Consumed By You

by Lauren Blakely

  He craved turning her on, like nothing he’d experienced. He longed to explore every avenue of sex with her, to know her body in every way, even this way—with the slightest bit of pain and pleasure mingled together. But as he dropped his hand once more to swat her rear, Henry voiced his opinion again.

  And he had one hell of an opinion.

  The Jack Russell barked loudly. It was a demanding sound. A what the hell gives? noise. Travis broke contact to check on him. Henry sat at the top of the stairs, barking with his snout high in the air, the expression on his face one of complete dissatisfaction with the people.

  “What the…?”

  Then it hit Travis. He had a hunch that Henry wasn’t so fond of what Travis was doing with his palm. Testing the canine, Travis lifted his hand in the air, as if he were about to spank Cara.

  The bark turned into a furious howl.

  Travis widened his eyes and turned to Cara. She’d clasped her palm over her mouth in surprise.

  “Apparently he disapproves of spanking,” he said with a wry smile.

  “Quite a bit.”

  Travis tipped his head to the dog and joked. “Think you can train that out of him?”

  “I can honestly say I’d never had to train a dog to stop barking when a person is being spanked in the heat of the moment,” she said, her lips curved in a naughty grin. “But I know I can figure it out. Just, maybe, not this second. Because I’d rather—”

  “Be spanked again?”

  “Something like that,” she said suggestively.

  “Let me put him in the yard, and I can spank you on my bed.”

  She froze when he said that word. Bed. They hadn’t made it to the bed during this fling; that had been intentional. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d suggested it now, or if there was something more to his unexpected change of tune. But before he could try to make sense of it himself, she shook her head, and said, “Let’s trade places with Henry. Leave him in the house. We’ll go outside.”

  He wasn’t about to argue with having Cara al fresco, so he grabbed a towel from the linen closet and headed outside, shutting the door behind him, leaving Henry to stare forlornly at the sliding glass.

  His fence was high and neighbors shouldn’t be able to see, but even if they did, he honestly didn’t care. Not when Cara tugged off her tank top, unsnapped her bra, and stepped out of her panties in less than ten seconds.

  She worked his zipper down as he grabbed a condom from his pocket. Soon, they were both in full birthday suits, the warm air on their skin. She dropped to her hands and knees, presenting her creamy skin for another swatting. He happily obliged, once, twice, three times, savoring her heated reaction to each smack. He didn’t hit her hard; he used just the right amount of pressure to make her moan and wriggle. Then he smoothed his hand over her backside, rubbing out the sting. His fingers darted between her legs.

  Oh fuck. She was liquid. Need slammed into him when he felt her wetness. “You’re so turned on right now, aren’t you?” The question was a rhetorical one, because the evidence was incontrovertible.

  “Everything you do turns me on, Travis,” she said, looking back at him, the expression in her eyes both lustful and trusting. God, she was stunning, so confident and so honest with her own sexuality. It floored him and stoked his desire at the same time.

  “You’ve been bad enough. I have to be inside you now,” he said, then wasted no time rolling on the condom. He gripped her hips and sank into her.

  A tremor of intense pleasure rolled through him as he filled her completely.

  They both moaned in unison.

  Then he took her.

  He held on tight, driving into her furiously, sinking as deep into her as he could go. The sound of their bodies slapping together urged him on. His blood roared, his heart pounded, her moans triggering a fresh round of pleasure in his body.

  There was nothing else in the world but this animalistic fever as he thrust faster, harder, deeper. He reached for her hair, twisting it in his fist and gripping hard. He slinked his other hand around her waist, dropping it between her legs as he thrust. He rubbed her clit, coaxing an orgasm from her as she cried out, “I’m coming.”

  Then, he pulled her up, so he was sitting on his knees and they were both upright as he thrust into her like that. Her body aligned beautifully with his. He swore he’d never experienced anything like this connection before. The intensity blew his mind. It torched his body. In his arms, she was his completely, and that’s where he wanted her, chasing the edge of bliss with him and him alone.

  “We fucking fit perfectly, don’t we?” he said roughly in her ear as his spine ignited with the start of his own climax.

  “So perfectly,” she echoed as she rocked back and he drove into her, coming with her in a cacophony of moans and groans and cries.

  Soon, he eased out, looped his arms around her, and tugged her in close, pulling her next to him on the towel. She sighed, a lovely, contented sound that warmed his heart.

  He blinked.

  That was strange. It was utterly weird to switch from that kind of furious fucking, to this kind of cuddling. Funny, how he could go from claiming her like a wild man—they were goddamn animals screwing doggy style, for fuck’s sake—to wanting to hold her close. It was the oddest changeup he’d ever felt, having these two conflicting wishes present in his heart at once.

  But, he thought, as his rational, risk-assessing mind kicked back in, as long as he kept those wishes separate, he’d be safe.

  Besides, they’d both be in the clear in a few days, when moments like these ended. They’d move on—him to his single ways, her to…

  The thought of her moving on was a kick in his chest. It was far too unpleasant for him to consider when she was here in his arms, all soft and snug.

  Henry pawed at the sliding glass door, whining. Travis found himself wishing that Cara could start the I’m-cool-with-you-spanking-her training stat, so that he could do this again, and again, and again.

  He chuckled silently. He could barely believe he wanted a dog who was trained not to cock block a spanking.

  But what he really wanted was for this not to end.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The trap had been set.

  All that was left in these two weeks of training was for Henry to prove he’d mastered his instincts and could find the will to resist something succulent.

  Cara waited patiently on the park bench. She wore a short little skirt and a red shirt, and those legs he adored were on display in the June sun. He looked in her direction and she waved. He nodded back.

  Cara’s sister Stacy was strolling nonchalantly around the town square, having volunteered to be the guinea pig to tempt his dog.

  Stacy was perfect for the job because Henry hadn’t met her yet. She was as much a stranger as anyone would ever be, and behaving himself in front of a person he’d never met would be a huge accomplishment and a big sign that he was ready for the fireman’s auction—ready to save the day for the Families of Fallen Firefighters.

  Henry walked in a perfect heel, ignoring all the other dogs out for late afternoon walks. He stayed in a trot, keeping pace with Travis, exactly what he’d have to do on stage that coming weekend.

  A brief fleet of nerves docked in Travis’s chest as Henry neared Stacy. This would be a hard task for any dog. Especially a lover of treats and an aficionado of ladies’ legs, because he was about to be tempted by both. Travis hoped fiercely that Henry would prove his mettle as the very pregnant Stacy approached him.

  Stacy pointed at Henry and called out loudly, “Oh my god, your dog is so cute. What’s his name?”

  Travis answered as he stopped walking. “This is Henry. He’s a Jack Russell.”

  “Can I pet him?”

  “Of course.”

  Carefully, with a hand on her big belly, Stacy bent down and scratched Henry’s chin. The dog’s ears perked up, and then his snout rose in the air. Travis tensed. “C’mon buddy. You can do it,”
he said under his breath, because it was obvious Henry had sniffed the most delicious thing in the world.

  The peanut butter slathered on Stacy’s leg.

  One hundred percent pure dog trap.

  Travis imagined Henry was floating on a cloud of dog lust right now, fantasizing about licking every last bit off Cara’s sister’s leg. He sniffed again and tried briefly to inch closer and lap up the goods, but Travis uttered a firm command. “Sit, Henry.”

  And the dog obeyed, his rear going straight to the ground. From several feet away, Cara clapped in glee. Travis glanced over at her; she was beaming. She had known exactly how to handle both dog and owner, and help them realize their full potential. Travis had no guarantee of winning anything, but he was confident that his secret weapon was locked and loaded, even though it meant the end of the most fantastic two-week tryst of his life.

  …

  As she walked over to the three of them, Cara held her shoulders high, a burst of pride in her chest at the little dog’s progress.

  “He did great,” she said, bending down to scratch Henry’s chin in praise. Then she rose, doing her best to put on a happy face. She was genuinely happy, but she was also sad that Henry’s success meant Travis no longer needed her. Their days were numbered in the low single digits now. “Both of you did. You’re going to be fantastic this weekend,” she said, as brightly as she could.

  Travis draped an arm around her briefly, and the move felt like it was just for her, even though his words were for all ears. “We’re lucky to have a very good teacher.”

  Stacy pointed to the dog. “I’m very impressed with him. He sure seems ready. But you?” She arched an eyebrow and appraised Travis’s appearance from head to toe. Cara furrowed her brow because she couldn’t figure out what issue Stacy could possibly have with this handsome specimen of man—he was the fantasy fireman, from his firm, sturdy arms, to his broad, strapping chest, to that gorgeous face and piercing blue eyes, and the thick, dark hair that Cara loved running her fingers through. Come to think of it, that hair was the ideal length for holding onto, as Cara had noticed the last few times she’d been with him.

  “Me?” Travis asked, tilting his head to the side.

  Stacy reached out and fingered a strand of his hair. “You might want to consider stopping by for a little trim. Ladies do like a nice, crisp cut on a man. It might make you even more handsome.”

  A plume of jealousy flared up in Cara’s chest. Ladies. Anyone out there—in Hidden Oaks, in the county, in the whole damn state—could win Travis. Even if it was only for one date, the notion of him out with anyone but her was a black cloud darkening her day.

  He turned to Cara. “What do you think? Do I need a trim?” His voice was soft and low, and it seemed to feather over her skin and skim down her back. Warmth shimmied along her spine from the way his gaze locked with hers.

  A few strands of his hair fell onto his forehead. Before she thought better off it, she brushed them away from his eyes. He seemed to be holding his breath, or maybe he was holding back, fighting the overwhelming urge to touch her, too. Maybe he was even remembering last night, when they’d christened her washing machine since they’d already broken in the dryer, and he’d rocked her world to the spin cycle. Or her couch the night before, when she’d straddled him and rode him hard, reverse cowgirl style. Hell, she was thinking of all those times, because the last several days had passed in a blur of wild sex and intensive dog training.

  She’d forced herself to focus on those two things only, working hard to avoid pesky matters like feelings. During their brief affair, Cara had kept her schedule as packed as a can of sardines, as if bookending Travis would insulate her from wanting more than she already had from that man. She reasoned that if their evenings always had an end in sight, the re-entry into the Travis-less, post-fling world in a few days wouldn’t be a cruel awakening.

  That’s what she’d told herself, every time he’d said something sweet, did something kind, made her laugh.

  He’d outlined his position on relationships quite clearly, so there was no reason to think the two of them would ever amount to more than these few weeks. So she’d applied her best rinse-and-repeat mantra of just a fling, reminding herself over and over not to fall head over heels for a man who had made it clear that commitment was a four-letter word.

  Hair, however, was a sexy word. She didn’t let go of his hair, just kept running it between her thumb and forefinger, as if no one else was around, considering if he needed a trim. “I think you’d look quite handsome with a haircut,” she said softly, and it was as if they existed in a cocoon of togetherness there in the town square, even though his dog and her sister were next to them.

  Stacy cleared her throat. “Well, I think I’d better head back to work and get this peanut butter off my legs. Feel free to stop by for a cut. I’ll be open for another hour,” she said, then turned toward the salon.

  “Should I take her up on her offer now?”

  Cara dropped her hand on his arm, stopping him. “No. I have a better idea.”

  …

  The bell tinkled on the door to Stacy’s salon as Cara slipped inside, a latte in hand. She’d popped into the local coffee shop before stopping by. Stacy was applying color to the Hidden Oaks librarian’s hair, a young and pretty blonde named Kelly. Cara knew her because she’d taken Stacy’s four-year-old son to the library occasionally for story time.

  “Hi, Cara,” Kelly said as she headed to the booth. “Is Travis all ready for the Bachelor Fireman’s Auction this weekend?”

  Cara stopped in her tracks and shot her sister a curious look.

  “What? Was it some secret that you’re prepping him?” Stacy said, giving Cara a What gives? shrug.

  “No. Of course not,” she said, not entirely surely why she’d frozen at the mention of his name. Maybe it was because she and Travis were linked together, but not quite linked the way she wanted.

  “Hey, Kelly. You should bid on Travis,” Stacy said, nudging Kelly’s shoulder.

  The flicker of jealousy came roaring back, headstrong and fierce. Cara swore she would breathe fire if she spoke. She clamped her lips shut.

  Kelly laughed politely and shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know that I would ever have the guts to do that,” she said.

  “You so can,” Stacy said, egging her on. “You’ve got the funds, don’t you? Didn’t you sell a matchmaking app to some tech giant? Opening bids for the men are usually around five hundred dollars and the money goes to charity.”

  “That is true. I do have enough,” Kelly said, biting her lip as if she were noodling on the idea of bidding on Cara’s man. Cara had half a mind to tackle her sister. The presence of that huge basketball in Stacy’s mid-section kept her wedge sandals firmly rooted to the hardwood floor. “Maybe I could. The money does go to a good cause, and he’s single and all.”

  Cara clenched her fists, her right hand nearly crushing the coffee cup. Stacy wrapped a piece of tinfoil around a strand of Kelly’s hair, continuing her push. “Besides, if it’s not you, it’ll be some grand old dame of the vineyards who makes a play for him. You have to go for it, don’t you think, Cara?”

  Cara narrowed her eyes, positive that red clouds were billowing out of them. “Sure,” she muttered, then finished off her drink and tossed the cup in the paper-recycling bin.

  Stacy patted Kelly’s shoulder. “Let’s get you under the hairdryer, hon.”

  After Stacy settled Kelly under the heat, Cara grabbed her sister’s arm and pulled her to the front of the salon. “What was that all about?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  “What do you mean?” Stacy asked, batting her eyes.

  She pointed. “You know what I mean. Why would you tell Kelly to bid on Travis?”

  “You trained him and his dog. You want him to do well, don’t you?”

  “Y-Yes,” she said, sputtering. “But…”

  “But what?” Stacy parked her hands on her hips, arching an eyebrow in some so
rt of dare.

  Cara heaved a deep sigh. “But I don’t want her bidding on him,” she managed to admit.

  “Correction. You don’t want anyone bidding on him,” Stacy said, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she punched Cara’s arm. “I knew it. And that’s exactly why I said that to Kelly. Because you’re falling for him.”

  Cara held her chin up high and crossed her arms as she backpedaled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Stacy laughed loudly. Pointedly. “Oh, that’s a good one. That’s a very good one. Because it was obvious thirty minutes ago, with the way you two were touching each other in the town square, that this little one-and-done plan has become something more. So maybe it’s time you did something about it, otherwise somebody else might get him this weekend.”

  Cara scoffed. “It’s just an auction to raise money. No one expects the dates that women bid on will turn into real relationships.”

  At least she hoped not.

  Stacy reached out her hand and rested it on Cara’s arm. “You never know how a love might start. For someone, it might start at a fireman’s auction. It might begin as fun and games and a bid. But what if someone bids on him and he falls for her because he thinks all you want is sex? There’s something between the two of you, and if you don’t want other women bidding on him, maybe you should ask yourself if you’d truly be happy just letting this be a fling.”

  Cara swallowed. Her mouth was dry. Her brain was fuzzy. She hated that Stacy was seeing right through her defenses. But she was also glad that she could finally stop keeping these feelings tied up in her chest. She had to free them. “I know,” she admitted softly, looking down at her sandaled feet. “But I know it’s going to end, so I’m just trying to enjoy it while I can.”

  Stacy lifted Cara’s chin gently. “Maybe it doesn’t have to end. Maybe it can be the beginning. Try letting him know how you feel.”

  “I don’t even know how I feel,” she said quietly, her voice threatening to break. Her heart was playing a vicious tug of war with her head, yanking hard on all of her future plans, trying to knock them on their ass with this one crazy desire—her deep longing for Travis. She simply didn’t want her time with him to end. She wanted to keep going, with no end in sight. But the trouble was what it always had been—he didn’t want the things that were so important to her, the things that spelled happiness. She’d seen the roadmap. She’d studied it as a bystander as Stacy and Sofie had traveled down the path. The husband, the kids, the white picket fence—she longed for the life her two sisters had. She yearned not to be the odd woman out. She was already something of a curiosity in her family, given her unconventional arrival in the clan. She didn’t want to remain that way, and she didn’t know how to settle for less than all this happiness she saw around her—in her parents, in her sisters, in her friends.