by Unknown
Regan replaced the red coveralls on the rack, turning to her sister. “Do I act like I’m desperate?”
With her brows drawn together in a frown Regan rarely saw from her sister, Lincoln shook her head. “You’re getting pretty damn close. I don’t want you to demean yourself. He is attractive, but no man is worth losing self-control over.”
An ill fog fell over Regan. Had she done it again? All the foolishness was about to end. Starting tomorrow, if Orlando Torres wanted more from her, he would have to pursue her the old-fashioned way.
Regan took the black pants from her sister and snatched an oversized novelty t-shirt from a reduced sales rack, throwing the items into the shopping cart. The sexual energy hammering through her body would be bottled and stored until further notice. Her sister’s impromptu lecture made perfect sense and she refused to chase him any further. “This is good enough,” she said, pushing the cart to the check-out.
Lincoln snapped her fingers. “Now you’re talking!”
Chapter Six
Orlando refused help with unloading the car and sent Regan inside the house. The rain that eluded the city the majority of the summer finally materialized coming in the form of severe thunderstorms. He kicked the backdoor shut with his foot dumping the rolls of wallpaper on the floor.
Regan began to unpack grocery bags on the newly installed granite kitchen counter. “What you got there?” He asked peeking over her shoulder.
“I have cheese, crackers, and fruit for snacking,” she said lifting containers from a bag. “And, shrimp etouffee that I purchased from this gourmet market not far from here. I will heat it when we are ready to eat. I made it home from the store before the storm.”
“Good thing you did. Anyhow, what you have sounds a lot better than the take-out food I was going to order. I have coupons for pizza,” he teased.
“Dinner is on me tonight, handsome,” she said opening the fridge putting the containers inside to stay fresh.
Orlando’s ego swelled along with the bulge in his pants. Regan was treading on dangerous water by using sexy terms of endearment with him. Every syllable rolled off her tongue with a buttery flow stroking the naughty areas of his mind. He may have carried himself gentlemanly in her presence, but he was a man with needs that were overpowering his urge to stay celibate. Even in the oversized t-shirt with Big Bird pasted down the front, Regan was getting him hot under the collar.
He licked his lips. His mouth salivated watching her hips shift with the movement of her legs. Her luscious behind screamed touch me in his head. He fought the urge to take a cell phone picture to use privately later.
The rain beat hard against the window breaking his absorption of Regan. He had promised Anthony to move things along with Regan and he was. After his altercation with Maggie, he could not get Regan off his mind. When she called to confirm if he was still coming over, he reacted as a teenage boy looking forward to his first date. It was her call that made him realize he was losing the battle with himself. He had fallen hard for Regan.
Although, he did not know where he stood with her since the night of her birthday party, he had noticed her flirtatious nature had calmed dramatically. She had not mentioned the date with Jon’s brother or being with any other man, but her content nature when they were together could mean she accepted him only as a friend and gave up on wanting anything else.
Working himself into a dander, Orlando gathered the rolls of wallpaper and glue and went into the living room. With the renovations to the house almost done, he would not have a reason to hang out at her place on his days off.
Since renting the house to her, he had been there fixing something or helping her arrange furniture. The only rooms she had completely furnished were the bedroom and kitchen. They would work side-by-side in the bedroom sharing stories and laughing, but no intimacy arose.
The one night he had been there working in her bedroom, they were sitting on the bed after putting it together. He could not help but become aroused by her sexy look in baggy clothes, a scarf tied around her head and paint smears on her face. He wanted to make love to her on the spot, but knew that was not an option. His only alternative was a long shower when he got home.
Staring absently at the wall, it hit him next month was the competition at Terminal Tower. Regan had not mentioned attending, but he would not mind her being there lending her support or waiting for him with open arms and a huge kiss to celebrate his victory.
He spread tarp over heavy plastic before getting started. The newly laid hardwood flooring turned out better than he thought. When Regan suggested going with parquet floors instead of carpeting, he at first hinged on the idea. As usual, her keen sense when it came to style prevailed. She had been right about painting accent walls in bold colors and wallpapering the wall surrounding the fireplace.
As he knelt on one knee mixing glue together, a pair of sexy toes peeking from oddly shaped gold-leaf high heeled shoes came into view. He looked up to see Regan looking down at him. Orlando grinned resting an arm across his knee. “You wore a Big Bird shirt and those silly-looking platform shoes with no heels. Isn’t that a fashion faux pas or something?”
Regan wiggled her toes. “I’m comfortable. And my shoes will not stop me from papering walls.” She took in a breath and propped her hands on her hips. “Where do you want me to start?”
“I can’t let you climb on a ladder wearing those things. I’ll hang the wallpaper; you sit somewhere and look cute.”
She gave a neck-roll saying, “That was a sexist thing to say, Orlando. Why don’t you admit you are trying to get me to lose the bet?”
“We are still doing that?” He said scratching his head, “You won. You painted walls and helped me lay the flooring. You've proved you are not a dainty chick.”
She rolled her eyes. “What did you call me?”
“Regan, you know what I mean when I call you that. So, stop acting sensitive.”
She raised her chin matter-of-factly. “I am not sensitive. Well, I am prepared to work and that’s what I intend to do.” She grabbed a roll of wallpaper and stormed over to the ladder propped against the wall.
“Regan, be careful, that ladder is old and unsteady.”
Laying the material on the mantel, she wiggled the ladder testing its sturdiness. “I know what I’m doing! This dainty chick can manage to climb a ladder without a big strong firefighter’s help.”
He crossed his arms watching her hold onto the wall to balance her weight on the ladder. “Regan, did you notice there is no glue on that wallpaper you took. How do you expect it to stick to the wall?”
She snarled at him. “I’m aware of that. Just bring over the dang glue and shut your trap! Once again, I have to show instead of tell you what I can do. It doesn’t matter if I’m dressed casually or looking fly—this girl’s got it under control.”
He laughed mocking her. “Baby, I’m all for the show. If you want, to make it easy for you, I could just toss glue directly on the wall.”
The ladder creaked and tilted when she turned around to flip him off. “You’re full of jokes aren’t ya?”
Orlando set the glue cup on the floor uneasy with her on the ladder wearing those gravity shoes. He moved closer to her. “Come on, Regan; get off the ladder before you fall. I didn’t mean to make fun of your shoes.”
“Are you going to give me the glue or do I have to get it myself? Never mind, I will get it myself,” she said lowering her foot on the bottom rung only to lose her balance.
Orlando’s long arms reached and caught Regan falling backwards from the ladder effortlessly. Years of experience catching falling bodies from second-story windows or victims tossed from firefighter to firefighter made this rescue a breeze.
Her body landed softly in his arms. He raked his gaze along the length of her hating he had let the conservationist stigma he had attached to him keep him in denial.
For once, he chose to ignore the self-preservationist part of his mind he listened to usually. The
space around him vivified. The hues of the room never seemed so rich or alive. What he wanted and needed had fallen into his arms and did not seek immediate release.
Her dark eyes came into focus as he studied her face. He didn’t want sex with Regan nor did he want occasional romps in the hay ending with massive orgasms—he wanted to make passionate love her. He longed to hear her scream his name with passion and desire.
As if Regan read his mind, her arms circled his neck. His mouth hovered inches above hers until she took the initiative and pulled him to her, licking his full bottom lip, and kissing him senselessly and uncontrollably. The pungent scent of wallpaper glue and her perfume lingered under his nose as their mouths devoured each other.
Regan’s upper body moved wildly against him as he balanced her in his arms. She did not weigh as much as the weights he lifted, but his arms under her weight weakened causing his knees to buckle.
He lowered her to the floor lying next to her not releasing the kiss. The heavy thunderstorm pummeling against the house beat in rhythm with the hard pounding of his heart. Every muscle in his body tightened. Sweat pooled on his forehead and across the back of his neck as her hand began a slow, leisurely stroll to explore the parts of his body open to her. The blood pulsing in his ears obstructed any verbal demands from her to stop. Her looking up at him—through long lashes killed any indication she wanted him to cease his seduction.
Her hand fixed on his fly. She broke the kiss and licked her lips. The impact caused his manhood to swell to near bursting. “Let me free him,” she said in a voice full of lust.
“Not yet, I want to see you first.” He took hold of the bottom of her shirt pulling it up. Regan willingly raised her arms above her head to help the ease of removing the garment.
Orlando took a minute to soak in the beauty of her body. She was thin, but shapely. The flesh of her breasts was firm as he gently squeezed them through the white lace bra. Pushing the bra up, her dark nipples hardened as his breath hit them, his mouth watered for a taste. Wantonly her body arched as he sucked hard on her nipple, gently licked and moved to the other.
The heat of her skin burned his lips as he pressed against her neck. He wanted no other woman the way he wanted Regan Richards. With no regrets, reservations, or voices telling him to retreat, he allowed the romantic sides of him to take the lead.
Burying his face in her cleavage, he kissed down the center of her chest to her stomach. He whispered lowly. “Regan, I want to make love to you.”
She jerked forward when his fingers found the button on her pants releasing the snap and easing the zipper down. His hand eased beneath the waistband of her panties to cup her mound. Breathless, she clutched her head against his collarbone replying, “Yes. Make love to me, Orlando.”
He lifted her hips slightly to shrug the pants over her hips. The familiar sounds of heated seduction escaping her throat meant he had not lost any skills during his celibacy period. Only this was not a refresher course for him. He wanted this experience to embed in Regan’s senses forever. He wanted her to wake up aching for him and go to bed thinking about him.
His hand massaged her mound feeling the moisture leaking into his palm. Her breathing staggered with each stroke of his finger over her slick folds. He fingered the damp curls but did not venture further into the folds of her womanhood. He didn’t want to rush anything.
He took possession of her mouth again and she began to suck gently on his tongue. His fingers brushed down her slender throat to her collarbone. Her hand went between his legs releasing a groan as she squeezed his manhood. He pulled away from the kiss to release a deep groan against her jawline then bite on her earlobe.
“Oh, baby, you caused that,” he mumbled.
He pushed her gently on her back and leaned over her. She panted, as he continued to tease her with kisses to her stomach and darting his tongue inside her bellybutton. He slowly kissed the spot between her waist and hip bone, not giving into her impatient hands clawing at his body. He was taking his time and exploring every inch of her body.
Her feathery touch became demanding after a while. She pulled at his shirt and the belt buckle of his pants. He lifted his head slowly, languorously, to smile into her eyes that were set afire with unbridled intensity. “Are you ready for me?” he murmured low in his throat.
She replied by ditching the remainder of her clothing but her panties. He did a slow strip tease removing his shirt and then his jeans leaving on the jockeys. She sat up resting her upper body on her elbows to watch him. No longer able to withstand the pressure, she crawled to him on her hands and knees lingering in front of him to kiss his chest. He took in a deep breath with the first searing touch of her lips to his skin. Tenderly, she outlined his nipple with her tongue.
His shallow breathing picked up a notch as her hair tickled his chest as she moved down his body planting kisses to spread spasms of fire across his body. She reached the waistband of his pants and stopped. Her hand brushed against the bulge protruding through his jockeys. She cupped him with her hand, moving her lips over the cotton material.
He thought he’d died and went to heaven. No woman he’d ever been with gave head without him orally pleasuring her first. Her tender fingers eased his jockeys around his alethic hips and thick thighs. He sprang forth and saw apprehension fill her eyes. He was well-endowed and women rarely recovered within minutes.
This woman was different. The initial anxiety she exhibited at first sight of his size did not stick around as she kissed the massive head of his manhood following with flicks of her tongue. He thought he would implode on contact from the sensation and wanted to be inside her for that. Her tongue traced the full length of his rock-hard penis sending waves down his spine.
His head went back gasping for air to fill his lungs when her hand gave a gentle squeeze to the heavy sacs. This was not happening. She was not about to provide the ultimate form of seduction a woman bestowed upon man. His gaze dropped to her mouth, slick with moisture as the head of his manhood disappeared inside her mouth.
He palmed the top of her head with one hand piloting her movements. If she moved too fast, he would lose it too soon. “Oh baby,” crept from his throat. Her mouth was warm, wet, and stretched wide to fit him.
Unable to withstand the pressure of her tantalizing tongue and sweet comb of her teeth across his tender flesh, he freed himself from her mouth dropping to his knees to be face to face with her. Months of celibacy had him cocked and ready to shoot. He wasn’t going to release his pleasure before her. It had been a rule of his to make sure his lady first enjoy sexual release and then him.
She ran her hands across his hard muscled chest. Her fingernails traced the flat buds of his nipples, down his defined abs and flat stomach. He moaned when her head rose to kiss his thick neck, throat, and chin.
The lights went off as a crack of thunder shook the foundation of the house. Neither of them reacted to the storm outside. The lustful storm brewing inside was more electrifying.
She continued the feather-like kisses, tickling his stomach with her tongue then playing with his protruding bellybutton. He smoothed his hands across the small of her back tracing the outline of her hips, drawing his middle finger up the crease of her spine. She lifted to her knees facing him, nipping at his lips, kissing each of his eyes.
His hand eased down her stomach until reaching the white lace panties soaked with her wetness. He whispered against her neck. “I want to taste you.”
She looked at him with sexual haze covering her eyes. “I’m all yours,” she said lying on her back spreading open for him.
He smiled wickedly as her hips gyrated for him to take her most precious gift. He lay between those perfect legs God created. Working his tongue along her inner thigh, he tasted the sweetness of her skin. The quivering of her thigh muscles against his face told her story. She was yearning for him as much as he wanted her.
Her back arched from the floor when his finger slicked against her folds. His eyes almost r
olled to the back of his head as he licked his tongue from the bottom up. The direction he would lick an ice cream sandwich and savor the velvety cream melting on his tongue.
The skin on her flat stomach became damp under his hand. Her mumbled rambles were incoherent to his ears. What he did hear was the sharp intake of breath as his tongue claimed the fleshy taut nub of her womanhood.
Her finger clutched the tarp. The muscles of her thighs squeezed the sides of his head as he assaulted her with his tongue. He levitated her from the floor when he plunged his tongue deep inside her hot core.
His manhood ached painfully as she called his name in sheer pleasure. Her body jerked and twitched reaching an explosive orgasm. He darted a finger inside her wetness drawing out her orgasm, watching her bite her lip and squeezing tears of bliss from her eyes.
As the waves subsided and her body and breathing relaxed, she opened her eyes and looked at him woozily. “That was the freaking amazing.”
He dipped two fingers into her drenched channel then held her gaze as he licked her juices one finger at a time. She tasted sweet and delicious just as he imagined.
Her eyes flared as she watched him lick the essence of her from his fingers. “Please, make love to me. Don’t make me beg.”
“I’m not about making women beg,” he smiled sheepishly and reached for his jeans lying on the floor nearby. Fishing through his wallet, he dragged a hand over his face.
“Orlando, don’t tell me you don’t have any protection.”
“Dammit, I must have taken them out.”
“Wait, I have some,” she said getting off the floor. She dug inside her purse for the stash Lincoln had given her. Resuming her position on the floor, she opened her palm to him. “Will these suffice?”
“You are something else, woman,” he said taking her in his arms to kiss her.