A Bluewater Bay Collection

by Witt, L. A.

  “Jesus, Shane.” I closed my eyes and pushed out a ragged breath. “You’re gonna make me come before I have a chance to fuck you.”

  Instantly, he stopped, throwing me off-balance all over again. “Can’t have that.”

  “I didn’t mean you had to stop.” Christ, I had to hold on even tighter to the footboard now. “We could always go twice, and—”

  “Nuh-uh.” He stood, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me. “I haven’t been fucked in over a year, and I don’t want to wait another minute.” The sheer desperation in his voice nearly unraveled me.

  I swallowed. “In that case, you’d better get on your hands and knees while I suit up.” I’d find my balance one way or the other, but I was not passing up the chance to fuck this man right now.

  “Love the sound of that,” he growled and kissed me again. It was tempting to stand there and make out with him some more, especially with his hot, naked body against mine, and that very hard dick next to my own, but . . .

  I nudged him toward the bed. “Let me get a condom.”

  He nodded, and as I took a condom and some lube from the nightstand, he climbed onto the bed. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought he was a little unsteady as he moved. Good. Wasn’t just me, then.

  And was that a tattoo on the back of his shoulder? Yes, it was. Three small clapboards, each with a date beside them. Probably movies he’d worked on or something. I’d ask about them later, when I wasn’t so focused on getting into him.

  With the condom on and generously lubricated, I knelt behind him. I slid my hand over his ass, but he shook his head.

  “Don’t even bother with fingers,” he pleaded. “Just go for it.”

  “But you said it’d been a while. I—”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve had a real dick.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “I’ve got toys. Trust me—I’m good.”

  All the air rushed out of my lungs. The thought of him getting off with a dildo was . . . well, that picture would be in my head next time I got off alone, that was for sure. Which was going to be right now if I didn’t get some control.

  “Come on,” he begged. “Please.”

  Who was I to say no to a man pleading for my cock? Besides someone who was too close to the edge already, but I took a few deep breaths to calm down. When I was sure I could move without going off too soon, I guided myself to him. He definitely didn’t need much prep—he was tight, and we still went slow, but as the head slid into him, the moan he released didn’t sound like stop or ow to me.

  “Holy . . .” He shivered and rocked back against me, driving me a little deeper. I could have teased him. Grabbed his hips. Forced him to accept each inch only when I was damn good and ready to give it to him. His eagerness turned me on, though, so I let him take the reins.

  I stayed as still as I could, and he rocked faster and faster, taking me all the way inside him. I bit my lip. Now this was hot—watching Shane impale himself on my cock, watching him ride me from below. Much more of this—

  “Easy,” I whispered. I slowed him with my hands on his hips. He whimpered in protest and tried to keep moving, but then I thrust into him as hard as I could, and he shuddered almost like he’d come.

  “Like that?” I asked.

  “M-more.”

  I did it again, and his arms wobbled underneath him. I didn’t want to knock him down on his face, so I went for the next best thing. With my weight, I pressed him forward. He resisted at first, but then his elbows buckled, and slowly, we sank down to the bed. I didn’t have as much range of motion here, not as much leverage, but I had Shane’s skin touching mine all the way down to our feet. And I was fucking him. Hard.

  I didn’t want to come yet, but I didn’t want to stop, so to hell with it—no holding back. I slid my arms under him and grabbed his shoulders, and with that leverage, thrust even harder. Shane moaned, arching under me as he took me deeper. Oh Jesus, he felt good. So, so good. Burying my face against his neck, I squeezed my eyes shut, pulled in a sharp breath, and forced myself as deep as he could take me. I thought I heard myself cursing, but with an orgasm this incredible rushing through me, I had no idea what I was saying.

  With a heavy sigh, I collapsed over him. “Oh, wow . . .”

  He laughed softly. Almost drunkenly. “Needed that. Whoa.”

  “Me too. And I’m not done with you yet.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Roll over.” I kissed the base of his neck. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  “’Kay.”

  I pulled out and left to ditch the condom and wash my hands. When I came back, he’d rolled over as I’d asked, and now was lying there, looking every bit like a man I couldn’t wait to fuck again. One arm was behind his head on the pillow. With his other hand, he slowly stroked his cock.

  “Oh, now that’s a sight I like to see in my bed,” I said as I joined him.

  “Yeah?” He squirmed, his forearm muscles rippling as he gripped his dick tighter. “And what’re you gonna do about it?”

  “I think I’ve got a few ideas.” I kissed his neck, then the middle of his chest. I started downward, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

  “Uh-uh.”

  “Hmm?” I pushed myself up, and he pulled me right back down on top of him, and before I could tell him I had every intention of sucking him off, he kissed me. Goose bumps prickled all along my spine. This wasn’t a quick kiss—he grabbed me, held on, and kissed me deep and hard, his breath rushing past my cheek like he’d been the one to come a minute ago.

  Without breaking the kiss, he guided my hand down to his cock. As I started stroking him, he kept his hand on mine, and we kept right on kissing while we worked his cock together.

  I loved the way his moans vibrated against my lips, and how he kneaded the back of my head as we kissed. I loved the way his rhythm faltered as he fucked into my hand, like he was so close—so close—and couldn’t keep it together anymore. I loved how his breath hitched, and how he could barely remember what to do with his lips as he got even harder in our hands.

  A gasp broke the kiss, and he dropped back onto the pillow. Eyes squeezed shut, he murmured, “Oh yeah, oh yeah, that’s good,” and thrust into my hand as the cords stuck out from his neck, and his face flushed, and I swore I felt like I was the one right on the edge.

  “Fuck!” His eyes flew open. His back arched. Semen jetted across his stomach, and I lost my breath. Watching him come, hearing him come, I was already fantasizing about the next time I’d make him come.

  He collapsed back onto the bed, and I just stared for a moment. The first time I’d seen him at the storm-battered Wolf’s Landing set, I’d decided he was sexy as hell. Seeing him now, in my rumpled bed, panting and shaking and sweating, with semen on his stomach and both our hands . . . nothing was sexier. Nothing.

  You could get seriously addictive, Shane.

  I kissed his damp forehead. “I knew I had to get you into bed as soon as possible.”

  “Yeah?” Shane licked his lips. “Why’s that?”

  “You saying we should’ve waited?”

  “No. No, I am absolutely not saying that.”

  “Didn’t think so.” I grinned. “The sooner we fucked, the sooner we can fuck again.”

  Shane moaned, digging his fingers into my sides. “Jesus.”

  “Unless you don’t like that idea?”

  “Never said that.” He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me down for a kiss that told me he was definitely on board with fucking again as soon as possible.

  I reached for the tissues next to the bed. As we cleaned ourselves up, Jack’s whining turned both our heads.

  “She really wants to come in here, doesn’t she?”

  “He. And yes.” I rolled my eyes. “He knows damn well I’ll let him in before I go to sleep, but he hates when I shut the door.”

  Shane smiled and tossed the tissues into the trash can. “He can come in. I like dogs.” The smile turned to a playful s
mirk. “I mean, assuming he’s not one of those dogs you can’t get out of bed when you want him to.”

  I laughed. “No, if I tell him to get down, he will.”

  “Well, then—let him in.”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course. I love animals.” He nodded toward the door. “And it sounds like he’d be happier in here than out there.”

  “He will be.” We pulled the covers up, and I went to let Jack in. “All right, prepare for the running of the bull.” I opened the door, and Jack exploded into the room. As he always did when I had someone in my bed, he launched onto the bed, threw himself down right in the middle, rolled on his back, and thumped his tail violently on the mattress.

  Shane moved his legs out of the line of fire. “Jesus, that tail really is a weapon, isn’t it?”

  “Oh my God, yes.” I climbed into bed on the other side, careful not to get thwacked myself as I slid my legs under the covers. “He’s left bruises on me and damn near knocked the cats out a time or two.”

  Shane laughed, tousling Jack’s floppy ears. “Do you do that? Really?”

  The tail thumped even harder, and I smiled. I had to admit, there were few ways a person could endear himself to me faster than by making friends with my pets. They were as close to a family as I had these days, and someone who didn’t mind paying them attention was going to land himself pretty damn high on my list.

  “So what is he?” Shane glanced at me. “Boxer?”

  “And something else. I got him from the boxer rescue, but God only knows what else is in there.”

  “Something big, I’m guessing.”

  I laughed. “No shit. Probably part Great Dane or something.”

  “Or Clydesdale.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.” I patted Jack’s neck. “If he were much bigger, I could use him to tow cars out of ditches. Make a fortune.”

  “Until his tail knocked off their bumper or something.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  He lay back and laced his hands behind his head on the pillow. With a grin on his lips, he closed his eyes and sighed. “God, I needed this tonight.”

  “You and me both.”

  “Don’t tell anyone I work with,” he slurred, “but I’m really fucking glad that tree came down.”

  “Secret’s safe with me.” I chuckled. “Every cloud’s got a silver lining, right?”

  He met my gaze. “Sometimes even a silver fox.”

  “Hey, I’m not that old.”

  “No, but . . .” He reached up and ran his fingers through my short hair. “You’ve got the silver thing going. And it looks good.”

  “Thanks.” I laughed self-consciously. I’d been disappointed when the gray had started coming in more heavily over the last few years. A few strands here and there were one thing. When the white had started to outnumber the brown around the time I’d turned forty, the over-the-hill jokes from my younger colleagues hadn’t been quite as funny. But it turned out some guys dug the graying—or mostly grayed—look. Including, as it happened, the one in my bed tonight.

  Shane sighed again and closed his eyes. “Man. I’m gonna fall asleep.”

  “I’m not boring you, am I?”

  “Not at all. I just haven’t come like that in a long time.”

  “Well, if you stay awake, I can pretty much guarantee it won’t be as long before you come like that again.”

  Opening his eyes, Shane bit his lip and squirmed. “Definitely a reason to stay awake.”

  “I would think so.”

  Our eyes met, and he grinned. My spine tingled. I still couldn’t believe this gorgeous man was lying here naked in my bed. I didn’t have too much trouble finding sex when I wanted it—there was usually at least one horny man within a two-hour drive who was willing to scratch my back if I scratched his. It wasn’t very often, though, that I landed a guy who was the stuff of fantasies.

  It didn’t even matter that I wasn’t in my twenties anymore—my body was already rallying for another go-around. Why the hell wouldn’t it?

  Only one problem . . .

  “Jack.” I pointed at the floor. “Down.”

  He quickly jumped to his feet, leaped over Shane, and landed on the floor with a heavy thud.

  Shane turned on his side and slid closer to me. “Well, now that we have some room . . .”

  “Mm-hmm. We do.” I put my arm over Shane’s waist and drew him to me. “What do you think we should do with it?”

  “Oh, I can think of a few things.”

  And he kissed me.

  Chapter 5

  Shane

  It was almost one o’clock before we pried ourselves off each other. Aaron drove me back to the bar where I was parked, and it was another twenty minutes before I finally got out of his car. Pity it didn’t have a backseat, or something probably would’ve gone down.

  I shivered as I started my car and watched him drive away. I wondered if sex in the backseat was still hot as an adult, especially when we were more experienced than fumbling teenagers. It hadn’t been terribly comfortable back then, and would probably be extra complicated now that we were older and not as flexible, but still. There had always been something amazingly arousing about fooling around in the back of a car. Did that hold up as an adult?

  Maybe I should see if Aaron wants to try.

  Not tonight, though. He had already gone while I sat here in an idling car in the Friends & Neighbors parking lot.

  Another night. For now, time to go home before I fell asleep at the wheel.

  On the way, I thought about stopping by my ex-husband’s to get the kids, but decided against it. They were all undoubtedly sound asleep by now. I’d texted him on the way to Aaron’s to let him know I’d be late, and he’d told me not to worry about it. Wasn’t like it was unusual for them to stay over at his place, especially when I had night shoots. The only difference this time was I hadn’t sent their school bags with them because I’d expected to be home, but he’d said he would drop the kids at my house in the morning in time to catch their buses. I owed him big-time.

  For now, I needed to go home and get some sleep so I could function on set tomorrow. Today. Whatever.

  At the crack of dawn, just as I was dragging my ass into the kitchen for my first cup of coffee, the front door opened. Michael and Christian thundered in, and a moment later, Desiree and Leo appeared.

  All three kids were dressed and almost ready for school. As always, their backpacks were lined up by the door—I required it before they went to bed or before I took them to Leo’s—so all they needed was to have breakfast and brush their teeth, and they were good to go.

  Once I’d put some cereal in front of the boys and Desiree was busy making her own breakfast, I went into the living room with Leo.

  “Hey, thanks for watching them last night,” I said.

  He smiled. “Anytime. It’s always nice to see them.”

  “They definitely agree.”

  “So how was your evening?” He winked. “Have a good time?”

  My face burned. “Uh . . .”

  “Relax.” He elbowed me gently. “I’m just busting your chops.”

  “Uh-huh. And yes, I did.” I rubbed the back of my neck, which ached along with the rest of my body. “I might need you to babysit again. We’ll see.”

  “Anytime, Shane. You know that. Especially if it means you’re getting your butt out of the house for a change.” Before I could respond, he looked at his phone. “All right, my first appointment’s an early one, so I need to go.”

  “Okay. Thanks again.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  We locked eyes. It was funny how after being separated for over a year, I still never knew quite how we were supposed to say good-bye. Even a kiss on the cheek or a quick hug seemed too intimate and too platonic at the same time. A handshake was way too formal. It was the only lingering weirdness after the divorce, though, so I couldn’t really complain.

  Finally, he squ
eezed my shoulder, offered another quick smile, and left.

  I stood there for a moment, wondering how long that last bit of awkwardness would go on before we could go our separate ways without that uncomfortable pause. To be fair, it was better than a year ago. It had been ever since the night we’d sat down and made a decision to be civil for the sake of the kids, and that civility had quickly become genuine instead of an act. Apparently our relationship had been its own kiss of death. Once it was out of the way and we could be friends and co-parents, everything was fine.

  Almost everything.

  Leo headed off to work, and I went back into the kitchen to figure out what my sons were fighting about this time.

  * * *

  My job was a physically demanding one, and I felt Aaron at every turn. The ache in my back. The more intense one in my ass. The odd bruise that never seemed to miss an opportunity to graze a tripod stand or a grip head. The bone-deep fatigue that had me dragging my feet even after two high-octane espressos in rapid succession.

  But there was no slowing down in this line of work, especially in the aftermath of the tree disaster. We’d already lost two full days of production to the storm itself.

  My episode had been right in the middle of shooting when the storm hit, so we’d been pretty epically fucked. We’d been scrambling ever since to rebuild and resume. There were even rumors that the studio was going to bite the bullet and start letting us put in more overtime, which would cost them a pretty penny thanks to our union. Most of us had mixed feelings about that. The overtime pay was nice. The overtime itself wasn’t. We already worked long shifts and crazy schedules.

  Our director, Eric Matthews, was new to Wolf’s Landing, so wasn’t it just Murphy’s Law that his first episode’s shooting schedule was torpedoed by a falling tree? If ever there was a moment for a director to shine, though, it was when some unforeseen circumstance interrupted production, and damn if he didn’t come through. He’d pored over the script, and in almost no time, he’d rejigged the affected scenes so we could shoot elsewhere while the soundstage was repaired.