by Zoe York
Her shower was built for one, so round two was a lot of kissing and touching and being pressed against the wall. Kerry sank to her knees and brought him back to full strength immediately. Once the stars cleared from his eyes, he eased his fingers into her and she rode his hand.
“I don’t want you to be sore,” he whispered as he pumped into her slowly.
“Worth it,” she murmured back.
When she came for the third time, he watched her right up close, savouring the way her lips trembled and her throat worked on her wordless gasps.
He called her beautiful and meant it in the deepest way possible.
But once they climbed out of the shower, he couldn’t ignore the time on the clock—not when Kerry glanced at it, not when his internal Dad alarm went off, either. He dried her carefully with a towel as he sat on the edge of her bed.
“This was amazing.” She kissed him, soft and lingering, before swaying to her closet and pulling on a t-shirt that barely covered anything. He wanted to drag her back into bed.
But she was getting dressed, a clear sign he had to go. He had to go. He knew that. He had to go for his own reasons, too. He didn’t want to.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly.
She came back and touched her fingers to his mouth, tracing the shape of his lips and sending a shiver down his spine. “That was for both of us. I needed it, too.”
Chapter Sixteen
Kerry woke up before dawn, thinking about the night before. She rolled over in her bed and imagined Owen’s big, warm frame there beside her. She thought about the way he’d kissed her goodnight at the door, at least the tenth kiss between him leaving her bed and actually departing.
He had caught her wrist and kissed the palm of her hand. “I want to see you again. Tomorrow.”
“I have indoor soccer practice,” she’d said regretfully. “And then an early morning the next day. But soon. I want to see you again, too.”
She was positively giddy over him. She was right to say no to a repeat tonight. They needed a little bit of space to absorb how good it had been, and then they would hook-up again on the weekend. Or early next week.
Grabbing her phone, she sent him a quick good morning message. He replied almost instantly.
Kerry: I woke up thinking about last night.
Owen: I’m thinking about it right now.
Kerry: Really.
Owen: Yeah.
Kerry: Are you alone and thinking about it?
Owen: All by myself in bed.
Kerry: Me, too.
Owen: Thinking about what I want to do next time, too.
She fanned her face, bit her lip, and dove under the covers.
Kerry: Tell me.
Owen: I want to see you strip for me. I want to come over when you’re already naked, too. A hundred different variations of you undressed are racing through my mind.
Kerry: Wow.
Owen: It’s a nice way to get the day going, that’s for sure.
Kerry: I might stay in bed a little longer. Do some thinking of my own.
Owen: That’s so hot. I want you to show me what that’s like when I see you next.
What had she been thinking, they needed a little bit of space? Bonkers talk. And Owen was filthy. Did he know how dirty he was being right now?
Kerry: Hard to text and … think at the same time.
Owen: You’re killing me. Go … think. Have a beautiful start to the day.
She did just that, and afterward, as her hand lingered between her legs, she looked up at the ceiling and wondered just what sort of affair she might be getting into with this man. A wonderful one, she knew that already. But what other surprises lay beneath the surface of Owen Kincaid?
That question bounced joyously in her mind all day. By mid-afternoon, she knew she was going to bail on soccer practice. She texted Lore with an excuse, then messaged Owen.
Kerry: I’ve made myself available tonight, if your inquiry as to my company still stands.
Owen: LOL. It stands all right. I can be there at seven.
She flew through the rest of her clinic work, and once the space was locked up for the night, she danced her way upstairs and into a hot shower. She shaved, and pampered her skin, and then thought about Owen’s fantasy. A hundred different variations of her undressed. She could deliver at least one of them tonight.
When he knocked, she raced to the door. The grin on his face and the knowing, heated look in his eyes as he took the fact that she was wearing a barely-buttoned shirt over her bra and panties—and nothing else—made her feel very good about her decision to invite him over. “I thought you had soccer practice,” he said as he stepped inside.
She shrugged. “I told them I had a big work project and I had to take a rain-check.”
“A big work project?”
“We work together.” She paused a beat. “And you’re—”
His mouth crashed against hers as he hauled her into his arms. The kiss was wild, all restraint lost as she climbed into his embrace, as he pushed her against the wall. As his hands—those hands, oh, she loved them so much, his strong fingers, yes—slid under the fabric of her shirt and up her back.
He had her bra undone before their first kiss broke apart. Her shirt slid to the floor as he tasted her a second time, and by their third kiss, he had one of those beautiful hands in her panties, cupping her pussy.
She really loved his fingers. Heat made her head swim as he stroked her, featherlight and teasing at first, then more deliberate. Getting her ready to be fucked, because they both knew what this was.
“Are you sore from yesterday?”
She smiled as she shook her head. Not at all.
He pulled a condom from his back pocket, and she laughed out loud. It was on the edge of hysterical, but she didn’t care how she sounded. Owen could know how much she wanted him. That was okay.
She pulled at his shirt, and he got the clue. He peeled it off as she worked on his belt then unbuttoned his jeans. She worked her fingers into his boxers so she could wrap her hand around his heavy, warm length.
“I needed you all day,” she admitted, her pulse pounding. They needed to lose the rest of their clothes and maybe find a flat surface. The floor would do. They’d made it all the way to her bed the first time, they didn’t need to pretend to be polite anymore.
He worked one finger into her as she stroked him, then he added another. “I want you,” he whispered. “Right here. Is that okay?”
What kind of a question was that? “Uh huh.”
He yanked her panties down her hips, and she let go of him to help. By the time the scrap of cotton was on the floor, he had the condom rolled on and was looming over her.
She shivered as he reached for her, as he cupped her face and kissed her with bruising intensity. She shook as he wrapped his arm around her hips and hoisted her into the air, up against the wall.
“Owen,” she gasped, his name a plea and a question wrapped into one. So by right here, he meant literally, against the wall.
Oh, yes.
“I’ve never done this,” he growled. “Hold on tight.”
If he hadn’t said that, she wouldn’t have known. He was strong and sure as he found her slick and ready for him. He notched his cock against her entrance, then pushed in, finding space inside her body that hadn’t existed a moment before. Not enough space, of course. He was big and needed to work his way in, but he did that as he held her against the wall. Sure, even thrusts, his thighs working beneath them to make her gasp over and over again.
She clung to him—her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist—but she didn’t need to. He had her. She held on tight for other reasons. Because he hadn’t done this before, because it was a gift how much he wanted to take her right here inside her door, up against the wall.
Because it had never been this good, this raw, with anyone else. He did things to her she couldn’t even properly name.
She closed her eyes and rode him like the
worked-up bull he was. Her fiery, fierce man, all pent up and needy. She didn’t usually orgasm from penetration alone, but the mind was a powerful aphrodisiac, and that image—of need, of Owen being so much bigger than her, the way he was holding her against the wall, the desperation of right here—propelled her toward a climax with shocking ease. The coil tightened and her clit throbbed, getting harder and more sensitive each time Owen bottomed out, the push of his body amping up the sensations triggered by the thick drag of his cock inside her.
How many ways could she make this happen? What magic words could she text to him and he would just appear for her, hard and ready to bury himself in her body? I’ve been touching myself, I’m wet already. The door’s unlocked, let yourself in and see if you can find me. It could be a gloriously playful winter ahead of them.
What else hadn’t he done?
His mouth opened against her neck, his lips silently whispering her name. Kerry. She felt it as much as heard it. Breathing his name back, she let her mind fracture into pieces of desire. His cock inside her. Her need. Fantasies. The hard grip of his hands. Secrets. Falling, spiralling. The heaviness of her breasts against his chest, the way his mouth had felt there the night before. Owen’s head between her legs.
With a cry, she came, her climax surprising her even though it had been right there already. Owen followed with a guttural cry, his body tensing up as he pinned her against the wall. He twitched deep in her belly, and her clit spasmed again in response.
Right there, up against the wall.
She closed her eyes and dragged in one breath, then another. Holy shit.
Owen’s arms shook as he braced her against the wall. He pulled out, then set her down. He exhaled roughly and braced his forearm next to her head, then gave her a bashful look. “That was fun. Sorry I didn’t buy you dinner first.”
She giggled. “I wanted this first. But I was going to make myself a sandwich. Do you want to join me?”
He tugged up his jeans. “Let me get cleaned up and then I’ll help you make them.”
The third time they had sex it was another booty call, this one in the late afternoon. “I swear to God, I want to take you on another date,” he said as she let him into her apartment.
“Two busy schedules.” She shrugged. “Take off your clothes, I want to see you touch yourself.”
“I am the luckiest man in the world.”
Forty-five minutes later, as Owen lifted his head triumphantly from between her thighs, Kerry was pretty sure she was the lucky one. He’d given her the show she wanted, then gave her a bonus second orgasm for being such a good masturbation buddy.
Kerry had never had so much fun in a single week. Dates could come in time, as their schedules allowed. She was happy they could squeeze in this time together wherever it fit.
Owen sprawled back in her bed, the sheet tangled loosely over his legs, Kerry tangled over the rest of him. Her hair was spread over his shoulder as she rested her cheek on his chest. Her fingers traced up and down the landscape of his torso.
“Tell me something fun,” she murmured. “Something else you want to do.”
“What?”
“You said, uh…” She squirmed around so she could look up at him. Her mouth curved into a joyful smile. “Right before you came, you said, ‘Cross that off my list.’”
“I did not.” Owen frowned. “Did I?”
“Oh yeah. You growled it, right at the peak of abandon.” She winked at him.
“What is that wink for?” He laughed. “Peak of abandon.” Then his eyes went wide. “The Lady Loves a Necromancer. You read the book.”
“Of course I did,” she said brightly. Then she slid her hand lower down his belly, making him shiver. “Anyway, back to the topic at hand. What is this list, and what else can we cross off it?”
He shuddered as her fingers skated down the sensitive crease between his leg and his balls. “You’re not a bucket list score.”
She paused. “I wouldn’t mind. I take that as a compliment.”
He caught her wrist and flipped her onto her back, dragging her hand up the bed so her arm was safely where he could see it—and also revealing all of her delicate spots for him to reciprocate the intimate teases. She squirmed, and he let go. “Stop distracting me, and I’ll tell you. It’s not a sex list.”
“Ooh.” She was so intrigued. “But you do have a list?”
“Sort of. It was more of a general plan than a list. I, uh, called it my Great Bachelor Plan. For life once Becca moved out, but then that didn’t happen. Wild, happy sex was on it. What we’ve been doing definitely qualifies. But that was the only sex thing on it, I swear.”
“It’s okay, I have a sex list.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You do?”
She laughed. “Of course. I kind of thought everyone who likes sex did.”
“I don’t.”
“Do you maybe a little, and you put other stuff on it to cover up what a filthy, dirty, amazing romp in the sheets you are?”
He groaned. “No. Although…amazing?”
“Truly exceptional.”
“Wow.”
She poked his chest with her finger. “What else was on it?”
“Tell me one of your things, first.”
She thought about it. Something on her x-rated wish list. “I’ve never been skinny dipping. And if there was a way to safely have sex in public, but not actually risk violating someone else’s right to not see me have sex…” She laughed. “That kind of ruins it as a point on the list, but I can’t help it.”
He tangled his fingers in her hair and gave a gentle tug. “Never apologize for being thoughtful.”
“It wasn’t an apology,” she pointed out, sticking out her tongue. “There, I gave you two.”
“You’ve never been skinny dipping?”
“Nope.”
“The lake’s too cold now, but if you’re still speaking to me next summer…” He trailed off.
She bit her lip. Next summer was a long way off.
“Never mind,” he said.
“No.” She pushed herself up to sit. “It’s okay. Should we talk about…whatever this is? I mean, are we…are you…do you…”
He joined her in sitting, and set his hands on her upper arms. “I’m good. I’m happy just being with you. But if you want to talk about…”
She laughed. “Neither of us can say the sentence out loud. That’s probably a sign that we’re both focused on the here and now, right?”
“Right.”
“Can we make a deal?” She straightened her spine and tried her best to look serious, and not nervous, but they were both naked and they’d tripped into a Relationship Talk far too soon into their fling. “I want to know more about your Great Bachelor Plan, and I think we can talk about my wish list, too, and we agree that everything could happen on a hypothetical timeline separate from however long we’re sleeping together.”
He held out his hand. “Deal.”
She slid her fingers over his and shook. “Skinny dipping next summer. That’s my share.”
“I’ve never unplugged for an entire weekend. No pager, no phone, no kid responsibilities. Maybe camping or a trip to the city, but phone off.”
His was so wholesome compared to hers. And also something he should have been able to have already. “You’ve never done that?”
“No. Time away from Becca was time for work.”
“Vacation?”
“Becca time.”
“Oh, wow.” She pumped her arm. “Let’s make that happen for you. What else?”
He grinned. “I want to smoke a joint.”
She giggled. “Good. I was worried your list was too wholesome for me to handle.”
“Have you ever?”
“Oh yeah. College. Whew. But not in many years.” She thought about her list. “All of mine are variations on the exhibitionism theme. I want to record myself having sex, but I don’t want that video out there, ever. You know?”
He no
dded solemnly. “Masks.”
“What?”
“Masks are the obvious solution there. I’m game.”
“You are not.”
He shrugged. “Sure. You use a burner phone, not hooked up to the cloud in any way, put the masks on before you start recording, and wear clothing over anything identifying.”
“Like your tattoos.” She blinked at him. “This plan sounds like it’s been tested.”
He shook his head. “Not by me. But some of the shit I hear about at work lands and I file it away. Just in case.” He cleared his throat. “A lot of my list is big boy toys. Don’t judge me.”
“I would never. Like what?”
“A home gym. As long as I’ve been an adult, every room in my house has been filled with growing people. One day, they’ll finally be gone, and I want to have a room that’s nothing but weights and a treadmill, and I don’t have to workout with young guys who drop weights with horrible clanging sounds that make me think they’re breaking my building.”
She giggled. “You work out at the station now?”
“Yeah.”
“Sounds horrible,” she said solemnly.
“I warned you my list is selfish.”
“It’s not.”
“I haven’t even gotten to the truly extravagant stuff yet. Like, I sort of want to buy a four-wheeler.”
A place to pump iron in peace and quiet. A giant machine to ride around. Really good sex, a weekend to himself. It was the wish list of a college kid, looking forward to the independence a full-time job would bring him. Almost two decades delayed, and now delayed again. Kerry’s heart ached for that kid, this man, who still worried he shouldn’t want anything fun in his life. “That’s amazing,” she said softly. “That sounds like a really good time.”
“I want to clarify, that the wild, happy sex on my list was specifically, a weekend spent naked with a woman. So we haven’t done that yet.”
“Not yet.” She kissed him. “But we will.”
From her bedside table, his phone vibrated. He sighed. “Real life calls. Would you grab that for me?”