by Dean, L. C.
She laughed at the idea and headed up the stairs to the cabin. One night to remember clearly, a few hours to feel special and safe, that’s all she’d asked for, but even a single evening seemed beyond her reach. A man who drove a truck like the one she’d just examined did not want a woman whose life skirted the edge of insanity more often than not.
After a quick knock, she opened the door and slipped inside. Shadows softened the corners, the only light coming from the open balcony doors. Curtains had been drawn over the rest of the windows making the large space cozy and intimate.
“Hello?” She looked around but there didn’t seem to be anyone inside. A breeze filtered through the screen leading to a spectacular view. She opened it and stepped out, breathing deeply of the pine-scented air.
Then she saw him. A long, lean cowboy type stretched out in a cushioned chair, boots propped on the railing. Sleep softened what would otherwise be a rugged face. Wheat-colored hair fell over his forehead and brushed his shoulders. Gold-tipped lashes hid his eyes. Unable to resist studying him as she had his truck, she moved closer, eager to see what kind of date Madame Eve had sent.
A crisp white button-up, opened slightly at the throat, covered his broad, thick chest and disappeared beneath snug jeans. His narrow hips contrasted sharply with the width of his shoulders, and long legs seemed to go on forever. His boots had been polished to a fine sheen, but they bore the signs of wear. Everything about him looked solid, reliable…safe. A shiver ran through her. What would it be like to awaken in his strong arms, pillowed on a chest made hard by work? The thought tantalized with the impossible. To be as well-cared for as his boots or his vehicle, to be appreciated scars and all, it would be a fantasy beyond even Madame Eve’s talent.
Still, she wanted it. For at least one night she wanted to be worthy of such tender care.
She hadn’t bothered to read his profile. The 1Night Stand service had sent it to her, but she didn’t want to know. She’d asked them not to send hers, but she had no idea if they’d done so. Expectations led to disappointment and could distort appreciation of reality. Though she doubted the gorgeous male stretched across the lounger was anything but what he seemed—deliciously sexy and rock steady.
He made her yearn for a sketch pad to capture his image in bold strokes of charcoal. Hard masculine lines tempered only by the laughter at the corners of his mouth and eyes. A study in unexpected flawlessness. She hated to wake him, to risk the personality would fall short of the image his physical form projected. But she wanted to get started, to talk to him, to touch him and push his proper cotton shirt from his gorgeous body, to rush toward bliss and explode only to do it all over…again and again. Impatience skipped through her veins, making her antsy.
The vague memory of the only lover who’d ever demanded she slow down, forced her to savor the delicious tingle of arousal instead of racing to the finish, teased her until she trembled. She shrugged and moved closer to her date. Rough and ready was better—less emotion, more getting to it. Taking the time to appreciate the lines of a man’s bicep, or the sharp angle of his hip, or the delectable dent which graced a strong ass led only to trouble. Slowing down meant allowing herself to dream of things she couldn’t have like compassion or consideration…or love. A ripple of forbidden pleasure rolled through her, weakening years of lessons hard learned.
Such dreams were for teenage girls, still starry-eyed and blinded by innocence. Grown women knew better, and she had grown up long ago.
Chapter Four
The scent of ink, leather, and woman teased him awake. Bella stood beside his chair, her long chestnut hair loose around her shoulders and down her back. A short leather jacket partially covered a black and silver corset pressed against her breasts, pushing them up until they threatened to spill over the top. The garment nipped in impossibly small and then flared over the low waistband of fitted black jeans. Knee-high riding boots protected her feet from the damp deck.
“You’re here.” He reached for her and pulled her off balance and onto his lap. Her gasp whispered over him like a nearly forgotten caress. Unwilling to wait for the niceties of a normal situation, he buried his hand in her hair, cupped the back of her head, and held her steady for his kiss.
She tasted of his purest desires—womanly and sweet with a hint of spice. His groin nudged her slender thigh, and he moaned as he pulled her closer, kneading her firm ass. He forced himself to hold her without rushing. Once she relaxed in his arms, he slid his hand up the swell of her hip, over the dip of her waist, and beneath the curve of her breast. He rubbed his thumb across the gentle swells above her corset. So incredibly soft. The skin satin against the rough calluses of his fingers.
“I’m glad it’s you, Bella. I’d hoped but….” How the hell did he tell her he’d been wanting her for more than six months and not sound like a stalker or worse a desperate loser? He groaned and tugged at her hair, bending her head back to expose the luscious length of her throat.
She leaned away, dark brown eyes studying him. “How do you know my name? I asked Madame Eve not to share.”
The anger in her voice caught him off guard. Did she really not remember him? Did her many lovers all blend into one as he’d first feared? To avoid the questions bouncing in his skull like stray bullets, he nibbled the delicate flesh behind her ear, sucking tenderly until she shivered. He pushed the jacket down her arms and tossed it on a nearby table. “Let’s worry about the little things later. First I want to take the edge off, if you’re game.”
Passion darkened the golden line highlighting her pupils, offering all the answer he needed. The thick material of her top irritated him. He’d waited too long for skin on skin. “Take this off. I want to feel you naked and willing against me.”
A soft whimper escaped her beautiful lips. “It’s cold out here.”
“Would you rather we slowed down? We could talk instead.”
When he started to sit up, she swung astride his hips, on leg on either side of the elongated seat of the lounger. With a sexy grin, she pushed him back. “We can talk later.” She rocked over his swollen cock, drawing a deep groan from him.
Nothing could keep him from tasting her. He did sit up then and she wiggled, rubbing her warm sex against him. He reached for the front of her top and slowly unhooked it, one tiny click after the other until his knuckles could brush the inner swell of her tempting breasts. Her eyes fluttered closed. He spread the fabric wider to capture her nipples between fingers and thumbs, tweaking them hard before he returned to the task of undressing her. The fabric finally gave way, and he laid it aside. Bright red areas marred her delicate skin. He ran a thumb over one and she winced.
“Why?” He traced his tongue up a mark, moving from one to the next until he had soothed each line caused by the restrictive garment.
Adoring the heat of his mouth on her body, she curled her fingers into his hair. “Why, what?” The spring breeze peaked her nipples to rigid points, but his touch warmed her. She opened her eyes to study the stranger. He easily snatched her usual desire for control away, leaving her content to let him show her the path to acquiescent bliss.
“Why wear something to bruise such perfect skin?”
A shiver ran through her as he traced the lace of her tattoo, outlining the roses with his fingertip but avoiding the raised centers she didn’t care to explain. “I thought all men liked women in confining clothing.”
“I don’t.” His hands moved up her body to cup the underside of her breasts and knead the tenderness until it faded. “I’d prefer you were naked.”
Another tremor chased over her leaving goose bumps in its wake. “I could say the same about you, cowboy.”
“Later.”
Not allowing time for her to over think the moment, he laid her against the cushion, her knees still draped over his thighs. He lifted one leg at a time and removed her boots, setting them down then taking her socks off. A half smile tilted his lips as he massaged her foot. “Nice toes.”
; She’d bought the bright orange polish because it was a cheery color, but with his dark skin beside it, it suddenly looked seductive. He kept his gaze locked on her face as he released the snap on her pants. Her zipper yielded without protest to his command. He pulled her knees together and stripped off her jeans and underwear in a sharp jerk. She cried out when he spread her wide once more and boosted her butt across the cold cushion.
“Grab onto the rail behind you, beautiful.”
She didn’t think, simply did as he demanded. He smiled a slow, wicked smile. From any other man it might have seemed wrong somehow. From him, it struck her as sexy as fuck. “What are you planning?”
He didn’t answer, just lifted her legs over his shoulders, shifting and adjusting her until she stretched suspended from where she clutched the railing to the breadth of his shoulders. The sinful grin spread wider, and his long hands cupped her ass, easing the strain on her grip while he massaged her muscles with tantalizing strength. Scooting a little closer, he blew softly over the smooth flesh of her freshly waxed pussy.
“I don’t normally like a fully shaved woman, but on you….” His tongue traced the already swollen and aching lips, a hot, wet stroke of heaven. “God…on you it makes me crazy.”
He lifted her hips higher, squeezing her ass to steady her as he explored her folds, sliding in and out, up and down, circling the point where she needed him most then darting away, wordlessly forbidding her from pressing against him.
“Do it.”
“Uh-uh. What fun is that?”
“Works for me.”
He laughed, deep and promising. Her body clenched in response. “You’re not in control. I am.”
For a fleeting second anger flared, but then he nibbled on her clit. Not hard, but delicately, like he knew exactly what would carry her to the edge without allowing her to soar. She closed her eyes to lessen the need to run from him. A man who brought quiet authority into every aspect of his life, from the care he took of his things to the way the kissed a woman, such a powerful man scared her senseless. He swirled his tongue in a lazy eight and teased desire higher. She dug her nails harder into the cold wood. Commanding or not, she doubted any woman would walk away let alone run from him. “Shit you’re good.”
The distinct upturn of his lips as he burrowed deeper brought a smile to her own. The pointed tip of his tongue moved to lash against her sensitized nub, flicking and stabbing in rapid succession, shoving her to the very brink. When she feared she could not hold on a moment longer, he drew her clit into his mouth and sucked firmly. The pressure sent her flying. A single finger replaced his mouth. He pressed steadily on her clit and allowed her legs to slip from his shoulders while he gathered her close with one arm. She did not care how or why she ended up lying on his chest as she floated slowly back to earth; contentment her only thought.
When the aftershocks faded, she returned to awareness within his embrace and the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her ear.
***
Jet smiled as her warm little body curled against him. His cock ached to have her, but he could wait. Even at almost sixty degrees, it was too cold to keep her outside, naked, for long. She jumpstarted all his protective instincts, had since she’d first asked him if he wanted to fuck. Daytona officially opened in a week, and he would bet she’d agreed to meet him because she was on her way down to Florida, coming across from Seattle. He knew her schedule, knew where she’d been and where she was headed; he’d checked her website daily hoping her location would hint if she would be his date. She’d have to head south in a few days at most, but if he could convince her to get to know him a bit—
She pushed away from his chest, her dark brown eyes molten chocolate, her lips moist and ready for his kiss. Jet swallowed a moan.
“Hi, beautiful.” He held out his hand in casual greeting as if she had not just come on his tongue. “Jet Ryan, and you are…?”
“Edgeless.” Her reference to taking the edge off made him laugh, but he wanted her to share her name. Or better yet, remember him so she didn’t have to.
“So, what do I call you then?”
“Ink works.” She bumped against his swollen cock and desire flashed across her face. “When I signed up for this, I didn’t think it would start out with a bang.”
“Oh, the fireworks have just begun. I hope to continue and end with a bang…or two…or three.”
Shifting so she could place a foot on either side of his hips, she rocked on him. He caught her waist and held her steady.
“Problem?”
“Yeah, I’m too ready to let you have your way right now. I want to watch you come again. I’ll join you next time.”
“Oh no, that’s not how it goes.” She slid back on his thighs with an impish grin, and he had to close his eyes to keep from losing it in his damned jeans.
“You see, Jet….” Her fingers traced the placket of his shirt before she slowly began to unbutton it. “I love to make a man test himself.” She spread his shirt open and slid her palms over his chest, pausing to tug lightly at the sparse patch of hair. “Mmmm, nice. A little something to grab on to while I fuck you silly.”
“Well, you’re in luck because I appreciate a woman willing to fuck me silly. See how compatible we are?” He did not take over like his body demanded. Instead, he lay back and let her play. His zipper almost split when she trailed her fingers up and down his cock. “If you want to ride me, sweetheart, we need to move this party inside where the condoms are.”
Her pretty pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, daring him to take the choice from her.
“I don’t think we need them yet. We’re taking the edge off, right?”
“Only for you.”
“Oh, but that wouldn’t be fair, would it?” She stood on the cushion long enough to step between his thighs and sink to her knees. She had to be cold, goose bumps covered her arms and pebbled her breasts to suckable tips. His mouth watered, but he forced himself to let her run the show for a while.
Graceful hands opened his zipper and pushed his briefs beneath his balls. Her eyes widened and a smile lit her face. “All for me?”
His cock jumped, already so hard it hurt. “Whatever you’re willing to take.”
She ran a short nail up the underside of his dick, slowly circling, and then gripped it firmly and slid the foreskin down. “Is it true an uncut man has more feeling?” Long reddish hair brushed her face as she bent and slid her tongue along his slit and then slowly licked him from tip to root and back again.
He gasped, struggling to keep a rein on things. The possibility of embarrassing himself loomed. Her hand began a measured rhythm up and down while her talented mouth tested his willpower. “I wouldn’t know about circumcised guys, but I feel you just fine.”
“Good.” She looked up through lowered lashes, gaze locked on his face, as she increased her pace. She sucked harder, her fingers teasing his sack.
The need to come pushed forward; he wouldn’t be able to hang on much longer. He gritted his teeth, struggling to hold out—then she stopped. Her hand encircled his balls and tugged downward.
“Fuck!” The expletive shot from him, clarifying her power.
Ink bit her lip and tried not to laugh at the poor man. He was incredibly hot. Beautiful hazel eyes burned into her, but his strong hands did not leave her waist. Almost as if he were deliberately letting her have a moment, but the fact he could take over at any second did not escape her notice. Thick muscles flexed in his arms and across his chest. A zing of awareness zipped along her spine and swirled around to wet her pussy.
She gave him a second to collect himself. When she bent low and licked his sack, the slightly salty flavor melted over her tongue like the perfect aphrodisiac. Nuzzling closer, she sucked first one ball then the other, rolling them gently. A rich masculine groan pleased her; his restraint faltered.
He pulled her hair gently, lifting her from his nuts to the cock he tapped against her lips. “Suck it.”
�
�Patience.” She sat up and grinned. He gripped the arms of the chair, knuckles almost white. Running her palms slowly up and down his inner thighs, she fed on the rush of having the big blond bastard at her mercy. “They say good things come to those who wait.”
The taunt earned her a chuckle despite his obvious struggle. “They also say payback’s a bitch, sweetheart.”
“Would you like me to take care of you, Jet?” She trailed her nails closer to his thick, ruddy cock.
He didn’t respond beyond the muscle that jumped in his jaw and the slow bob of his Adam’s apple.
Leaning forward, she wrapped her hand around his shaft and sucked him down, stroking in and out until he tapped the entrance of her throat and then pulled away. Over and over she took him deep, wetting him so her fingers could slide easily. She darted the tip of her tongue beneath his foreskin, exploring the silken head.
“Shit, Ink.” He pulled her off him and pushed her back against the lounger. Fisting his cock in his hand, he stood and jerked twice.
Needing to experience his explosion, she shoved him to his ass and took control once more. He came with a satisfied grunt. Salty cum shot in hot spurts, filling her mouth. She licked and sucked until his shudders ceased, appreciating the rush inherent in turning a solid man to pudding. When she shifted off him, she sat on her heels with a grin. “Still thinking payback, cowboy?”
He caught her around the waist and tumbled her against him. “In more ways than you can imagine, sweetheart.”
Chapter Five
Ink sat naked on the sofa, her feet curled under her. Jet had stolen her clothes. She could simply walk out to her camper and get something else, but the way his eyes followed her whenever she moved gave merit to the whole idea of au naturale.