by G. K. Brady
She coaxed his belt open and began unzipping his fly slowly, slowly. His body and mind fused and collapsed on one narrow pinpoint of focus: to be inside her. In one movement, he sat up, hauled her level with him, and flipped her on her back. Her eyes were wide with surprise as his mouth crashed down on hers, taking it hard. Then his fingers were making short work of her buttons, laying her top open so at last her hot skin slid against his.
So fucking good.
Breaking a messy kiss, she wriggled out of her top. Before she was done and had a chance to lie back down, need and hunger overwhelmed him and his mouth latched on to a nipple, his tongue teasing it into a tight little bead. One arm behind her with her hand planted on the mattress, she arched her back, pressing his mouth closer with her free hand.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God. Feels so good,” she hissed, her back sinking slowly into the mattress.
His cue to keep going. While he explored one breast with his mouth, his hand did the same with the other one and then switched. And again. He nibbled and tugged, massaged and stroked, nipped and suckled, adjusting his touch as she told him with her body what she wanted. He was burning up from wanting to be inside her, but this was about learning what gave her pleasure before taking his own.
His hand slid down over her flat belly and slipped under her waistband. When he sank a finger inside her, her warm wetness made him want to pound his chest. He’d done that to her. Her hips lifted off the mattress, surprising him, and he pushed her down gently and added a second finger. She rocked against his hand, little moans and incoherent sounds coming from her. He dared a look, enthralled by what he saw: her mouth open, eyes closed, head turning from side to side, a blissful frown on her face. As he manipulated his fingers, his mouth continued working on her breasts. She bit down on her bottom lip. Her hands gripped the quilt, and she bucked beneath him.
Fuck, she was driving him out of his mind by not holding back, by showing him he was driving her out of hers. And then her body seized, and she came hard on his fingers, clutching them. Her lips were moving, something that sounded like “Dave” escaping as she fought for breath. He felt like a fucking god!
With gentle strokes, he watched her float back down to him. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Her eyes fluttered open. “That was … that was … I’m not sure I have the words.” She smiled at him and spread her arms wide, and he covered her body with his and let himself relax into her embrace. As she held him, he kissed her with a tenderness he’d never felt before—as if she were all his to cherish. Except she wasn’t, and he’d have been wise to not start down this path in the first place, but it was too late. And it wouldn’t come as any surprise to anyone, especially him, that he wasn’t wise.
Chapter 24
Is That a T-Bone or Are You Just Happy to See Me?
Starbursts danced behind Ellie’s eyes. Drifting back down from the stratosphere where Dave had sent her, the comforting weight of his heavy body sinking atop her was a different sort of heaven she’d never known. She was oh-so safe here, and she didn’t want to ever leave the security of his warm hold. He was trailing moist, soft kisses along her neck, brushing the tip of his nose against her jaw, pressing his lips against her eyelids, her hair. The tenderness was a contradiction, a polar opposite to his frighteningly imposing, growly self, and something inside her soared with the knowledge he trusted her with this surprisingly softer side.
As awareness of her surroundings took hold, she realized his belt buckle was digging into her hip. Below that, and equally hard, his length nestled between her legs. She shifted beneath him, and he rose up on his forearms, letting cool air rush into the gap between them.
His eyes mined hers. “I must be crushing you,” he murmured.
“No, it’s just that your belt buckle is—”
“Oh shit! Sorry.” He adjusted his weight and slid beside her, ending up chest down, eyes still locked on hers, his big hand cradling one side of her face.
She followed after, chasing his warmth, molding herself to his side. “No, you’re fine.” Her fingers traced the hard planes of his shoulders and ran down the channel of his forever spine. Smooth skin over hard muscle invited her to explore, making him twitch, puckering his skin into goose bumps. “But maybe if you lost the buckle …”
One side of his mouth hitched up. “Is this your subtle way of asking me to take off my pants?”
She scooted lower until her fingers finally found his waistband, and she tugged at the belt trapped by the loops of his jeans. “Nothing subtle about it.”
He flipped onto his back and sat up, never taking his eyes from hers. “Then let me help you.”
Shy and a little awkward—how long had it been since she’d been naked in front of a man?—she propped her head in her hand and draped her other arm across her bare chest. As he shuffled out of his pants, his boxers got caught and he started to haul them back up.
“No, those can go too.” She bit back a giggle at his exaggerated wide-eyed expression.
His grin broadened, that devilish curve electrifying her body until it practically sizzled. “So bossy.” Now his eyes drifted down her body to her PJ shorts, and he gave her a slow chin lift. “I can help with those too.”
She slid her arm from her chest and hooked a thumb in her bottoms where they hugged her hip. “You mean these?”
His heated gaze scorched a path as it traveled back up to her exposed breasts, and she fought the urge to cover herself again, painfully aware of how inadequate she must look when stacked up against his usual perfect bedmates.
Jeans, belt, and underwear hit the floor with a clink and a thud, and he wasted no time rolling toward her, taking her face in his hands as he took possession of her mouth. Oh Lordy, the man can kiss! She threw her arms around his neck, anchoring herself to him as she lost herself in the feel of his lips consuming hers, his tongue plundering and plunging deeper. Soft and gentle was nice, but the promise of the beast inside him was firing up every nerve ending in her body. Her pulse took off at a gallop, and her breathing grew more ragged, matching his. She couldn’t contain the desperate mewling noises in her throat.
His rough hand skidded down her side, arrowed under her waistband, pulling her shorts and panties down her legs, adding to the urgency crackling in the air. She raised her hips off the mattress and lifted her knees, and the rest of her clothes slid off her ankles and joined his on the floor. Acres of hot skin slid across hot skin, and she melted against him. So good. Heavy and thick, his solid shaft lay trapped against her pubic bone, jutting up to her navel.
His hands were everywhere at once, so big they covered large swaths of skin, fingers flexing and digging one moment, then exploring and caressing the next. But she was on fire, and it wasn’t enough. God, she wanted him inside her! Emboldened and impatient, she surged into him, and he fell onto his back, taking her with him so she sprawled across him. The tip of his cock prodded her entrance, and she slithered over it shamelessly. She sat up, tenting her fingertips on abs that were warm, chiseled slabs beneath her touch.
Those calloused man hands coasted over her sides, to her breasts, where they cupped and kneaded and teased. Dark with lust, his gaze took a leisurely tour of her body once, twice, before landing back with fascination on his own busy hands making her body sing. “Beautiful,” he whispered.
She rocked against his steely length, oh-so tempted to slide onto it. “Cowboy up,” she teased. “I get to play cowgirl.” Oh my God, who’s is charge of my body and my mouth right now? Evil Ellie.
He cocked an eyebrow, and his lips curved up in a sexy smile. “Yes, ma’am. You’re the boss.”
“Please tell me you brought protection.”
“I brought protection.” His voice was dusky and seemed to roll from deep within his chest. God, he was so damn hot! One hand grasping her thigh, he leaned over the edge of the bed. After some rustling, he tossed a few foil packets on the bed beside them.
Her eyes widened. “Are you using all those at once?”
She’d heard about guys who doubled up, but triple?
He tore open a packet with his teeth. “No, one at a time.” He scooted her back, and his cock sprang forward in its colossal glory. Her eyes grew wider still. As he rolled it on, he shot her a sly look. “I did say I was hopeful.”
“I guess that makes two of us,” she blurted. Ellie! Shut. Up!
With a sexy chuckle, he lay back down and gripped her hips, lifting her so she hovered just above his tip. “All yours, cowgirl.”
She lowered herself slowly, taking first one inch, then another. They both gasped.
Panic rose up inside her. “Am I hurting you?”
He gritted out through clenched teeth, “No way. Just … Fuck, this is good.” His face was a study in fierce concentration, but a smile quirked one corner of his mouth. “But I think you just stole my line.”
She folded over with a laugh, and her hair sprawled over his chest and got stuck in his mouth, making him sputter. “I’m so bad at this,” she moaned. Ellie Hendricks, the great seductress.
He stroked her hair and planted a kiss on her head. “You’re not bad at anything,” he murmured. “And damn, woman, you feel fucking incredible!”
His words spread a different sort of warmth through her, and she brought herself upright and let her body go, taking in all of him, impaling herself until he was seated to the hilt. The feel of his girth stretching her punched her square in the chest, wrenching the air from her lungs, leaving her no breath to gasp out.
Oh my God!
Dave’s eyes locked on hers, filled with blazing intensity that caused her heart to slam harder against her rib cage. She began to move, and his features transformed with a blend of agony and unbridled pleasure. He hissed out an incoherent curse. Fingers digging into her hips, her thighs, he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. Maybe she wasn’t so bad at this after all.
Soon she was lost in the carnal sensations as she rode him, moans and mewls tumbling from her. Dave thrust up into her harder, faster, letting out noisy grunts of his own. In the background, the bed squeaked a telltale rhythm. A vague thought waved through her brain that Great-Grandma and the Aunt Ednas could hear them, but she didn’t care.
With an abruptness that stole what little breath she had, Dave stopped, sat up, and, wrapping his arms around her, kissed her hard. In the blink of an eye, she was on her back and he’d gathered her knees to either side of him. With a flex of his hips, he plunged back inside her. Cowgirl playtime was obviously over and the bronc-busting cowboy was in charge … which sent more tingles rippling through her body. Clutching at his hair, his back, she gave herself over to him, letting him drive the accelerating pace as their heated bodies fused together in one smooth, slick, grinding machine.
And oh dear God, she reveled in it, spiraling upward into the clouds again, where she lost all sense of space and time before her body jolted and shuddered and fractured into infinite fragments even as he drove her into one last time, coming with her in a rocking simultaneous release.
He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, their chests heaving together in synchronized labor. Her hands flitted over his back and shoulders until he captured them and brought them above her head, lacing her fingers with his. As his panting quieted, he sprinkled kisses over the column of her neck. God, it felt so right.
“I should go take care of the condom,” he breathed against her skin. But he lingered, still buried inside her, and she didn’t encourage him to pull out. Finally, he hoisted himself off her and retreated into the bathroom. She ran her hand over her belly and breasts, touching every inch of flushed, sensitive skin. He’d done that to her. The man definitely knew how to treat a woman in bed, how to make her feel like a woman. Better than anyone she’d ever been with, yet she barely knew him.
She flung her arm over her head and tracked him when he emerged from the bathroom. Oh Lordy, was he a sight! Like some rugged model on the cover of a romance novel, only better because he was real and he was hers—at least for tonight—and she was going to enjoy him while she could.
Dave was still reeling when he approached the bed, where the most gorgeous sight in the whole damn world awaited him. Ellie’s hair was fanned across the pillow, one arm folded over the crown of her head, while the other arm rested on her pale stomach. All her mouthwatering curves were exposed, and he couldn’t keep from letting his eyes roam over every single one. She bit her lower lip, looking incredibly self-conscious, and he had to mentally slap himself to stop ogling her. But Jesus Christ! The girl had no idea how fucking beautiful she was, or how much he wanted to stare … and touch … and taste. Or what she’d done to him, how she’d hit every trigger inside him, making him come too soon and in powerful bursts, each stronger than the last as they’d rocked his body. He’d never felt anything like it before.
Fuck! That wasn’t good.
He dropped on the edge of the mattress and looked some more, running his fingertips up her arm and into all that strawberry-blond silk. She giggled.
He couldn’t corral his smile. “Does that tickle?”
“No, it feels good.” She shifted to make room for him, amusement playing over her face and in her big eyes. “I was thinking how you just T-boned me again, but this time I enjoyed it.”
He let out a guffaw. “I’m not sure I’ll ever look at a T-bone the same way.” Damn, she was cute! Too cute. Too beautiful. Too perfect. He should get dressed and run the hell away. She was waking up way too many emotions in him—some he never knew existed before—dangerous emotions he didn’t want awakened. Maybe it was already too late.
Giving in to his want, he lay down beside her and gathered her up in his arms. How else could they fit in this ridiculously tiny bed? The bed’s size hadn’t registered at all, however, when he’d been deep inside her trying to rein in his climax.
His hands drifted down her back, over her ass, her thighs, and back up into her hair again. With a sigh that shot straight to his already rousing cock, she snuggled against him, her breasts heavy and warm against his chest. Fuck, she felt so damn good, and though she must’ve been a foot shorter, she fit him perfectly. Just like he fit her. In every way.
Another giggle escaped her, tickling his chest.
“More T-bone jokes?” he murmured into her hair. She smelled like soap and rain and flowers, and he breathed her in deeply.
“No. This time I was thinking about something the saleslady in the western clothing shop said.”
His “Hmm?” came out in a grunt because the primal sound was suddenly about all he could manage with her pressed against him. Every drop of blood in his body seemed to be rushing south again. Christ, when was the last time he’d gotten it up so soon after sex that intense? Since he couldn’t remember having sex that intense, he pitched the question. No brain power anyway.
Ellie pulled back and grinned at him. He smoothed her hair from her face—the sensation more for him than for her, selfish bastard that he was. “She said you could tell how a man is in bed by how he dances.”
Uh-oh. This can’t be good. Hang on, ego. You’re headed for a fall.
Before he could deflect—or come up with a coherent sentence—she added in a breathy voice that drained his brain of even more blood, “You really do move those hips of yours nicely on the dance floor, so I’d say she hit the nail on the head.”
Something warm and fuzzy bloomed in his stomach and oozed into his chest, filling it. He pulled her closer. “It has everything to do with you. I was inspired.” That’s what he’d call it, rather than what it truly was: that she’d driven him out of his friggin’ mind, and he’d chucked self-control like he’d discarded the rubber wrapper. And he needed to double down if he hoped to wrestle that self-control back.
Chapter 25
Yoda Has Left the Building
Dave doubled down all right. And the evidence was in the trash can up in Ellie’s bathroom, where all three empty condom wrappers had been tossed. If he’d brought a fourth one with him
, it would no doubt be up there too. He’d done a spectacular job blanking out the Yoda voice of reason, partying with Han instead. Han was proud. Dave, not so much. As he ran his eyes longingly over Ellie at breakfast the next morning, he admonished himself for his selfishness. His recklessness. His idiocy. But then his mind U-turned to how perfect she’d felt under him when he’d been buried inside her, beside him as he’d held her close, and suddenly he was hard again and not so sorry anymore.
Christ! He wasn’t a fucking nineteen-year-old, so why was he having so much trouble reining in his libido? His struggle lay in those deep blue eyes, all that soft hair, and that fragrance uniquely hers that washed over him and made him lose his mind and his way. Don’t look at her, don’t touch her, and you’ll be fine. You can do this.
But it was too late. Kissing her last night had crossed the line, and he’d totally fucked up because he’d gone too far. How was he going to cut her loose? Forget if she was on board with sliding back into the friend zone. He wasn’t. But what choice did he have? He’d taken a bite—or three—of the forbidden fruit, which had only made him ravenous for more, and he needed to stop this runaway locomotive now before he got so carried away he couldn’t find his way back, or worse, he hurt her.
They were seated at a huge banquet table, where Ellie and Sonoma chattered with Aunt Viv and Uncle Stan over their eggs and bacon. The pure comfort of the scene reminded him of a Hallmark commercial, and he squirmed because this. This is what he wanted but couldn’t have. In that moment, it struck him that maybe what he’d done in his professional life wasn’t so different because damn if self-control hadn’t been MIA then too.