by Kim Karr
Sitting up all the way, I reach over and open the bedside drawer, pulling out a pack of condoms. “Something to do with these, perhaps?”
His blue eyes dance as they flit from the packets to my face. “About those.”
I gasp when he suddenly moves.
He twists onto his knees in a crouched position, his chin tucked and his gaze peering down at me. Predatory. As if at any second he is going to pounce and wrestle them from me. My breath catches. Tingles speed under the surface of my skin, and my stomach flips in delight. It’s so crazy what only the thought of him touching me does to me.
My hands tighten around the little foil packets. “What about these?”
His hungry eyes roam my face, absorbing my mouth, my lips, and then they move down a little lower, growing even hungrier. “Hand them over, Maggie.”
Looking right into those blazing eyes of his, I squeeze the last of what we have left in my fingers and close them tight. “No way. Let’s discuss the details of the trade first.”
Strength bunches in the muscles rippling along his shoulders as he moves a little closer.
I’m shocked when he abruptly grabs me by the ankles and drags me down to him, forcing me flat on the bed, and I scream out his name. “Keen!”
From my view down here, I am staring up at his gorgeous face as he hovers over me. Playfully, he straddles my waist, and I can’t think. He stares at me and I can’t breathe. I can only feel desire coursing through my veins and I can only hear my heart pounding in my ears.
His nose is an inch from mine, his hands resting on either side of my head, but he is everywhere, all around me, as if he’s become a part of me without me even realizing it.
Then he smirks, all naughty and smug, and my eyes go wide when realization hits me. “Oh my God, Keen Masters, don’t you even think about it.”
Those eyes only grow more devious.
“Don’t you dare,” I beg.
He loves when I beg, but I’m not certain it is going to work this time.
“What?” he asks with feigned innocence, before his fingers begin to tap at the center of my chest.
I writhe beneath him and try to flail my limbs, but his legs cinch around my sides to keep my arms pinned to the bed.
“Hand it over.”
I shake my head no and still refuse to open my hand. Torture or not, I will not let him win. I will not.
His fingers start to move.
Oh my God, I can’t stand it. I’m so ticklish that soon I’m bucking like a wild stallion, trying to throw him from my body. “Keen, stop. Come on, stop. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Saying things like that is certainly not going to stop me.”
“Sorry!” I yell. “Sorry.” I make a hopeless attempt at flailing my arms once again.
Without mercy, he continues to hold me down and tickle me, and then somehow the naughty fiend manages to peel my hand open and take the packets from my grasp.
With his body still pinning me down, he holds the condoms over his head with his one free arm in victory. “You were saying?”
The push and pull.
Hard and soft.
The tease and the taunt.
I love the thrill of it.
A low whine rises from deep within my throat. “That I am certain we can strike a deal.”
A hushed chuckle tumbles from his mouth, so thick it is almost a pant, and then his expression softens as he rolls off me to fall beside me.
“What are you proposing?” I ask as I feel a change in the air.
He looks at me as if mesmerized. Suddenly, I’m mesmerized too, and I watch him. Watch everything. The way his tongue flicks out to wet his full lips. The way his eyes seem to be assessing me. That same nervous twitch in his hand I have seen before. I am so hyperaware of every inch of his body and the way it moves that I swear even his chest is rising and falling in perfect sync with mine.
Raising a cautious hand, he crumples the condom packets. “We haven’t talked about this, but I haven’t been with anyone but you since New Year’s.”
A fragmented sigh stutters from my lips as they part. Never have I felt anything better than being with him and never once since him did I consider being with another. And the fact that he hasn’t been with another woman—I can’t even tell you how that makes me feel. “Neither have I,” I respond.
His gaze captures mine before he reaches with his empty hand to push my hair away. “I’m clean.”
“Me too.” I swallow, knowing exactly where he’s going. “And I’m on the pill.”
He drags his fingertips down my cheek, sweeping along my jaw and tracing my lips, while raising his other hand. “Then we don’t need these,” he murmurs, the words rough, absolute.
“No, we don’t,” I whisper against the fingers he is fluttering along my bottom lip.
“Come here,” he says, tossing the condoms to the ground. “I want to kiss you. I want to fuck you. I want to do so much more.”
“I’m right here,” I tease. “Go ahead and have your wicked way with me, but be quick about it—we have to leave soon to catch our plane.”
“We’ll catch a later flight.”
“No, we won’t.”
Grabbing me by the hair, he slams his mouth to mine.
“Maggie.” He licks. “Maggie.” He sucks. “Maggie.” He blows hot breath against my skin. “What am I going to do with all this teasing of yours?”
Whimpering as our bodies grind together, I run my hands up his face and slip my fingers into his soft, thick hair to tug on it.
His groan is loud.
I hear myself whisper against his jaw. “I already told you: whatever you want, as long as we don’t miss the flight.”
His body trembles with unleashed power. “Say that first part again.”
“Whatever you want.”
His lips curve up into a smile. “Get up on your knees and elbows.”
As a self-proclaimed sexpot, he knows I’ve done just about everything under the sun. He also knows the one thing I have not. And yet I trust him. In fact, I want him to take every part of me, fuck every part of me with his beautiful cock, his talented fingers, and that lethal tongue of his. So without hesitation, I get up on my hands and knees knowing exactly what he’s going to do. And honestly, I’m equal parts nervous and thrilled.
He slips his fingers over my pussy, dragging the moisture up. “Oh fuck, you’re already so wet.”
I turn back to catch his gaze. “I always am when you touch me.”
“Oh, God, Maggie, feel what you do to me.” He rubs the head of his huge erection between my cheeks over and over.
And God help me, I call out, the feeling of his pulsing cock already so good.
Soon, he’s all I can feel everywhere. Dragging his cock from my pussy upward, circling the puckered area, rubbing his tip right there, driving me crazy.
Sensation overload strikes hard and I find myself quivering from head to toe.
“Keen,” I moan. The anticipation is killing me, the feel of him so close, but so far.
So possessively, he strokes a hand down my back and then around to my clit. His other hand is on his cock and he continues to tease me right there. “You sure about this?” he asks.
“Yes!” I cry out. “Yes.”
It’s only then that he finally reaches over to the night table. I hear a tear of the condom.
“I thought you said no more condoms?”
“Oh, baby, you have so much to learn.”
Normally, I’d be insulted. Sex has never been anything I needed a lesson on, but this…I admit, I only know what I’ve read, so I say nothing, just wait in anticipation while he rolls the condom on and reaches for the tube of lube we purchased yesterday.
Yes, we’ve discussed doing this over and over for the past three nights. Him wondering if I’m ready. Me telling him very confidently that I absolutely am, when in fact, I’m a little nervous.
It happens so fast—opening the tube, applying the lube, tos
sing the condom wrapper and the tube aside. And then he’s back, and he’s sweeping a hand up to one of my breasts, pinching the sensitive tip of my nipple, while his other hand works my clit. Arrows of pleasure go straight through me, all the way to the place his cocking is waiting to penetrate.
“Do it, Keen,” I gasp.
His answering murmur is followed by the movement of his hand from my breast back to his cock. A quick drag across my pussy one more time to assure we’re both wet enough and then he presses his thumb into me, something he’s done a few times over the past couple of days.
The anticipation is too much for me to wait any longer. “Keen, please,” I call out.
And then…and then…he does. His long, thick cock is pushing into me, and I can feel it, and it does in fact hurt a little bit, just like I’d read.
“Push back against me,” he murmurs.
I do.
“Oh fuck, that’s it, Maggie, that’s it.”
And that is it. Oh my God. His hand is on my clit. His cock right where I want it to be. “Oh my God, Keen!” I scream and scream and scream as he stretches me. It should be painful, and yet the pleasure is far too great.
His teeth scrape over my shoulder, up the nape of my neck, to my shoulder. Biting and sucking, groaning and hissing, this is the most primal act I have ever participated in, and never have I felt this way.
I need more.
Want more.
And as if he can read my mind, he grabs my hips and eases back, and then slowly thrusting inside me, he starts up a slow, steady rhythm.
Unable to stand the slow pace, I’m completely unraveling. I push my body back, trying to increase the pace. Slow and steady is not what I want. Hard and fast. Please give me hard and fast.
Refusing to increase his pace, his gentle manner is pissing me off.
I need more.
Want more.
“Please, Keen. Move. Harder. Faster!” I cry out.
And then finally he does. Keen pumps into me, hard and fast, and his hand reaches around my front again to stroke my clit. It doesn’t take much to get me off now. His fingertips roll my clit in time to his thrusts, and my pleasure is a spring coiling tight.
Oh God.
His teeth on my shoulder.
His fingers on my clit.
His cock is right where we’ve both talked about it being.
And then it’s like a bright light blinds me and I have to squeeze my eyes shut. I’m coming with a cry like that of a warrior going out to battle.
Hard and fast.
All-consuming.
Like nothing exists in this world but a brightness I can’t quite name.
And I’m climbing higher and higher and higher still.
My orgasm is brutal. It breaks me open and puts me back together, and I’m left panting, and blinking away stars.
When my body stills, Keen pulls completely out of me and flips me over, yanking me by the ankles to the edge of the bed.
“What are you doing?” I pant.
I see him yanking off his condom, but it’s a blur as to what he does with it because before I know it, he’s bare and his big, callused hands are spreading my thighs wide and he’s thrusting his cock into my pussy. His cock filling me in a way it never could in the other place. “I need to feel you like this. And I want to see you when you come.”
I lean back on the bed and thrust my hips forward. “And you call me crazy.”
He grins in that wicked way of his and holds tightly onto my thighs as he thrusts into me at the most relentless pace.
I keep up in time with him.
His voice is hoarse. “Jesus, Maggie.”
In.
Out.
Faster.
Faster still.
I keep my eyes open and stare at that body of his that just begs to be fucked—all smooth muscles and perfect proportions.
When I know I’m going to come again, when I know by his face he is going to come, I lean forward and hold onto his biceps for support.
His muscles are trembling, and it gives me a little thrill to know that I am doing this to him. That I’m making him fall apart.
While I’m watching him, a second wave of orgasm strikes so unexpectedly and everything about me draws tighter. Suddenly my clit is tingling again and just like that I start to fall back into oblivion.
This time, though, I don’t close my eyes; instead I force myself to keep my eyes locked on his. I watch as his thrusts start to slow and then he grunts, and soon his come face is telling me he’s right where I am.
And together we find that sweet release.
Gently, I kiss him on the mouth and wrap my arms around him, clutching his shoulders with my nails digging into his skin as we do…hard enough to draw blood.
Hard and soft.
Hard and soft.
That is our way.
34
A PLACE IN THIS WORLD
Maggie
The sound of crackling asparagus is enough to make my mouth water, but the aroma curling up from the grill is really what makes my toes curl.
With my arms crossed, I watch Cam with his apron on. Keen bought it for him just for this occasion. On the front is the body of a bikini-clad woman and every time Cam moves his arms to flip the large marinated mushrooms, her boobs push together.
Brooklyn has been dying of laughter for the past ten minutes.
It’s Friday, and Keen and I waited until now to tell everyone about the two of us because I had been sick all week. I blamed Keen for the no-panties thing last week, and trust me, even the cough and antibiotics have been well worth the pleasure I’ve gotten out of milking my illness.
The soup runs.
The special favors.
And having control.
Lots of control.
Who ever thought being sick could be so much fun?
The laughing has ceased now, though, and everyone is staring at Keen and me as we share a kiss after telling our friends and family we hooked up on New Year’s Eve and that we are together.
Keen was in charge of the music for the party, and Elvis croons about his blue suede shoes while Keen holds onto me and continues to plaster his mouth to mine. See, no hard rock. He is capable of compromise. Who would have thought? Oh, and obviously you already know that he’s such an amazing kisser, but between the sheets is really where his skills excel.
Shhh…don’t tell him I said that—I don’t want him to get a bigger head or anything.
When I pull away, as usual I’m breathless, but much to my surprise so are my friends. I might refuse to label this thing between Keen and me any more than boyfriend and girlfriend, but looking around at the faces of my best friends, I think they are labeling it for us.
“Ho-lee shit. I knew it.” This is the first response given by Cam as he starts to slide the food off the grill and onto the platters beside him.
“No you didn’t, man,” Keen laughs, taking a step forward to uncork the wine bottles.
“Fuck you I didn’t. I saw the way you were looking at her the morning I caught you two getting it on in the kitchen.”
“We were not getting it on in my kitchen,” I say indignantly.
“Right.” Cam winks.
Makayla sets the salad bowl down and whirls around to glare at Cam. “What do you mean when you caught them?”
Sheepishly he says, “Right, I forgot to mention that, but talk to your BFF over there. She’s the one that has been so close-lipped.”
I get busy setting the plates down and when I catch her eye, I mouth, “I’m sorry.”
Makayla narrows her eyes at me. “It was his clothes I saw on New Year’s, wasn’t it?”
I nod. “Are you mad?”
She shakes her head no, and then whispers, “I’m so happy for you. It’s your turn for the fairy tale.”
“Please,” I say, “you know I don’t believe in that crap.”
All she does is nod her head. “You don’t have to, Maggie, but it’s yours and it�
�s happening. I can practically see your happily-ever-after right now.”
“Stop.”
She winks at me. “And I want all the details, and I mean all…later, not in front of these buffoons.”
Just then Cam comes up behind her and swipes his tongue right up her cheek.
“You’re a real prince,” I mutter, stuck on the fairy-tale theme Makayla has so unkindly put into my head.
“Gross!” Brooklyn shouts, drawing my attention. “I really can’t take this. I’m surrounded by love.”
Love?
No.
It couldn’t be.
Cam and Makayla, yes, but Keen and I?
No.
Lust.
Yes, lust.
But that’s all.
Setting his beer down, Brooklyn looks around at each of us, rubbing his hand against the back of his head. “And here I thought Maggie had a thing for me. Talk about a case of wrong brother.”
“Wait, what?” My jaw falls open. “What did you say?”
Keen clears his throat. “Yeah, it was pretty funny that each of you thought you were crushing on each other.”
Brooklyn and I both glare at Keen and then look at each other and laugh. “You thought I liked you?” we both say at the same time.
Meanwhile Keen, the master at avoiding scrutiny, has busied himself pouring wine in all the glasses, but Cam isn’t letting it go that easily. He’s beside him in a heartbeat and has him in a choke hold. And then in the next moment, he’s rambling about guy code and what should and shouldn’t be kept from each other.
I swear they are worse than girls.
Brooklyn joins in, and the three of them are causing utter chaos right here on my outdoor patio with a fire roaring and lights twinkling above us.
Makayla, always the peacekeeper, sets the last of the food on the outdoor table that Keen and I fought about just a mere two weeks ago. “Time to eat,” she announces, loud enough that everyone stops and looks at her.
I have to laugh.
All is good in love and war.
Isn’t that what they say?
35
HOLY GROUND
Keen