by Cathryn Fox
I exhale, my nails digging into the carpet as he lifts my hips higher, feeding his mouth with my sex. The way he’s devouring me is delicious and dirty, so damn pleasurable small pulses begin in my core. He pulls his finger out, then slides two back in, touching me deeper, using smooth steady thrusts that push me over. He strokes along my walls, teases my G-spot. I cup my breasts, run my fingers over my quivering nipples as he expertly wrings an orgasm out of me.
“That’s it,” he murmurs from deep between my legs. “Come all over my mouth and fingers.”
I pulse and clench around him, blindsided by the intense pleasure now ruling my body. He laps at me, drawing out the waves, as I come and come and come some more. I’m a hot trembling mess by the time my body stops spasming. He licks at me and moans, like he’s savoring every drop. I’ve never had a man taste me so deeply, or like what he’s doing so much.
“Tate,” I manage to get out.
He climbs up my body, and his wet mouth glistens in the firelight. The sight does something strange to me, arouses me all over again. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“You taste so fucking good,” he says. “I could eat you all day.”
“Come here.” I drag his mouth to mine, and taste myself on his tongue. I’ve never done that before, but tonight I want to do everything with this man. “Mmm,” I moan.
“Like marshmallow,” he teases, but his voice is strained, his body in desperate need of release.
I smile, pushing his hair from his face. “I want you to fuck me, Tate.”
His eyes turn dark, predatory, and if I was smart I’d run now. “It won’t be slow and easy, Summer.” His hard-as-granite cock brushes my inner thighs. “Not this time. No, this time I’m going to fuck you hard and fast. I’m going to leave you so wrecked, you’re going to feel me inside you for a week.”
“No, you’re not,” I say, and worry backlights his eyes. He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. He thinks I’m having second thoughts, but I’m not.
I’m desperate to have his cock inside me, but first I need it in my mouth. I push him, and he slides off my body. His brow furrows, but then it smooths out when I go to my knees and wrap my mouth around his impressive cock.
“God, Summer,” he murmurs, his hand in my hair again, wrapping it around his hand and tugging it so he can watch his cock slide in and out of my mouth. I take him to the back of my throat, wanting him deeper, wanting all of him but knowing it’s impossible. I relax my throat, take in another inch. Blood rushes through his veins, his cock growing impossibly thicker in my mouth. I cup his balls, massage gently. He tugs on my hair, dragging me off him.
One look at his face tells me he’s close, and while I want him to come in my mouth, I’m desperate to feel his thickness inside me. He’s about to position me under him, but I don’t want vanilla with this man. I press down on his chest, keeping him pinned beneath me. Taking control, I straddle him.
“I’m the one who’s going to fuck you hard and fast, and I’m not about to apologize for it.”
“Jesus,” he murmurs, the thread holding him together unraveling before my eyes.
“Protection?” I ask. I’m on the Pill, but no way am I about to have unprotected sex with a stranger.
“Pants,” he says. I climb off him for a second and grab his pants. I fish the condom from his pocket, and when I turn around he’s gripping his thick cock. He pumps his fist, and I gulp for air.
“Like what you see?”
I’ve never seen a man do that before, and I have to say, it’s incredibly hot. “Yeah, I do,” I say, and wet my lips, my mouth eager to be back on him as everything he’s doing taunts my body. His hand moves steadily, and I tear into the foil. He reaches for it, but I pull it back.
“Let me.”
He curses under his breath. “Are you trying to kill me tonight?”
I laugh, but it’s full of need and desire. Moving back between his legs, I get ready to slide the condom on, but stop when precum drips from his slit. I lean forward and lick it with the tip of my tongue. “Mmm,” I murmur. “I love the taste of you. I could lick you all day,” I say, echoing his earlier words.
“Get that condom on me. Now,” he commands.
He fists his cock, as I press it to his crown and slowly slide it down. His agonized moan curls around me, and I shimmy forward, my legs on either side of him as I straddle his body.
He grips his cock, ready to feed it to me, and I brace my hands on his chest and I slowly lower myself, taking one glorious inch at a time, until he’s seated inside me. I go still, to give my body time to adjust to his girth.
He swallows and places his hands on my hips. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are, how good my cock feels inside you?” he asks, his voice labored, strained. He’s struggling to hang on, and I love knowing I can do this to him.
He moves his hips a little, powering upward, and I gasp. “You have the nicest cock, Tate. I love the way you fill me.” My lashes fall as I wiggle my hips, move his cock around inside me. Sparks of pleasure shoot through me, taking me by surprise. “I can’t believe how close I am to coming, again,” I whisper. I open my eyes and look at him. “I never come twice,” I admit.
“That’s because you’ve never been with me before,” he says, his voice low, intense, deadly serious.
“You’re pretty confident.”
“Yeah, I am.”
With my body shaking, and a new kind of need taking up residency inside me, I say, “Then ruin me, Tate. Ruin me with your beautiful cock.” I lift my body, until only his crown remains buried inside me. “Please...”
His grip on my hips tightens, and he pistons upward. Air leaves my lungs as he fills me, sliding in and out, creating heat and friction that fogs my brain. His cock throbs inside me, and I move with him, slamming myself down on his steel rod as he thrusts upward. My clit smashes against his body as we fuck. He presses roughly into me, and my muscles flex around him.
“You are so wet and tight,” he growls, his hard flesh pounding inside me, a maddening, punishing pace.
“I... I...” I begin, but my voice falls off as my body lets go a second time, my hot cum spilling over his cock. Why is sex with this man so good? I moan, revel in the swirling heat and pleasure racing through my body.
“Jesus,” he murmurs, his thrusts picking up speed as he chases his own orgasm. I lift and come down on him again, and his curses reach my ears as the last of his thread snaps. I cup my breasts, pinch my nipples, and his nostrils flare. We move, crushing our bodies together, each pulling and pushing, giving and taking. He swells even more inside of me and I cry out his name. I lift again, but he pulls me down, his fingers digging in for purchase as he throws his head back and fills the latex with his cum.
“Yes...” I whisper, loving the look on his face as he comes for me.
The only problem is, I said we only had tonight, but now that I’ve had him, I’m going to want more.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tate
MY EYES BLINK OPEN, take in the naked woman sleeping soundly beside me. Sometime throughout the night, or maybe it was closer to dawn, we’d managed to make it to the bed in the loft. I stretch out as the late morning sunlight filters in through the skylights, and Summer shifts beside me, the blankets sliding off her shoulders. With a chill in the air, I tug the blankets up and wrap them around her. I take a moment to look at her, the mess of her hair, a satisfied smile on her face, even in sleep. While I’d like to wake her again, put my cock inside her, I inch away, keeping my hands to myself. Last night...well, what can I say about last night? I totally fucked up and lost control.
I give a hard shake of my head. Why the hell did I have sex with the one girl I should have kept my distance from? I was supposed to strip her bare, and take her to her knees. But instead she took me to mine.
Shit.
I inch aw
ay a little more, careful not to wake her. I need time to think before we speak. Need time to figure out my next course of action before I do anything else with Summer Love. I slowly climb from the bed and make my way down the stairs. The pile of our clothes on the floor brings back erotic images of the night before. My cock thickens at the memories. Sex with Summer was un-fucking-believable.
I’ve never met a woman so open or honest, so...bare during sex. The way she gave me her body so freely, and dragged me into a vortex of need and desire, well that’s never happened to me before.
I glance at my cell phone on the kitchen counter. I have to talk to Granddad, try a final time to ask more questions about Summer Love before I say or do anything rash. Yeah, last night wasn’t rash at all. I tug on my jeans and sweater, toss a few logs into the hot embers and grab my phone. New York is six hours behind us, but Granddad will be up. He’s always up at the crack of dawn, ever since I could remember.
I step into one of the main level bedrooms for privacy and punch in his number. I’m not sure what I’ll say. If he knew I was in St. Moritz checking up on Summer Love, he’d be on his private jet, ready to tear me a new one. Not that he could take his private jet, since I’d already done that, and it’s currently waiting for me at the airstrip just outside of town. Seriously though, he would take my actions as a breach of trust, and men like my grandfather don’t get over something like that easily. I take a fueling breath, when my call goes through.
“Hello,” a woman says.
What the hell, he has a woman at his house? Maybe he’s moved on from Summer, and all this was a waste of time. A wonderful, delicious waste of time, but a waste of time nonetheless. “I’m looking for James, my grandfather.”
“I’m sorry, he’s resting. I’m his health care worker, and it’s not in his best interest to disturb him.” Ah, right, I remember Granddad saying he would have in-house care. I feel a measure of relief to know he’s being looked after. “I can take a message for him.”
I hear my granddad cough in the background. “It sounds like he’s awake to me.”
“He, uh...” She hesitates, then says, “He’ll have to call you back.”
Why the hell won’t Granddad take my call? Does he know what I’m up to? “Can you tell him it’s important?”
“Of course I will. Bye for now.” And just like that the line goes dead. Son of a bitch.
I shove my phone into the front pocket of my jeans, and step back into the main room, the fire now heating the place back up again. I’m not sure what comes next, but I’m going to need coffee before I can figure it out.
I open and close the cupboards. The place hasn’t been stocked in ages. I grab my coat and consider leaving Summer a note. It’s not in my nature to bolt without so much as a goodbye. Then again, it’s not in my nature to have sleepovers either. I grab a piece of paper, scribble that I’m headed out to get us breakfast and step outside.
I pull out my phone again and open the app that allows me to order from Hauser’s, my favorite breakfast spot. Since I don’t know what Summer likes, I order a ton of food, then shove my phone back into my pocket after I prepay. I should probably cool it with the big gestures—it might tip her off that I’m not the bartender of modest means I’m pretending to be.
Snow crunches beneath my feet as I follow the path to the café, and monstrous clouds cast shadows over the ski hills. I’m guessing we’ll be getting a storm like everyone was speculating. That will really put a damper on Winterfest, which begins tomorrow. It’s an annual festival to raise money for charity, so they’ll go through with it as best they can, despite the weather. I’d planned to be gone before the storm hits and the place grew busier with the upcoming festivities. But now I’m not so sure that’s going to happen. I think I’m going to have to hang around until I hear from my grandfather. And while I’m waiting, I plan to get to know Summer better, to see who she really is and what’s really going on with her before I report back to Granddad.
I nod a good-morning at a couple walking by and weave through the path to the restaurant that is famous for its Belgian waffles. Long strides take me to my destination in record time, and when I pull the door open the fresh scent of dark roasted coffee fills my nostrils. I might need two extralarge this morning. I step up to the counter and give my name, then hang back as they seat guests.
From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Summer’s friends as they linger over coffee. Shit. I don’t want to make conversation, so I inch back a bit more, but I think they’ve already seen me. If Summer wants them to know she slept with me it’ll come from her, not me. Although one look at me, or her, and it’s easy to tell we were up all night partaking in a sex marathon. My order comes out, and I grab it and dash outside. I retrace my steps back to my chalet and when I enter, I hear water running in the bathroom.
I set the food on the counter, and step up to the closed door. Hand on knob, I listen for a moment, all the while trying not to visualize her in there naked, soaping up her perfect body. Too late, I’m visualizing it. I clench down on my teeth, then knock.
“Summer, I’m back and I have breakfast.” The water stops running, and I step back, before I do something stupid, like barge in and fuck her in the shower.
“I’ll be right out,” she says, and I grit my teeth at the sound of her sultry voice. Will things be awkward between us this morning? I never hang around or do morning-afters, so I’m not sure what to expect from her. I back up and stare at the door until she comes out, wrapped in nothing but a big fluffy towel.
“Good morning,” she says, her cheeks a sexy shade of pink.
I follow her bright, cheery tone that sets the mood for us. “Hungry?”
“Starving.” She looks past my shoulder. “Tell me you have coffee.”
“I have coffee.” I stand there, unmoving, and she smiles at me.
She blinks up at me. “Everything okay?”
“Ah, do you want to get dressed first?”
“No, I’m okay.” She moves past me, and her laugh reverberates through my body, settles in my balls. Did she just give an extra shake to her backside? “Tate, did you order one of everything again?” she asks when she sees the bags.
“I—”
“Didn’t know what I liked,” she says, finishing my sentence for me. There’s concern in her eyes for a brief flash. “This is totally unnecessary by the way...but very sweet of you.”
“Sweet?”
She pulls container after container from the bags, and glances at me over her shoulder. “What, another word you’ve never been called before?” Her teasing voice seeps through my veins, and I’m pretty certain she’s playing with me, testing my hard-earned control.
I reach into the cupboard and pull out plates. “What do you take in your coffee?”
“Just milk.”
I dump out the bag with the milk and sugar and fix her coffee for her. “How’s this look?”
“It looks like heaven.” She wraps her hands around the paper cup. She breathes it in, and the small smile on her flushed face is sexy as hell. She takes a small sip. “Mmm.”
“Fuck.”
Her eyes open. “What?”
Okay, yeah, she’s messing with me. “Do you know that’s the same sound you make in bed?”
“Well, technically we weren’t in bed.” Our eyes both go to the spot where we had sex on the floor, numerous times.
“Yet,” I say, and surprise myself.
Okay, Tate, you’re supposed to be getting to know her better. That doesn’t mean sex again.
“Just so you know, I’d take sex with you over coffee any day.”
Unable to help myself, I step up to her and slide my hand around her neck. I grip her tightly, sweep my fingers over her soft skin and drag her mouth to mine. She tastes like mint and coffee and everything sweet. I break the kiss and we’re both breathless.
&nb
sp; “What was that for?” she asks.
“That was for shaking your ass at me a minute ago.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says, and turns her attention to the containers. She opens the waffles and her eyes go wide. “These look amazing.”
“They taste better than they look.” She divvies them up as I uncover the sausage, bacon, eggs, toast and pancakes.
“I’m going to be fifteen pounds heavier when I leave here next week.”
We sit at the table and I take a much-needed drink from my coffee. “You’re only here for a week, then?”
“Yep, then it’s back to the real world.”
“What is your real world, Summer?” I ask, since she opened the door. “You only have a first name, and you’re in between jobs. What else can you tell me about yourself? Family, friends?”
“You met my friends.”
“I saw them this morning at the restaurant. What do they do, besides hang out in St. Moritz with you?”
“Well, believe it or not, Amber lives in Palo Alto and works in finance for a startup company, something to do with the trucking industry.”
“No way.”
“Yeah, she’s really smart.”
“What does Cara do?”
“Cara is an emergency room doctor at Southampton Hospital.”
My jaw falls open. “Really?”
“Impressive, right? I have smart friends,” she says. “I could never work at the kind of pace Cara does. Which is why...” She suddenly closes her mouth like she said too much.
How can she be so secretive outside of the bedroom, and so open and honest inside it? “Which is why what?”
“I’m not an emergency room doctor,” she says, and gives a laugh.
“How did you all meet?”
She averts my eyes, and says, “Oh, when I spent time in Boston, I met them. We’ve been tight ever since.”
How would a con living in Boston get in with two smart, successful women like Amber and Cara? Something really isn’t adding up here.