Love on the Sound

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Love on the Sound Page 26

by Matthews, Jamie


  Once again, Amy felt herself close to tears. She blinked them away with ruthless determination. She was not going to get all misty eyed over this man, no matter how damn sensitive and understanding he appeared. This was sex. Nothing more.

  To prove it, she fisted her hands in his shirt, hauled him close and kissed him. She yanked at his shirt, tore it over his head, then went to work on his jeans. He backed her into the bathroom, stepping out of his jeans along the way. Amy nipped at the curve of his neck down to his shoulder as he helped her out of her clothes.

  Naked, she slipped out of his embrace and sashayed over to the clawfoot tub, pulled aside the curtain that enclosed it, and bent over to turn on the water, nice and slow. She sent him a look over her shoulder and found him watching her, his eyes drinking in her every move.

  “Going to join me?” Amy asked, stepping into the tub.

  “If you insist.” Ben joined her and winced when the spray hit him. “God, that’s hot.”

  “I know,” she purred, reaching down and stroking him.

  “Ha,” he managed, his laugh strained. “This will be a little more challenging than I thought.”

  Amy agreed, since over six feet of naked, wet male took up a lot of room in the antique tub—not that she was complaining. “We’ll have to be creative.”

  She grabbed the soap and lathered her hands up, then stroked them slowly over his muscled arms, down across his chest, slid them around to caress his fantastic ass. He grinned and grabbed the soap. Steam rose up around them, and water beat down as they explored each other. Ben turned Amy around so her back pressed against his chest, and she tipped her head back as the spray beat down on her sensitized skin. He unhooked the shower nozzle, and she thanked God she’d gotten a good showerhead when he turned up the water pressure, and it beat down on her breasts, her nipples. His other hand slid down her body, and then inside her, slick and fast. She turned her head to find his mouth. They devoured each other, tongues twining, and she moaned into his mouth when he removed his hand and aimed the rhythmic water spray to beat between her legs. He tore his mouth from hers and arched her up, his fingers joining the beat of the water until she writhed in ecstasy.

  “Oh God,” she moaned and then called out his name as she came, lost in the feel of his fingers and the pulse of the water.

  Amy slumped against him, catching her breath, while he hooked the showerhead up so water once again rained down on them. Turning, she smiled at him and ran her hands down to cup him.

  “My turn,” she told him.

  She bit his nipple, and he shuddered, hardening even more in her hands. Amy slid her lips down his body and then kneeled on the floor of the tub, holding his legs for balance, while the water beat down on her head. She took him in her mouth, and he groaned, hands gripping her hair. She slid him in and out, drawing him deeper and deeper and was rewarded when he let out a sexy moan every time. Her own nipples began to harden once more and she found herself so turned on by the rush of water, the heat, and the way the sheer size of him surrounded her in the tub, his scent everywhere mingled with the slight citrus smell of the soap, that she thought she might come. Amy went faster and faster, cupping his balls in her hand until he let out a shout and came. She groaned and ran her hands over her breasts.

  “God, Amy,” he breathed when he finished, and she slowly slid her mouth off his penis, licking the head one last time. He yanked her up, then knelt on his knees and scraped his teeth across her clit. Amy threw her head back, gasping while the water beat down on her breasts, and he bit her gently. His tongue had barely slid inside her before the second orgasm slammed through her in a huge wave, and her knees buckled.

  Ben pulled her down so they were both on their knees, and he replaced his tongue with two fingers while the convulsions were going, switching his mouth to her breasts, and Amy thought the orgasm might never end.

  At last, they collapsed against each other. Clouds of steam rose around them as the shower continued, but neither had the energy to move. After a while, Ben lifted his head and kissed her, and Amy wrapped her arms around him, loving the feel of his chest against hers, the scrape of his unshaven face against her cheek. He held her tight, pressing her close, and she opened her mouth further, inviting him in. His tongue against hers, his skin slick with water, his arms so strong banded around her—Amy felt as if she could stay there forever in this one kiss.

  She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, locked together, drinking each other in, before finally breaking apart, each of them breathing hard. Ben laid his forehead against hers.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he breathed. “I mean, my God, I still want you.”

  Amy found herself pressing up against him, wet all over again at the hunger in his voice. She buried her face in his neck for a moment, then pulled away.

  “This is insane.” She struggled to her feet, her legs still weak. Ben rose as well and turned the water off.

  Amy grabbed a towel for herself and one for Ben. After he dried off, he gathered up his clothes and kissed her again.

  “I’ll get breakfast going. Meet me there.”

  “You?” Amy wrapped a towel around her hair.

  “I can crack eggs and slice fruit,” he said.

  Amy smiled and gathered up her clothes after the door closed behind him. She caught herself humming as she creamed on moisturizer, combed out her hair. She’d forgotten how it felt, to want a man like this and to be desired in return. Whatever happened, Amy told herself as she walked into the kitchen to find Ben slicing up oranges, she wouldn’t let this part of her life go dormant again.

  After breakfast, he helped her with the dishes, and then he lifted her up on the kitchen counter where they proceeded to have sex...again. As she sat, half naked and winded in her kitchen, Amy leaned her head against the cabinets and laughed.

  “I think I’m a sex addict.”

  “Praise Jesus. I’ve found the perfect woman.”

  “Seriously.” Amy hopped off the counter and pulled her underwear and pants back on. “I can’t just lie around and have sex with you all day.”

  “Why not?” Ben grabbed his underwear but didn’t bother putting them on, just stood there with a knowing smile.

  “Um.” Amy eyed him up and down. “Let me think a minute.”

  “It pains me to admit this, but I may need a break before I can keep up with you. So to speak.”

  “So, you’re all talk and no action?” Amy laughed and dodged him when he made a grab for her. “All right, I’ve got to go into town and pick up an order at Hannah’s. Thanks for all the orgasms.”

  She stood up on tiptoe to kiss him.

  “Happy to be of service,” he said. “I’m going to get some writing done.”

  Amy combed out her hair and did her makeup—again. She thought she’d erased the “I just had sex” look, but as soon as she walked through the door of Hannah’s, both Hannah and Nell exchanged glances and grinned.

  “Fork it over.” Nell held out her hand.

  Hannah shook her head and gave Nell a twenty. “Amy, Amy, I thought you’d wait at least a few days until after the Oakes left.”

  Amy was thankful the bakery was empty. She put her hands on her hips. “Did you two bet on when I’d have sex with Ben?”

  “Yes.” Without being asked, Hannah served up a cinnamon roll to Nell.

  “Thanks,” Nell said. “I need sugar for the sexy debriefing.”

  “Are you mad?” Hannah asked as Amy took a seat next to Nell.

  “No. I’ve had too many orgasms to be mad.” Smug, Amy leaned back and put her hands behind her head. “Too many to count, ladies. Too many to count.”

  Nell snorted. “I bet Ben counted.”

  “Probably.”

  “That’s not enough detail, girl.” Hannah leaned across the counter.

  “The door had barely closed behind the Oakes when he jumped me,” Amy confessed. “Next thing I knew we were on the couch…and I came. I thought he’d keep going,
but he told me he was waiting until the end of the day. That he wanted to drive me crazy. That I would scream.”

  “Oh, God,” mumbled Nell around a mouthful of cinnamon roll.

  Hannah made a show of grabbing her own cinnamon roll and taking a huge bite. “Go on,” she said, her words garbled around the pastry. “Do go on.”

  “So, we went to San Juan, to the vineyard. Drank some wine, talked about his exes.”

  “Ooooh. That must have been interesting. Any dirt on famous actresses?”

  “No.” Amy hesitated. “This is weird. Normally I would tell you, but I feel like I’d be violating his privacy because he’s famous.”

  “You know, that is weird.” Hannah licked some frosting off her fork. “What’s the protocol when one is dating a Hollywood hunk?”

  “We’re just interested in the sex, not the ex,” Nell pointed out with a grin.

  “True. It boils down to him getting his heart broken by his college sweetheart and it sounds to me, never really trusting women much after that.”

  “Aw. Those damn college sweethearts. They’re almost as bad as the high school ones.” Hannah shook her head.

  “College sweethearts just mess a guy up for a year or so. High school sweethearts break up marriages 25 years later at the reunion.”

  “That’s so true!” Hannah pointed her fork at Nell. “Sometimes you have unexpected depths.”

  “I’m a regular Oprah. So, heartbreak, blah, blah, blah. Get to the sex.”

  Amy laughed. “We had dinner…I told him about Kevin a little…and then….” She paused for effect, and both Nell and Hannah leaned in. “Well. He was right. I screamed.”

  “During the foreplay orgasm or actual orgasm?” demanded Nell.

  Amy had to think. “The actual orgasm. That time. The foreplay time later.”

  Hannah shuddered and dug into her roll again. “That’s so hot.”

  “We did it all night,” Amy confessed. “And, this morning. Twice. I had to tear myself away from him before I ripped his clothes off for the third time.”

  “Yay, you!” Hannah finished off her roll and stacked Nell’s plate on top of hers. “Amy, I’m so happy for you. What the hell are you doing sitting here talking to us when you could be having more orgasms?”

  “Good question.” Amy smiled. “I’m out of here.”

  “Wait, let me get your order.” Hannah disappeared through the doors into the kitchen.

  Nell’s smile faded a little, and she looked at Amy, her brows furrowing together. “Look, we got off on a rough start, you and I.”

  “Yeah,” Amy agreed, cautious. Where was this going? She felt some of her sexy glow subside.

  “But, even when I thought I didn’t like you, I really did. If that makes sense. And, I like you more now that I know you.” Nell huffed out a sigh. “I hate this touchy feely shit.”

  “Do I need a tissue for this? Are you going to cry?”

  “Smart ass.” Nell smiled. “So don’t take this the wrong way when I say, be careful.”

  “What do you mean? With Ben?”

  “He’s sexy as hell, and major points to him for the multiple orgasms and taking the trouble to romance you. But…you’re not used to keeping it casual. Take it from me, the master.”

  “You think I can’t keep it casual,” Amy realized.

  “You’re glowing. And, good for you. The key to keeping it just sex is just that—sex. You can play together, but talking about your exes?” Nell shook her head. “Analyzing why he’s not in a serious relationship now? Going on dates? That’s a slippery slope to getting your heart broken when he leaves.”

  She leaned forward and laid her hand on Amy’s arm. “I don’t want to rain on your parade. Just, be careful is all.”

  “I’ve been careful for a long time.” Amy smiled. “But, thanks for looking out for me.”

  Hannah swept back in with a box of pastries. “Here you are.” Her phone beeped, and she frowned at the incoming text.

  “Dang it. I think I’m going to have to cancel Thanksgiving here.”

  “What?” Amy and Nell both said in unison. With no family on the Island, Hannah and Tom had taken to hosting Thanksgiving at the bakery and inviting their friends and friends of friends for a giant potluck.

  “More people keep wanting to come, and we just don’t have room.” Hannah sank down into a chair, propped her chin on her hand. “I loved the tradition. But, how would I decide who gets to come and who can’t?” She shook her head, her normally cheerful eyes sad behind her purple-framed glasses.

  “I’ll host it at On the Sound.” Amy heard the words coming out of her mouth as if someone else was talking. Before she’d finished the sentence, she wondered what the hell she was doing.

  “Really?” Hannah lit up. “Oh, Amy, that’d be so fabulous! It’d be just like when Amelia was alive.”

  Amy remembered the photos of On the Sound crowded with people, toasting, laughing.

  “Yes,” she said, more to herself than to Hannah. “But, you are definitely on kitchen duty.”

  “Of course.” Hannah pointed at Nell, who was starting to edge away. “You’re on dishes.”

  “Awww, man.”

  Hannah hugged Amy and bounced up and down a little. “This is going to be so fun! I’ll e-mail you the guest list so far, and we’ll meet later this week to coordinate the menu and shopping. Really, it’s not that much work; everyone brings something so we just need to do the turkey and dessert.”

  Behind Hannah’s back, Nell rolled her eyes and shook her head. “A LOT of work,” she mouthed, and Amy hid a smile.

  “Ladies, I’m off to have more orgasms,” she announced and laughed when they applauded.

  “Go get him, girl!” Hannah shooed her out the door. “Call me later.”

  Amy began to run through plans in her head as she drove home. She’d drag down a small table from the attic to put in the sitting room; any teens could sit there and roll their eyes at the adults while they stuffed their faces. From Amelia’s photos, it looked like the little kids had mingled with the adults, but there’d been a big group of people in the dining room and then a big table in the main room. She’d have to hunt down tablecloths, lots of candles, serving platters…She found herself smiling at the thought of On the Sound glowing in candlelight, filled with people, warmth, the wine flowing, the scent of the turkey wafting through the house.

  She’d done this, she thought as she pulled up to the inn and just sat, looking at the gardens going dormant for the winter, the windows gleaming in the hard autumn sun, paint fresh and cheerful. She’d brought On the Sound back to life. And now, she thought, another smile curving her lips as she rounded the corner and spotted Ben on the back porch, life had rewarded her with a sexy man to play with. It just didn’t get much better.

  ***

  After dinner, Amy watched as Ben bent over the dishwasher, loading the last of the dirty dishes.

  “Do you watch movies much?” she asked.

  He closed the dishwasher and looked at her quizzically. “That came out of nowhere.”

  “I just wondered—is it fun to watch movies, or is it work? I get caught up in the characters and the plot. But, are you always critiquing the technique or thinking about how you know the actor is an asshole or you slept with that actress….”

  Ben laughed. “I haven’t slept with that many women.” He leaned against the counter. “I don’t think anyone’s asked me that before, actually. It depends on the movie. If it’s really good, then I get transported just like anyone else. But you’re right, sometimes it’s work, or there are distractions.” He searched in the cupboards until he found the popcorn. “I’ve been wanting to see ‘Called.’”

  “I’m a huge Steven Soderbergh fan, too. I’ve got Neflix upstairs—wanna watch?”

  “I’ll make the popcorn, you grab the wine.”

  In short order, Amy sat on her couch, feet propped up on her coffee table, remote in hand while she snuggled up to Ben. They shared t
he popcorn while the movie played. Almost immediately, the film swept her away to another place, and a few times she felt Ben watching her. Soon enough though, Ben seemed to relax into the couch and lose interest in the popcorn, and she guessed the film had grabbed him, too.

  “That was fantastic,” Amy said when the movie ended. “So often the endings lose me—too sappy, trying too hard or depressing. That one was just right.”

  “Definitely,” Ben agreed, setting aside the popcorn bowl and pulling Amy’s legs onto his lap. He took her socks off and began massaging her feet.

  Is this guy for real? she thought, letting out a deep sigh as his talented hands caressed her arches.

  “So, tell me the insider scoop,” she said.

  “Hmm. Tom Hanks improvised about 75% of his lines.”

  “Really? His dialogue was the best in the movie, I thought.”

  “He’s not king of Hollywood for nothing. What else…I heard they filmed the opening scene in the desert, and it was about 105 that day. Jennifer Lawrence almost had heatstroke. The cut they kept, where she’s flushed and red and looks like she’s dying—that’s real.”

  Ben worked his way up to her calves, and Amy thought she might just melt into the couch. “I worked with the cinematographer on a film once. Damn, he’s talented. The stuff he does—it’s just phenomenal.”

  “You miss it, don’t you? I can hear it in your voice.”

  “No.” Ben paused. “Well, maybe a little.”

  “You’ll end up back there,” Amy said, leaning her head against the couch and eyeing him. She kept her tone light.

  Ben met her gaze, his eyes serious. “I don’t know where the hell I’ll end up. Amy, I’m a mess. I ran away from my problems—”

  “Hold the pity party, please. Didn’t we already have this conversation? You’re not a mess.”

  “What we have…it’s…” Ben trailed off.

  “I get it,” Amy said, laying her hand on his arm and waiting until he met her gaze. “Ben, I know you’re leaving.”

  “You deserve more. You deserve a happy ever after.”

 

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