by Sylvie Kaye
Looking out from the scarred, empty window of his bedroom, he shook his head at the irony. The backyard was still green with grass and birds chirped from a nest in a branch of the sprawling old oak.
He moved away. The nylon in the carpeting had melted from the heat and felt hard and lumpy beneath the soles of his boots. Wallpaper hung in strips where it had been wetted down. He scanned a few other bedrooms, finding nothing of value that wasn't damaged from water or smoke. Unable to leave empty-handed, he collected an armful of sooty plaques, commemorating Fremonts as mayors of Wayback, from the upstairs den.
"This is it,” he said seeking out Gretch. “Thankfully I had Daddy's pocket watch on me the night of the fire."
"Daddy's silk ties with the Texas motifs that he wore on Sundays are beyond repair. So's Mom's wedding gown. This is all I found.” She held out a handful of jewelry. Their mother's engagement ring and grandmother's brooch, an uncle's high school class ring, a pair of earrings belonging to a great aunt.
"Are you ready to leave?” He was. The whole place was damned disheartening.
With the heirloom trinkets tucked into her shirt pocket, gingerly, Gretch climbed down the ladder. One-armed, while holding onto the plaques with the other, he followed once she'd reached the bottom.
"I think we should bulldoze and start fresh,” she said before she tore down the driveway and away from the homestead in her pickup, trailed by a billow of dust and gravel.
Luc stashed the dedicatory plaques behind his seat. He was leaning toward restoring the house at whatever cost. He'd lost so much this past year. His father. Their home.
The only thing he hadn't lost yet was Lili.
* * * *
Lili couldn't take another sleepless night. Between her worries about money and Luc breathing heavily in the next room, she'd spent one too many strung out evenings this past week.
In her jeans and T-shirt, she lay on the sofa Sunday morning, too tired to do much and yet unable to doze off.
When the door opened, Luc came in, looking hot and tired. He had on old jeans, a washed out T-shirt, and scuffed boots. He was disheveled, and yet it looked good on him. Sexy, relaxed, casual.
"How come you're up already?” He hung his hat on the rack by the door.
"Guess I'm used to getting up early.” She rested her arm above her head, lazily. “How did it go today?"
He crossed the room in a few long-legged strides. Lifting her bare feet, he sat down on the sofa, and rested them on his lap. Absently, he rubbed her toes.
After being on her feet, putting in long hours all week, the massage felt bone-melting. He didn't reply right away, and she didn't push him, allowing the manipulations of his skillful hands to soothe her.
He met her eyes, raising an eyebrow. “You look relaxed and doable."
"You're changing the subject. But you don't have to talk about the fire damage if you don't want to."
He shook his head. “I don't know where to start. The kitchen's not bad. The rest of the downstairs is scorched to a crisp. The upstairs has a lot of smoke damage. The whole place is water damaged."
"Will you be able to restore it?"
"At this point, rebuild would be a better verb. Gretch and I haven't decided yet. We may tear it down."
"I'm sorry.” She slipped her foot across his thigh in a soothing gesture.
"A little higher, darlin’ if you're looking to comfort me.” He rubbed the sole of her foot against his fly.
"I swear you must have a perpetual hard-on."
"You do that to me.” He gripped her ankles and spread her legs, sliding between them.
She hugged him to her, enjoying the feel of his body weighing her down, and the smell of man tinged with the taint of smoke. He nuzzled her neck, nipping at her throat, the sting exciting her. He licked the spot afterward, his tongue hot and moist and enticing.
He nibbled her earlobe, and a shiver of delight trickled down her spine and made her squirm.
"That feels great. Wriggle some more,” he coached as he tugged her lobe between his teeth again and again.
She wriggled, but not because it tickled, but to get closer to his hard heat. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and that helped a lot. Especially when he ground his hips into her. The friction of his fly against her crotch urged her to buck her hips higher, closer, harder.
As heat spiraled in her belly, his breath teased her ear. He moaned her name. The sound was seductive as it clung in the silence of the room.
Greedy for his mouth, she grabbed his hair in her hands and pulled his head down until their lips touched, barely. He held back, stronger than she was, and teased her with his warm breath, the tip of his tongue outlining her lips. Stirred by escalating desire, she gasped while wanting, waiting. Unable to force his head down, she lifted hers and their mouths met, kissed, and clung. She devoured his lips. Like a starving woman, she couldn't get enough.
And she had been starving for a very long time.
When his tongue delved in and out of her mouth, she relaxed into the rhythm, let its promise of what was to come lull her. As if he felt her submission, he eased up and the kiss became softer, more caressing, less frantic.
He cradled her face in his hands, murmured endearments into her mouth. “Your lips are so soft. You're so beautiful. I want to make love to you inside and out."
Heady words. Words lovers mumbled in the heat of passion. They weren't lost on her. She mewled and urged him on.
As he suckled her top lip and then her bottom lip, he slipped his hand beneath her shirt. His hand was cool on her heated flesh. The contrast of sensations tantalized. When he palmed her breast, her belly clenched with want. Her nipple became rigid. By his moan she could tell he was pleased with her response.
"Nice. Real nice,” he whispered. “And so stiff. I have to taste you."
"Please,” she coaxed. Her whole body quivered with want.
His moist lips plucked at her nipple, drawing it in and out. He rolled it between his teeth, his bite exquisite. He groaned before his hot tongue circled the nub, laving it, soothing it, leaving it erect and aching.
"More,” she demanded, her voice low and sultry.
He moved to her other breast, kneading while he nibbled, and she purred with her pleasure. She slid her hands up his spine and trailed her fingernails downward, one vertebra at a time. His body was so toned, his skin so hot beneath her fingertips.
"Gosh, you're magnificent,” she sighed.
He raised his head from suckling her. “You should see me with my clothes off,” he teased.
"I intend to."
He blinked, the locks of hair hanging in his eyes giving him a mussed, bedroom look. “A birthday wish come true."
"It's not your birthday yet."
"Next week. But who's counting?” He lowered his head, his hair tickling her chin. His teeth pulled at the hardened nub.
"Luc, let's go upstairs,” she whispered, unwilling to wait any longer now that she'd decided to give in to the sexual attraction that had been taunting her for months.
"You don't have to ask me twice, beautiful.” He leaped from her body and the sofa and lifted her up.
Slinging her over his shoulder, caveman style, while she squealed and protested and slapped at his back, he carried her up the stairs.
"Your room or mine?"
"Mine,” she gushed. “My grandma uses your room when she comes. I'd never be able to look her in the eye again."
She laughed. Luc laughed, and opened her bedroom door and dumped her onto the bed. She landed flat on her back with her arms and legs spread eagle.
While Luc yanked his boots off, she shimmied to the end of the mattress and straddled his legs. She began undoing his fly. When she got the snap open, she kissed his belly, teasing her tongue through the hairs leading downward.
Luc tangled his fingers into her hair, the scent lemony. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes. He couldn't believe Lili was finally going to be his.
She unzip
ped him, touching his hardness with her fingers and her tongue. Hot lust coiled through his groin as she moved up and down on him. He gritted his teeth when he reached his limit, and stopped her, lifting her sweet face upward to his.
"Let's get naked,” he croaked, his voice husky.
With a nod, she smiled—oh-so sultry.
She slipped her shirt over her head, her blonde curls messed and sexy, and leaned back on her elbows. He yanked his shirt off and tossed it aside. Digging a condom from his jeans pocket he tossed the square onto her belly. She palmed it, pressing it close. Quickly, he worked his jeans down and kicked them aside.
"Did I mention how magnificent you are?” She lay there propped up on her elbows, her breasts bare and his for the taking, her eyes glassy with desire for him.
A macho stab of pride shot through him at her praise.
"I've waited so long to see you naked. Unzip for me,” he said.
When she did, he tucked his fingers into her waistband and stripped her jeans from her body. Once he worked them away from her feet and onto the floor, he spread her thighs open.
"Lili, you're beautiful.” He wanted to say more but she left him speechless.
Spanning his hand open across her belly, he thumbed her tight bud. She moved against him, rotating her hips, closing her eyes, letting a soft sigh slip from her lips.
He slid a finger inside. “You're so wet for me."
"Hmm, yes."
He worked his finger in and out, several times, unable to leave the slickness of her body. Her musky scent urged him on. She felt hot and tight. She spread her legs wider for him. Her inner lips were pink and swollen. The sight of her, so accessible at last, was his undoing.
He slipped his finger from inside of her. He stood there before her, erect and waiting, using up all his willpower to maintain his control. He'd wanted her for so long, but he wanted it to be slow and special. Not hard and fast.
She picked the square packet from her stomach and ripped it open. Sitting up, she unrolled the rubber onto his length. Her fingers were long and agile, and she made short work of the job. When she finished, she cupped his balls in her hand and squeezed gently.
Carnal desire jolted through him. He needed her, and now. He stopped her hand and pressed his weight against her body, pushing her down onto the bed.
He rested his hand against her throat, and felt her pulse thrum beneath his thumb. Lowering his head, he kissed her, gently. His mouth lingered over hers, sipping and tasting, making love to her mouth.
When he nudged his shaft against her downy mound, she opened wide for him, and he entered her with one forceful lunge, filling her hot, tight opening.
He swallowed her gasp, breaking away to rest his forehead against hers. He squeezed his eyes shut. “You feel good."
She felt good all right, she felt like home.
In that moment he fell in love. He'd wanted Lili, craved her, been infatuated with her. But now he realized what had driven him these past months. Real love.
He didn't tell her. She wouldn't want to hear it. But by damn, she was going to feel it.
He withdrew partially and began a slow, steady rhythm. Entering and withdrawing, entering and withdrawing.
He cradled her head between his hands. “Look at me, Lili."
While he pierced her body with his, he insisted on piercing her eyes with his, reaching down to her soul. Yes, he wanted Lili to be his, body and soul.
When she fluttered her lids open, and he made contact with those electric blue eyes of hers, he held her there, as if suspended in time. While his hips lunged and hers rose up to meet him, a sheen of perspiration appeared above her lip and on her forehead along her hairline. His own skin felt hot and damp. Still, they kept up the steady pace.
Beneath his chest, her heart beat rapid as bat wings. Her sweet breath came in short gasps. She was getting close. He increased the tempo of his thrusts as she rode along with him.
With a cry of, “Oh, Luc, I'm coming,” she fell apart.
Her inner muscles milked him, and his balls tightened. He began to spasm. Her body trembled as she orgasmed. His just plain shot.
Holding her close, he kissed her hard as she rode her waning climax.
He fought not to blurt out, I love you.
She hugged him and kissed him with panting breaths when her tremors subsided. It seemed she had nothing to say either.
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Chapter Eleven
Lili dozed off.
She awoke hours later in Luc's arms, after the best sleep she'd had in weeks. He snored lightly beside her, sleeping pretty soundly himself.
She feathered a finger over his sculpted pecs and abs. He'd said his ribs were healed, and from the workout they'd engaged in a few hours ago, they must be. She eyed his bicep, the one her head wasn't nestled on. It looked toned and cut. He must work out. He'd have to, with him hell-bent on riding Storm Trooper every Saturday. As she trailed her finger upward again and circled his flat, brown nipple, his hand whipped out and caught her wrist.
"You're awake.” She smiled at him. His eyes were still sleepy and lidded. He looked sexier than a man just awakening had a right to.
"Find anything you like?” He lifted her finger to his lips and kissed it, then sucked it into his mouth, in and out, leaving it tingly and wet and her entranced.
"I like too much about you,” she whispered. When he continued sucking her finger, and tingles of delight spiraled into her belly, she sighed. “I didn't know my fingers were an erogenous zone until now."
He withdrew her finger, arched a brow. “How about your toes?"
"I ... I honestly don't know."
"Time you found out.” He scrambled beneath the sheets, coming up near the bottom of the mattress with her foot in his hand. He met her eyes over the top of her toes, and licked at the big toe. She giggled.
He ran his tongue along the crease between the pad of her foot and her toes, and she stopped giggling. When he suckled her baby toe into his hot, wet mouth, her eyes glazed over.
"Oh, Luc, that's so...” She purred, as her whole body flushed with heat.
He let her toe slip from his mouth to ask, “You like?"
"Oh, don't stop,” she gasped. When he obliged her plea and began sucking on another of her toes, she murmured, “I like. I like everything you do to me."
Not long after that declaration her toes were abandoned for other, slicker body parts. Ones that he toyed with, slipped into and out of with his fingers, laved with his tongue, and teased with his shaft.
After rolling around the bed, each of them vying for dominance, he gave in with a laugh which swiftly turned to a moan when she mounted him.
"Lili, you're one awesome sight."
Shaking out her bed-matted hair so her curls sprang loose, she arched her back and teased him with the jiggle of her breasts.
"Come a little closer, baby,” he coached, reaching his hands out and grazing her nipples.
She laughed and pulled back, then leaned forward and her breasts filled his palms. Kneading and massaging, his strong fingers bronzed from the sun contrasted with the pale flesh of her breasts. The sight was heady, his touch intoxicating.
He dragged his thumbs across her sensitized nipples and lust stirred low in belly. The stirring became hot and urgent as he plucked and rolled the tight, turgid tips between his fingers.
Dipping her fingers between her thighs, she slid them along the slick folds of her sex, seeking out and tugging the hard knotted bud, keeping time with his manipulations. The combination of their hands aroused her to heights she'd never reached before.
"Lili,” he murmured her name like a lament and released her breasts from his hands. “If you continue touching yourself, I'm going to go off like a six-gun with a hair trigger."
Pleased by his words and more than ready, she reached over and snagged a condom from the night table. “Now it's my turn to watch.” She handed him the packet, and settled back on his thighs to watch as he m
ade swift work of protecting them both.
She laughed. “No fair. If I'd blinked, I would've missed the action."
"Mount me, and I'll show you action.” He bucked his hips in the air, and his erection jutted up in front of her sex, large and latex covered.
Gripping his shaft in her hand, she guided him to her opening, spreading her thighs wide to take him inside her. With her downward plunge and his upward lunge, he penetrated her and filled her, the sensation electric. She sucked in a deep breath. Her inner muscles clenched around him, and he growled with appreciation.
His broad hands clutched her waist, and he pumped into her, grinding his hips while pulling her downward. His movements were deliberate and steady, his hold tight and demanding. She rotated and gyrated, her moves wilder and more frantic with every stroke of his.
Her tender folds, stretched open, dripped with her wetness as she rode his hard length. Her inner thighs slapped his flesh. She inhaled deep breaths as she fought to climax.
He stabbed into her, higher, harder, his breath coming fast. She knew he was ready. He stiffened, and his jaw clenched.
Mind-blowing friction finally forced her over the precipice. In a flood of release, she cried out, “Luc."
With a fierce groan, he let himself go and then went still. As her muscles continued to milk him, he pulled her tight. She crumpled onto his chest, spent, wilted, weak. As she lay there panting, she felt the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath her, heaving air in and out of his lungs.
Once his breathing evened out, he kissed her temple, and when she turned her mouth to his, his lips pressed a kiss to her lips. Gentle, caressing, endearing.
His full lipped, lingering kiss made her heart go soft and warm, and she forced herself to part from his mouth and roll from his body.
"Stay, Lili.” His voice was husky and serious.
Unsure if he meant in bed or in town, she took the high road. “I have to go the bathroom.” She slipped from the sheets and padded down the hall.
Their being together was addictive. He was addictive.
She splashed cold water on her face and dabbed the thick terry towel to her cheeks.