The Perfect Indulgence

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The Perfect Indulgence Page 10

by Isabel Sharpe

She frowned harder. Strange answer. Especially since Zac was usually very precise. “If you didn’t have much time with a woman, but felt seriously about her, would you still want the relationship to stay casual?”

  He glanced over, then back at the road. “If I had serious feelings and thought they had any hope of being returned, nothing would keep me from trying for forever.”

  “Oh.” Aanother of those crazy deep-down thrills. The idea of Zac letting nothing stop him from going after a woman... A traitorous part of her wanted to be that woman, to have the experience of meaning so much to someone that he’d sacrifice anything.

  Stop. No. Chris needed to live in this moment, not in some theoretical one. Besides, that kind of reckless passion wasn’t her style. “Have you ever been that in love?”

  He sent her one of his amused looks. “These are some pretty intimate questions.”

  “I’m getting to know you.”

  “Yeah? Is that necessary for what we’re doing?”

  The question shocked her. Was that what he wanted? For the sex to be as anonymous as possible? She’d expect that from Bodie or Gus, but not Zac. “Not necessary, no. But not bad.”

  He maneuvered around a sharp curve, and she swore he was looking smug. What was with this guy and the smugness?

  “To answer your question, I did think I was in love once. A woman I dated for four years after college and before I joined the Peace Corps. But when things turned bad I knew it wasn’t the real thing.”

  “Why, you think love lasts forever?”

  “I do.”

  From anyone else, the naïveté would seem absurd. But in that masculine voice, spoken with deep conviction, the belief carried weight. “What about all the people who get married and then grow apart? You’re saying they were never in love?”

  “I think you can make a mistake, yes. Infatuation can be so strong and so convincing that people rush into marriage. Most divorcing couples I know have pretty clear hindsight about why they weren’t compatible.”

  “You’re a romantic.”

  “I am.” He wasn’t apologizing.

  “But you’re okay with casual sex.”

  “Casual sex can be very romantic.”

  She frowned. “I never thought of it that way.”

  “Really?” He glanced at her. His hand found her thigh again. “I’ve been thinking of sex with you that way.”

  “You have?” Chris opened her thighs a bit wider, a smile hovering on her lips. She really liked this new calm Chris. The first time she had sex with her last boyfriend, she’d been giggly and stupid with nerves, half wishing she was curled up alone in a quilt watching TV with a mug of hot cocoa. The Peace, Love and Joy Center was the best thing that had ever happened to her. California was the best thing that had ever happened to her. “Tell me more about that.”

  Zac’s smile widened. Her mind raced ahead. In these fantasies of his was she bent over the arm of his couch? Naked on the beach with her legs spread wide? Straddling him in his bed? Kneeling in front of him with her mouth around his—

  “I like thinking of you on the beach, sun lighting your face, laughing, your energy flowing, but relaxed, loose and free. I imagine you not worrying about anything or anyone, even yourself.”

  Chris turned to stare at him. A sweet, melty ache started in her chest. “That’s it?”

  “What?” He glanced over at her, back at the road. “You don’t like it?”

  “No, it’s wonderful.” Her voice came out throaty and low. “Just not what I expected.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “Oh, something like...me naked and hog-tied.”

  “Wow.” He gave a short burst of laughter. “Actually, I could work with that. But I wouldn’t classify that fantasy as romantic.”

  “I guess not. Honestly, the whole romantic thing isn’t that important to me. I’m more concerned with respect and compatibility than grand gestures and passion in a relationship.” Her words hung in the air, pompous and dull. She shifted in the seat, stomach tightening. Was that even true anymore? Had it ever been?

  “Chris.” His hand landed on her thigh again, voice dripping with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”

  Chris giggled, her stomach relaxing again. She pitched her voice to a prissy chirp. “I believe it’s only sensible to wait for sex until mutual respect is cemented, a minimum of sixteen years.”

  “Ha!” He looked at his watch. “How about sixteen minutes?”

  “Okay.” She spoke in her natural voice again. “Sorry about that flashback to Old Chris. I didn’t realize how horrible I was.”

  “Not horrible. Afraid.”

  She waved him away. “No, no, not fear, a block.”

  “Uh-huh. And those are different because...”

  “Oh.” Chris grimaced. “You’re right, those are the same thing. Either way, I’ve been boring my whole life.”

  “Trust me, you are not that.”

  “Not anymore.” She opened her thighs wide this time, no mistaking her meaning, and leaned back in the seat, thrusting up her pelvis. “California, here I come.”

  Zac inhaled sharply. The car swerved. “Holy—”

  He brought the Prius back under control, then his hand took the trip she’d been hoping for, lazily stroking her inner thigh, getting closer with each back-and-forth until his pinky brushed against her sex through the thin material of her pants.

  Oh. My.

  Just that light touch set her whole body on fire. If he did it again she was going to lose control and beg.

  He did it again. A firmer touch this time, with an even more powerful effect. Chris let herself feel it all, head lolling against the seat, too overcome with passion to hold it up.

  Zac’s fingers settled into a regular rhythm. She whispered his name breathlessly, clutching his forearm. He continued rubbing lightly back and forth over her clitoris until she was panting and close to coming.

  No, no, this wasn’t the time. “You should probably stop now.”

  “Why?” He didn’t.

  “Because...” She could barely get the word out. “I’m going to come in the car.”

  His low chuckle pierced the fog in her brain. “That’s kind of the idea.”

  Chris closed her eyes, blushing in the darkness. “I just meant...I want to come with you later.”

  “Chris...” He paused his hand. “You can do that, too.”

  “No, but I mean...” She was about to explain to him that she only came once a session, but two things happened. One, it occurred to her that she might not have had the most thrilling sex partners, since she tended to go for men as cautious and controlled as she was, and two, his fingers started in again, and the arousal that had slowly started to recede came roaring back.

  “Let it go, Chris.” His voice was low and gentle, as if he felt he had to reassure her that her head would not, in fact, blow out the car roof. “Come for me.”

  Oh...oh...oh... She flung her arms over her head, pressing back into the seat, letting out a shrill cry that instantly embarrassed her. The orgasm hit hard and fast, sweeping her along on a sharp rush that peaked and hung before it let her down on the other side.

  Zac cursed under his breath, swung the car off the road and jammed it into Park. His seat belt flew off. Hers went next.

  The next few minutes were an increasingly frantic and comical series of thuds and ow and sorry and I can’t quite reach and no, that won’t work, either until they both burst out laughing, Chris with her pants hanging around one ankle, leg cramping up on the dashboard, Zac draped across the middle of the car, unable to get his long legs out from under the wheel.

  He fell back on the seat, breathing hard. “I give up.”

  Chris gave a last giggle. “Epic fail.”

  “We’ll do better inside.” His hands clamped her cheeks, he brought her face close. The kiss was long and lingering, with a touch of sweetness that made her feel a little unsteady, even sitting down.

  Zac leaned back, buckled his se
at belt and backed up a few feet, before swinging sharply left across the road.

  “Are we turning around?”

  “Nope.” He drove straight toward the coast, headlights revealing a driveway. “Cabin’s right here.”

  “This is it?” She paused from re-dressing to peer out the window. “We were stopped right opposite?”

  “You have no idea how hot you looked.” His voice was deep and growly. “I couldn’t even wait thirty seconds.”

  “Oh.” Chris smiled at his profile and ran a hand through his thick hair, still amazed at how comfortable she felt with him. She wasn’t one of those women who could come at the drop of a hat, and here she’d climaxed for the first time with him in a moving car with all her clothes on. “Sorry it didn’t work out.”

  “I should have known I’m too big to have sex in a Prius.”

  “Yes, you are.” Yum. She liked that about him.

  They bumped along on the rutted dirt road for about a hundred feet until the headlights picked up the glint of windows. Chris’s jaw dropped. “That’s a cabin? I was expecting a tin shack. Maybe logs.”

  “She said cabin. I’d call that a house.” He put the car in Park and hopped out, coming around like a gentleman to help Chris, who was already out, bag slung over her shoulder, clutching her flashlight and gazing up at what looked to her like a villa.

  “Wow. That is some place. How many bedrooms do—”

  She was suddenly backed up against the car and Zac was kissing her as if he’d been barely holding back the entire drive up, his body large and warm against hers.

  “—you think it has?” She was breathless, laughing. She liked Zac’s hidden caveman impetuous streak. He’d always seemed so completely controlled.

  “There are four bedrooms. I vote we baptize all of them.”

  Chris tsked. “Think of all that laundry.”

  Oh, God. Did she really just say that?

  “Actually, Chris.” He let his hand trail down her cheek. “I’m thinking of a few other things.”

  “You’re right, you’re right. It’s a lot more than just laundry.” Chris grimaced. “Let me get my calendar, because we’ll need to schedule a full cleanup session after every—”

  Her sentence ended in a shriek because she was suddenly hanging over his shoulder, being carried resolutely toward the front door, the glow of his flashlight wavering on the gravel drive.

  Her giggles came out as if she were twelve instead of twenty-eight. This was crazy and silly and she loved it.

  They reached the front of the house, where she was jolted higher onto his shoulder. Then again.

  “What are you doing? I’d like to keep dinner inside, where it belongs.”

  “Getting...keys from my...pocket.”

  She couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re going to kill me!”

  “Nah.” The door opened and he brought her in, kicked it shut, hesitated, sweeping the beam of the flashlight back and forth, then resolutely marched them...somewhere.

  Then she was being lowered to her feet and was not at all surprised to find herself in a bedroom, Zac’s light searching around. An amazing and enormous bedroom. Crazy paintings and sculptures covered the walls and surfaces. Contorted, misshapen bodies tangled around each other, and strangely combined animals roamed eerie mountain and woodland settings. The flashlight created wavering shadows that stretched and contracted across the walls and ceiling.

  “Wow. Is your friend a collector or an artist? Or both?”

  “Friend of a friend, and I have no idea. Not my kind of art, anyway.” He struck a match, lit a kerosene lamp next to the king-size bed and replaced the glass chimney. A warm, steady glow lit their side of the large room, a surprising amount of light given the flame’s tiny size. But the effect was still, frankly, creepy.

  “She doesn’t have electricity?”

  “Apparently she’s an off-the-grid kind of woman.”

  “Well.” Chris looked around, nodding politely. She was still glad they weren’t camping, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to make love for the first time with Zac in a Grimm’s fairy tale, either. She didn’t think she’d be able to relax and think sexy thoughts with a half bear, half reptile glaring at her. “It’s...interesting.”

  “I have a better idea.” He caught her chin and kissed her. “Do you need to use the bathroom first?”

  “Mmm, probably should.” She was not sure she’d ever get enough of his mouth.

  “We passed one. Out in the hall, first door on the right.”

  Inside the bathroom, Chris lit a candle and freshened up, grinning at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were large, lips pink and full. She looked happy. Happier than she had in a while. She felt more alive, too, and more free, as if she’d stripped off too-tight shapewear. She even really liked her own hair.

  The smile turned troubled. Hadn’t she spent the past few months thinking she was finally alive and free, having risen above the shackles of routine and self-control? What was this, then? Jumbo alive and free? Maybe she was just giddy with anticipation. But something felt profoundly different about this mood.

  Shrugging, she finished drying her hands and hung the leopard-print hand towel back on the gold towel rack. This whole self-transformation thing was turning out to be really confusing.

  Zac met her in the hallway with his flashlight, the creepy bedroom dark again behind him. “Ready?”

  “We’re doing it right here?”

  He chuckled. She loved that low, deep laugh of his. Though when it was at her expense she still wanted to smack him. “How about we take a look at the beach? My friend said something about shelters out there. We can at least check them out.”

  “I would love that.”

  Outside the air was chilly and she was glad for her sweatshirt and even gladder for Zac’s warm body next to her and his arm across her shoulders, though the house sat in a protected cove, which kept the breeze and waves gentle. Overhead the sky was crammed with stars, blotted out in large patches where clouds floated overhead. Chris could also see what looked like a couple of small cabins—this time the word was appropriate—between the house and the water. As she and Zac neared, the structures came into better focus and turned out to be...

  Oh. My. God.

  She turned to Zac at the same time he turned to her. She didn’t need the flashlight to know they were both grinning. The cabins weren’t cabins at all, but curtained beachside cabanas, wooden posts at four corners, fabric tented over the top, pulled back to reveal the sky to the occupants.

  And they had beds. Big ones. Full or queen.

  Chris walked around the perimeter to the ocean side, feet sinking into the soft sand, breathing in the salty sea air. “I think I might have to be appallingly rich someday myself.”

  “Yeah?” He’d crawled onto the bed and was lighting a propane lamp hanging from the ceiling.

  “I mean, I think I deserve a mansion with a private cove, don’t you?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” He offered her a hand to climb up on the bed.

  “I suppose.” She turned to sit on the edge of the mattress, then let herself fall back. A breeze blew across her, undulating the curtains. The lamp above them turned out to be a heater, which kept the chill from being unpleasant. “Zac, this is incredible.”

  “Better than the circle-of-hell bedroom back there?” He lay down next to her.

  “Much.” Inhaling deeply, Chris stretched her arms up toward the sky. “Look at the stars.”

  “Look at the beautiful woman in bed with me,” he whispered.

  She turned, smiling, to find him gazing at her in a gravely awestruck way that made her smile fade, and a solemn, sweet feeling take its place.

  Zac moved first; their lips met, clung, met again. Their bodies drew toward each other, arms encircling, legs tangling. Zac didn’t seem in the hurry she’d come to expect from men, tasting every part of her lips—one at a time, both together, then the corners of her mouth.

  The effect was
a remarkable mixture, drugging her nearly into a trance, while at the same time sparking a low burn of arousal that grew until she was the one ready to take things further.

  She rolled Zac onto his back and unbuttoned his shirt, taking her time, kissing the skin that was revealed inch by inch. His chest was smooth and well-muscled, warm and inviting. She lingered over one nipple, bathing it with her tongue, pleased by his soft groan of pleasure.

  He half raised his body to help her take off his shirt, then she pushed him back down, feeling strong and free and oddly without self-doubt, as if she’d made love to him before and knew what he liked and how he liked it.

  The fly on his jeans she undid next—more buttons where she expected a zipper, but they gave one after another without her having to fumble. Underneath, a bulge covered by smooth gray cotton. Chris pressed her face to the soft material, inhaling his scent, moving her lips across the hard length of his penis, loving the way he held still for her, his hand lightly threaded into her hair, not pushing, not guiding her, but letting her explore at her own pace.

  Slowly, she worked his jeans down over his strong thick thighs, over his long shins and beach-toughened feet.

  “Wait...in the pocket,” he whispered. “Condoms.”

  Chris grinned. She had a bunch stuffed into her pockets, too. At least they’d be well supplied.

  She pulled the packets out of his jeans and tucked them under one of the pillows, then returned to her task, dragging his boxer briefs down over his erection, which sprang eagerly free.

  His body was beautiful, long, lean and masculine, dominating the bed. She felt strangely moved by the trust she had in him not to abuse his power.

  “There’s a problem, Chris.”

  “What is it?” She echoed his whisper, even though they could probably shout and no one would hear them.

  “Only one of us is naked.”

  “Hmm.” She kissed the tip of his penis, then took the first inch slowly into her mouth and let it back out. “What do you suggest?”

  “Take your clothes off for me.”

  She took him in between her lips again, farther this time, loving the way he reacted with a sharp breath, his hands making fists against the white sheets but his body keeping still.

 

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