by Calista Fox
As the pads of two fingers went to work on my clit, my own fingers curled around the soft, pewter-gray comforter. He rubbed the sensitive knot quickly, with just the right amount of pressure. My pulse kicked up several notches. My breathing picked up as well.
I dropped my head to the mattress and closed my eyes. All the sensations he so easily evoked sprang to life, whirling around inside me like a cyclone.
The hand on my ass moved to the bed, and he planted an elbow and forearm alongside my hip. He leaned over me, his lips grazing my shoulder as he pushed a finger deep into my cunt, making me cry out from the pleasure that tore through me.
“That’s it,” he whispered in my ear in his sexy voice. “Take what you want.”
My inner walls contracted around his finger, holding it tight as he stroked me a little faster, a little harder. He knew how I liked it.
I arched my back and lifted my ass higher. He worked a second finger into my pussy. “So tight and wet,” he murmured as he continued to kiss my shoulder and then my neck.
I wished he were naked so I could feel his body against mine, but I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing in order to strip down. I was so close to a much-needed orgasm. It was within my grasp, and I didn’t want to lose it.
He shifted again, going up on his knees. His free hand slid between me and the mattress, skimming over my belly and down to the apex of my legs. He rubbed my clit again as he finger-fucked me, pushing me right to the glorious edge.
“Yes,” I moaned. “Oh, God, yes.”
“Come for me, Fiona,” he said. “Come all over my fingers.”
I squeezed the fists full of material I still clutched. Everything inside of me was tight and tingly. His fingers on my clit and inside me felt just right. Exactly what I needed.
“Do it,” he urged. “I want to hear you call out my name when you come.”
His strokes became a bit more forceful. He was determined to get me off in record time, it seemed. He did a damn good job of it. My breath came in heavy pulls and my body felt ultrasensitive from head to toe. Inside and out.
“Oh,” I said on a sharp breath. “Just a little more.”
He quickened the pace. My undoing.
“Michael!” I yelled out as a powerful orgasm exploded deep within me.
The collision of all those scorching-hot sensations felt like someone had lit a sparkler inside me. My pussy clenched his fingers, milking them as I savored every single spark.
“Jesus,” he said when I finally released him. My climax ebbed. He let out a low groan, then added, “You make me so fucking hot.”
I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder again. “I think that’s the other way around.”
His grin was a sexy one. “Getting you off turns me on.”
He withdrew his fingers and rolled me onto my back. He positioned himself between my legs and dipped his head to my pussy lips.
I moaned. His mouth hadn’t yet connected with my skin, but the anticipation made exhilaration race through me. I knew how good he was at going down on me. How on earth I had denied myself for so long was beyond me.
When his tongue swiped over my folds, my hips jerked. A strange little squeak seeped out from my parted lips before I sighed happily. He chuckled, his warm breath blowing against my wet flesh. Then he got serious. His fingers parted my labia and the tip of his tongue flicked over my clit, keeping my pussy throbbing from my recent orgasm. The quick flickering of his tongue was like butterfly wings fluttering against the sensitive bundle of nerves. My breath caught, and I curled my fingers around strands of his hair.
“You are so good at that,” I told him. He’d been the first man to ever make love to me this way. It’d always seemed too intimate, too naughty. He’d assured me I’d enjoy it so I’d let him have his way with me. Boy, had he been right.
When he gently drew my clit into his mouth and suckled it, I let out a sharp moan.
“Feel good?” he asked.
“You have no idea.”
He went back to alternately licking and sucking, driving me absolutely wild. My hips bucked, and my inner thighs and stomach quivered. The prickly sensation around my nipples caused me to palm my breasts and squeeze them roughly. Then I pinched the tight centers, rolling and tugging on the nipples as Michael’s tongue action quickened.
I was damn close to another orgasm. He slid a finger into my pussy again and used long, full strokes.
“Oh, yes,” I muttered. “Make me come again.”
He worked me a little faster and all those erotic feelings converged again. I cried out his name as a second, equally powerful orgasm slammed into me.
He was quickly helping me make up for lost time.
When his head popped up from between my parted legs, he wore a triumphant grin. “Damn, you taste good.”
Chapter Five
“You are such a bad boy.”
He winked at me. “And you like being bad with me.”
I couldn’t dispute that. As he dropped kisses along my inner thighs and then across my belly, I said, “You do have a certain wicked charm that makes me hot.”
His mouth reached my breasts. He curled his tongue around a nipple. I writhed beneath him as his body covered mine.
“Michael,” I said, suddenly in desperate need of skin-on-skin contact. “Get naked with me.”
He groaned. Lifting his head, he pinned me with a serious look. “Tell me you want me.”
“I do want you,” I admitted. “Badly.”
His head bent again and his tongue flicked over the other nipple, making me moan.
“You told me I never had to beg,” I reminded him.
“Just making sure you’re ready for me.”
“I think you already know the answer to that. You made me ridiculously wet.”
“I like you ridiculously wet. And insatiably horny.”
“Mission accomplished. I want you. Inside me. Now.”
He chuckled again. “Finally, some progress.”
Moving away from me, he quickly shed his clothes, leaving me speechless as I stared at all the bronze skin and rigid muscles revealed. When his briefs dropped to the hardwood floor, I gasped.
How could I possibly have forgotten how huge he was? Must be I’d blocked that out of my mind so I didn’t crave him on a daily basis.
“You’re gawking.”
I nodded. “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”
He grinned. “Man enough for you?”
“And then some.” My heart hammered and my pulse jumped. “Grab a condom and get your ass over here.”
“We’re going to need more than just one.” He walked over to the bedside table and opened the top drawer. He pulled out an unopened box of condoms and dumped the packets on the nightstand.
“Stocking up for the winter?” I asked of his stash.
He eyed the foil packets for a moment, then said, “Guess I haven’t had anybody over in a while.” He seemed to give this some thought, then added, “Not since you.”
“Oh, please.”
“No, really. I’m not saying I haven’t been with anyone else. But I haven’t actually invited another woman over to the loft since you.”
I found that endearing and terrifying at the same time. I latched onto the most acceptable explanation. “You’ve been out of town a lot this year.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” But he didn’t seem convinced by that answer, as though there were another one he was considering.
I didn’t think it was helpful to my heart to let him contemplate any other explanation, so I said, “Well, at least you don’t have to make a run to the drugstore tonight.”
“Indeed.” He snatched up a packet and climbed onto the bed. “Where were we?”
“You were about to be inside me.”
“Oh, yeah. Lucky me.”
I smiled. “You say the funniest things.”
“Glad I amuse you.” He leaned over and kissed me, his tongue delving deep, tangling with mine. He had the ability to ma
ke me lose myself in his kisses. They were long and sensuous. So arousing, they made me think of nothing but sex with this particular ex.
When he pulled away, I felt lightheaded. My hand rested on the hard ledge of his pectoral muscles.
“You are truly magnificent,” I told him.
“Not exactly irresistible, though.”
My fingers skimmed over his chest. I scraped a nipple with my nail, making him jolt beside me. “You have no idea how tempting you really are.”
“Yet, you manage to keep your distance.”
“I have issues with intimacy, remember?”
He shook his head. “Tonight, you don’t.”
Of course, he was right. My palm flattened against his rigid abdomen. “Maybe it’s just perfect timing on both our parts.”
He seemed to give this some thought, then agreed. “Sometimes it all falls into place.”
I couldn’t argue with that. He’d listened to my ranting and accepted my fears. Then he’d turned the tables on me and made me see that I was the one who’d taken the easy way out when the proverbial going had gotten tough.
“I do like that you challenge me.” My hand moved lower and I rubbed his hard cock, which pulsed under my touch. I admitted, “You’re exasperating sometimes, but no more so than me.”
“Agreed.” His voice was a bit darker, a bit sexier. “You know, we’re really not so different.”
I eyed him curiously. “How do you figure?”
“Why do you think I’ve been commitment shy for so long?”
I stared at him for several moments before realization dawned on me. My hand stilled. “It happened to you too.”
He nodded. “When I was nineteen. Granted, it wasn’t mature love, but at that age…I don’t know. Things like that are traumatic when you’re a teenager. Devastating.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
I moved my hand upward, along his warm skin and hard muscles until my fingers grazed his jaw. I was stunned by his admission, but also touched by it. We’d never talked about this part of his past before. It wasn’t exactly a subject I knew how to broach. Asking something like, “Exactly why do you enjoy screwing a different woman every couple of weeks?” never seemed like polite conversation. Now I knew why he’d never brought it up.
“I’m sorry.”
“It was ten years ago. I’m pretty much over it.”
I tilted my head to one side and regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. I realized now he hadn’t been sympathetic when I’d cried on his shoulder about Seth. He’d been empathetic. He hadn’t pitied me. He’d understood me. Because he’d known how it felt to be deceived and betrayed. His course of action had obviously been to date hot women and never settle down with one in particular. Mine had been to hide. Neither one of us were right.
“Everyone’s heart gets broken at some point in life,” I said. Facing a fact I’d never really considered. It was always so much more painful when it happened to you. Like no one else on the planet could possibly understand your agony and humiliation. But that was a misconception. Plenty of people had suffered my same fate. I was willing to bet that a good number of them picked themselves up, dusted themselves off and moved on with hopes of finding love again. I’d simply told myself it would never happen a second time.
Lying in Michael’s bed, both of us naked and him holding a condom in his hand, was not exactly the place to have an epiphany. Or maybe it was…
I said, “Sometimes when you call me from the road, I wonder, ‘why me?’ I mean, you’re either jetting about or riding around on your motorcycle, in a different city every couple of days to take awesome landscapes for your books. You have tons of fans. Women fall all over themselves to get your attention. And yet, two or three times a week, you call me when you get to your hotel room.”
He didn’t say anything for a few moments. I was surprised there was no anxiety welling within me as the seconds ticked by and he still didn’t answer. I had no idea what to expect by way of an explanation, but for the first time, I wasn’t wrapped around the axle about it. I genuinely wanted to know, and I didn’t feel apprehensive over what the response might be.
Finally he said, “I like my career. I like that I’ve made a name for myself and can sell books featuring my work. Travel is part and parcel of the gig. I’ve always enjoyed it. But it does get lonely. And I really did miss you more than usual while I was gone this last time.”
He paused a moment and stared at me, searching my eyes for Lord only knew what. Then he said, “Those three weeks we spent together. They freaked me out as much as they did you. I just handled it better.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, a little perplexed by his admission.
“I didn’t once think about cheating on you. No other woman turned my head. I worked on my book. I did a couple of side jobs for you. Every night, we had dinner and a couple of drinks, either here or at a restaurant. Then we’d curl up in front of the fire or soak in the Jacuzzi or play poker. We’d always end up making out and then making love. Exactly what I wanted.”
My teeth clamped down on my lower lip to keep me from saying anything. Or to keep it from quivering, I wasn’t sure.
He said, quite simply, “I loved every single one of those nights we shared.”
Ah, crap.
I felt that prickle behind my eyes again. I squeezed them shut for a moment, then opened them and willed my voice to be steady as I said, “Me too.”
He didn’t press me. A first. Rather, he settled more comfortably against the pile of pillows and stared at me.
I snuggled against him, resting my head against his shoulder. I couldn’t stop touching him, even given the touchy subject matter. My fingers drew lazy circles on his abdomen as I said, “It was different with you. Not like it was with Seth. With him, I was…a Carlisle. In every sense of the word. I had to dress right and act right. Entertain and overachieve. For that period of time in my life, I pretended I wanted all of the things my parents had told me I was supposed to want. A law degree. A wealthy, prominent husband. A huge house in Pacific Heights with a Bentley in the garage. A membership at the country club. Designer clothes and all the latest gadgets.”
I remembered after I’d gotten my bachelor’s degree and was accepted into Harvard’s law school, I had really and truly tried to be everything my parents wanted and expected me to be. Even though, for the first twenty-two years of my life, I’d insisted on being my own person.
I’m not sure what had changed my senior year of college. Something had made me think I ought to at least try to be the daughter the Honorable Mitchell and Briana Carlisle longed to have. The one who would follow in their footsteps. Join a prestigious law firm and then become a judge, like them.
I’d traveled that path for several years before I’d discovered Seth was screwing my sister.
I recalled, quite vividly, the day I’d decided to go into public relations. I had a law degree from Harvard. Had been hired by the top firm in San Francisco, where Seth worked.
“At a family dinner,” I told Michael as I shifted on the bed and partially covered his body with mine, “I announced I was quitting the firm and going into business for myself—in PR. Every jaw dropped. Then, there was this eruption of discontent. My parents were appalled. Seth was mortified. My aunts and uncles were in an uproar.”
“And Lizzie?”
I stared down at him as my palms splayed across his chest. Funny he should ask about her. He knew us all too well. In my mind’s eye, I pictured that night in my parent’s formal dining room, remembering so vividly everything Lizzie had said and done. “She smiled. Because she knew.”
He nodded. “You’d just handed her the trump card she needed to land Seth herself.”
Suddenly, everything became crystal clear for me. My gaze still locked with his, I wondered, “Did I do it on purpose?”
“Chewed your own hand off to escape the proverbial trap?”
“Yes.”
One dark brow lifte
d. That was all he needed to say.
“Wow.” I stared at Michael. He stared back.
In an instant, I was liberated.
He kept quiet, and I was grateful for his silence. I wasn’t exactly up for an in-depth analysis of my sudden revelation from him, or from me. I understood I had things to ponder and reflect upon. Reconcile. For the moment, however, I was only interested in exploring how freed I was of the constraints I’d inadvertently put on myself.
Straddling his lap, I sat up and he followed, wrapping his arms around my waist, holding me to him. An intimate gesture that didn’t scare me. Instead, it intensified my breakthrough. One I was clearly meant to have with this man.
“In the grand scheme of things, it’s my fault I lost Seth to Lizzie. Because I changed. I switched from doing what everyone expected me to do, to doing what I wanted to do.”
He listened intently, still not saying anything.
“I know what I want, career-wise. I know I don’t want to be shackled to my family’s ideals and specifications of how I should live my life.”
“And what about love?” he finally asked.
A valid question. In all honesty, I said, “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. I guess I just…gave up on it.”
He nodded. “I can understand that.”
Of course he could. Apparently, he’d given up on it too.
“Why do you suppose you’ve stuck it out with me?” I asked as I pushed a thick lock of hair from his forehead. “I mean, we were friends in the beginning and then better friends after the Seth debacle. Closer still, in an intimate way, when we were lovers. And yet, still great friends after I broke it off.”
He sighed. “I don’t know. All I know is that I value our friendship. Relationship. Whatever it is. I care about you. I also want you in my bed.”
“I am in your bed.”
He laughed. “On a more frequent basis.”
“Oh.”
His strong arms unraveled from my waist, and he cupped my face with his hands. “Guess you could say, one man’s loss is another man’s gain.”
Smiling, I said, “Thank you.”
His soft lips grazed mine before we both opened our mouths and his tongue swept over mine. I melted in his arms. He had no trouble at all making me forget tonight’s ruminations and tomorrow’s party. With just a kiss and his hard body pressed to my softer one, I was lost in a passion-induced haze. His skin was hot against mine, and his hands roamed my body, cupping my breasts, then sliding down my sides and around to my ass.