by Cranford, B.
“Are you happy to be home?”
I blinked at Rose’s question, my mind slow to switch from dirty to conversational. “Ah, yeah. Tired, I guess.”
“You didn’t sleep on the plane?”
I shook my head rather than answer verbally, my eyes locked on Bianca as she took in my place.
“I should let you settle in then, huh?” Rose made a snickering sort of sound that drew my attention toward her, and when I turned to face her, I saw her raised eyebrow, her knowing smirk.
There was no doubt my sister had realized something was going on between me and the pretty girl who had taken a step into the small family room to the left of the front door and was looking at the photos on the walls. She’d have had to be stupid to miss it and she was anything but.
Nodding, I offered an apologetic smile. “I missed you, tiger.”
“Missed you too. Come over to Mum and Dad’s for tea later, okay? We can catch up.” She stepped into my arms and I wrapped them easily around her. “I have something to tell you.”
“Uh oh. Up the duff, Rosebud? Dad’s going to flip his shit.”
Pinching my back, my little sister laughed readily. “Yeah, no. Not pregnant.”
“I’d make a good uncle though. You have to admit. Fun Uncle Luc rolls off the tongue.” I let her go, grinning at her as she rolled her eyes. “What? It does.”
“Whatever, dude. Have fun this arvo. Get some”—she paused, her eyes darting surreptitiously toward Bianca, who was still inspecting the photos of my family and friends—“rest. You’re probably knackered.”
“You know it.”
Laughing, she took a couple of steps closer to the family room and called out a goodbye to Bianca. “I hope you’ll come with Lucas later.”
I swear, if I’d thought fast enough, I’d have whipped my phone out to commemorate that moment. Instead of flushing at my sister’s unsubtle comment, Bianca merely nodded, her lips curled into a self-satisfied smile. “I sure will.”
Snorting a little at Bianca’s reply, Rose turned to walk out, intentionally giving me a little bump on the way past. “I love her,” she whispered, not waiting for a reply before sailing out the front door and closing it behind her.
Turning to Bianca, relieved that we were now alone, I watched as she quietly moved toward me, a look of desperate want, and the need to finish what we started on that plane, written on her gorgeous as fuck face.
Except, instead of all the X-rated, dirty thoughts that should have been cascading through my mind, all I could hear was Rose’s whispered declaration of love.
Because, despite the fact we’d only known each other for a few hours, I could almost hear myself saying “me too.”
* * *
“Is that you?” Bianca pointed to one of the photos on the wall, her head tilted in question. “You look younger.”
I grabbed my chest, pretending to be offended, which earned me a laugh. Shit, but she had a pretty laugh. It spurred the dirty thoughts back to life—helped along by the way she licked her lips after, the teasing hint of her tongue making me want to forget her question and just kiss her.
“Yeah, me and my best mates, Max”—I stepped closer and pointed out each friend—“and Ryan. We were about sixteen, I reckon.”
“‘I reckon’ is so Australian.”
“That right?” I nudged her. “You like it, huh?”
“Oh yeah. It gets me kind of hot, to be honest.”
Annnnnnnd apparently, I wasn’t the only one planning to tease a bit. But hey, since she’d started the conversation, I was going to run with it. I stepped closer, closer, until I was nearly crowding her. She held her ground, the look in her eye telling me she knew what I was doing and that she approved.
Speaking of things getting us hot . . . the way she didn’t back down was definitely working for me.
“What else gets you hot, pretty girl?” Lifting my hand to her hair, I twined one of the glossy curls around my finger. “You can tell me. In explicit detail.”
Reaching out, she placed her hands on my hips and brought me even closer. Until my cock—which had stood to rigid attention from more or less the moment my sister shut the door behind her—was pressed against her body.
“That. That gets me hot.” She emphasized her meaning by placing her hand over me, squeezing enough that a strangled noise escaped my lips. It felt so good. Too good. Knowing what she was capable of in a tiny aeroplane bathroom, and pairing that knowledge with the fact we had a whole house and several hours to ourselves, put me on the verge of coming in my pants.
At least if I embarrassed myself in that way, I’d have plenty of time to make it up to her later.
“You want my cock, baby?” I pulled down, letting the curl straighten then bounce back as it unwound from my finger. “You want to know what it’s like to be with me when we aren’t confined to a small space?”
Her nod was emphatic and absolutely responsible for the way my heart sped up.
She wanted me.
She was in my house, after trusting me enough to come home with me.
I was going to reward her so fucking good, she wouldn’t be able to sit down for the rest of the day.
“But first . . .” She trailed off, taking a step back and making me wish I’d wrapped my arms around her to stop her from escaping our little desire-filled bubble.
“But first?” I prompted, wanting to know what it would take to get her into my arms, then spread out across my bed.
“I need a shower, Luc.” Her smile was bordering on shy, and her eyes darted away, telling me that she actually was feeling a little shy. I had no idea why, but I also wasn’t going to deny her what she wanted.
Anything she wanted.
“Well then, let me lead the way.” I reached out for her hand, which she gave me without hesitation, and headed for the master bedroom en-suite. I most definitely wanted her near the bed when she was finished washing that hot, tight, little body.
“I need some things from my bag though,” she protested, falling into step behind me without another word.
“I have everything you need, pretty girl.” It sounded like a cheesy line and yeah, in some ways it was, but it was also true. My bathroom had shampoo, soap, towels, and hot water.
What else could she possibly need? I didn’t exactly plan for her to get dressed, so clean clothes were out of the question. Maybe what she needed was me under the water, getting clean—so we could get dirty—alongside her?
It sounded like a good-fucking-idea to me.
“You up for some company?” I asked, stopping in front of my bedroom door and turning to face her. “Because I’m thinking after a long flight like the one we just got off, you might need someone to wash your back.”
She licked her lips, the slow movement of her pink tongue a form of hypnosis I readily succumbed to. I didn’t hear her answer, but I was soon enough in the bathroom—unsure if I led her in there or vice versa, mind you—and watching Bianca strip.
Her shirt fell to the ground first, followed quickly by the white, lacy bra I’d glimpsed on the plane. After that, I was too distracted by her dark brown nipples, hard, peaked, and begging for my mouth, to realize that she was undoing her pants and letting them, and her knickers, hit the floor.
“Lucas?” Her voice was shaky in a way that said she wanted me, drawing my attention away from her beautiful tits and back to her face.
“Bianca?”
“If you’re going to wash my back, you’re probably going to want to lose the clothes.” Her words, coupled with a sly look down and then back up, was all I needed to get the message.
Get naked. Now.
I obeyed. Of course, I did. Shucking my T-shirt first, I dropped my grey tracksuit pants—sweatpants, I knew the Americans called them—to the floor and kicked them out of the way. Naked and ready, I wrapped a hand around my cock and simply stared at the woman standing in front of me, who was staring right back. I’d never been so turned on in all my life—my dick gr
owing harder in my grip with every passing second. Her eyes blazed like fire and were drinking me in greedily.
I had no doubt my eyes were doing the same.
God, she was sexy. Lithe and lean, her tits sat high on her chest and were a generous handful, while the dark curls that kept her pussy from my gaze were the best kind of tease. They made me want to see more, made me want to touch, while still being a little bit coy, hiding her from me.
“Shit. Pretty girl, you’re perfect.” I released myself and stepped closer with those words, my hands itching to spear into her other curls—the ones on her head—once more. They’d felt soft in my hands when we’d been in that bathroom and I wanted to experience it again. Only this time, I wanted to experience it while her naked body was pressed up against my own.
“Not perfect, not really,” she replied quietly with a little lift of her shoulders. “Nobody’s perfect.”
Not liking the hint of doubt creeping into her words, I stopped and gestured down my body. “Are you sure?” I turned around, giving her a full 360 view of my body, knowing that I was in shape and looked good for it. Also, hoping that by making this moment light, I’d get her to laugh and set that doubt aside.
I could guess why she thought she wasn’t perfect. I was dead certain it had to do with her ex and the way he’d treated her and their marriage, but that didn’t mean I was going to let that asshat interrupt my time with my girl.
Yeah, my girl. She definitely was that.
As I’d hoped, she giggled and when I faced her again, she was smiling widely. “Okay, maybe, maybe I could be convinced that you’re perfect. Or that your body is at least.”
I shrugged like it was no big deal. But then, because I wanted her, and I wanted her comfortable and feeling beautiful and in the moment with me, I lifted a hand to her cheek and leaned in. “You are perfect. I’ll convince you of that soon enough, pretty girl.”
3
Bianca
I hesitated before answering him, though he hadn’t actually asked a question. “I’d like to see you try.”
His eyes turned intense and burning hot, and I swear to god, it was like he’d set my insides alight. He didn’t have to say what he was thinking—it was written in the possessive way he gripped my hips and pulled me forward, his thick, hard cock pressing into my belly. Seeing his hand wrapped around it had almost sent me into a tailspin, and now it was between us, I could feel the heat of it for myself.
Biting my lip, I wrapped my arms around him, fascinated by how comfortable I felt even though I was so turned on I could barely think past the throbbing between my legs. We weren’t even in the shower yet, but I was wet.
You know exactly the kind of wet I’m talking about, right?
“I want to wash this hair,” Lucas remarked, almost out of nowhere. Except that he’d proven already that he was singularly fascinated by my riotous curls. “Can I?”
Clawing my hands so I could scratch them along his sides as I withdrew them from his waist, I nodded. Except . . . “I, ah, would need to get my hair stuff from my bag if that’s what’s about to happen here.”
“I have shampoo.” He cocked his head, clearly puzzled. “We can just use that.”
“Nope.” I reached a finger up to his lips to silence his protest. “My hair isn’t like your hair, Luc. I need a certain type of shampoo. It’s not so simple as just using any old thing.” I shrugged, trying to play off the fact that this was a common problem I encountered. Hotels, friend’s houses, everywhere—they rarely, if ever, accommodated for the fact that some hair required special care. It was annoyingly unfair and fucking stupid, but also something I was sadly used to.
He nodded, losing the confused look on his face and turning toward the shower to get the water started. “How about I get started without you?” He looked over his shoulder at me, then stepped into the spray, turning again so that I could see him.
His hand was once more wrapped around his dick, slowly stroking, up and down, up and down. It was mesmerizing, the way his fist moved on his flesh, the way the skin over his knuckles stretched, implying that he wasn’t being gentle.
He held himself in a firm grip and fuck, I wanted to do the same.
“As long as it’s just a start and not an ending, that’s fine with me,” I replied, shrugging like my eyes weren’t locked on his every move. Reaching up, I touched my hair, testing my curls as they frizzed about my head. I didn’t want to over wash them, right? That was as dangerous as washing them too infrequently, surely? And I could totally keep them out of the water to stave off hair-related disaster.
“I think I’m going to picture my hands in your hair, the feel of your mouth on me, the walls of that bathroom so close it was nearly impossible to move, every single time I get myself off from now on. Unless you want to give me something else to picture, pretty girl?” His eyebrow lifted at the same time the corner of his mouth did, giving him a wholly sinful smirk that made me take a step forward.
But I didn’t enter the shower. Not right away.
Not when I had the chance to hear more of Lucas’ fantasies.
“What else do you want to picture?” I asked, bringing a hand to rest on the side of my neck for the sole purpose of running it down the column, to the center of my collarbones, and then between my breasts. Which was exactly where Lucas’ eyes were locked.
“Pinch your nipples for me. One, then the other.”
I did as directed, sliding my hand to my right breast first and circling my hardened nipple with my finger, before grasping it between my fore and middle fingers and pinching. I felt my eyes roll up into my head—an involuntary reaction to the sensation pinging its way through my body.
“The other one.”
Nodding, I pulled my fingers off the little bud and walked them across my chest, adding a little playfulness to this hot, heavy moment. Again, I circled the tight peak before plucking at it, pinching it.
But I didn’t stop. I lifted my finger to my mouth and, poking my tongue out just enough, licked my finger before bringing it back to my breast and repeating the action. It left a glistening line on my skin, and I could feel Lucas’ gaze like a laser.
It was focused on me. On the finger that was caressing my nipple and making my muscles flex and relax—the pleasure, the pain, the wickedly sensual sensation arousing me more and more.
“Get in here.” His voice cracked with demand, and I took another step forward.
“But . . .” I started, a weak protest that I still needed to get things from my bag.
“Pretty girl, this isn’t that kind of shower anymore. Get your fine ass in here with me, so I can play with you. I won’t ask again.”
I won’t ask again. Jesus, that was sexy—the way he said it like he wouldn’t hesitate to wrap his big hands around my waist and lift me into the steamy, steady stream of water with him. I should’ve protested but I wasn’t about to say no to him.
To be clear, if I wasn’t down for it, I’d have made it very known. But I was; my hesitation being that I almost wanted to defy him, so he’d be forced to act on his implied threat.
In fact . . . I pinched my left nipple one more time before dragging my index finger—only my index finger—down over the curve of my breast and toward my belly button.
“What will you do to me, Luc? If I don’t get into that shower with you?” I played coy, but I knew. I just wanted to hear it. Wanted to let his dirty words wash over me like the spray currently beating down on his perfect form.
He was wet, still touching himself and staring at me like I held all the answers.
I’d never, never felt so wanted by anyone and it was going to my head.
And clit, if the way it throbbed in aching need was any indication.
I circled my belly button, then trailed my finger lower. “Will you drag me in there?”
The muscle in his jaw jumped, his bicep flexing with each slow, firm stroke of his dick. He was fighting something—holding something back. And I didn’t want that.<
br />
I wanted him—the dirty-talking, panty-melting (if I’d been wearing panties, that is), god of a man that looked like he was half a heartbeat away from lifting me up like I weighed nothing and shoving his cock inside me.
“Yes, I fucking will drag you in here. Is that what you’re waiting for?” He released himself, a stab of regret piercing my arousal, before his hands cupping my waist redirected my attention. “I said get in here, and I meant it. You’ve been teasing me for hours now.”
I blinked, a picture of innocence, knowing he was right. And also knowing that he was as much of a tease. He’d known that touching himself in front of me would make it—pardon the pun—hard for me to walk out of the bathroom without first getting what I wanted and needed.
Him.
He used his hold on me, his strength, to bring me forward, my toes barely touching the ground as he moved me in front of him. Reaching behind me, he closed the shower door, his hand resting on my back then sliding down to my ass a heartbeat later. “That’s better. Now I can touch you.”
A whisper. That’s all it was. His words in my ear, his voice low and urgent and blanketed in desire. He wasn’t playing around—not with the truth, not in this moment. He wanted me badly enough to take me.
Except the reverent way his one hand lifted to cup my cheek told me that if I’d shown him any hesitation, he’d have stopped. It was just a feeling I had, and it was a feeling that was confirmed by his next words. “Can I touch you now?”
“Yes.” The affirmation burst from my mouth before I could even give it thought, not that I needed to. “Please, yes.”
The hand on my ass inched lower, lower, until it was between my legs, encouraging them to give him access to my pussy. I gave it without delay, stepping my feet out to ease his way closer. “Do I get to touch you too?” I asked, my voice lilting up when he sank a finger into me from behind.