by Dee Carney
“Oh my God,” he offered. A half-assed compliment, but all he could manage. If he thought her derailment of their conversation could distract him, he had no idea what the sight of her near-nakedness would do. After another beat, he said, “You called me your man earlier.”
She started to unloop his belt. “I did.”
“Did you mean it?”
Her chin tilted as she raised her eyes to look at him. “Of course. You don’t think I hop into bed with all of my models do you?”
“No, of course not.” He could have high-fived the nearest person after that confession. The ugly thought never actually raised to the forefront of his consciousness, but damn it came close. “But Tanya, sometimes…”
“You said that I never saw you for you.”
Her hands pushed back the flaps of his shirt she’d managed to unbutton. He toed off his shoes and helped her with the pleated khakis he wore. After she spoke, he paused, however. “Every time you looked at me, it was as if you could only see what you would do next for your artwork. You made me wonder…”
His trousers dropped and Tanya lowered herself to the ground with them. The heat of her breath traced along his thigh as she helped him step out of the remains of his clothing. She mumbled something incomprehensible.
“As much as I love the thought of you down there, I can’t hear you. What was that?” He gripped beneath her arm and helped her to rise.
Tanya blew out a breath. “I said, things change.”
“When? When did things change?” She started to speak, again so softly he wasn’t sure of her words. “Uh unh. Talk to me.”
Tanya backed toward the bed. “This isn’t the time for this.”
He followed. Naturally. “This is the perfect time. I want you so badly the middle of my chest hurts with every second I delay being inside you, but I need to hear this from you, sweetheart.”
She gave up putting off the inevitable. He had to know. “When things started heating up, I started to notice you. Really notice you. And when you held me after the fire and you offered me your home, a place to sleep. Without a word from me, you cleaned up the nightmare of the aftermath.” She did this sexy little backwards crawl onto the bed. And damn she looked so perfect there. “But it was at the art show, the first time I saw what you did for me, I knew…”
“Knew what?”
“I knew that I’d been falling for you all this time. Sneakily. Stealthily. Truly…falling for you.”
She didn’t profess love, not yet, but he could live with that for now. She would get there soon enough. So there was really only one lesson left. One he wanted her to remember always. His blood simmered low when he asked, “So we’ve left behind the typical five senses everyone thinks of, but there’s one left, right?”
“Right,” she said, smiling.
He crawled over her, lowering his body until they touched bare skin to bare skin. The soft curves of her body, the ones he’d all but idolized, welcomed him. He brought his hand to her breast, touching it not in a sexual way, but resting his palm against the insistent thump of her heart.
“There’s one sense that’s left to recognize. Intuition. Use it now. Feel and know what’s happening here.” He pressed lightly on her chest, then pointed to his own. “And here.”
Chapter Nine
Tanya stared into his dazzling, soulful eyes and in them found the safety, adoration and love he wanted her to feel. His body molded so perfectly against hers, every inch of his skin warming her through until she thought her body generated enough heat to set fire to the bed beneath them. And when his lips touched down against hers, his kiss was so tender, so full of meaning, she could have drifted away from the pleasure of it all.
Joe’s fingers feathered down her neck, stopping to trace the choker circling it. “This is beautiful on you,” he murmured before his mouth trailed where his touch had just been.
Heat licked at her skin. Maybe Joe’s fingers or maybe his tongue. But every place he touched sent more of that molten sensation skittering over her flesh. Her thighs trapped the hard length of his cock. The remnants of the intense orgasm he gave her earlier never left, but remained a constant hum, keeping her panties moist in the few hours they spent at the art show. Now with his erection rubbing against her lips, they were saturated with her body's moisture. When he removed the sodden material, for certain her cream would track down her thighs.
Joe's clever hands slid down, cupping her breasts before thumbing stiffened nipples into points of painful delight. By the time he dipped down to take one in his mouth, she arched toward him, bodily begging him to relieve some of the aching need curling through her very soul. “God, yes, please Joe,” she moaned.
So very nice. Moist tongue. Hot breath. Erotic pull.
He laved over her, his attention fixed on that one spot. Electric bolts streaked out and left to release into the atmosphere somewhere near her toes.
His other hand curled around the strip of panties covering her hips. Fabric tightened against her as he pulled, a desperate clawing meant to remove the thin bit of material separating her from him. Later, she might regret the rough attention on the expensive lingerie, but right now, she’d burn the damned thing off herself if it helped remove her panties that much quicker.
She writhed, rolling her hips, milking him with her thighs, all but begging for him to finally put the cock she craved for months, the cock that made her mouth water with anticipation, inside of her body and quench the need threatening to take her down permanently.
But his mouth made those wonderful sensations and she didn’t know where to concentrate first or next. Her mind split between swollen breasts and her saturated pussy, between wanting more of his hands, his mouth, his cock. The need was so great, so all-consuming.
He trailed a moist path down her sternum, dipping into her belly button before delving further down. He paused over the dense thatch of dark curls, inhaling deeply enough that she felt the expansion of his chest and the self-satisfied moan that vibrated through her skin.
“I told you that I was going to ruin that thing you were wearing, didn’t I?” he mumbled against her thigh.
Yes, ruin the skirt. Ruin the bed. He could ruin whatever he wanted so long as he didn't move from that spot. “Yeah,” she replied breathlessly.
“Maybe I’ll turn these into shreds, instead.” He tightened his grip on her panties, still covering the apex of her sex. On any other day, she might have shrieked at the mere suggestion, but right now, she’d hand him the scissors. Every time he spoke, his breath touched down on her heady moisture, sending an instant reminder of just how much she wanted—needed—him.
There was a brief spark of pain when he tugged, but then just like that, he broke the delicate tie of fabric, until at last, nothing separated her from her man.
Tanya parted her thighs and Joe brought his hands behind her knees, spreading her wide before him. She held the position, breath held, body humming. His strangled groan, his desperate ragged breathing sent pride soaring through her, but when his fingers slid through the pool of moisture before caressing the hood of her clit, she bucked and all conscious thought fled.
There was a moment of reprieve, a second that allowed her to catch her breath before Joe’s mouth descended. Her hands shot out to the bunched sheets, gripping them with fists, before the quivers started. He ravaged her pussy, dipping and tasting, nipping and sucking until the quivers turned into full-blown tremors. Those delicious shockwaves raced out from her belly and exploded into her limbs until they had no place left to go except out of her mouth in a scream of abject pleasure, of ultimate release, that held her in its grip sure and true.
Then he was there. Kissing her, curling his tongue into her mouth. Sharing the taste of her body with her. And his cock, his thick, blood-engorged cock pressed eagerly forward, fueling the shudders still gripping her clenching pussy. Warning bells sounded in the back of her hazy mind, but her Joe, her man, despite the frenzy of the moment, remained always in contro
l.
“Oh my God, don’t stop!” she cried, desperate, afraid that yet again they would be interrupted. He grinned and broke contact with her long enough to almost throw the top drawer of his nightstand out of its tracks. She watched his desperate hunt, a groping search for something within and when he withdrew the small packets a moment later, a wave of relief for the thing she couldn’t remember, but he did, enveloped her.
He opened then unrolled the condom quickly, covering a dribble of moisture he leaked before she could use a finger to swipe it away. Next time she would taste him, but right now, she needed him inside of her. Deep in her belly, the fires burning there demanded she put them out, that she accept him now and end this erotic torment. Before she could voice a protest, to hurry him along to ease the pain, he was there. He kissed her again, his once erratic breathing slowing to a crawl. And with the same easy pace, he pushed forward, splitting her swollen nether lips with the head of his cock. Pushing forward and kissing her.
“Open your eyes, Tanya,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers.
Her body accepted him easily, his length gliding inch by agonizing inch forward. She managed to open her eyes, accepting more of his drugging kisses, holding her breath against his invasion.
“This is the time,” he said. She tilted her hips, opening herself to him. Taking all of him in. “In this moment, you have to know...” He filled her completely, stretching her wider, making a demand that she was helpless but to give in to.
“Sweetheart, every time I make love to you, remember today.” Her back arched, his body spearing her further. The depths of his eyes, the way he gazed upon her, echoed the sentiments he would tell her. “Remember the first day I showed you my love and know it will never be greater than it is right now.” And at last, he was seated deep within her.
Time passed, unending, but Joe loved her bodily. Took her to soaring heights before pulling her out of the reaches of heaven only seconds before resting there.
Tanya bit her lip, almost mangled it to bleeding. Her soft cries of his name, the whimpered oh God and Joe encouraged his ardor. When he rocketed her there only minutes later, he allowed her to dissolve in his arms as she was swept away on erotic highs that left her panting and boneless. Only to do it again. And again.
She was hoarse, knew for certain his neighbors now knew his name if they hadn’t before, but always she craved more. When she decided she needed Joe like air, she hadn’t realized how true that had been. He gave and gave of himself and all he asked for in return was her.
Perspiration gathered between their bodies and it kept them connected despite each withdrawal that made her want to weep. But when he filled her again, thrusts that made her breath catch, she greedily accepted him.
Joe. Her Joe. The man she loved, loved her well.
The words stood poised on her lips and each time she would voice them, a sigh of pleasure or a moan of rapture escaped instead. Her thoughts whirled on each other. Thoughts of loving and their future. Of now and of forever. Of his skin against hers, his body inside hers. Their lives together.
He nestled his face along her neck, pressing soft kisses there. His breaths puffed against her skin, his heartbeat pounding against the skin of her chest. Every time she thought he would end their loving, would allow her to tilt again all the way over into the reaches of orgasm, he changed position. At times his strokes touched a tender spot that made her cry out. On others, he used clever fingers to stimulate her clit into screaming sensitivity. Always though, he whispered sweet words. “I’m lost in you. My heart, my soul…hopelessly lost.”
“Are you? Show me…” Heart held hostage, swollen with emotion, she pushed his boundaries. Delved deep and conjured up some of the dominance from before. Tanya caught his blue-eyed gaze and held it. “Make me come again, Joe.”
Dipping down, he nipped the side of her neck with his teeth. “I’m trying, sweetheart,” he asserted. “God, I’m trying.”
Perspiration peppered his brow and she had no doubt he meant it, but that didn’t satisfy her inner dominatrix. Placing a finger beneath his chin, she ordered, “Now.”
Joe growled low, a sound that sent a shiver curling around her spine. He bit down again, harder, the pain so erotic, so decadent, her pussy clenched around him in response. His muscles strained as he reared back, tilting her pelvis and exposing her clit. Balls still slapping against her ass, he pinched the peak of nerves. Tanya stiffened and screamed, her entire being located on that sinful spot.
She went blind for a split second, or at least it seemed that way. Or maybe that’s what happened when he sent her hurtling toward the stars. Either way, she had no complaints.
Chest heaving, she gently drifted down to earth and blinked back the sparks flying before her vision. A wide grin splitting her face. Oh yeah. Her man Joe.
Definitely a keeper.
She tugged him close again, trailed her fingers along his back, ran them through the black curls on his chest. The air was redolent with their coupling, with the used scent of his cologne and her floral perfume. Exhausted, the room thick with her fading cries, her body wrung dry, she cupped his face in her hands and looked deep into his eyes. She called forth the courage she needed to open her heart. Found the intuition within her that verified what he showed her, told her. Located the words she needed to tell him. They were simple, meaningful. Life changing.
“Joe,” she murmured, stroking his jaw. “My beautiful Joe…” She rolled her hips, urging him to push himself deeper. Her grip along his shoulders tightened to spur him to work harder. “I—I love you.”
It must have been the trigger he needed. Tanya cried out, but Joe swallowed down the sound, small shudders overtaking him as they kissed. His cock jerked within her, the condom capturing the jets of his essence spilling forth. One day she would love him without that barrier for she wanted nothing between them when they found precious release with each other. And she was certain there would be more moments like this. More days and nights of touching and kissing and loving.
When at last his breathing eased, his thrusting stilled. His mouth held on to hers, his tongue dancing with hers. Her senses roiled with feelings she didn’t fight. She let the waves of emotion carry her as they kissed, their bodies fighting to stay connected for a few last seconds before forced to separate.
How she loved this man. Her Joe. And she already knew he loved her back. Yes, there would be more nights like this. She could afford to let him go temporarily. He would be back.
Joe pulled free of her, discarding the condom before its contents spilled. By the time he returned to bed, she’d come to a decision. This last “lesson” had been the most important. The one, as he’d instructed, that she would remember always.
“Where are you going?” he asked sleepily when she withdrew from his embrace a few minutes later.
Tanya brought his hand to her mouth, pressed her lips against the palm. “I’m an artist, Joe, first and foremost. Sometimes to the point that I forget I’m a woman too.” She laughed. “When I look at something unique, or spy the beauty of something, my first instinct is to capture it on paper.”
She felt the weight of his gaze when she released him, found his shirt on the floor and slipped it on. When she returned his scrutiny, she saw the satisfaction of sex etched onto his tired face. So typically male, he would be asleep in no time.
“Lay there, baby. The muscles, the lines, the beauty of my model, I want to memorize right now. You look like a dream.”
He yawned. “Your model, huh?”
She almost hesitated, almost questioned whether he could stand that she would always see him in that light; as a beautiful man who deserved to be immortalized. But there was understanding behind the way he looked at her. Acceptance in the way he repositioned himself slightly, readiness for her to sketch his form for as long as it took to make her satisfied. He didn’t have to know it was him in slumber she wanted to capture this time.
Her mouth curved up into a smile as she started to
walk away. “Yeah, my model. My model, my Joe.” She glanced at him in time to see his heavy eyelids slipping closed. She whispered, “My love.”
The End
About the Author
Dee Carney began writing short stories in middle school, but she did not attempt completion of a novel until almost ten years later—which, despite good intentions, she never finished. Almost ten additional years later, she challenged herself to begin writing again, and her love for storytelling was rekindled.
Now, Dee is a bestselling, award-winning author who lives at home in Georgia with her husband, two dogs and a cat. When not writing, Dee is usually curled up on the couch with a good book!
To learn more about all of Dee’s books, please visit her at http://www.deecarney.com.
Turn the page for the first chapter of KEEPING PACE from Dee Carney…
Chapter One
I could say some sort of spell kept me transfixed to the spot as I watched my neighbor’s son masturbate, and it would almost be the truth.
I certainly couldn’t blame the glass of Pinot Noir; I’d barely had a sip. Instead, I’d swirled the glass, letting the crisp evening air infuse into the rich liquid. This habit of mine, pouring a glass of wine as soon as I walked through the door, was becoming expensive yet was an indulgence I loathed to break. There was something to kicking off my shoes and padding barefoot through the dimly lit house to head for the kitchen, where I’d find comfort in a bottle.
Tonight I’d decided to head outdoors. The buttons at the top of my blouse had been loosened, the button at my waist similarly unfastened. Needing to shake off my day, I pulled damp air into my lungs. Rain would be coming soon. Already the smell of grass blossomed, as if the blades reached for the heavens in their quest to be blessed with the droplets of moisture.