All I Ask

by Nicole McLaughlin

  He pushed her legs apart and settled between them. Looking up, their eyes met as his mouth settled onto her wet center. Her lips parted, a small inhale of breath. Still neither of them looked away. With every one of his slow licks, her breathing became more ragged, each whimper encouraging him more and more. When she lifted her right leg and rested it on his shoulder he smiled against her, his ministrations getting harder, faster.

  When her eyelids finally fluttered close, he focused on his task. For a moment he pulled back and admired how beautiful she was here, touching her with his fingers before leaning back in to work her with his tongue.

  Her muscles began to clench, her pelvis thrusting against him, and he knew she was close. Within seconds she was coming.

  Watching her eyes squint, her lips purse, he continued to kiss her torso as he made his way into a standing position. Reeve bent a little, bracing himself before hauling her up his body and shoving his arms under her ass.

  “Oh,” she squeaked. Instead of protesting further she just wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as he carried her out of the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom. Her body was languid and exhausted. His mouth found her collarbone and he sucked on it, loving the saltiness of her skin and the scent of her light floral perfume.

  After entering his room, he headed into the bathroom, ready to stick them both in the shower.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, suddenly wiggling out of his arms. Her feet found the tiled floor and she looked up at him.

  “Shower. I’m sweaty and dirty.” He grabbed her hand, wanting to touch her any way he could. He began to turn but she stopped him.

  “Uh-uh.” Emily stuck her fingers in the waistband of his shorts and yanked him toward her. He went willingly. Her other hand slid up his stomach and she leaned in to lick slowly up the column of his neck. Reeve shivered, his dick twitching.

  “Your turn. And I want you dirty, Reeve. Just like this.”

  He felt as if he’d been sucker-punched as her hand found its way into his shorts, seeking out his cock and gripping him firmly. Reeve sucked in a breath, his hands landing on her arms.

  “Emily, you don’t want to do that. I’m a mess.” His head tilted back as her lips worked their way over his collarbone, chest, and then she was going to her knees in front of him, taking his shorts down with her.

  “I know. And I definitely do want to do this.” She lifted his erection in one hand and gave it a long lick.

  He nearly lost his mind.

  Looking down at this woman kneeling before him was the most beautiful, sexy sight he’d ever seen. Her big green eyes stared up at him as she opened her mouth. Her tongue lazily traced him all over, small timid licks that slowly led to hard strokes. He let her do that for a few moments, just reveling in the sight and feel of her. After a while he wanted more. He shouldn’t. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to stop her and get them both clean, but damn, this was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. There was no stopping.

  “Take it all, Emily.” His hand gripped her hair.

  Her eyes met his once more and fell shut as her mouth closed over him as far as she could. Reeve’s chest puffed in and out, ragged breaths coming from his parted lips as hers slid back down his hot skin. She continued to suck him, her hands caressing his thighs, his ass, and when her fingers trailed back to the front and touched his balls, he jerked in response. There was no way he was going to last much longer if she kept this up, but he was in heaven right now, and he wanted so badly to finish like this. If she knew his thoughts she might finally realize how dirty he really was, because he wanted to come in her mouth, on her face, all over her breasts.

  His hand went to said breast and he rolled her nipple between his fingers. Gently he pulled, watched it extend, taut and pointed. She moaned, her mouth full of him, and he hoped to God it was a moan of pleasure and not pain. The way her sucking grew frenzied he knew he had his answer.

  Reeve closed his eyes and let his head fall back, his hips lightly pumping in and out of her mouth. “Holy shit, that’s good, Em.”

  Her hands squeezed his ass, pulling him into her, and within minutes he was gripping her head and coming with so much force he felt dizzy. She didn’t let up, just continued giving hard pulls with her mouth, her strokes slowing as she increased the suction.

  His mouth dropped open and he tried to catch his breath. He opened his eyes and looked down to find her watching him. His movements slowed to a stop and she switched back to teasing licks on the head of his penis. Gripping it himself, he squeezed, running his palm down the length, rubbing the tip against her lips, cheek, chin. Emily nuzzled against him like a cat.

  “Jesus, Whip, you are so fucking hot.”

  She smiled, pleased with herself. Reeve gripped her arms and hauled her up against his body. “Now we shower, and then I want inside you.”

  He led her into the shower and reached in to turn the water on. When the temperature was right, he took her hand and held it as they stepped into the shower. Turning their bodies, he placed her beneath the showerhead, letting the hot water slide over her as he kissed her. His hands tangled in her hair as it turned to heavy, wet ropes.

  After a few minutes, she laid her palm on his chest and gently pushed him back before she began looking around. When she spotted the bar of soap she picked it up and began to lather it between her palms.

  “Turn around,” she instructed.

  Reeve didn’t question her, just did as requested. Her hands stroked over his back, shoulders, and down to his butt. She scrubbed every inch of his backside from neck to toe, stopping to place an occasional kiss on his skin.

  With a hand gripping each side of his waist, she turned them both, placing him under the stream of water. Then she got to work on his front side, lathering up once more before cleaning his pecs, underarms, stomach, and everything south of it.

  Her soapy palms slid over his cock, urging it back to life once more. The reaction had her grinning up at him. “I was afraid you’d be all finished for the day.”

  “I will be eventually, but right now just the thought of you makes my dick hard.”

  “Good.” She gave him a final tug and then focused the attention of her hands on massaging his balls.

  Reeve laughed quietly. “I can honestly say I’ve never had a woman wash my nuts before. You’re something else, Em. I told you I don’t deserve you being here. I meant it.”

  She just smiled at him before leaning in to kiss his lips. He gripped the sides of her face, slamming his mouth into hers, because things needed to get a little rough. A little naughty, because the moment had gone too soft. Too . . . emotional. The way she’d cleaned his body had been like a religious experience and Reeve had never in his life felt so cherished. So cared for.

  So terrified.

  He turned around and jerked the water off, then reached out of the curtain for the towel that hung nearby on a bar. He wrapped it around Emily and helped her step out of the shower before grabbing another towel out of the cabinet for himself.

  “You kept it?” Her shocked voice had him jerking to face her.

  She was holding the penis headband. He’d found it in the hall bathroom after she’d left that first night. He hadn’t brought it in here and hadn’t moved it since because he kind of liked seeing it first thing every morning and every night before he went to bed.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I figured I’d give it back to you at some point. Just forgot.”

  A faint smile teased her lips and he was relieved when she placed it back on the counter, leaning it against the tile as if to put it on display. Reeve dried himself quickly and hung his towel back up as was his habit, without fail. Besides a soap dispenser and a box of tissues, Reeve’s bathroom countertop was usually bare, but that silly headband had made itself a home there. It surprised even him how okay he was with that, not only because it was clutter, but more the fact that it represented Emily. In his space and his life. What else would he allow her to get away with?r />
  And was there really anything left to hide now? She’d seen his demons up close and personal. She knew in detail what others didn’t.

  When she turned back to him, towel tucked around her breasts, she had a smirk on her face. “You said you could go for round two. So are you ready to put your money where your mouth is, soldier?”

  He growled low in his throat and bent over, instantly scooping her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

  “Not sure if you’re aware, but I can walk.” She slapped his bare ass as he carried her into the bedroom and then flopped her down on the bed.

  Her laugh made him smile, and without hesitation he crawled onto the mattress and positioned himself over her, pressing his hands into the bed on each side of her head. Her eyes shone up at him, and she lightly bit down on her bottom lip. He let his gaze roam over every inch of her face. Her lashes were long, tiny traces of mascara smudged at the corners of her eyes from the hot shower. The apples of her cheeks were flushed and her wet hair only served to make her look more vulnerable and small. Having her body helpless beneath his weight, her watching him, waiting for him to enter her, was an incredible turn-on.

  “I keep saying it, but I’m so damn glad you’re here,” he said quietly. When he’d looked up from mowing to see her standing there, he’d nearly died of relief and happiness. Yeah he’d still been wary, but he’d been so certain that it had been the end. So afraid that if he ever saw her again he’d find only pity or disgust in her eyes. He’d seen none of that. Instead she’d looked happy to see him. Even a little fearful herself, especially when she’d said the words that had let him know it was going to be okay. Nothing about her makes me think less of you.

  Now all he could feel was longing, desire, and . . . gratefulness.

  Grateful that she’d been the bigger person. Grateful that she was willing to see past who he was and where he came from.

  In response, she reached her hands up to the twist at the top of her towel. Slowly she untucked it and pulled the two sides apart to reveal herself to him. Their gazes stayed locked the entire time, even as he lowered his torso onto hers. The contact of skin on skin, rough against smooth, hard meeting soft, was maddening. She rubbed her breasts against him and wrapped her arms around his body, her nails pressing into his back.

  Reeve leaned down and inhaled the scent of his soap on her skin. He ran his nose up her temple and then placed small kisses on her hairline, the wet strands cold on his lips. Emily shivered beneath him.

  “Do you want me, Emily?” He asked.

  Her fingers trailed down his back and gripped his butt. “What do you think?”

  “Say it.”

  She was quiet for a moment and Reeve closed his eyes. When he felt her hands framing his face he angled his body so he could look down at her.

  “I want you, Reeve Miller. I want you with me, on top of me, inside me.”

  He kissed her deeply, like a starving man that had been placed before a feast, his tongue delving into the hotness of her mouth. She began to undulate underneath him, rubbing her center against his erection. Breaking contact, he sat up, resting on his knees. Reaching over to the bedside table, he pulled out a condom and rolled it on.

  After that he slowed down and took a moment to admire how beautiful Emily looked spread out before him like a goddess to be worshiped, then he slipped his hands under her legs. Resting her thighs on his forearms, he tugged her body down to align with his.

  “You watching this, Em?” he asked, adjusting his body to line up with hers.

  “Yes. Hurry, please.”

  Quickly glancing up at her, he found her resting on her elbows, head tilted, taking in everything. He pushed inside her and she let out the most delicate and sexy little whimper. Inch by inch he savored the warmth and wetness of her.

  * * *

  As her head fell back to the pillow, completely sated for the second time, Emily smiled up to the ceiling. This was what it felt like to live in a fantasy. She’d been going about it all wrong that first night with Reeve, because apparently magical sex required more than just the physical act itself. You had to want someone. Crave them. Maybe even have feelings for them.

  She knew without question she felt something for Reeve. What or how much, she wasn’t yet sure, but the feelings were there. Denying it would be insulting to herself and him.

  After a moment Reeve situated himself on his back and hauled her into his arms under the covers. Her cheek rested on his chest and they were silent for a while, both listening to the sound of Plain Jane purring from the foot of the bed.

  “She sounds almost as content as you do,” Reeve finally said.

  Emily laughed and rolled to her stomach so she could rest her chin on his chest. She looked up at him, and he adjusted his body for her comfort, then began to stroke his fingers up and down her spine.

  “There’s no way she is as content as I am.”

  “She better not be. I almost broke my back carrying you around all over my house.”

  “Wh—” Emily smacked at his chest playfully and Reeve laughed out loud.

  They settled down once more, him still tickling her back.

  “Will you be inviting Mr. Boo to live with you also?”

  Reeve’s body instantly tightened and his fingers stopped for a long second. Finally, he answered.

  “No.”

  “He looked like he might not be doing well.”

  He sighed as if the conversation was tiresome. “I’m sure he’s not. How could he be?”

  Reeve shifted beneath her and she lifted her weight, wondering if he wanted to escape. She was relieved when he instinctively gripped her body, holding her to him. So obviously he wanted her here, but he was not interested in taking the bait on this discussion. It was time for her to go all in.

  “Tell me about your mother.”

  “Emily, please don’t.”

  “Please, you don’t. Tell me about her.”

  “You met my mother. Saw her home. What is there left to tell?”

  Emily laid her cheek down on his chest, hoping that maybe if she wasn’t watching him he would be more inclined to open up. “Yes, I saw her home. But that does not define her as a human being.”

  Reeve scoffed. “How does it not?”

  “What was she like when you were young? Did she ever cook for you? Take you places?”

  Silence followed her question, and she waited him out. Finally, he took a deep breath. “She used to make the best beef stew. Man, I haven’t thought about that in years. It was a lifetime ago. But yeah, that was my favorite meal. My dad’s, too.”

  Emily smiled. “What else?”

  “I don’t know. The last year my dad was with us she made me a cake for my birthday. It was just out of a box, but she’d never made me one before—usually just bought them—and I thought it was the best cake in the world. She even put sprinkles on top.”

  “Sprinkles are good.”

  “I actually can’t stand them now. You want to know something ridiculous? My mother can’t reach her stove or the kitchen sink, yet she loves to watch cooking and home shows. I don’t understand why that alone isn’t motivation enough.”

  They laughed together and Emily looked back up at him. “I’m sorry I went over there. I just wanted to help.”

  “I know, Em. But damn, when I realized you were inside . . .” He didn’t speak for a long moment, and the obvious pain he was dealing with broke Emily’s heart. “I’d never felt so humiliated in my entire life.”

  “I already told you, there’s no reason for you to feel that way. You believe me, right?”

  His eyes finally met hers. Thankfully his hands still touched her absentmindedly. “Yes, I do. But I grew up there, Em. That’s my childhood home. It’s hard to separate myself from that. My mother constantly blamed the state of the house on me. I knew it was bullshit, but to have your own mom put that on you . . . it was hell. Nothing I did fixed her problem. One day when she was at work I frantically cleaned the
living room. God, I was like a madman, I’d planned it for days, how I would throw certain piles away, stack some things up. I just wanted to clear the couch, the TV, and a big area for us to hang out. I thought she’d be so happy, I couldn’t wait for her to come home and see that I’d finally done it for us.”

  When he quit talking Emily wasn’t sure what to say so she waited. The look on his face and the tone of his voice let her know that this story would end with heartache. Finally, she asked. “What did she do?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “She cried for three days straight because I threw away a stack of old magazines and catalogs. Screamed at me. Told me I was the most ungrateful, awful child she’d ever known.”

  It was beyond heartache. She would give anything to go back in time and hold young Reeve. Tell him that it wasn’t his fault. “She didn’t mean that.”

  “She did. Her things mean more to her than I do.”

  “It’s an illness, Reeve. Like depression or alcoholism. That’s not your fault.”

  “No, it’s not. But I suffered for it. I was bullied, beaten up, made fun of.” His eyes met hers. “Girls made fun of me, Emily. Rich, snotty girls. They called me trashy and dirty. They were right at the time, and even if it was not my fault, I believed them. Even the average girls who were nice to almost everyone wouldn’t acknowledge me.”

  Emily froze in his arms, her insides aching at what he was telling her. It was hard to imagine that the strong, smart, sexy man holding her was the boy he described. How could she tell him her own secrets tonight after hearing this?

  “It wasn’t until high school that I escaped the bullying somewhat. I started playing sports, every single one I could. If it was offered, I signed up. Partly so I had a reason not to go home, but also because I knew I’d have a consistent place to shower every day. Our shower was full of crap.”

  Emily felt tears welling in her eyes, but she fought them hard. Reeve would not appreciate her crying for him, she knew that. Now that he’d started talking, it seemed he didn’t want to stop. She would listen all night if he needed.

  “I finally made friends playing sports, but it got old having to make excuses about why no one could ever come to my house. Some of the guys suspected, I think, but they never said a thing. Only guy I ever told was Brad. He didn’t say much, basically just ‘that sucks, man.’ But it felt good for someone to know. He’s never been in the house, though, even to this day. He’s my business partner now.”