Bad Moon Rising

by Delilah Devlin

  His eyebrows did a little sexy waggle. “Sure you have, chère.”

  She hoped he couldn’t see the blush heating her face. She would have thought an erotica writer was way past blushing like a schoolgirl, but she liked the masculine humor glinting in his dark eyes and knew exactly what he was remembering. “I meant, your uniform is the only clothing I’ve seen you wear.”

  “You haven’t known me very long. I do have other clothes. After the full moon, I’ll take you dancin’ in Destiny. Do you like to dance?”

  She ignored the question, her attention snagging on what else he’d said. “Why after the full moon?”

  He gave another little grunt.

  She wondered if she’d annoyed him or if he was laughing at her. She knew her endless curiosity got on some men’s nerves. Guessing he either didn’t have an answer or was through talking, she didn’t repeat the question. She hoped the latter was true, because the night pressing closer around them reminded her of how much time had passed since he’d kissed her.

  Beneath them, the water lapped gently, the rhythm lazy and sensual. Crickets and frogs performed their nightly chorus. Moonlight from a nearly full moon lent the water and the bleached wood of the pier an aura of unreality, as though she and Mason were curtained off and alone in the world.

  Mason sat with one leg stretched flat, an arm wrapped around the bent knee of his other leg as he studied her.

  She cupped the bowl of her wineglass in one hand, and then raised her gaze. “You shouldn’t stare.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes. And your eyelids are doing that thing.”

  A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “What thing am I doin’?”

  “That lazy-lidded thing. Don’t know if you know it, but when your eyelids dip, you’re thinking about sex.”

  His eyebrows rose. “You know my expressions so well?”

  “Yours, I do. I’m observant. My ability annoys the crap out of most people I’ve dated, because I tend to blurt what I think. And when I read them…” She shrugged.

  “You said people, rather than men.”

  She cleared her throat. “I’ve dated a girl or two.” She waited, holding her breath to see if that little tidbit would make a difference to him.

  His eyelids slid lower. The arm cupping his knee released, and he scooted closer.

  A shiver ran through her. “You don’t mind?”

  “Why should I?” He took her glass and placed it to the side. “Do you care who I’ve been with before we met?”

  She did, but she gave a casual shrug. Maybe too casual, because his mouth slid into a wide smile.

  “DiDi, do you want me to kiss you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Please. Or hell, I’ll just ramble on and reveal some really embarrassing things, because I was just working my way up to—”

  His mouth landed on hers.

  She hadn’t known it, but she’d been strung as tight as a bow until he’d taken the initiative. Immediately, her body went boneless, relaxing as his muscled arms surrounded her, taking responsibility for holding her upright.

  His lips opened. She sighed into his mouth, then thrust her tongue inside, licking the edges of his teeth, stroking over his tongue, while his mouth suctioned, pulling her arousal into near frenzy.

  Needing air, she broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his. “You won’t make me wait, will you?”

  “Do you know any speed but fast?”

  With a choked laugh, she shook her head. “It’s your own damn fault.”

  Chuckling, he laid her on the blanket. Then resting on one elbow beside her, he slid one thigh over both of hers. His hand dove beneath her blouse, gliding over her ribs. Fingers tucked beneath her bra to caress her breast, pinching the tip and pulling.

  Heart fluttering double-time, she felt the tug all the way to her pussy.

  “Take them off,” she rasped. “My clothes. Too many.”

  His mouth glided over her cheek, and he nuzzled into her hair. “Do you want to move inside the house?”

  “Who’s gonna see? The cats?”

  The sound he made, a near perfect, animalistic growl, should have alarmed her, but the tension in his shoulders, and the thickness of his sex rubbing against her hip, sent her own arousal soaring. “Now,” she said. “Fuck me right here.”

  Mason pushed upright quickly beside her.

  She sat and thrust up her arms for him to tug off her shirt. Then she reached behind her for the snap of her bra, watching as his fingers flew down the row of buttons on his own shirt.

  He tossed it to the side, rucked up his white tee, and then reached for his belt.

  “Not fast enough,” she breathed, eyeing his chest. She pulled off her shoes, opened her pants and wriggled on the hard wood, shoving them off her hips.

  His pants already lay on the dock, and he grabbed the ends of hers and ripped them the rest of the way off.

  Panting hard, her belly tight, her pussy wet and pulsing, she opened her legs and reached for him.

  He knelt between her thighs, slipped his hands beneath her buttocks, and tilted her to receive his first, forceful thrust.

  They both groaned as he entered her.

  “Fuck, that’s good.” “Move, just move.” Their voices blended. Soft, short murmurs. More praise than instruction. Already, they knew what the other liked.

  DiDi traced the marks she’d raised the previous night, felt him shiver as she did so, and didn’t worry again that she’d marred him. She dug her nails into his skin and closed her eyes, riding his wild, surging strokes.

  Mason pushed up on his arms to stare downward. His gaze locked with hers, then traveled along their bodies to where they moved together, forcing her to watch as he thrust toward her center.

  The sight, at once lewd and beautiful, mesmerized her. His thick, glazed cock stretched her lips, pushing them inward, pulling them out as he retreated. In and out, the rhythm quickening. More moisture eased his movements, and they both groaned at the sensation of the slick, hot friction they built together. Her womb clenched, her vagina convulsed, sending ripples up and down her inner walls to urge him deeper.

  “Touch yourself,” he said, his voice thick and graveled.

  His voice was a sexy rumble and her nipples peaked harder. Her hands slipped from his back and cupped her breasts, kneading them, pushing them up for him to see the ripened tips. Then she pinched them hard, gasping and arching beneath him.

  “Touch yourself.”

  “I am!” She knew what he wanted, but stalled, wanting him to say the word.

  “Your clit. Show me.”

  Rubbing her palms slowly downward, cupping her ribs, dipping into the concave hollow of her belly, she arrived at her mound at last, and combed fingers through her hair.

  “Show me.”

  With the fingers of her left hand, she spread herself and stretched the folds upward to bare her clit. Then she licked the fingers of her right hand and rubbed the hardened kernel, up and down, up and down, then swirling and repeating the motions, over and over, while he thrust faster, harder—all the while staring as she pleasured herself.

  More naked than she’d ever been—in her desire, in her vulnerability—she watched his face tighten, his teeth bare. When he darted a glance upward, for just a moment, she thought she saw a glint of glowing gold in his eyes, but then he blinked, ground his jaws, and thrust harder.

  As she came, she screamed, bucking and writhing on swells of passion, urged along by Mason’s hard hands crushing her ass as he powered into her.

  In the distance, she heard a raspy growl and a squalling chorus of panthers that somehow fed the storm erupting inside her.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  DiDi awoke, surrounded by warmth.

  The air conditioner droned on, filling the room with moldy-smelling, damp air, but she didn’t mind. The warm body snuggled against her backside was a luxury she’d seldom enjoyed.

  That the body belonged
to one of the sexiest men she’d ever met made the experience all the more special. Mason Breaux made it very, very hard for her to think ahead to the day when she’d leave Bayou Noir. And she knew that day would come. She wasn’t one to let moss gather on her rolling stone. She was a good-time girl while the good times lasted—a writer with stories still to be created—and she couldn’t do that stuck in some little backwater town.

  Or so she kept telling herself.

  The strong arms enfolding her were a temptation she couldn’t afford. Once she’d decided the disposition of her inheritance, she’d have nothing holding her here. Not unless Mason let her know where she stood.

  And there was the crux of her problem—her fly in the ointment. He acted protective toward her, snarled like a possessive man whenever Bobby sniffed around, but what did his attitude really mean? They’d known each other less than two days. This interaction was nothing more than a fling. A sticky one for her. Mason made her yearn for something she’d never found in all her travels. That was all.

  She wasn’t risking heartbreak for a man who wasn’t ready to commit. Even if he did make a move, she wasn’t sure what she’d say. Perhaps she’d just savor the moment. Store away a few memories to bring out whenever she needed to describe a woman falling in love. Not that she’d ever let things go that far in real life.

  Mason stirred behind her, and his arms hugged her closer.

  She held her breath, and then relaxed when his breathing settled again.

  After making love on the dock, they’d come back to her motel room. By Mason’s taut expression at her door, he hadn’t wanted to leave her any more than she’d wanted the night to end, so she’d pulled him inside by his belt and shut the door.

  What had followed had been as rough and clumsy as any sex she’d ever had before. And fun. They’d clawed and strained until at last he’d thrust inside her. They’d both groaned loudly, then settled into a rhythm—slow grinding strokes that had kept their mutual arousal at a near peak for as long as they could stand it—before she’d cried uncle and succumbed to the sweet bliss.

  Again, he stirred beside her, his knees nudging the backs of hers, his breaths so quiet she knew that he too was awake. “Wonder what time it is,” she whispered.

  “Time for me to get to the office,” he said in his rasping baritone.

  She groaned and snuggled her butt into his cock, which was twitching against her skin. “Don’t you ever take a day off?”

  “It’s important that I’m on duty today.”

  “Why so cryptic, Mason?”

  His arms tightened around her. A kiss landed on her shoulder. “I like you, DiDi. A lot. And I don’t mind that you’re always curious, but this time, I’m askin’ you to wait. To trust me when I say that all hell’s gonna break loose, and I want you safe.”

  She turned in his arms and eyed his set features. “You’re serious. This is a quiet town. What the heck do you think’s going to happen here?” His eyebrows furrowed, and she knew she’d annoyed him. She sighed. “Sorry, there you were declaring your ‘like’ for me, and I won’t stop with the questions.”

  “Would it make a bigger impression if I said I might feel a helluva lot more than ‘like’? Would knowing that make you do what I ask?”

  Pleasure swirled through her, settling deep in her chest. Her lips twitched then curved into a smile. “Seeing as how I more than like you too, sheriff, I think I’d be an idiot to piss you off. Especially when I want you to prove it to me right now.”

  His lips grimaced. “I should go.”

  “But you want me to stay here, don’t you?”

  He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them, glaring. “I want you in this room come dark, and for you to keep your butt inside all night long.”

  DiDi studied his expression, noting the stubborn set of his jaw. “This is sounding more and more ominous. Are you in some kind of danger?”

  “It’s a town thing. An event that gets out of hand. Someday, I’ll tell you ’bout it. But I’m serious, DiDi, the less you know right now, the better. Promise me you’ll be here when the sun goes down.”

  She huffed a breath then pouted her lips. “Only if you get busy showing me how much you like me.”

  His smile was a quick flash of pearly white, and then he rolled over, settling between her legs.

  Silky hair brushed against her legs. A hard, muscled torso pressed her deep into the soft mattress. Lord, I could live to be a hundred and never tire of this. “I like how heavy you are.”

  A dark brow lifted. “You can still breathe?”

  “Enough. You’re so solid. It’s…comforting…and exciting. You are one finely made man.” All details that she’d have to add to her next story. His grunt made her smile.

  “You talk too much.”

  The smile stretched wider. “You always a grouch in the morning?”

  His gaze dipped to her mouth, and his own lips twitched. “Haven’t had my coffee yet.”

  “But you can have cream…”

  His chuckle was rich, deep. His cock rode the top of her mound.

  She growled playfully and angled her hips. “Love me some morning wood. That a big enough hint?”

  This time Mason barked a laugh. “Do you have no sense of propriety?”

  “What good is that? Will it get me laid?”

  He shook his head. “Chère, keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll turn you over my knee.”

  “Again, that’s a deterrent? I love a warm ass.” She glanced upward and tilted her head. “Love even better when I’m peeking at a fingerprint or two on my white butt.”

  “Darlin’, sorry to disappoint you, but right now, I’m not all that interested in spanking your very pretty behind.”

  “Oh, yeah? What is it you want?”

  He kissed her, hushing her for the moment, but she didn’t mind because sometime before she’d awoken he’d brushed his teeth. And he didn’t seem to care that she hadn’t as he rubbed her mouth and stroked his minty tongue inside. His lack of fussiness was a huge turn-on.

  The taste of him, the musky scents she breathed…everything was perfect. Something she thought she’d like to repeat often. She didn’t know how long she’d be in this strange little town, but for the duration, she knew she wanted Mason in her bed.

  Giving a throaty moan, he broke the kiss and nuzzled into the curve of her neck, then swiftly scooted down her body. His mouth closed around a tight nipple, and he pulled it with his teeth.

  Her legs moved restlessly beneath him, but he’d trapped her with his weight. He rubbed and flicked the tip of one engorged little nubbin, and her belly rocked against him, giving him the hint that she’d love a little attention farther south.

  Despite his lazy drawl, he wasn’t a stupid man. He bit her nipple and scooted down again, slipping his hands between her legs to cup her ass.

  He tilted her toward his mouth and sipped, fluttering against the knot building behind its thin protective hood—teasing her with laps that circled and tapped until she thrust her fingers into his thick, crisp hair and pulled. “Enough!”

  His laughter was soft and dirty, but he slipped two thick fingers inside.

  The touch added to the sensual torture, appeasing her for a few minutes until that, too, wasn’t enough. “Mason, please!”

  Thrusting relentlessly inside her, he added a finger, stretching her channel.

  She raised her knees and opened herself wider, pumping in opposition and beginning to pant.

  “I like that sound,” he whispered.

  “Which?” she asked dazedly, rocking her head side to side.

  “Your breaths,” he murmured, tunneling deeper. “You sound like a winded kitten.”

  “I’ll begin to scratch like one if you don’t stop teasing. Mason, I ache.”

  “Sorry, baby.” Only he didn’t sound anything but satisfied. At last, he eased away his fingers and knelt, one hand extending.

  DiDi let him pull her up, and then followed his silent ins
tructions to turn and rise on her hands and knees in front of him. For her, doggie-style made her feel the most vulnerable. She couldn’t see where a man looked, could only react to his touch.

  Already she trembled, her body and thighs melting in anticipation of the pleasure.

  He must have noted her reaction because his hands soothed over her. “Easy, baby. Shhhh.” And then his large hands palmed her buttocks, lifting them and guiding her backwards.

  She felt a nudge against her pussy, then another as he found her center. Gripping her hips, he pushed forward, pulsing in and out with slight side-to-side motions to stretch her.

  DiDi thought she’d lose her mind. His hands controlled her, kept her from shoving back and taking him deep. He took his sweet time entering her, while her body showed its eagerness with slick washes of arousal. The sounds they made together, lewd and succulent, made her moan.

  “Like that, baby?” he asked, then gave her a little swat.

  “You’re killing me, Mason.”

  “You’re hot. Are you raw?”

  A sigh huffed out. “Stop talking, dammit, and do it!”

  He laughed and swatted her again, then gave her a hard caress. “Your ass, I can see why Bobby was so eager.”

  “Shut up. That’s not what I need.”

  “I’m a better judge of that.” He pulled free. A fingertip swirled on her tiny hole.

  Her arms crumpled beneath her, and she sank her face into the bedding. Lord, she didn’t know if she could take it.

  Moisture dropped between her cheeks. The slick, fat head of his cock swirled in her crack, and then pushed against the tender ring.

  She resisted. Purposely. Repelling him. The situation had been different before. She’d been under their influence—“marked” as Mason had called it. When she’d been plowed from behind by Bobby, she’d been too far gone to think.

  This time, Mason seduced her, seeming to want her consent as he nudged her there, but didn’t penetrate.

  Her whole body hummed—with arousal mixed with a little shame—because she was nearly ready to beg him to do it—to go there. “It’s not fair,” she muttered into the pillow.

  “What’s not?” he said with another nudge and a tightening of his fingers.