by C. R. Moss
Definitely doomed. He was without a doubt going to be nursing some wounds shortly.
“Ouch,” she whined.
Her relay of pain jolted him from his sexual fantasy, and contemplating bitch-slapping actions, at least a reprieve for the moment. “What’s wrong?” His voice cracked in his throat. He was lucky a sound came out at all. The strangulation to his cock was turning into a slow painful suffocation. On second thought, he was lucky he didn’t scream. Probably wouldn’t look so gentleman-like if he excused himself to her bathroom and jacked off. But it could be an out if he needed one.
“Damn! I cut myself on the handle of the pot.” She flung the sheet off her body revealing the rest of her silky white skin, and he just about ran to the restroom. A small bloodied scratch on her right thigh garnered Damon’s attention. Lucky for him.
Without considering her reaction from last time he touched her, he climbed up the ladder and pulled her leg into his hands. “Just a scratch.”
Her leg shivered in his hands, as if she were a frightened doe. Dark eyebrows shot back into her hairline. “Is there a lot of blood? Do I need stitches?”
A chuckle left his lips even after he clenched his mouth closed to stop it. “No, it’s just a scratch, darlin’. I’ll make it all better.” Doomed for sure.
Bristol carefully examined her leg, still cupped in his hands. “When I was little my mom used to kiss my scratches away.” Sadness changed her once fearful face. “That was before she died. I was seven when she passed. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss the hell out of her.”
Without a second thought, he released her leg and stepped down from the ladder. He knew what it was like to miss a loved one. When Granddad Dougan died, he thought life would never be the same. And it never was. Time passed, but he never forgot. Grabbing a tissue from the nightstand, he climbed the ladder and cleaned the scratch. With her words still resonating in his mind, he bent down and touched his lips to the warm flesh.
She sighed.
He tightened his grip around her thigh.
It only took a brief second. He hoisted his body off the ladder to straddle hers. “I’m sorry, Bristol. Here I go again, mauling you.” He prepared to move but couldn’t.
She gripped his forearms with both hands and whispered, “No. Please don’t go.”
“But, I seem to act like a crazed animal when I’m near you. Baby, I can’t promise you that I can play by your rules.”
She ran one finger down his left arm. “I want you to stay. I need you to stay. Please?” Her voice cracked, came across as begging.
The prim and proper city-girl was slowly becoming a seductress in disguise. And he liked it. No, loved it.
“No need to ask me twice, darlin’. It would take heaven and earth to move me now.”
Chapter Eight
Bristol was losing her mind. At least that’s what her brain was telling her even though her body was ready to pounce on the man kneeling over her. His beautiful blue eyes lost her in their depths, and his heavy masculine scent permeated through every pore of her body. She fanned her fingers down his muscular arms again.
“Not sure how much more of the stroking I can take,” he whispered.
Neither did she. All common sense took a vacation. She let go of his arms and gripped the denim material at his collar. “Then, don’t take anymore.”
Her body yearned for him, the heat pooling between her legs begged for him. A warm flush filled her face.
Damon cracked a smile. “I believe you’re blushing, city-girl. Perhaps you would like me to stroke you?”
“What?”
“You heard me the first time.”
His assertiveness turned her on and frightened her all at the same time.
Yes. She most certainly did know what he meant, yet she wanted to hear the words roll off his lips once more. His demeanor never once teetered, instead he continued assessing her, obviously curious of her reply.
“Well, Bristol, the choice is yours. Should we take this—whatever this is between us and explore it? Or do we both run from the fire we feel for each other and let it keep burning us alive? I can tell you now, darlin’, if the answer is no, I can’t stay the rest of the weekend and pretend that I don’t want you. I’ve tried to play that hand, and it didn’t work. Let me know now. I’ll take my leave, if I have to, and you’ll never see me again.”
And there it was, the ultimatum, the chance to explore their feelings or shut down. Again. Images of her ex-husband John flashed through her mind, his taut body pressed against Tony. Her stomach clenched as knives shredded the organ. After seeing the love of her life in bed with another man, and not just any man but the leading man in the play she was in, she vowed to never let another male close. And now, here she was, mere inches from a man she wanted in the worst way. Will I ever learn?
Damon cleared his throat. “Bristol, you still in there, darlin’?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I’m thinking.”
“Obviously. So what is the verdict?”
Desiring a calm affect, she inhaled a needed breath. “I want to explore what this is between us,” she admitted.
A relieved sigh from Damon came in time with her accelerated heartbeat. “I was hoping you’d say that.” His fingers touched her chin. “So, where should we start?”
She blinked as the residual effects of his sensual touch still burned through her veins. “Um…”
“I’d say a heaping taste of Bristol sounds great right now.” He breathed the words against her cheek.
He waited his breath hot against her face.
She tugged on the collar of his shirt, and he placed his lips on hers. The sensation of their lips touching, the soft skin of their mouths pressing effortlessly against the other, sent her body into another realm. Needing more, she snaked out her tongue and licked his lips. Automatically, he opened his mouth, sucked her tongue inside and moaned deeply. Flinging her arms around his neck, she locked her hands together. He deepened the kiss.
Damon’s body pushed her against the mattress, his cock brushed against her inner thigh. The hardness pressed rhythmically against her flesh. He actually wanted her. He wants me.
She didn’t have to stroke his penis for him for hours or watch pornography to get him hard like she had to do with John. Damon was definitely moving what she considered heaven and earth. And it was beautiful and hot in every sense of the word.
Wrapped up in each other, Damon shifted, rolling her over until he was pinned beneath her. Gently, he broke the kiss, then brushed his lips against hers and whispered, “I want to taste you, lick you, and pleasure you.”
“You are. You taste wonderful to me.”
A confused expression moved across his face as he slid from under her, pinning her beneath him. “I want to taste what’s between your legs, darlin’. You know, the little kitty hidden from view.”
Bristol gaped, didn’t want to appear too overzealous, but her own desire was pushing her to the limit. The blood moved through her body like raging rapids. Soon she would be perfectly flushed, bright red. No man had ever offered to give her oral sex. John was the only man she’d ever been with, and he couldn’t even look at her vagina let alone place his lips on it. Most nights he couldn’t put his dick near it. Why didn’t she recognize the signs back then? They were as obvious as the lips on her face. “You do?”
Amusement replaced the confusion on Damon’s face. “Bristol, you’re truly killing me here, darlin’.”
“Sorry about that. I’d like to have oral sex.”
“Damn, woman. You make it sound so formal. When you return to New York, shred that medical journal and buy yourself a good sex magazine.” He slid down her body and straddled her thighs. Warm fingers touched the waistband of her pink pajama shorts. Then he cocked his head to the side and coughed, seeming to camouflage a laugh. “What the hell is on your pj’s?”
Oh shit. She forgot she wore the pajamas her Nana sent her for Christmas. Images of the cowboy from Toy Story crossed
her vision. Nana Ashcombe, a little addled in her old age, considered all cowboys, real and cartoon, part of the western landscape. And since Bristol was a Broadway cowgirl, Nana assumed Toy Story pajamas were appropriate, leaving from consideration Bristol was almost thirty-five instead of five. But the soft cotton material was so comfortable to sleep in. It was one of her secret guilty pleasures.
“They were a gift from my grandmother.”
“Cute. Does she realize you’re an adult?”
A little annoyed and still a bit nervous, she began to babble, “Most of the time. You know I remember back when I was in middle school, she bought me this Mickey Mouse purse and it w—”
He put a finger to her lips. “I get the picture, darlin’. Let’s discuss that story later. Right now I have more pressing matters at stake.”
“I tend to babble when I’m nervous,” she whispered against the warm flesh.
“Don’t be. I’d never do anything to hurt you. We’ll take it slow, and you can ask me to stop so you can catch your breath at any time.”
“What makes you think I’m going to want to stop? Just because I’m a little bit nervous doesn’t mean I can’t handle you cowboy.” The crazy-ass vixen buried inside her was outdoing herself today. But she couldn’t help it. He made her feel alive, uninhibited, and sexually charged beyond her wildest dreams.
“You’re not going to want to stop, darlin’. If anything you’re going to want more, and I’m going to give it to you. I couldn’t stop now, if I wanted.”
“I don’t and won’t want you to stop.” She planned on experiencing every solitary inch of this man.
He slid the cotton shorts down her legs and touched the top of her pink satin underwear. “Nice.”
The excitement of his contact sent goose bumps in droves across her skin. Her want for him was beyond intense catapulting to immediate need. Could he see it? Could he sense the desire she had for him? She gasped slightly when he slid her panties off.
“God you’re beautiful, darlin’.” He sounded as though he had rocks lodged in his throat. “Spread your legs for me.”
She did what she was told. The cool breeze flowing through the small cracked window next to the bunk beds kissed Bristol’s naked lower body. Instantly, her nipples hardened, the throbbing buds pushed against her pajama top. As if he heard her thoughts, he reached up and cupped both aching breasts. His touch through the cotton sent her already erect nipples into pointed torpedoes.
“This piece of material isn’t going to do.” Slipping his hands to the hem, he fisted the top and pulled it over her head releasing her braless boobs. “Now that’s better.” Then he took on a serious tone. “I want to lick your pussy and play with your tits until you come in my mouth. And then I’ll do it again.”
Yes. I want you to…. She didn’t have time to squeak a reply. His mouth covered her mound and every thought, near and far fluttered from her head. Every solitary hair on her body stood at attention as his hands cupped her butt, moved to her pussy. With the forefinger and thumb of each hand, he secured her small nether lips spreading them apart. The cool air slid across the nub, and then his lips came down on her clit.
With his mouth secure on her, he flicked his tongue back and forth a few times. When she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pulled her forward against his mouth.
Shamelessly, she grinded against his face, moaned at the waterfall of pleasure traveling through her body. A pant started in her throat taking control of her vocal chords. “Oh, God! You’re driving me crazy. I don’t think I can take anymore.”
A muffled laugh sounded between her legs. “Feels good, does it? How about this?”
In the time it took him to suck in her clit, blow air on it, and suck it in again, her orgasm began to climb. Then he licked her canal, moving his tongue with slow steady precision. He had the mouth of a God.
She writhed under the pressure, reached down catching his head in her hands, and raked her fingers through his hair.
Though he released her butt, he kept sucking her pussy. He reached up and cupped her tits in his hands, taunted the nipples with intermittent pinches.
“Pinch them harder, please. Harder,” she practically yelled.
“Mmm….” He pinched harder and licked faster.
Heaven? Yes, she was in sex heaven!
Every single nerve in her body heightened in sensitivity, to the point she felt like a massive pile of live wires. Never, had any man in her life made her respond to a touch the way he was this moment. He kept his hands cupping her tits and kept a steady flow of nipple ministrations. The way he played with them made her want to bottle his hands for future use.
Her climax rose like a torpedo zoning in for its target, any moment she was going to come all over him. No wait, his face. A warning was probably in order. She placed her hand on his forehead, tried to push him away from her pussy. “Damon. I’m going to… I’m going to…”
Her ragged words stopped him briefly. And then he whispered, “I want you to come in my mouth, city girl. I told you earlier I want to taste you.”
Without missing a beat, he went back to his previous task—driving her utterly insane. She took his advice and let the orgasm take her. Her breath hitched when she decided to let the orgasm move, her limbs tensed, and moments later the tingling went through her body as she clenched her kegel muscles against the rhythmic dance. Several times.
With her body writhing, Damon continued to suck her pussy. Moans of pleasure left her throat.
When the last delightful orgasm finished ravaging her body, he came up off her, and crawled up her body, balancing himself with an elbow on either side of her head. “Do you feel pleasured, darlin’?”
“Yes. I—I never knew that could feel so incredible.”
He cocked an eyebrow, his mouth and cheeks still carrying the sheen of her liquid. “Are you telling me no man in your life has ever pleasured you with oral sex?”
Embarrassed, she looked away. “Well, yes.” Suddenly, she felt the urge to share. “My ex-husband, my first and only partner, didn’t believe in oral sex.” She sighed. “Well, that’s not exactly true.”
Obviously intrigued by her revelation, he pushed. “Meaning what?”
She looked away from his questioning and interested gaze a second time. “I wasn’t his type. He preferred a penis.” There she said it. She finally admitted to another human being that her ex-husband was gay.
Disbelief rearranged Damon’s once questioning expression. “Say what?”
“Please, don’t make me repeat it. Trust me, it was hard admitting the first time. My husband, correction ex-husband, preferred men.”
“How? Did you know that when you married him?”
Now it was her turn to glare at him with a disbelieving gaze. “Of course not. We were eighteen, just out of Julliard. He was my best friend all through school. He was my first in everything, from my first kiss, to everything in between, to losing my virginity.” She swallowed against the memories. “When I look back now… the signs that he preferred men were there… I just didn’t want to believe. You know, being gay is very common in my line of work, but I just refused to believe John even when he tried several times to break it to me. I chose to believe he would change or grow out of it. I was a fool. It wasn’t something he could just miraculously change, like underwear or socks. I just couldn’t bear to let him go. I loved him. And he was prepared to stay with me, seeing his lover on the side, even though he didn’t love me. I mean… he didn’t love me in the way I loved him.”
A new emotion showed on Damon’s face, and with the gentleness of a lover he slid in beside her body, draped a leg around her thighs and spooned her. “I’m sorry, Bristol. That type of revelation must’ve been a hard truth to learn and live through.”
Bristol pulled his hand into hers and squeezed it gently. “Thanks. That was the most devastating event that ever happened to me. Besides my mother’s death.” She hesitated. “Because of it, I’m damaged goods, Damon. You r
eally should run from me.”
“Look at me.” Slowly, he turned her to face him. “You are not damaged. Just hurt, darlin’. It’s okay to be cautious. At some point in our lives we’re all cautious about somethin’.”
His warm breath against her neck calmed her, made her want to believe him. His understanding and genuine concern touched her in all the right places. “Thank you, Damon. For this moment. And for the best foreplay I’ve had… ever.”
“You’re welcome, city girl. Trust me, there is more from where that came from. We should get ready and head out of here before I decide I need another heaping helping of Bristol Ashcombe. We’ll go to the campsite, then the party and then sneak away for our own kind of fun.”
He kissed her cheek, and just like every other time his lips touched her skin, a swarm of butterflies cascaded in her stomach. “And somewhere in there I do need to spend some time with my friend.”
“Darlin’, you can spend all the time you want with your friend, but when it’s bedtime, my bed is your final destination.”
Chapter Nine
Inside Damon’s Dodge Wrangler, driving away from the killer cabin, Bristol gazed in appreciation at the low-lying green foliage and the different rock formations and colors flanking the truck she missed on her arrival. As much as her eyes could take. Joshua trees and yuccas framed by yellow and red sandstone and brown and gray mountainsides covered the landscape for miles. It was as though someone painted a picture, dropping her smack down in the center.
She slid her gaze from nature for a moment, snuck a glimpse of Damon. What a gorgeous man. The wind coming in the open window swept his hair back as he drove, just enough to capture his high set cheekbones and kissable lips. Just the thought of what his lips did to her earlier replayed in her thoughts, and she sighed in quiet jubilation just from the vividness of the scrolling pictures. The scent of earth clung to the air, and as it mixed with his masculine scent she savored the new smell.