by Rian Kelley
“That the yogurt sounds tempting.”
There was a wicked gleam in her smile. “I’ll go get it.”
But his hand tightened on her hip, keeping her beside him. “I’ll take you out,” he said.
“We’re going out later,” she reminded him. “I bought a new dress.”
“The one that’s going to bring me to my knees.”
“Plan on it.” She opened her legs and lifted one, sliding it over his hip. “Let’s get that yogurt, Jake,” she whispered against his lips. “There’s enough for two.”
And damn if that didn’t shatter his resolve. His cock stirred. The scent of her sex filled his nostrils. He closed his eyes to shut out the visual in front of him, but was assailed by images of her covered in the creamy food and Jake licking her down to her skin. He felt the heat build-up at his pulse points.
“You’re hell on my intentions.”
Her smile only deepened. “A girl has got to eat,” she said.
Jake rolled out of bed. There were several containers of yogurt in her fridge. He chose
two, lemon and strawberry. He stopped in the bathroom and grabbed the condoms from the medicine chest. When he returned to her she was on her back, the covers pushed to the end of the bed, and her head propped up on a pillow.
“This will be a new experience for me, Jake,” she confided. “And, so you know beforehand, one I can check off my bucket list.”
He dropped the yogurt on the mattress and knelt beside her. “You never told me the first one.”
She picked up a container of yogurt and peeled off the top. “Mmmm, lemon. Lay down, Jake.”
He shook his head. “You first.”
“No way,” she said. “When you touch me I get distracted.” She swirled a finger through the yogurt. “And you become very single-minded.” She rose on her knees so that they were almost touching. “And I plan to fully enjoy you right now, Jake.”
Before he could protest further, she wiped her finger across his lips and then followed it with her tongue. She parted his lips and dipped inside and the lemon flavor combined with her own distinctive taste burst inside his mouth. Jake groaned and felt his body clench. She dueled with his mouth while her fingers spread the creamy substance under his ear, down his throat, and swirled it around a nipple.
He was panting before she got to that sensitive skin behind his ear. She lapped, teethed and sucked his sweet spot into her mouth. An electric current shot to his dick. He jutted his hips and growled deep in his chest.
Ivy paused and gazed at his burgeoning erection. Moisture was beaded at the tip.
“Are you coming, Jake?”
“No.” The word was clipped and an emotional revelation. He was close. Already.
“Good, because I have plans for that.”
She went for the container of yogurt again; this time she scooped out enough to cover her palm. Jake shuddered and closed his eyes. He knew what was coming, but she made him wait for it, licking her way down his neck, pulling with her teeth at the thin matting of hair on his chest, and finally circling his nipple where she lapped up more of the yogurt. When she drew it into her mouth her hand circled his cock.
Hot and cold. He was so damn hot and the yogurt was like a cool compress. He pumped himself in her hand, watched her watching him. The arousal on her face, in the heated flush of her skin and the fevered look in her eyes, was almost too much. But then she smiled, a look of perfect satisfaction, and her hand tightened around him. Seed burst from his cock.
“Too much.” He grabbed his balls to stop himself.
“Does that help, Jake?”
He didn’t answer. He wasn’t capable of it.
He felt her lean into him, her tongue flick against his nipple. Her hand curled around his and squeezed. “Hold tight, now,” she suggested and he felt her slide down his chest, over his belly, lower, her lips dragging over his skin. She stroked his shaft with her tongue and murmured her appreciation. Jake opened his eyes and watched her. She was beautiful. So incredibly beautiful. And he was going to come in her mouth. When she opened over his knob he released his balls and let his semen flow.
The orgasm was intense. It shuddered through every muscle. Blinded him with bright flashes of light. Deafened him with the roaring of his blood. His hands tightened in her hair. She sucked and he pumped and somewhere between them he lost touch with reality. He never stopped thinking about being gentle but it became far less important to him.
His vision returned, hazy at first. He was clutching Ivy, her dark head resting on his belly, above his spent penis. He wavered on his knees and sank back into the mattress, bringing her with him.
His hearing returned next. The rapid tattoo of his pulse. Ivy’s soft gasps hitting the back of her throat. Wet gasps. Sniffing. Fear pinged in his blood. He had disconnected—had lost control—if only for a moment. He had lacked presence as every one of his senses had turned inward. He had become his need. Had he hurt her? She lifted a shaking hand and pushed her hair away from her face, which he couldn’t see.
“Ivy?” His voice was raspy, his breathing uneven. “Honey, come here.”
He lifted her, turned her face toward him with a hand on her chin.
Her lips were trembling but her eyes were shining with something good—a wicked sense of satisfaction.
“That was amazing,” she said, breathless.
He closed his eyes, pushed his head back on the pillow, and gave thanks.
Chapter Sixteen
Ivy sat beside Jake in the booth. They had already ordered and Jake’s hand rested warmly on her thigh. It was a simple act of possession, actually, but Ivy didn’t mind. She was his. She wanted it no other way. And while the thought was scary, it wasn’t because she was afraid she would lose too much of herself to Jake—she had discovered the opposite to be true. Jake had given her the freedom to explore who she was at a level deeper than she had previously experienced. She had pushed herself beyond her limits and received an incredible gift in return.
The memory of Jake’s surrender was strong and heady. He had watched her with a fierceness that was almost frightening. And he had released himself in a torrent that had made her feel bad-ass powerful. It was intoxicating. She wanted more of it.
But she wondered about Jake. After his explosive climax, where she was sure he had let go, if not completely, enough to leave him shaken, he had insisted on getting out of bed. They had showered together, but it had been a tender session while he bathed her. He did not allow her to return the favor, saying only, when she persisted, “Please, Ivy. I need some time, okay?”
She read that as space, but when she asked if he wanted to reschedule their date that
night, he had refused.
Since then, he had spoken little, touched her gently, if possessively, and remained mentally distant. He was regrouping.
And Ivy tried not to trespass. He was present emotionally, connected through touch. And he made the effort to keep that flowing between them. So Ivy let the silences stretch. She explored her own thoughts and occasionally glanced at Jake to see how he was progressing. His profile was taut and a frown drew his brows together. She would love to put her fingers there, to soothe him.
He caught her gaze and smiled. It was a small gesture, but it softened his features and Ivy needed it.
“You want a fresh cup?”
He nodded toward the table. She hadn’t touched her coffee and it had grown cold. Jake had downed two cups already.
“Yes.” Her throat was husky from lack of use.
She slid her hand beneath his on her leg, weaving their fingers together. He gave hers a squeeze and signaled for the waitress.
The waitress came and placed their meals before them. She topped off Jake’s cup and brought a fresh one for Ivy. They had ordered breakfast for lunch at a little diner close enough to the ocean that the air outside was salty. From the window, Ivy gazed at the wide expanse of sky, at the palm trees that spiraled upward, each one standing alone and its
fronds lifting in the breeze.
Jake removed his hand from her thigh and picked up his utensils. And she missed his touch, felt bereft without it. Though there were mere inches between them, though she felt his body heat and his elbow brushed against hers when he moved, he was really miles away.
“Eat Ivy, please.” His voice was somber. Not lacking his usual confidence, but definitely subdued. And she was beginning to regret her earlier triumph. It had been a powerful moment for her. And gratifying. She had wanted to please him and she had, but at what cost? Was it too much? Would a relationship with her require more than he wanted to give?
She met his gaze and opened her mouth to speak, but he laid a finger over her lips.
“We need to talk,” he agreed. “Just not yet, okay?”
She wanted to grant his request, but the silences were killing her. “Could we talk about something else then?” And when doubt clouded his expression she added, “Anything else?”
He thought about it, his blue eyes roaming her face.
“You want to pet tiger sharks tomorrow?” he asked.
He was thinking beyond today. And he was reaching out to her. He understood she needed that and it made the heaviness in her heart increase. Why couldn’t she do the same for him? He’d set boundaries and she’d pushed him beyond them. Jake’s discipline ran deep. He relied on it. Why did she equate it with emotional distance? Maybe she was still more insecure than she wanted to believe. And that depressed her.
“Hey,” he called to her softly and traced a finger down her cheek to regain her attention. “They don’t bite.”
His smile held none of the wicked intent she’d gotten used to seeing, but it was confident and reassuring and Ivy appreciate that. She felt her shoulders relax. The churning in her stomach eased.
“You want to take that kayak tour? Sure.” She didn’t have to be to work until seven. They could spend the whole day playing and she wouldn’t once challenge his resolve.
“I’ll wear a granny swimsuit,” she promised. She had no idea where she’d find one, but she was thinking something along the lines of a one piece with a full skirt that covered her legs and a fitted top that revealed no cleavage and offered no possibility of an accidental flashing.
Jake laughed. It was surprising, but reached his eyes and shattered the heaviness that had surrounded them. “You will not. I want to see you in that black bikini.”
Well, she definitely wasn’t going to wear it. It would be like taunting Jake. And it would be hard on her as well. She felt incredibly sexy when she wore it and she would spend the whole day wanting Jake’s hands on her. And his mouth. His teeth. His tongue. Damn, she still quaked inside when she thought about their earlier coupling.
“No,” she said. “It’s the one piece.” Maybe the tankini.
“Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter what you wear. Your sexiness will shine through.” He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. And this time, when he brought their hands down, he placed hers on his thigh and kept it there with the warmth of his own. “I’ll want you anytime, anywhere, any way I can have you.”
The timber of his voice changed, grew deeper.
“I don’t want to push you, Jake.”
He shook his head. “What happened this morning, that’s on me, Ivy.” He smiled, but it wasn’t without a hint of regret. “You rock my world.”
“That’s supposed to be a good thing,” she pointed out.
“Until it’s not.”
“Because you’re afraid of the consequences,” she puzzled out. He associated the thrill-seeking rush he’d chased as a teen with the intensity they shared between the sheets. She said as much.
“It’s the same kind of crazy,” he agreed.
“And living without discipline, people get hurt.”
So it wasn’t just the intimacy—the staring into each other’s soul that Ivy had experienced with Jake that morning.
“Did I hurt you, Ivy?”
“You know you didn’t.”
“I know it now.” But not in the moment. She read his thoughts clearly in his tone. “A man can come, and it can be pleasurable, without losing his hold on the present.”
“That’s sad.” And the way he said pleasurable made Ivy think of tepid water and soft ice cream. She wanted no part of either.
“It’s control.”
“Don’t you think, if it ever came to that and you lost control, that I would say something?
That you would stop as soon as you realized you were too rough?”
“I’ve never had a blinding orgasm. Until today. I didn’t see you. I didn’t hear you. I was consumed with feeling. Driven by the need to climax. I saw to my needs and completely forgot about yours.”
“You’d already taken care of me,” she insisted. “And maybe that’s why you let yourself accept what I was offering.”
“I didn’t let myself,” he corrected. “That’s just it, Ivy. Passion took over.”
“And you discovered that you’re not a wild beast under its spell,” she pointed out.
His face got a distant, impassive look on it. “You naturally want to assume the best about people.”
“Not really,” she countered. “Don’t you think I probably lost my faith in men, after what I went through with my ex? It’s hard for me to trust. But I do trust you, Jake. I trust you because I know you would never harm me. I know it.” She wanted him to see himself as she did. So she changed tactics. “What do you know about me, Jake?”
His gaze on her face softened. “You’re strong, sometimes to the point of stubbornness.” His smile took the sting out of his words. “You’re compassionate and generous and you think nothing of putting the needs of others above your own. You’re bold and feisty. Demanding and impatient. You’re a fighter, when you believe in the cause. You’re a woman of action, preferring to work on a solution rather than dwell on circumstances. You’re sexy, hot, and drive me crazy.”
Ivy picked among the attributes he’d come up with for the ones that would serve her best. “So I’m strong enough to get your attention if I need it,” she said. “I’m bold enough to want all of you when we come together. I’m demanding, so that I’ll accept nothing less. And I’m a fighter, so if need be, I’ll kick your ass.”
Jake nearly choked on his sip of coffee. His laughter was short but deep and Ivy answered it was a saucy smile.
“That’s my feisty,” she said.
“Yes,” he agreed, as he leaned into her space and placed a warm kiss against her lips. When he drew back she said, “You need to trust yourself, Jake. But you need to trust me, too. I’m not a helpless female.”
“I know that.” She could tell he was considering her words, because his face lightened and he said, “That was the first thing I knew about you, after the sexy.”
He’d found her on the side of the road, gearing up for a run back into civilization. He’d found her half-dressed. And she had behaved as if she could take him or leave him. Maybe she should add foolish to her list of traits—Jake was definitely a taker.
He slid her plate closer to her and urged, “Eat. We have a long night ahead of us.” But his tone had changed. He was no longer morose, but contemplative. “I’m going to do my best to dance with you, Ivy, without turning it into foreplay.”
And Jake succeeded. Almost. They boarded the boat at six o’clock and enjoyed an open bar and appetizers while they got underway. Ivy wore a red halter sundress that was skimpy enough she wasn’t able to wear a bra, but had enough material it preserved her modesty.
“Lovely,” Jake had told her. He’d stepped close to her and ran a finger down her shoulder and along the edge of the halter, dipping inside the material to stroke the side of her breast. “And tempting.” She had left her dark hair long and he had tunneled his hand through it, holding her head as his lips opened over hers in a kiss that was claiming and hot and Ivy felt his erection stir against her belly.
“You’re going to have to harness that,” s
he’d told him. They would be on the boat five hours and while it was a luxury dining cruise, the vessel offered no sleeping accommodations. She had, however, prepared for that in the event there was an emergency. And the thought made her smile. She had no intention of telling Jake what she was wearing under her dress. She’d let him discover that on his own.
“No problem,” he’d said and there was a gravity to his voice that told Ivy he had built up his self control, which only made her think about ways she could pull it apart.
She’d rolled to her toes and whispered against his lips, “Oh, it might be a problem, soldier. You have no idea what I have planned.”
But she remained on her best behavior. Jake enjoyed a beer while Ivy sipped at a glass of wine. They stood on deck, looking out over the Bay, and held hands. They talked more about their childhoods, each of them reaching deep for happy memories that included tales of daring do as well as sibling rivalry and camaraderie. They danced to a live string band, their legs brushing against each other’s, Ivy’s breasts grazing his powerful chest. But she did nothing to increase their physical connection. Occasionally, Jake’s hand swept from her shoulder to the dip in her waist and her body responded with a shudder. When he pulled her close at the end of a song and held her hips against the cradle of his thighs, she gazed into his eyes and saw a sleepy arousal building in him. She let her leg slip between his, her thigh teasing his growing shaft. His hand tightened to slow her movement and she asked him,
“You feel any pantie lines, Jake?”
His palm flattened against her hip, his fingers curving over her cheek, and his eyes flared.
“You’re not wearing underwear?”
“I’m wearing something,” she promised. Something that was made of the finest silk, but very little of it.
He growled low in his throat and his hands tightened reflexively, pulling her closer so that only breath existed between them.
The bathrooms were about the same size as what you’d find on an airplane. They stepped into one, Jake bumping her from behind as he closed and locked the door. His cock nestled into the cheeks of her ass and she wiggled against him. He pulled her tightly to him and pumped his hips so that she felt him grow even larger. His hands skimmed from her hips, over her belly, and into the valley of sweet skin exposed by the deep V of her halter.