by Nina Croft
She’d fantasized about him. For five years. She had his picture on her bedroom wall. Some small part of him was niggling, saying that perhaps he should be worried about that. That whatever she said to the contrary, she would try and hold him. But he shut the little voice down. They’d both been clear and upfront about what they wanted. There was no need to go all worried that she was going to want more than he was willing to give.
So they had five years’ worth of Lexi’s fantasies to get through in six months.
His stomach rumbled. He needed food if he was going to have the stamina to cope with a challenge like that. And maybe a shower and a shave so he’d be ready for anything.
Where was she?
He hoped she hadn’t left for the day. He got out of bed and padded naked to the door, opened it, and peered out. Nothing. The house was silent.
He went back to the bathroom, showered, shaved, wrapped a towel around himself and went back to the bedroom just as Lexi came through the door, a tray in her hands. He crossed to her, and took it from her.
“I thought you might be hungry,” she said not quite looking at him.
Was she shy after what they’d done?
After putting the tray on the bedside table, he went back to her and kissed her long and hard until she went soft against him. “Starving.” He released her and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked cute and sexy, her hair a mass of curls around her face, her mouth swollen from his kisses. She’d pulled on matching shorts and a camisole in pink with little gray hearts. The top hugged her full breasts, her nipples clearly visible, and his dick came to instant life under the towel.
Presumably this was what she normally slept in, but it wasn’t enough to go roaming around in a house full of men. He hated the thought of Harry seeing her like this. Or Tom. Or even the goddamn dogs.
He’d never been possessive. Another of his codes of conduct.
“Should you be wandering around like that?” The question just slipped out.
She cast him a surprised look. “Why?”
“Because I can see your nipples.”
She peered down. “Oh,” she said then gave a shrug. “No one was up yet.” She poured coffee and handed him a cup. “Eat.”
He helped himself to a plate of rolls and cheese, ham, and smoked salmon.
“I just got whatever was in the fridge.” She perched on the chair next to the bed and nibbled a roll.
He was quiet for a minute while he ate and tried not to think about the possessive thing. He devoured three rolls, drank two cups of coffee and finally relaxed back, replete. At least his stomach was replete; the rest of him was definitely feeling needy.
“What are you doing today?” she asked. “Do you need to go in to work?”
He did actually. There were things he should do. But he didn’t want to go to work. He wanted to stay right here. “Let’s not go in to work today.”
She peeked up at him. “What should we do instead?”
“Stay in bed.”
“All day?”
“Yeah. Stock up on provisions. Barricade the door and maybe work through some of those fantasies of yours. You want to describe a few?”
Color flushed across her cheekbones, and she blinked a couple of times then shook her head.
“You should make a list,” he murmured. “Write them down.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t think so.”
“Baby, if you can’t say them, and you can’t write them, how am I going to know what to do?” He grinned. “And how are you going to actually do them.”
“I’m hoping I’ll be swept along in the moment.”
“Give me a little hint then.” She didn’t answer, just continued to study her toes. “How about, I talk and you somehow indicate what you like the sound of?”
She nodded.
“Obviously missionary is okay. And if I remember rightly, from behind is your favorite.”
She nodded again.
“Anal?”
“Ugh, no.”
“Standing up? You on top? In the shower.”
She nodded again, but seemed to have gone mute. Just talking about it had made his dick rock hard. Hopefully it was affecting her the same way. From the flush on her cheeks and the pulse beating at her throat, he was pretty sure it was.
She cleared her throat. “We mainly did it different places. The beach, my office, the Heath, in the changing rooms at Harrods…”
He shook his head at that one. “Sorry, babe. For another day. Today, I don’t plan on leaving this room. And probably not that bed. Did we ever spend a whole day in bed in your fantasies? Have sex until we’re both too sore and too tired to move?”
“No.”
“You want to?”
She nodded. “I do have to go out for a couple of hours tonight. It’s my night to volunteer down at the rescue center.”
He rubbed his chin with one finger. “You’re a millionaire. You could pay someone.”
“I like doing it.”
“Okay, I’ll come and help you do the chores. That way we can get back here quicker. Now, how should we begin? What shall we do first?”
She licked her lips and heat shot to his groin as an image flashed in his mind, a vision of those soft pink lips wrapped around his dick, and he almost groaned. Would she? If he asked nicely? He didn’t think she had the experience to take the initiative, so it was probably the only way it was going to happen.
Christ, did he want it to happen.
“Can I ask you something?” he said.
“Of course. Anything.”
If you didn’t ask, you didn’t get, and his dick ached just thinking about it. “You ever fantasize about giving blow jobs?”
Her gaze darted to his groin, where it was obvious that he wasn’t disinterested in her answer. She gave a jerky nod.
He blew out his breath. Thank Christ.
She licked her lips again. Was she doing that on purpose? Did he care?
He put his plate on the tray and pushed himself to his feet, crossed the room, and shoved the chair under the door handle once more. He wanted no fear of interruption to spoil this.
When he turned back, her eyes were huge and fixed on him, filled with need and wanting, and his rock hard cock somehow managed to get even harder.
He held her gaze as he pulled at the knot at his hip and tugged the towel free. Then he tossed it to the floor and glanced around the room. There was a fluffy fake fur rug in front of the fireplace, and he strolled over there, feeling her eyes on him all the way. When he came to a halt, she glanced from his face to the rug, then pushed slowly to her feet and came toward him. A foot away, she sank down to her knees and he nearly came. Sadly, this was not going to last long.
“You might have to tell me what to do,” she murmured, peering up at him through her lashes. He was pretty certain at that point that she had to know what she was doing to him. His cock had taken on a mind of its own and was yearning toward her.
“Take your top off.”
Christ, he wanted to see her tits. They were perfect. She reached down, pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor. Yes, totally perfect and full, the nipples swollen and dark pink.
Later. He’d focus on those later.
Right now, he needed her mouth on him. And from the look in her eyes, she needed it, too.
“What next?”
“Anything. Do whatever you feel is right. I’ll let you know if it hurts.” When she sat there, head cocked to one side, considering his penis, he groaned. “Please.” He wasn’t above begging.
She shuffled forward a little. In this position, her face was level with his cock, and her soft breath feathered against his sensitive skin. Then she put out her small pink tongue and slowly licked from his balls to the tip.
Oh, God.
She did it again, and he couldn’t take his eyes from the sight of her tongue on his now glistening shaft. But he needed more—this was only increasing the torture. Finally, she took the head in h
er mouth and sucked. Sensation ripped down his cock, to his balls, up his spine. His hips bucked against her mouth, and she backed away.
“Sorry,” he muttered, but she gave him a sweet smile. “Wrap your hand around him.”
“Him?”
“My cock.”
“Your cock is a him?”
“Of course.”
“Does he have a name?”
“You’re a tease. Wrap your hand around the base and then he won’t choke you.”
“Oh.”
She did as he asked, her small hand gripping the base of his cock, and he let himself relax a little. She gave him a quick grin, and then her mouth engulfed him, warm and wet, and he closed his eyes and gave himself over to the pleasure. The world shrank to nothing but the tug of her mouth, the squeeze of her hand. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this needy.
Focus.
Her tongue swiped over him, and his balls tightened. He was so close, and he tried to pull away, but she held him, her fingers tightening their grip as she sucked harder, concentrating on the sensitive tip. His eyes opened to find her gaze focused on him as though he was her whole world, and something twisted deep inside him. His hand came up to fist in her hair, pull her closer, hold her to him as his hips jerked.
She loosened her grip, her fingers stroking his balls then squeezing gently, and it was enough to send him over the edge and he came in her mouth, pleasure shooting through him, his head going back as she continued to suck, and his orgasm went on and on. Finally, he was spent, and he tugged on her silky hair until she released him and looked up.
“Thank you,” he said. “That was…perfect.”
She sat back on her heels, wiped her mouth, and licked her lips. “Really?”
“Really. Now it’s your turn. You’ll have to tell me what turns you on.”
“You turn me on,” she said. “Just you.”
That thing twisted in his gut again, something scary that he didn’t want to investigate too closely. He was doing a lot of that lately—ignoring his gut feelings. Gut feelings he’d relied on in the past to keep him alive.
She got to her feet and went and curled up on the bed facing him. He followed, sat with his back to the wall, and she came closer so she could rest her head on his thigh.
“Did you know a pig’s orgasm lasts thirty minutes?”
“Really? Then I’m glad I’m not a pig. Not sure I could take thirty minutes of that without disintegrating.”
“It was okay, then?”
He stroked her hair. “It was perfection. Give me five minutes to recover, and I’ll return the favor.”
“Good. Because I fantasized about that as well.”
“I hope I live up to your imagination.”
She turned slightly and kissed his thigh. “You’re better than I could have ever imagined. My fantasy husband.”
And there was that niggle of unease again. And once again he ignored it.
…
Lexi was raiding the fridge. It was two in the afternoon, and she was a fair way to sore and exhausted. Josh had returned the favor, and not even in her imagination had she dreamed she could come so hard. And for so long. Then he’d flipped her over and taken her from behind.
She sighed. He was addictive. Which was a problem, because he was also bossy, and a loner, and a total commitment-phobe. She had to keep reminding herself that this was temporary.
Don’t get attached.
It’s what she had to keep telling herself when she worked with the animals at the rescue center. She couldn’t keep them all. And she couldn’t keep Josh.
“You okay?” She jumped as Jean spoke from behind her. “I thought you were at work.”
“No, I’m playing hooky today.”
“With Josh?”
She nodded.
“I’m glad it’s working out. You spend too much time looking after everyone else. You need someone to look after you for a change.”
She opened her mouth to say that she didn’t think Josh was the looking after type—in fact, she knew he wasn’t because he’d told her so—but the sound of tires on the gravel outside distracted her. She glanced out the window to see a black car pulling up. “Oh God, it’s my grandmother.” If anything could break her mood it was a visit from the family from Hell. “Please, Jean, tell her I’m out. Tell her I’ve left the country. Anything.”
Jean patted her arm. “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it. You get back to your man.”
She grabbed the food and hurried out and up the stairs. She slammed the door to the bedroom, dropped the food on the bed and hurried to the window, peering out. Her grandmother climbed out of the car, Daniel out of the driver’s seat, and together they walked the few feet to the front door. She couldn’t see them from here, but held her breath. A minute later they headed back to the car, climbed in and drove off, and she gave a sigh of relief.
“Everything okay?”
She turned. Josh was naked and obviously unashamed. For once he wasn’t hard, though she did detect a little twitch as she stared.
Telekinesis?
“Fine,” she said. “Just my grandmother coming to visit. Don’t worry. Jean sent her away.” She sank onto the bed beside him. “I brought some ice cream.”
“Did you? You ever have a fantasy involving ice cream?”
“I might have done.”
“You want to share?”
She grinned and reached for the tub. “How about I show you this one.”
That evening, Josh was like a tornado rushing around the rescue center. Maybe he was in a hurry to get back.
“Come and see Toby,” Lexi said.
She opened the door of Toby’s run, and the dog approached her slowly, head down, tail drooping. He wasn’t doing well in the center. She thought about taking him home, but he was still in quarantine so she had a few more days to decide. She glanced at Josh. When the dog saw him, his tail started wagging, and his eyes perked up. “He likes you,” she said.
“Did you find his owner?”
“Yes. He’s been admitted to a hospice. They don’t think he’s going to last long. We’ll take Toby to see him tomorrow.”
Josh crouched down beside the dog, rubbed his head. “Poor fella. Lost the one person in your life. Welcome to the real world.”
“That’s a cynical attitude.”
“Realistic. What will happen to him? Will he be put down?”
“No. We don’t put any animals down here, unless they’re suffering and there’s no hope. We’ll try and find him a home, but it’s hard with older dogs. And he’s black.”
“Is that a problem?”
“I don’t know why, but they seem harder to re-home.” She looked to where he was crouching, the dog’s head resting on his thigh as Toby gazed up at him.
“You could take him,” she said.
Josh glanced at her, a frown drawing his brows together. “I don’t want a dog.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want the responsibility, and my loft is hardly suitable.”
“Toby wouldn’t mind.”
He gently moved the dog’s head and straightened. “I would.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Don’t start thinking of me as some sort of do-gooder. That’s not who I am. Or who I want to be.” He turned and walked out of the run, waiting for her while she gave Toby a last pat and followed him out.
“I’m not your fantasy husband, Lexi.”
She didn’t answer, couldn’t think of what to say.
“The sex is great,” he said. “But I’m not looking for more than that.”
“Neither am I.”
He raised an eyebrow. He clearly didn’t believe her. He obviously needed something more. “Look, I admit it. I’ve spent an awful lot of time thinking about having sex with you. But it never went further than that. I never swore eternal love or anything. And it’s clear we have absolutely nothing in common. The sex is fantastic, out of this world, but I don’t expect anything else, and I don’t
want anything else.”
“Good.”
He didn’t sound as though it was good, though. He sounded…confused, his expression troubled.
“Come on,” she said, “let’s go—” She almost said “home,” but cut off at the last second. “Back to my place, and I can take advantage of you.” She grinned, and then waggled her eyebrows for effect. “How does it feel to be a sex object?”
Some of the tension went out of him. “After five years? Fan-fucking-tastic.”
Chapter Twelve
Josh woke slowly to a sense of well-being. This was the sixth morning he’d awoken in Lexi’s bed; it was starting to feel familiar and right. A little twinge of foreboding wormed its way into his mind. He ignored it, which was easy with Lexi curled up against him, all warm and soft. Her back was pressed to his front, his arm around her, one hand cupping her breast, his thigh thrown over hers.
He was already hard, and he eased back, reached behind him for a condom, rolled it on, and lifted her leg. Pausing, he nipped her neck with his teeth to wake her up—she wouldn’t want to miss this. She half-woke at that moment, and he squeezed her breast and then pushed inside her from behind. She was tight and wet and he filled her easily.
For a few seconds, he held himself deep inside her, savoring the feeling of rightness, and then he slowly withdrew. He slid his hand down over her stomach, through the soft curls that guarded her sex, and between her thighs to find the swollen nub.
She groaned as he stroked his finger lightly over her, then harder, keeping to the rhythm of his cock sliding in and out, slowly, no pressure, just the wonderful feel of her wrapped around him, the pleasure building, coalescing inside him. A shiver ran through her, her hips tensing, and then she came so sweetly for him, a sigh easing from her lips.
He released his control but kept his movements slow, letting the pleasure roll over him and drag him under.
Afterward he pulled her to him, curling her against him. They lay there for several minutes, until her breathing turned soft and slow.
“I love you,” she murmured.
He went still at the words, waiting for more, but she was already asleep. For a moment, something warm and tender twisted inside him. He shut the feeling down.