by Tami Lund
“Speaking of tying yourself in knots,” she muttered as she worked on one shoulder with both hands for a moment. “Lie down. On your stomach.”
He did as she commanded, and when she straddled his legs, his dick went instantly hard. Great. Hopefully she didn’t expect him to move his position anytime soon.
“Take your shirt off,” she said, and he groaned again. Did the woman have any idea what she was doing to him?
He sat up and flipped the material over his head. When he glanced at her, her gaze was on his crotch.
Well, she did now.
Swallowing thickly, she made a motion with her hand, indicating he should lie down on his stomach again, so he did. And then she sat on his legs, just below his ass, and began to work the kinks out of his back.
She could do any damn thing she wanted because holy God, her hands were truly magical.
“You need to find a way to alleviate all this stress you’re keeping inside,” she commented after a few moments of blissful massaging.
“Usually working on bikes does it for me, but I can’t exactly do that while we’re here.”
“No, I suppose not.”
After another few moments, she said, “Roll over.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “If I roll over, I don’t think we’re going to get any more talking done tonight.”
She lifted up onto her knees and patted his hip. “Roll over.”
It was like one of his brothers saying, “I triple-dog dare you.” Okay, not quite the same, but even so, he grunted and flipped onto his back, feeling very, very naked despite his shorts covering a key component of his body. Not that they were doing anything at all to hide his arousal.
She sat back down, resting on his thighs, a few inches south of Johnson, who gave a hopeful jerk.
She leaned forward and placed her hands on the comforter on either side of his head. He had a hell of a view down her shirt at a lacy, purple bra cradling her perfectly round breasts. His mouth watered. He wanted to flick out his tongue and taste that cleavage that was so tantalizingly close.
“Let’s alleviate that stress,” she said.
He rolled his shoulders and smirked. “You’ve already done an amazing job. Thanks.”
Her eyes danced as she lowered her body closer to his own, and he dropped his gaze to stare at her boobs until her lips touched his. He closed his lids, wrapped his arms around her back, and pulled her more firmly against him as their tongues warred for dominance.
She came willingly, all of her soft curves melting against his hard body, like they’d been born for each other, their bodies sculpted in such a way that they would not work with any other person.
He rolled them both, positioning her on her back, legs spread so that he rested between them, his erection pressing against her core. She wiggled, and he definitely saw stars.
Grasping her hands, he lifted them above her head and twined their fingers together. “I’ve been waiting all day for this.”
Her eyes widened, but then she lowered her lids and rotated her hips again. “We could use a few less clothes, I think.”
A laugh burst from his mouth as he shook his head. He had to try to tell her how he felt before they went to much farther and he lost the ability to think about anything at all except pleasuring her. “I think we need to talk first.”
She pulled her hands free and pushed at his shoulders. He shifted backward, and she shoved him all the way over so that he was on his back again, and then she straddled his hips. This time, she held his hands over his head.
“Uh-uh. No talking. We’ll overthink it and it won’t happen, and I really, really want this to happen right now.”
“Me too, but we should—”
She leaned down and kissed him, hard, her mouth opening and her tongue teasing at his lips and what the hell was his problem? All of the dreams, the fantasies he’d had for the last two years were coming true and he was questioning his insanely good luck right now?
Madison was right. No talking. No thinking. Just feeling.
There would be time to deal with the rest of it later.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and rolled them again, so that he was on top.
She stared up at him, her mouth slightly open. He kissed her, watching her lids flutter closed before closing his eyes.
“You’re right,” he said after breaking the kiss to catch his breath. “We definitely need to get rid of these clothes.”
Chapter Thirteen
Madison was certain she’d never anticipated something so much in her entire life. Not getting her driver’s license, not waiting to hear back from Purdue, not graduating, not getting that call offering her a job in the ER—none of it compared to right now, in this moment.
Not even the first time this happened could compare to this moment.
To Kyle kissing her. Pressing his erection against her most sensitive area and shifting his hips just so. Dipping his head and licking her cleavage. She damn near levitated off the bed.
So he did it again. Because, of course, the guy had some sort of sixth sense when it came to her, and he knew what she liked without her even having to vocalize it.
She’d never felt so cherished and yet so sensual before. This wasn’t just a way to alleviate stress, as she’d suggested. He was completely engrossed, like he’d been waiting for this opportunity for his whole damn life.
It was crazy, of course.
And she loved it.
“Yes,” she whispered when he shimmied down her body until he was eye level with her breasts. He glanced up at her and ran his tongue along the neckline of her dress. She was panting like a dog in heat. And she was hot, so damn hot.
She tugged at the material like she was a toddler who hadn’t mastered the ability to undress herself. “I need this off.”
With a sly grin, he reached down to the hem of her dress and smoothed his hands up her thighs, to her hips, her waist, taking the material with him, until he tugged it over her head and flung it away.
“Much better,” he said approvingly, his gaze roving her over body. The look in his eye wasn’t exactly cooling her off though.
“You.” She pulled at his shirt. “Too.”
He chuckled as he shed his shirt and then sat up to get rid of the shorts too, until he was down to boxers with fat, red hearts all over them and that spectacular chest she needed to get her tongue on at some point before the night was over.
“I’ve been fantasizing about this moment,” she whispered. In between all the crazy from the day, which was crazy in itself because it certainly hadn’t helped her to keep her shit together.
His brows shot into his hairline as he settled himself between her thighs again. “Really? Tell me about it.”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Want me to tell you one of my fantasies?”
She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Yes.”
He cleared his throat. “One of my fantasies involves that giant tub in that bathroom. You and me. A bubble bath. Together.”
“Oh God, I think I just orgasmed a little.”
He cupped her breasts. “Let me see if I can get you to orgasm a lot.”
“That sounds divine.”
He reached around and flicked open the clasp on her bra, tugged it off her arms, and tossed it over his shoulder. Then he held her breasts and scraped his tongue over first one then the other nipple a few times before sucking and licking her right breast while slowly drawing circles around her left with his thumb.
She arched her back. “Please.” She wasn’t even sure what, exactly, she was begging for.
He was, though. He began sliding down her body again, kissing her abdomen and then her hipbone. He reached the elastic of her panties, grabbed it with his teeth and then released it so that it snapped against her skin. Her entire body jumped like she’d been hit with a taser, except it felt oh so good.
Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he dragged the silk and lace down her
legs, once again trailing kisses over her body. He made his way down to her toes and came back up again until he reached her quivering thighs. And then he began to nibble, all the way up, until he was at her core. Without hesitating, he dove in, licking her seam and sliding a finger into her. She threw her head back and bit her lip to keep from crying out as she gave herself over to the sensations, to the building pressure. She curled her fingers into the comforter, the coiling inside her body getting tighter and tighter, and then she slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the cry as she came, arching off the bed, her eyes squeezed shut.
There was movement, and the exquisite pressure on her clit was gone, although he was still steadily pumping with his fingers. Then his lips pressed against hers, and she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him as he dragged out the pleasure until she squeezed her legs around his arm because it was beginning to be too much.
He broke the kiss and practically jumped off the bed. “Don’t go anywhere.” He rushed toward the bathroom before she could say, “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I can’t stand right now.”
When he came back, he’d shed his boxers, and she took a few moments to admire his girth, weighing it in her hands, stroking it, teasing his testicles with her nails until he pushed her away so he could sheath himself with a condom.
She opened her arms, and he lay down on top of her but then rolled over and dragged her onto his lap.
“Do you have more than one?” she asked.
“What? Condoms?”
She nodded and bit her lip.
“Yeah, there were a couple more in there. Why?”
“Because I already know I’m going to want to do this again tonight.”
“You’re breaking our two-orgasm rule.”
She grasped his erection and slowly slid down, filling herself, connecting them.
“I like it,” he said, the words fading into a groan.
“Oh yes,” she murmured as she slowly lifted her hips and sank down again. “Definitely want to do this more than once.”
He placed his hands on her waist, guiding her movements, his gaze steady on her face. He made her feel…special.
She never wanted it to end. This feeling, she meant. Well, it’d be cool if the sex didn’t either, but realistically, she could feel another orgasm welling, and his movements were becoming erratic, and she was pretty sure this was about to cumulate in—
“Oh—oh—oh!”
His fingers dug into her flesh. She lowered herself to kiss him, swallowing his groans and her own cries of pleasure as they came together, both shuddering. He slowly let out a breath and then wrapped his arms around her, holding her against his chest. His heart was beating as fast as she was certain her own was.
And then he whispered, “If you really want to do it again, I think we should enact my fantasy and do it in that tub in there.”
She sighed. “That sounds marvelous.”
***
Knock, knock.
“Hey, Maddy, the rehearsal is in—oh my God!”
Madison sprang out of sleep as if she’d been working nightshift at the hospital and there’d been a call over the intercom for all hands on deck.
The sheets were tangled around her legs, which were trapped by a much larger, hairier, and far more muscular thigh. An arm was stretched across her abdomen, the hand cupped around her breast like it was cuddling a teddy bear.
Shit. She and Kyle slept together last night. As in, they actually fell asleep, in the same bed.
That wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t one of her rules she’d shared with Kyle, gotten his buy-in, but it was certainly one she’d committed to herself.
Now they’d actually spent the night together, and, holy shit, they hadn’t gotten around to telling Camila about the fake engagement either.
Madison sat up, taking in her sister standing in the open doorway and the man lying next to her in the bed, who was coming awake far more slowly. Reaching down to the floor, she tugged up the comforter to drape it over both of their completely and utterly naked bodies.
“Um…good morning, Camila,” she managed. Why she was attempting to sound as if it were perfectly normal for her sister to walk in on her with a man in her bed, she had no idea.
Camila flapped her arm like an angry bird, indicating Kyle, who yawned and stretched and then rolled over onto his back, nearly knocking the blanket off the bed again. Madison grabbed at the material to keep it in place as he finally appeared to grasp that they were not alone in the room anymore.
“Oh shit,” he said, which was probably a far more appropriate response to the situation than “Good morning.”
Somebody cackled, and Grandma Bryant peeked around Camila’s arm. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. That’s what engaged couples weren’t supposed to do back in my day. Not that it stopped your grandfather and I. Anybody who knows how to add can figure that out.”
“What are you talking about?” came another voice from out in the hall.
“Your father and I and the things we may or may not have done before our wedding day.”
“Wait a minute. Are you telling me I was conceived before you even got married?”
Grandma Bryant snickered. “Are you just now realizing this, Joe?”
“I always thought I was premature.” Kyle’s father sounded mystified.
“Okay, can we get back to this?” Camila demanded, waving her arm again like she was shooing away mosquitoes. Or pointing out pesky groomsmen and bridesmaids who slept together the night before her wedding rehearsal. “And did she just imply that you two are engaged?”
“I didn’t think I was implying. They are engaged.”
“What?”
“Why are you so freaked out?” Grandma Bryant asked. “I’m sure they used protection. You did, didn’t you?”
Kyle covered his face with his hand while Madison swallowed and nodded.
“See? All good. No babies ’til they’re ready. Say, have you set a date yet?”
“Maddy, what the hell is she talking about?” Camila demanded through gritted teeth.
“Why are you so upset about this?” Madison asked instead of explaining the fake engagement. “Yesterday you thought…”
She clamped her lips together, because what Camila thought was that Kyle had a crush on Madison, and after last night, she was worried her sister might be right. Which was why she hadn’t let Kyle talk before she jumped his bones. And why she should have sent him to go sleep in his own bed.
But she hadn’t. She hadn’t wanted to face reality, which would force them to make decisions she thought she’d have far more time to make.
“I don’t know,” Camila cried out, throwing her arms in the air. “Everything has been perfect until now. Well, except the flowers, but that was an easy fix, and I think they’re going to be even better than the original plan. And I think I’m just really stressed out.” She sounded like a deflated balloon by the end.
“I think you need a drink,” Grandma Bryant said.
Camila sighed. “That’s probably not a bad idea.”
Kyle lifted his arm and pointed at the two women crowding the doorway. “Could you maybe close the door and leave us alone so we can get dressed?” he suggested.
Grandma Bryant nodded. “That’s a good idea. Come on, let’s go get some coffee. Heavily doctored with Bailey’s, of course.”
“We need to talk,” Camila said, glaring at Madison. “As soon as you’re dressed.” And then she slammed the door.
Madison released the breath she was holding while Kyle dropped back against the pillows and dragged his hands through his messy hair.
“Well, I guess that helped avoid my usual morning-after awkwardness,” she said.
Kyle laughed and rolled out of bed and wandered around the room, apparently looking for his clothes. Madison unabashedly admired the way his ass shifted and moved and flexed as he scooped up his colorful boxer shorts.
He straightened and turned around. “W
ell, what do you think we should do now?”
“Is climbing back into bed and hiding under the covers not an option?”
He chuckled. “I’m afraid that might lead to the same sort of activities we indulged in last night.”
Was that a bad thing?
“And your sister doesn’t seem particularly pleased. Do you think she doesn’t think we should be together?”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying you think we should be together?”
He hesitated. “Umm…”
What did she want? Part of her brain was dancing around in her head, shouting yes, yes, yes, please! But her more rational self, the part that believed she needed to pay off her student loans and get that promotion and sock away a nice retirement fund before she could even think about carrying this little fling any farther, wasn’t convinced.
Or maybe she was just scared. Because something told her that if she let things get any more serious with Kyle Bryant, they might as well announce that their engagement was, indeed, real…and was she ready for that?
Hell, two days ago she hadn’t even been ready to consider dating, let alone accepting that Mr. Right was right here, in her bed, ready and waiting.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
He swiped his shorts and shirt off the floor. “I think you’re getting into your own head and talking yourself out of having fun.”
“So we’re just having fun?”
“Stop putting words in my mouth. I’m not talking about the sex, Madison.”
“I don’t know, that was pretty fun.”
He narrowed his eyes and glowered at her. She shrugged. It was fun. It was a lot of other things too, but those things were a lot harder to articulate.
“You know what? We haven’t been on the same page since you walked out of my apartment without talking to me first.” He started toward the bathroom.
“No, Kyle, wait. Don’t go.” She scrambled to the edge of the bed, holding the comforter like it was a shield. “I don’t want to fight with you.”