasn’t. He handed her a steaming mug. “I didn’t see any cream,” he said. “I take it you like yours black.”
“My waistline says keep it black.” She tried not to look down, but gave up. Even flaccid, his cock demanded her attention. What condition would it be in by the end of her work day, she wondered.
Would he be here, in his soon-to-be-house, when she returned to it?
“Your phone rang while you were in the bathroom. I figured it might be awkward if I picked it up. She left a message.”
Something about his expression told her he was anticipating her reaction to the message, and when he followed her into the living room, she accepted that privacy was out of the question.
“Where are you?” Squeaky asked after she pushed play. “You owe me for your share of the dinner. Speaking of last night, how did it go? You get laid?”
“Yes,” Joe answered Squeaky’s question. “As a matter of fact, she did get laid, repeatedly.” He turned his attention to her. “Am I to assume that that was on your to-do list?”
Where’s a hole to climb into when I need it? “It’s a long story.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
“I’m, ah, sure you would. However, I don’t want to be any later for work than I’m already going to be.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “I hope you aren’t blaming me for that. As I recall, you invited me to get wet with you.”
“Guilty as charged. It was incredible. Having sex in the shower, I mean.” Glancing at the wall clock, she winced. “I’m never late. They’re going to think—”
Warm fingers touched her wrist. “This’ll just take a second. What was the big deal about getting laid?”
“All right, all right! It was my goofy idea of how to celebrate selling the house. A way to release the tension I’d been under.”
“Hmm. Would any male body do, or did you have someone in mind before I showed up?”
Groaning, she pressed her now buzzing hand to her forehead. Told herself not to read too much into his question. Failed.
“You’ve seen the size of this town. It’s not like the list of availables is that long. In fact, as far as I know, there is no list.”
“Then my showing up and fitting the bill was fortunate, wasn’t it?”
“More than,” she whispered, throat tight. “I’ve never had—there’s never been a night like—”
“And this morning, don’t forget that.”
“Like I could.” Or want to. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around everything that happened.”
His smile fading, he sipped on his coffee. “Feeling overwhelmed, are you?”
“Yes.”
He touched her wrist again. “Me too. Maybe the woman’s supposed be the one to say this, but it’s been incredible.”
Darn it, I’m not going to cry! “I feel the same way. And overwhelmed.”
“So you already said.” A long look had her trembling. “I’ll throw on what I wore yesterday and get a real shower once I’m at my motel. That way you don’t have to worry about leaving me in your—”
Don’t go! “Before long it’ll be your place.”
“I know.” He reached out and gathered the hand he’d been brushing with his fingertips. The zing ret
urned.
“What are you thinking?” he whispered.
“Nothing you need to…” She took in the window she’d cleaned last week, the old but character-filled cook stove, the vinyl floor she’d wanted to replace, the solid cupboards and outdated hardware. Generations of women had prepared meals for their families in this room. They’d tended gardens and brought in their harvests, canned and frozen.
“Where are you going to live?” he asked.
“What?” She blinked back the tears she’d hoped she wouldn’t shed. “I’m not sure. There’s a newer apartment complex just beyond the city limits that—”
“It won’t work.”
“What?”
He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “You don’t want to move, do you?”
“Whether I do or not is a moot point.” Stiffening her spine was harder than she’d hoped it would be, but she wasn’t going to start blubbering, no way! “I appreciate…everything. You did your part by, you know, buying the place. I’m capable of taking things from here.”
“In other words, the one-night stand is over.”
If she’d ever hated a phrase more, she couldn’t remember. But he was right, it was time for her to go to work and him to— “What are you going to do now?” she asked, making no effort to free her hand. “Are you going back to Chicago until the sale’s finalized? You can’t want to spend weeks in a motel.”
“You aren’t the only one with a long story.”
What are you going to say? “I’m sure I’m not.”
“Mine is filled with dramatic-to-me chapters like walking off the job one day, selling the highly successful business I started, packing up my car and hitting the road. Things you don’t have time to hear this morning.”
For a naked man in need of a shave and shower, he had a lot of layers, layers she longed to peel away. “What about later?”
His gaze bore down on her. “Are you saying what I hope you are?”
“I hope I am.”
His smile made her forget everything else. “It sounds to me as if we have two ‘hopes’ working here. Put them together and they might lead somewhere, like into the future.”