by Marie Harte
“God, you’re gorgeous.” She stroked him from his chest to his belly button, never having been so close to perfection before. Then, because she figured the poor man had suffered enough, and her underwear would never be salvaged if she kept stringing this out, she unsnapped his jeans.
He started, his eyes remaining closed.
“You still okay?”
He swallowed. “Yeah.”
Barely a whisper, but he’d given consent. She smiled, pleased with herself. Ivy continued to unbutton his jeans, not an easy task considering the size of his erection. “I just want to relieve what has to be uncomfortable for you. Sorry.”
He gave a harsh laugh and groaned again. “Don’t ever be sorry for this. Oh, that’s it.”
She parted his fly and stared down at his underwear clinging to the thick, broad head and long shaft of his cock. A large wet spot stuck to his cockhead, and she had an urge to lean down and kiss him. But that might be a little too much for Ivy just yet.
So she eased her hand over him, underwear and all, and got his throaty plea for her to continue.
She stroked him a few more times, but she needed to feel him in her hand. To palpate that glorious muscle, her inner kinky massage therapist said. Ivy grinned, wondering if Sam would ever play the part of a client in bed; she was curious that, for all her talk of professionalism, she wanted to try that as soon as possible in private.
She eased her hand under his underwear and slid it over his wet shaft.
“Shit. Easy. I’m so close.” He wouldn’t look at her, keeping his eyes clenched tight, his hands gripping the couch like a lifeline.
“So pretty,” she whispered and gripped him, amazed at his size. Then she pumped him, slowly, up and down, watching him take his pleasure. It was the most amazing thing.
“Fuck. I’m gonna come. So hard, all over your hand,” he moaned.
“Do it. Let me see you, Sam. Come for me.” She put her other hand between his legs to graze his balls and pumped him again, faster this time.
He jerked in her hold, his body so tense he felt as if he’d break. She teetered on that precarious ledge with him, so wet and needy, so consumed with his climax. “All for me,” she whispered and squeezed.
Sam shouted and bucked up off the couch, his orgasm wild. He made a mess of his underwear, as well as her hand, his release not quick or short, but beautifully long and drawn out.
When he finally ceased, she started to release her hold on him, already missing the heartbeat pulsing beneath her fingers. But he trapped her hand around him and drew her closer.
“Kiss me,” he rasped, “right now.”
She leaned closer and moaned as he thanked her with a kiss. His mouth commanded, showing her how much he’d held back while he’d let her play. When she started to feel dizzy, he let her go and stared up at her.
“Best fucking orgasm I’ve ever had in my entire life.” He flexed in her hand. “You… I just… Damn, Ivy. Just damn.”
This time he let her release him, and she staggered to her feet, needing to clean herself up. She took her time walking down the hall to the bathroom, not wanting him to see her trembling, nervous and excited and scared at how much he’d impacted her.
She washed her hands and did her best to clean herself and her panties. The excitement remained, but now a sense of self-consciousness was there as well. He’d said she could touch him, but she’d done a lot more than that. Still, she refused to be ashamed of what she’d done. She’d owed him that bliss, and she now had a memory that would never fade. Sam coming—a true thing of beauty.
She returned to find him pacing in front of the couch, his clothing set to rights, his eyes a little wild.
“Ivy?”
She gave him a smile, forcing herself to pretend this was totally normal, that jacking him off hadn’t changed something inside her forever. Like she did this all the time. She stopped herself from giving in to uncontrollable, nervous laughter.
“You okay?” she asked him.
He strode to her, lifted her chin, and kissed her. So light it almost wasn’t there. “Thank you.” He gifted her with a true smile, delight in his eyes.
She relaxed completely. “You’re welcome.”
He continued to watch her, looking over her hair, her eyes, her face and mouth. “Thank you.” He kissed her again. “Thank you.” And again. Then he hugged her so tight she squeaked. “Thank you so fucking much.”
She started laughing once he’d stopped squeezing so tight. “I hope that felt as good for you as it did for me.”
“No way possible. I saw heaven, baby. And it was all you.”
She blushed and tried to make light of it. “Aw, I bet you say that to all the girls.”
His humor faded, and he stroked her cheek. “No, Ivy. I don’t. You are so damn beautiful. So giving.” He sighed. “Sorry, gotta do it again.” He kissed her, this time deeper than before. He pulled back with a groan. “We’re sharing Cookie.”
It took a moment to decipher that. “Ah, yes.”
“So we’d better get used to spending a lot of time together. Like tomorrow night.”
She blinked. “Are you asking me out on a date, Sam Hamilton?”
“I figure I have to.”
“Oh?”
“Because if I don’t, I’ll just sit at home jacking off, remembering how you touched me. Held me. Fuck me sideways, Ivy. I’m still a little light-headed. You are so good with those hands.” He leaned close and rested his forehead against hers. “Can I tell you something?”
She closed her eyes, wanting to say yes to anything he asked.
“I want to fuck you so bad it’s killing me.” He pulled back and stared down at her, all intensity and sexual fury. “I want to bury myself inside you. Take you until you scream and beg for more. I want to eat you out. Want that pussy gloving me while I ride you into multiple orgasms. And I want it so bad, it’s all I can do to let you go home tonight. ’Cause I’m so freaked out I’m gonna scare you, and that can’t happen. Ever.”
She blinked at him, seeing the worry and the need and the confusion she felt too. “Sam, I’m not scared of you.”
“Maybe you should be, Ivy. I’m scared of me. Scared that what I’m feeling isn’t normal. I mean, I want you so bad I’m shaking.” He lifted a hand, and to her astonishment, it wasn’t steady.
Then seeing the worry on his face, she lifted her hand. “Yeah, well so am I.” She showed him her trembling palm. “You were so open when you came. So gorgeous. Heck, all of you is a work of art.” She let out a breath. “I just hope I can keep up. I feel like I’m out of your league.”
He barked a laugh. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? I’m not good enough to lick your boots. The fact you came home with me tonight was more than I deserved.”
They watched each other, each measuring expressions and words not said. Ivy couldn’t contain her gladness with the situation. He didn’t think he was good enough for her when she thought the exact same thing about him. They really were a lot alike.
“Um, not to nitpick,” she said, trying not to sound as happy as she felt, “but that boot-licking comment. That’s not a turn-on for you, is it? Because that might be a deal breaker.”
His intense stare eased into an out-and-out laugh. He laughed so hard he cried, and she laughed right along with him. “Jesus, Ivy. No, I’m not into licking your boots. No foot fetishes here.” He chuckled some more. “But I’m curious as to what else you like and don’t like. I think we have a lot in common, besides you digging that shitty Buckaroo Banzai movie.”
He’d remembered.
She grinned. “That’s right. We both like loincloths.”
“For you, I’d wear one. Anytime. But only if you let me return tonight’s favor.”
“Actually, that was me returning it to you. From before.” She’d be only too happy to have hi
m do her again. Preferably sooner than later, but she didn’t want to come off as easy. Well, more than she already had. “Remember, Sam, last time you left my place before you were satisfied.”
“Baby, if I was any more satisfied right now I’d be dead.” He pulled her in close for another hug and kiss before leaning his head back to see her. “I like you a lot. Now that we’re sharing the dog, I think we should keep seeing each other. For Cookie’s sake,” he teased, yet his gaze seemed deeper than his words.
“For Cookie’s sake,” she pledged and made a cross over her heart, then his. “So do you want to go out tomorrow night?”
“Hell yeah. How about we hang at your place, though? I’ve been told my room’s a little messy.”
“A little,” she grumbled, then laughed when he squeezed her tighter as a warning. She cupped his cheeks again, and he closed his eyes in pleasure. Sam liked a caring touch. She planned on putting that info to good use, hopefully in the near future. “I take it you want me to cook for you?”
“Unless you want hot dogs or ramen. I’m good with those.”
She grimaced. “Ah, no. How do steaks and baked potatoes sound?”
“Perfect.” He beamed. “I’ll bring the food. You cook it.”
“That’s okay. I can—”
“You cook; I pay. That’s the deal.” He tried to stare her down, using his intimidating presence.
To her surprise, Ivy didn’t feel anything but affection for the big bruiser. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. But I’m getting the ingredients for the salad and the dessert.”
He nodded. “Cool. But I’m not a fan of cucumbers.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I mean, if you wanted to use them for something else, sure. But not to eat.” The sparkle in his eyes should have warned her.
“Use for something else? What, like an eye mask?”
He bit his lip. “Ah, yeah. For that.”
So he hadn’t meant an eye mask. What else would she use a cucumber for? The wicked look on his face made her realize her stupidity seconds later. “Oh, you.” She deliberately looked at the bulge in his jeans. “So you’d rather I used a cucumber?” Where naughty Ivy had been hiding, Ivy had no idea. But Sam seemed to love that side of her.
He gave her a smile. “You’re not so sweet. Hot damn. I hit the mother lode.” He gave her a kiss that heated her up a little too much. Then he pulled back and adjusted himself right in front of her. “Fuck. Sorry. You get to me, Ivy. It’s like I can’t help myself.”
“Good. I feel the same way.”
He nodded, grabbed her by the arm, then dragged her to the door. “Exactly. Now unless you want to be fucked up against the back of the door, condom or no condom, I think you’d better get your fine ass in the car.”
She didn’t argue, though she wanted to. Because the thought of having sex with Sam was a little too tempting just now.
They drove back to her home in silence. After Sam walked her inside, checked on Cookie, then kissed her senseless once more, he left without a word.
Moments later, he sent her a text.
Ivy smiled and got ready for bed. Six o’clock tomorrow night, she had a date with the most intriguing man she’d ever met. She dreamed about him and his smile. And woke up to Cookie whining at four in the morning, because she’d forgotten to walk him last night.
Nothing like waking to a dog mess to clear sensual cobwebs from the brain.
Chapter 10
Sam couldn’t get his head out of the clouds Saturday morning. Even Eileen dragging his ass with her on a shopping trip couldn’t stem his utter pleasure with the world.
“Sam, what’s gotten into you?” Eileen asked as she stared at him.
Foley’s mother was hot. Like, MILF hot, not that Sam had ever seen her as anything but a mom figure. She had dark hair and gray eyes, like Foley. But her petite build and curvy figure, kept in shape by daily exercise and good nutrition, had her looking years younger than fifty-three.
Unlike Louise Hamilton, Eileen loved her own son. She always had time for him, supported him, and bragged about him to everyone who would listen. The same as she’d done for Sam for the past twenty years. She cared, and he’d move heaven and earth to see her happy and safe.
“I’m good,” he said, trying to clear Ivy out of his mind.
“You’re not on drugs, are you?” She yanked him down by the ear and stared into his eyes.
“Ow, damn it.” But he kept immobile so she could look her fill. “Happy now?”
“You’re not focused. You barely ate two pancakes this morning.” With Foley out with Cyn, Sam had been left to Eileen’s maternal devices. Woman was always trying to feed him. Normally he loved it because, as he’d told Ivy, he couldn’t cook worth a damn. But today he had little appetite, filled with memories of a sexy blond.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“Ha. Not hungry.” Eileen let him go and wiped her hands together. “It’s a girl, isn’t it?”
He had no intention of sharing with Eileen, not when he was still trying to wrap his mind around his feelings. Being with Ivy had made him feel…something. Not just happy or sexually replete, though God knew she’d cleaned his clock. She made him feel like he could be more than just Sam Hamilton. Like he mattered.
She made him feel clean.
“Yep, it’s a girl,” Eileen said when he didn’t answer. She glanced around her at the shoppers milling downtown. Then she spied the store he’d been dreading. “There we are.” Sephora, his personal hell. Right across from Westlake Center, the bowels of the pit.
He groaned. “Shouldn’t you be with Cyn or Jan for this trip?” Jan, her fiancé’s pregnant daughter.
“Jan just had the baby, so no.”
“No kidding?” He liked Jan and her husband, Noel. Hell, he liked Jacob too, though Foley was keeping an eye on the guy soon to be his stepdaddy. The thought still made Sam want to laugh.
“Yes. The baby’s so cute, Sam. You should see her.”
“Oh man, a girl. That’s cool. Jan’s okay?”
“Jan is just fine. Noel’s a proud dad, and Jacob keeps taking pictures and showing them off.” She smiled. “He’s so proud of his family.” She linked her arm through Sam’s and tugged him with her toward the makeup store. “So when do you think Foley is going to marry Cyn and give me grandchildren to spoil?”
“Normally I’d tell you I can’t snitch on my bro, but if it’ll get you off my back, I’m game.”
“I promise.” Eileen’s eyes glowed. “Well? What’s the 411?”
“Have I told you I love when you sound all hip, like the kids these days?”
She smacked him, barely a tap. “Tell me, damn it.”
He sighed. They’d entered the store. It was huge, and as they moved around, he saw maybe three guys. Two of them wore makeup themselves and seemed to be having the times of their lives. The other guy looked miserable as his girlfriend or wife dragged him around.
They made eye contact and gave each other commiserating nods of sympathy.
“Foley plans to ask Cyn to marry him pretty soon.”
“I knew it.” Eileen hunkered in front of a display, checking out various tubes of mascara. They all looked the same to him, but the two chicks who rushed over to help her didn’t think so. He tried to pretend they weren’t giving him the eye. In fact, a lot of women in the place had looked him over and apparently liked what they saw.
He’d love to tell them he was taken. What would Ivy think of him getting eye fucked in the store? Would she care? He had a feeling she might, and that amused the hell out of him. When was the last time a woman had cared about another woman wanting him? Try never.
All those lingering kisses Ivy had given him had been real. Not just sexual, but emotionally charged. He didn’t feel like a pussy for thinking it either. Because to Ivy, touch meant something special. Sh
e did it for work to help people. But those kisses she’d planted on his mouth, his chest, his nipples—they’d meant something else. Something intimate. Just for him.
“Oh my God, you’re smiling. Are you okay?”
He coughed to cover a laugh. “Yeah, fine,” he growled. “Can we go? I’m getting hives.”
The saleswomen next to them tittered, and Eileen rolled her eyes. She ignored him in favor of asking the salespeople a few more questions about brands and prices.
On the other side of him, a dark-haired honey with large breasts leaned close. “Hey, handsome. You’re blocking the Mac.”
A glance showed a sign above a display saying Mac. Weird but okay.
“Sorry.”
“No problem.” She smiled, showing a cute gap between her teeth. “You busy tonight?” She nodded to Eileen. “That’s not your date, is it?”
“Nah, my mom.”
She softened. “Oh, that’s so sweet. I’m gonna be downtown if you’re interested in some company.” Before he could say no, she wrote a number on the back of his hand with the sample stick she’d taken from the Mac display. “Call me. If tonight won’t work, another time, maybe.”
He watched her sashay to the counter to pay.
“Sam, really? What would your girlfriend think?” Eileen huffed.
“Hey, I didn’t ask for her number. I’m trying to be fuckin’ polite,” he said through gritted teeth and accepted the wipe the girl next to Eileen handed him.
The saleswoman—her name tag read Ashlee—grinned. “Sorry about that. We don’t get too many handsome men in the store. I think we scare them away.”
Her friend laughed.
“Yeah, I get that.”
Ashlee took the wipe from him. “I’ll throw that away for you. If you come back to get your mom anything in the future, ask for me.” She wrote something down on a business card and handed it to him.
“They don’t get paid on commission, but they do get compensated,” Eileen explained.