by Kayla, Mia
Just when I thought nothing would top his stories, he’d pull out another one to make me laugh harder.
My cheeks and ears were warm from my buzz.
“I couldn’t help it.” He tipped back his glass and smiled his Oscar-award-winning smile. “She had the nicest rack. I mean … I did apologize afterward. It was pretty awkward, but there’s a certain way you’re supposed to position yourself to act out a love scene, and how she was positioned was directly above my cock. She was rubbing against my dick, and … well, you know …” He averted his stare, seeming sheepish. It was kinda cute on him.
More laughter escaped me. Oh, the joys of working in Hollywood.
“So, what happened after? Did you take her off the lot for a test drive?”
He coughed, choking on his wine. “The lot? Who talks like that?” Reaching for the napkin, he dabbed at the dribbles of wine that had slipped from the corner of his mouth. “And no. She was married. I don’t date married women.”
I quirked an eyebrow, curious about all the action this man had gotten. “You have quite the playboy reputation.” I lifted my hair and pulled it into a bun on the top of my head. It must be the muggiest night all summer, gauging by the way my hair had been stuck to the back of my neck. “Always with a model,” I said. “Never with the same girl twice.”
“Stalker,” he coughed out, covering his mouth with one hand. “Should I file a restraining order against you too?” he teased.
I chucked a napkin at him. “Please. This is widely known. If you walked through a grocery store aisle and looked at all those tabloids, you’d be confused about your love life too. So … I want to hear it from the source.”
He leaned in and brushed a finger against my cheek. Goose bumps formed down my neck, turning into horny bumps traveling farther south of the border.
“I only date beautiful ones. Plus, why stop something you’re good at?” He winked and offered a bemused smile.
I rolled my eyes, but shit, if I didn’t want a piece of that action too. Yes, I did. I’d raise my hand and volunteer as tribute.
Enough of this nonsense.
I stood, placed my wineglass on the table, and sauntered over toward my hot tub. I untied the top, took off the cover, and turned it on. The hum and vibrations of the tub came to life.
This party was just about to get started.
I was going to turn up the heat and relieve some tension—the tension that should have been eased nights ago.
At least, that was my goal.
“What are you doing?” His tone lowered, his breath husky, nervous and hella turned on.
“I’m taking the party into the Jacuzzi.”
I pushed down my slacks and unbuttoned my shirt, slipping it off and exposing my black lace thong and matching bra. His sharp intake of breath cut through the night sky, and then his mouth slipped slightly ajar.
I bit my lip to hide my smile.
I threw one leg over the edge of the hot tub, careful not to fall, and slipped right in. Throwing him a sinful glance, I asked, “You joining me or what?”
He lost all ability to speak, and for once, I was grateful that the tables had turned. This was exactly what I needed. Now, look at who is all out of sorts.
He swallowed. “Uh … I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
My look was playful, seductive. “Did Cade specifically say you couldn’t get in a hot tub with me?”
What did his brother dating my sister have to do with me? If anything, my sister was trying to drive us together, pelvis to pelvis.
His eyes searched the vicinity—who knew for what? Divine intervention? There was no escaping this she-devil.
“No, he never said that, but …” His voice was shaky and lacked his normal confidence.
“Or maybe you don’t have as much self-control as you think you do.”
Automatically, he stood, bringing the bottle of wine and wineglasses and setting them on the edge of the hot tub. I could read him like an open book, clear and predictable. He was the male version of myself. When someone challenged me, I always, always womanned up.
My mouth watered as he lifted his shirt above his head and threw it on top of the chair. Next, he pushed down his jeans, and I might have drooled a little at the sight of his six-pack leading to the happy trail that was covered by boxers.
Goodness gracious, his great balls of fire were thick beneath his boxers. And for the love of all that was holy, he wasn’t even hard.
“Move over,” he commanded, his voice rough and guttural.
“Okay.” I scooted over, making room for him.
He slipped, and the water slushed against the edge of the Jacuzzi. The air was charged with so much energy that I could almost taste it. The invisible spark, a line that I felt from his eyes to mine, intensified, and that sizzle was undeniably there.
“Let’s work on finishing that bottle.” I poured him a glass and passed it to him and then poured myself one. Then, you can finish working on me.
Once the wine touched his lips, he relaxed, spread his arms over the sides of the tub, and leaned his head all the way back as he closed his eyes, his whole body going limp in the water. “This actually feels good.”
“Mmhmm,” I hummed, wanting to tell him what else would make him feel good.
“I bet you use this often.” His eyes remained closed, his breathing steady and even.
“Yeah, when I first moved here, Angie and I were out here almost every day. Lying out during the weekends mostly.” Now, those nights were far and few with Cade in her life. “I kinda miss our sisterly Jacuzzi and Netflix nights.”
His eyes flicked open, meeting mine. “I love how you love. How you love your family. How passionate you are about your job.”
His words caught me off guard.
“You and I are more alike than not.” His eyes fell shut again, and he sank farther into the water. “We love wholeheartedly, and we’d do anything for our family.”
Silence spanned the space between us, and I relaxed against the Jacuzzi, admiring the view.
The firm set of his shoulders, his square jaw, the shadow of a beard on his baby face. His profile was sharp and confident, and oh-so attractive.
This time, I wanted to see if he tasted as good as he looked, so I inched over, and his eyes flew open. He straightened and sat taller, and the water swished between us.
His eyes flicked back as though he was debating whether or not to get out. Considering I was about to turn up the volume on this party, maybe he should.
“Did you know when I was younger, I always wanted to be an actress?”
“Really?” His pitch heightened.
If we weren’t in the hot tub, I’d imagine the beads of water on his upper lip and cheeks were sweat.
“Yes. A Disney actress.”
I undid the bun I’d put up earlier, letting my locks fall into the water, causing ripples to fan out. There was too much space between us, and when I moved closer, he stiffened, the strain in his neck visible. I placed my wineglass on the edge and stood. My breasts were level with his face, and a shiver ran through me.
“I think I’ve seen this scene before in one of your movies.” My voice was barely audible against the gurgling of the hot tub.
His eyes were cautious, and he purposely gripped the edge of the hot tub, leaning back as far as he could.
“Remember Love and Lust in Vegas?” I asked.
A nervous laugh escaped him. “You saw that? That was one of the first films I made.”
“And I loved that movie, especially the hot tub scene.” I stepped in closer, dropped to eye-level, and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Tene …” There was worry, indecision, and want in his eyes that mirrored mine.
“Did Cade say we couldn’t act? That I can’t replay a scene?” I sucked on my bottom lip, pushed against him, and pressed my aching breasts against his chest. Heat flooded every molecule of my body, searing my skin, bubbling in my veins.
I ne
eded this. I wanted my sanity back.
Droplets of water cascaded down the hard planes of his toned chest, and I angled my face toward his.
“How about we say this is an acting lesson?”
“This is a very dangerous acting lesson.” His hands moved to my shoulders, and his fingers trembled, just like the rest of him.
I knew he was using every ounce of self-control to keep steady, and I was using every ounce of mine to not strip and attack him.
I decided to turn up the heat and wrap my thighs around his waist, pushing myself flush against his body.
He was hard, and a small moan fell from his lips. “Tene …”
“So, you said that the last time you got hard …” I pushed my pelvis against his thickening bulge. “… she was rubbing you wrong.”
The water splashed between us, and the sensual friction caused my insides to burn with an intense need that was unbearable.
His hands dropped to my waist to still me, but I positioned myself against him. My breathing sped up as I rocked farther into him, teasing him.
My nipples pebbled into hard nubs, and every inch of my body prickled with sensitivity.
“You’re playing with fire here, Tene.” His breath was warm and throaty and horny against my skin.
“This is just an acting lesson,” I reminded him. “I just want some tips from the best.”
His eyes darkened as we rubbed against each other, and he grabbed my ass in a ten-finger hold and pushed into me. One. Two. Three times. My eyes fell shut as our breathing became labored.
My hands threaded through his hair, and I tilted my head to peer down at him. “Cade never banned you specifically from this.”
His fingers moved up, lightly skimming my stomach, cupping my breasts, and landing on my face. “I’m done talking about Cade.”
Our lips crashed together in an overpowering, hungry kiss. A kiss that sang through my body and sent shivers of desire through me. He flicked the seam of my lips and kissed me openmouthed, our tongues meshing together in a sensual dance. He ravished my mouth, hard at times, soft at others, the perfect arousing rhythm.
“You taste so good,” he whispered, dropping his mouth to my neck, peppering kisses back up to my mouth. “You’re beautiful. You’re perfect.”
“All lines,” I breathed.
“All true,” he said breathlessly. “I want you so bad. You just don’t understand.”
My insides soared. It had been a long dry spell. Well, months with nothing but my vibrator was a long dry spell for me. I needed him. All of him buried deep inside me.
When I stood, his fingers gripped my hips, and his mouth hovered over my stomach, his tongue dipping into my navel. He peered up at me through horny, hooded eyes as he flicked his tongue over each of my nipples. When his large hand squeezed the swell of one of my breasts, my head flew back, and my eyes fell shut from the sensation.
I gripped his slick, damp hair with both hands and pulled him up. I was done with nice and slow and careful. I wanted hard and fast and dangerous.
I wrapped both hands around his neck and crashed my lips against his again.
“Fuck it!” He stood with one arm around my waist and the other holding the edge of the tub for support to get us out.
The water dripped against the concrete, our undergarments soaking wet and clinging to our bodies like Saran Wrap.
Our lips met together in a fiery hold, and I met him head-on, mouth on mouth, tongue against tongue.
He gently laid me on my patio table and slid my panties down my legs.
The battle he was fighting against our attraction had been lost. This time, the white flag was replaced with my black lace underwear as he waved them and tossed them to the side.
When he dropped to his knees and his tongue touched my center, my hips bucked forward.
“Relax,” he soothed.
Relax? There had been no lead-in, no warning, just a flick of his tongue against my clit. And this man wanted me to relax?
Loud moans escaped me. I wasn’t a quiet woman. If something felt good, I’d let my man know it, and oh goodness, his tongue was mighty skilled and long and thick and—
Ahh!
My eyes fell shut, and he only lifted his head when I let out an exceedingly loud moan.
“Baby, you’ve got to be quiet, or we’ll have your neighbors calling the cops.”
I lifted my head and shot him a look that made him laugh. “I live in the penthouse for a reason.”
There were only skyscrapers on the horizon that were higher than my building. No one would be able to see us unless they were working at two in the morning and had binoculars.
He slipped two fingers inside me, and I exhaled, dropping my head back on the table.
“So, you’ve done this before? Sex on this balcony?”
I breathed through my next words, desperate for release. “No, that’s not what I said.”
When I moved against the friction of his fingers, he stilled.
“Jordan …” I moaned.
The smile on his face was blinding and playful, but, most of all, annoying.
“Did you need something?”
I lifted my bottom, wanting more, desperate for release. “Yes.”
Warm lips trailed kisses along my ankle and up my leg to my inner thigh, ending where he’d begun.
I lifted my hips, needing to get closer, needing more friction.
“You’re so sexy. So sweet.” He flicked and teased my center, his hands rubbing up and down my thighs.
I gripped a good chunk of his hair. Enough foreplay. I wanted the real thing. “I need … need you in me.” I wanted to feel the fullness of him when I came.
He kissed me fiercely with the tenderness of his mouth, and I could taste myself on him, exciting me further. His hardness pressed against my stomach through his boxers. I knew we’d be explosive together, and I was done waiting.
My hands dropped to the waistband of his soaked boxers, pulling them down just a tad and holding his thickness between us, feeling the expansion of his hardness between my fingertips.
His hands fell at my thighs, and our mouths found each other under the moonlight once again.
“Condom,” I commanded.
He pulled back and dropped his forehead against mine. “I don’t have one.”
I searched his face and stopped. “What? In your jeans?”
He backed away, and my fingers dropped from his cock.
He strained his neck to the sky, his breathing labored and erratic, his chest heaving. “I doubted my self-control, so I …”
I hopped off the table, steady on my feet. My body zinged with no release, and my emotions were all over the place. “Well, I have some inside.”
His fingers dropped to my wrist, stilling me. “Tene …”
My eyebrows flew to the open night sky. “What?”
“I can’t. We can’t. And I shouldn’t have, but you’re …” His eyes scanned my body. “I just needed a taste. Lie on the table; let me finish you off.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” It was as if I had been doused with a bucket of ice. No. Pelted with ice. In my face.
When he didn’t answer, I knew he was dead serious, and my face reddened. I dropped to my knees and reached for the waistband of his boxers, which were slick to his skin.
“Tene …” His words trailed off, going poof into the air as I took him deep into my mouth. I took him in as far as I could take him without gagging and watched his eyes fly to the back of his head. “Sh-shit.”
Within minutes, I could hear the guttural sounds that escaped his lips. He held on to the table, his fingers trembling, clutching my table for support. I sucked and tasted and flicked my tongue against his thickness, possibly giving the best blow job I’d ever given in my life. I could tell he was close, given the tightening of his balls and the loud noises escaping him.
Then, I stopped.
Abruptly.
I pulled back, stood, crossed my arms ove
r my well-endowed chest, and smiled.
He lifted his head, his face red, eyes showing confusion.
Take that, Taco Blocker.
Then, I turned, leaving him a standing, boner-pointing mess.
In one swift movement, he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me under the knees. “You’re right; he never has to know. Where’s your room?”
I pointed in the direction he needed to go.
“You don’t like when I play cockblocker, but you totally can?” I huffed out.
He shut my words down with passionate kisses and led us through the patio door and to my bedroom.
Chapter 15
With kisses on lips, hands on hips, our bodies crashed against each other. Mine was crazy hot, the flames spreading like a wildfire underneath my skin. What I needed wasn’t water. What I needed was release. He gently guided me onto the bed, his eyes deeply hooded, thick with need and heavy with want.
My body was on the verge of combustion, and I mirrored the same need, but I backed up against the headboard, playing the cat-and-mouse game. He’d started it, and I would decide when we finished it.
He smirked, and the deep blue in his eyes darkened. “Is that how you want to play it?”
I sucked in my bottom lip. “Maybe I don’t want you as much as you think I want you.”
He lifted an eyebrow, and his dick twitched beneath him. He peered down at his package. “Well, I know one thing—this guy knows what he wants.” He leaned forward, tipping his dick in my direction, a direct line to me. “And it wants you.”
He reached for my feet, and I squealed, laughing and wriggling against his hold and against my purple satin sheets.
He caged me in, his arms by my head, and kissed me with reckless abandon, steady and seductive and sensual. His hardness pressed against my stomach, my wetness touching his skin.
“Beautiful,” he whispered through sweet, peppered kisses. “God, you’re exquisite.” Words of worship escaped him. He planted a kiss between each word, on my shoulders, my neck, my face, and back to meet my lips.
I quivered at the sweet tenderness. And besides the desire building inside of me, a little sliver of my heart opened for him—for his words; his kindness; for the love of his family; for the gentle way he’d taken care of me the other night when no one else really did.