She stared at him as the haze of the moment clouded her brain.
He unbuttoned his pants, but until he kicked his jeans free, he was this picture-perfect calendar-worthy shirtless man in denim. It was an unbelievably hot vision.
He pushed his jeans down his long, powerful legs. Lucy was almost afraid to look, but she had to. John was blessed in all areas, and that meant she would be too. She smiled as her face rushed with heat at the sight of his endowment, but that gave way to a storm of nerves. The preliminaries of undressing were behind them. It was about to get real.
Chapter Nine
John
John’s belly was filled with fire and butterflies as he beheld the beautiful woman offering herself to him. It was all so new and so fast, but it felt right. He moved his hands under the backs of her knees and her neck to reposition her body.
He brushed her hair from her face so he could gaze into her eyes. He’d been in a serious relationship before, but that was long ago. The last decade for him had been about being a fun-loving cad. He wasn’t purposely cruel, but he told himself that if he was upfront about the meaning of sex for him then he wasn’t leading anyone astray.
He’d like to say this situation was no different, but he didn’t expect to feel so strongly about Lucy. Hell, the day he met her was like getting hit on the side of the head with a reality bat. He liked her a lot. The way he felt wasn’t anything he could control. Now that she was beneath him, looking up at him with wonder and adorable nervousness, he was afraid himself. She made him want more. She made him need more. She made him vulnerable.
“You okay?” He hooked her feet with his and spread her legs so he could nestle his big frame between her thighs.
Besides sitting down, this was one of the few positions that allowed him to be face to face with her. It was a new and refreshing experience.
“I’m fine,” she assured him.
She had the most delicate lips he’d ever kissed. She parted her mouth for him and received his tongue as he swept his inside. It felt like he was finally home. Holding her. Kissing her. Lying with her. It was too much and not enough at the same time. He wanted more. Desperately needed more.
He adjusted himself so he fit better on the bed, which was way too small for two people, when one was his size. He drew her leg up around his hip and then slipped his fingers on the inside of her thighs until he found her wetness.
He traced the damp petals, grazing her sex with his thumb, agitating it sweetly. She moved beneath him. He slipped to the right, so they were side by side, still entangled but in a position where he could take her in. She had the body of a goddess.
He flexed his palm, gliding it with a soft pressure over the flat of her stomach. She was just shy of too thin, but her leanness set off the lines and curves of her body with classic grace. He was certain he’d never seen a more beautiful woman.
It almost hurt to look at her perfection. It was more than her physical beauty that affected him—it was something he couldn’t see, but felt, and it gathered deep inside his chest to give him pause.
He stroked her hair away from her face as he palmed her cheek and kissed her. John rose above her as Lucy reached between them and took his length into her small hand. He was large and hard in her tight grip and his eyes pressed tightly closed as a rush of passion pushed through him. Her touch set him ablaze.
“Oh,” he groaned. He feared he’d finish before he started. She pushed his shoulder and encouraged him back. He was so incapacitated by her touch that he rolled right over like a puppy wanting its belly scratched.
“Condom?”
“Wallet.” He pointed toward the floor near the end of the bed.
She found it in the heap of his clothes. She straddled him and rolled it on. John peeked at her through passion-heavy lids and smiled a lazy smile of arousal.
She straddled him with her curvy petite frame and took charge. Her wild hair swept around her like a tempest. She pressed on her knees and lifted her hips.
His fingers found her once again. She was ready for him.
He looked at her with intense passion, took himself in hand, and pressed his length to her entrance. With his other hand on her hip, he guided her down firmly until she was seated on his groin. He filled her as completely as he was able.
The pure white daylight filtered through the seams of the blinds and gilded her outline with an angelic aura. With his hands on her hips, they rocked back and forth while he lifted off the mattress to meet each stroke.
She leaned forward, her mane tumbling with the motion and spilling onto his skin. It tickled in the most delicious way. Lucy’s spine rolled as she undulated smoothly on top of him.
John wanted to lift her up and rocket into her lithe little body—he was impatient to feel as much pleasure as he could. She was like a furnace—a molten, wet furnace that fit him with agonizing tightness. She weighed next to nothing and created the perfect pressure.
“Amazing,” he murmured.
She looked down at him with glassy, passion-filled eyes.
He drew her head down to kiss her. As he feasted on her lips, he tipped her over, his hand gliding to the small of her back to press her to him.
John was electrified, turned on by everything about her. Sinking into the pillows as she looked to the ceiling, she drew her face tight and seized up. Her hips rose from the mattress, and her body rolled with delicious spasms.
Lucy’s eyes opened wide and regarded him with surprise.
He was filled with warmth, pleased that she’d found her pleasure. Her body gripped him rhythmically, drawing him in and driving him mad.
His eyes rolled back as his lids fluttered. He willed himself not to follow her into rapture as he wanted to stroke her through it. Wanted to torment her most sensitive moment. To draw as much sweetness from it as he could.
She moaned and thrashed her beautiful head side to side. John pulled up, still rocking her, and gazed down at her body. She lay on her back, where gravity put everything in its wonderful place. She was perfect.
His eyes were fixed as he steadily stroked her.
Finally, when Lucy opened her eyes again, she had the look of a woman who had an amazing high. She’d come back to earth and now her focus was on him.
He had the distinct feeling she was going to return the favor.
She extended her leg up and over his shoulder. John turned his head and kissed her ankle. She shivered, and he laughed softly. Lucy was ticklish.
“Mmm,” he growled. “Good to know.”
He drew up her other leg so that his head was framed. He gripped her ankles and rose up, driving into her with an elevated fury. In a short time, her pleasure was brought back to life. It was unbelievable. Twice now, she clenched him, pulsing around his hardness. He wasn’t sure if he could hold back any longer.
This time her climax was incredibly powerful, and it nearly doubled him over, her grip on him like a vise. That was all John could take. He felt a pulse move through him and he let go. His body shook until his muscles could no longer move. Never in his life had he experienced such powerful sex.
She held him tightly until he slipped from her body. They both relaxed against the plush mattress, succumbing to the waves of bliss that bathed them. John’s body was limp, his insides hummed, but his mind was clear.
“Lucy Shoemaker,” he declared. “That was, without a doubt, the best sex I’ve ever had.”
Chapter Ten
Lucy
A smile lifted Lucy’s lips. The best he’s ever had? His words filled her with joy because their moment was amazing and she could safely return his sentiment.
“Yes, it was.”
Laughter rolled through him and he tickled her until she curled up into a ball. She was super ticklish and now that he knew, he could use it against her.
They looked at each other, him with surprise like he’d discovered fire, and her look was a warning. She didn’t like to be tickled.
“Oh, you agree it was the best
sex I ever had?” He grinned.
The thing she loved about John when he smiled was that his entire face was involved. He smiled with the corners of his eyes, his cheeks lifted, his lips going for it. He smiled with all of himself, with such genuineness.
“I meant,” she said, curling up into the crook of his arm, “it was the best sex I ever had.”
“Mmm, glad to hear it. In fact, would love to stay in bed for the entire trip, but …” He rolled her up close to him.
“But what?”
He exhaled a sound of frustration. “I’m not going to inundate you with the Blackwood family, but Cal and I have cousins who are here. They’re doing their own thing, but we probably should say hi. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, that sounds nice.” Things were moving quickly: first kiss, best sex, and meet the family in the first week. But somehow it all felt right.
He rose up above her. Lucy believed she could have lain where she was and soaked in the vision of him looking down on her forever. His hair was pushed back into place, but the ends of it fell forward. The way the shadows and the light played on the planes of his face was so darn sexy. She couldn’t get enough.
“You know what this place has?” His voice held a level of excitement that made her heart race.
She couldn’t guess, but she loved the promise of a delicious surprise.
“I have no idea.” She responded in the same excited tone he had used.
“A deep, claw-foot tub,” he said like it was the Hope Diamond.
“Ooh,” she purred. “A tub? Really? And do they have running water too?” She liked the idea of taking a bath in one, but she had to rib him. He tickled her again in retaliation.
“Uncle.” She grabbed at his hands. “I’ll behave.”
He stopped tickling. “That’s right. Soaker tubs are a wonderful experience and my parents used to have one.”
She nodded. The mention of her house caused her belly to twinge. “That was before my time.”
“Yes,” he said. “It was. They remodeled, bringing the home into modern times. I had the popcorn ceiling removed. You can thank me later. Anyway, would you like to check out the tub?” He waggled his eyebrows.
How was she going to say no to that? He took her hand and led her to the bathroom. There was no one in the house except them, so it was okay that they traipsed naked down the hallway.
He lifted her, without warning, feet first into the tub and had her settle in while the water ran.
“I’ll be right back.” He walked out the door.
Lucy adjusted the temperature so it was just right and investigated the soaps and lotions tucked in a charming basket to the side of the tub. It was a long way down from the edge to the basket. She thought she could reach, but it was too far.
When John reappeared in the bathroom, her bottom was skyward. If she moved, she would topple over. She saw him set something down and heard the distinct sound of his laughter.
“May I have help please?”
That was all she needed to say. Powerful hands lifted her from the waist as if she were moving on her own. He held on to her while she found her balance. He could hardly stand himself. She must have been a sight to see for him to laugh that long and hard.
“I’m glad I tickled your funny bone,” she chuckled.
His laugh was contagious and soon she had to slip down to her rump and laugh it off. John pressed his lips to the top of her head.
“That might have been the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”
She wasn’t embarrassed at all. She was warmed. She also noted that he’d brought in treats.
“What do we have?”
“I’m not much of a drinker but …” He uncorked a bottle of champagne. The pop of the cork sent bubbles spilling over the top to land in the bath water. “I thought this occasion called for it.”
He leaned over the delicate glasses teetering on the tub edge and kissed her.
“If you keep this up, John Blackwood, I’m going to be spoiled rotten.”
Her attraction to him doped her fiercely. It was more narcotic than the effects of alcohol and it flooded every part of her. He was a tremendous muscle relaxer because she could barely move. She was an instant addict and wanted more.
He winked at her and grinned. “Maybe you’re spoiled already.”
She gasped, not knowing if he was teasing. “You think I’m spoiled?”
“No. Spoiled is the last thing you are. You’re hard-working, creative, gorgeous, and feisty.”
“Really? Hearing you say that is better than getting flowers. Almost.”
He filled both glasses with champagne and stepped into the tub behind her.
“So …” His breath tickled her ear, his voice as smooth as silk. “You like things like flowers?”
“Yes.” She admitted it like it was a secret she’d been dying to share.
“Oh, that’s good to know.”
Warmth crossed from his body to hers and filled her heart. She couldn’t believe what she was experiencing was real. It was so dreamlike.
“But I do have my pride,” she warned.
“You?”
“Yes,” she giggled. “It’s true. I do. So don’t go overboard.”
“Baby, overboard is my thing. If I want to lavish you with gifts, I will. I think I have a sense of you. I won’t make you uncomfortable. But this is fun, right?”
“You have to ask?” She turned to face him, careful not to splash water over the edge.
They wound their arms around each other and drank their champagne that way. Lucy craned her neck and matched her lips to his for a kiss. It felt so natural and so comfortable. John took her glass and set both down.
He moved her between his legs and soaped her with scented body wash and sudsed her up with a loofah. He was a master at gliding the coarse texture lightly and swiftly over her delicate skin.
He teased the pebbled tips of her breasts, ever so gently grating the sponge on the ends, sending electric wires twisting to her core. She could hardly take it. As he toyed with her, she felt him grow hard beneath her.
Her mind reflected on sweet stills of the sex they’d shared. He was so magnificent, his body so powerful, so fit as he hammered into her. She’d felt protected, safe, and adored in his arms. That flicker of jealousy that he might have taken another woman to his bed was gone. This man was present, and he was with her.
He reached for a towel dangling off a knob and placed it on the bottom of the tub to cushion their knees. He rose up like Poseidon and moved in front of her—so broad-chested and cut—and positioned her much the way she’d been when he’d walked in: back to him, leaning over the tub, gripping the edge for balance.
He rolled on the condom he’d placed out of sight, and was inside her a second time. As soon he was as deep as he could go, he wrapped his arms around her stomach, drawing her against him.
One arm had her pinned, and the other caressed her. She arched over the side of the tub, bracing her palms on the edge.
With his knee, he widened her stance. The warm bath water lapped at them, causing the blood to rush to certain places, heightening their arousal.
Lucy’s body was still sensitive, so bringing her back to the tipping point would not be a problem. As her breathing rose and her face went slack, John slowed his pace.
“Not so fast,” he whispered.
Almost to the sweet pinnacle of pleasure, she looked over her shoulder and glared at him as if to ask, ‘Are you crazy?’
He winked at her and fed her more champagne, helping himself to a sip before he continued.
He took her jaw in his fingers and turned her face so that they stared into each other’s eyes as he slowly moved inside her. Without warning, her body clenched in sweet spasms. It tightened and released until she recovered from a rolling climax, foiling her wanton plan to please him first.
He continued moving, but he was literally and figuratively right behind her. He canopied her backside with his chest. He b
ent over her as he tumbled into ecstasy, calling out to the world that he had found his pleasure. His body shook until he could no longer move. He slowly drew back, bringing her with him into the warm bath water.
Moments later, they climbed out of the tub, grabbed towels, and dashed across to his room, which had become their room. They fell into bed, suddenly exhausted and napped in each other’s arms.
Chapter Eleven
John
After a catnap, John patted Lucy’s hip to wake her. He fought the urge to stroke her body because doing so would mean they wouldn’t leave the room. She needed shoes, and he was eager to take her shopping. They stretched and dressed before they left the house to hit the shops. He knew exactly where they would go—a boutique called Eldora’s.
Her pace was slow in her heels, pretty as they were.
“How high are those things?” he asked, walking and staring at the height she’d gained by wearing them.
“Not high enough.” She drew a line from the top of her head to his chest.
“High enough for what?” he flirted.
“We can explore the answer to that question when we’re not in public, Mr. Blackwood.”
“I guess ‘Mr. Blackwood’ is better than ‘Hollywood.’” He wasn’t fond of her nickname for him. It implied he was superficial and inauthentic. He was anything but.
“I did call you that, didn’t I?”
“I think I win in the terms of endearment department.”
“Yes, I like baby … a lot. I didn’t know it was a competition, but I’m happy to step up my game.”
She huddled into him and he loved that, but he’d had enough of watching her walk in those damn heels that couldn’t be comfy and were likely to get her a broken ankle before the day was through. He had an idea.
“Piggyback.” He squatted down in front of her with his arms out, ready to support her legs.
“Seriously?”
He didn’t give her much time to think before he backed against her and hoisted her halfway up.
What If: A Small Town Big Love Novel Page 7