Best Erotic Romance 2014 (25 page)

He twined his fingers with hers. Just before she opened the door to her bedroom, he tugged on them. She turned back and arched a brow.

Leaning down, he brushed a kiss against her lips before resting his forehead on hers. “Don't kick my ego in the balls, okay? There's only so much I can take.”

She kissed him, teasing him with her tongue. After a minute she pulled back. “I promise. No ego kicking. I do want this.”

“And after?”

“We'll sort it out as it happens. That's all I can give you.”

The gray of his eyes softened as he peered into her soul. “Thank you.”

He gripped the handle of her door and opened it. He bent and swept her up into his arms. She shrieked at the sudden change in balance. Paul wasn't a scrawny man, but neither was she a lightweight herself. He juggled her until she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Early evening light streamed in through the windows ringing the top third of the walls of the bedroom. He placed her down on the bed and followed her down, blanketing her with his body. She spread her legs to cradle his hips. The feel of him full against her satisfied something she hadn't realized her soul had been craving.

Strong lips commanded hers. She remembered the feel of them from their one aborted night together and reveled in the changes in pressure she liked best. Eventually, he teased her lips open with his tongue and they dueled for supremacy.

His hand worked the robe's tie at her waist until it slithered open. They both moaned when he cupped her breast. Her nipples hardened even further as he massaged the swelling mound.

She ground her hips against his, working the erection lining the placket. He broke the kiss and laid his head against her neck as he heaved in a breath.

“Damn, woman.” He pushed up and kneeled between her thighs.

She slipped her arms from the robe and sat up. Helped him with removing his shirt. A few buttons popped off. He reached for his fly, but she stayed his hands. His ridged abdomen flexed in front of her as he sucked in air. She outlined each muscle with kisses.

At the waistband of his shorts, she nipped the skin at the top of the fly. He wound his fingers through her hair as she licked the hurt. She undid the buttons and pushed down his shorts and briefs. His cock begged for attention. The hair surrounding its base was a bit darker than the hair on his head. She strung kisses along its length and watched as the vessels beneath the skin pulsed even harder.

Taking the tip into her mouth, she delicately sucked as she squeezed the root. He groaned and pulled away. “God, Jules. I need to last here.”

She laughed as he pushed her back onto the pillows. He stepped off the bed and shed his shorts. From the back pocket of them, he pulled out a foil packet and tossed it on to the bed. Appreciating his preparedness, she held it up. “Want me to put it on?”

He grinned. “No. You'll have me shooting off before you get it half on. This is all I brought with me, so it's got to last.”

“No night of debauchery planned?”

He climbed back onto the bed and settled himself next to her. Running a hand down from her neck to her hip, he smiled. “Definitely hoped for, but nope, no planning.”

Bending his neck, he dropped a kiss on her shoulder. She curled up to wrap herself around him, but he pushed down on the other shoulder, pinning her to the bed. He worshipped her body. Kisses, bites, licks. He paid homage to every inch of her. At the apex of her thighs, he buried his face into her curls and licked her out until she gave a short scream. The orgasm was only a prelude as he surged back up.

He grabbed the packet and ripped it open, sliding the latex down his shaft. He hooked one arm under one of her thighs and positioned himself with his other hand. Speared into her. She shuddered. The first thrust of a cock was one of her favorite
parts of sex. The mini-orgasm had taken the edge off, but as he worked her—short thrusts, mixed with the odd long thrust and pause—the heat became incendiary. She clutched at his arms but couldn't find purchase.

The palm of the hand not holding her leg up pressed down on her mons, rubbing her clit with every movement of his hips. The pressure ensured she felt every ridge of his cock. She clamped down on him and his control finally broke. He pounded into her. Her orgasm washed over her and she screamed. He jerked and groaned above her, then collapsed on top of her.

Neither moved for an eternity. Finally, he slipped out of her and got off the bed to dispose of the used condom. He left the room for a few minutes and came back with a wet washcloth. Cleaned her as he murmured sweet nothings in her ear. She smiled and petted the back of his neck. He left once more and then came back in and crawled into bed with her. Pulled the sheets around them and her into his arms. Kissed her temple.

“How about it? Room service and then a night of debauchery?”

She somehow found it in herself to laugh. “Sure. That sounds wonderful.” She kissed him to seal the deal.

WHATEVER IT TAKES

Kristina Wright

“The twins have baseball practice at five o'clock. Can you get Meredith to her dance class?” I ask, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder as I navigate the Jeep through the purgatory known as the after-school pick-up line. “I'll take Luke and Joey to baseball and pick up Trevor at Reya's house when they're done with their project. And if you can get Meredith to and from dance and pick up Chinese on the way home, we can eat dinner around seven.”

“I can drop her off and pick her up, but I need to get downtown before six and pick up the hardware for the cabinets in the garage so I can get those installed this weekend,” David says. “She'll be okay at dance class alone, right?”

I bite my lip. “Probably. Yeah, she'll be fine. Just ask Savannah's mother to keep an eye on her until you get back. Class is over at six-thirty, so don't get stuck in traffic.”

“I'll do my best, honey. Now, which one is Savannah's mother?”

“Can't remember her name,” I say, waving out the car
window to five-year-old twins, Luke and Joey. They amble over to the car, dragging their backpacks along the sidewalk, and climb inside. “She's the one with the—um—large assets.”

Luke giggles and Joey hollers from the backseat, “That means she has big boobs!”

Damn public school. My babies are learning things I certainly wasn't teaching them or ready for them to learn.

David laughs. “Got it. I definitely remember her. Be careful, babe. I'll see you at home. Eventually.”

I feel a pang of jealousy as I hang up. Not over Savannah's mother; well, not entirely. But a surge of emptiness that has nothing to do with David being attracted to other women and everything to do with the fact that we hardly see each other. Four kids, one dog, three cats, a hamster, a guinea pig, a mortgage we can barely afford—and two exhausted parents and partners, trying to hold it all together.

I'm blinking back tears and finally pulling out of the school's parking lot when my phone rings. Blindly, I reach for it on the passenger seat. “Yeah?”

“I'm going to fuck you tonight, you know. Long and slow and hard and deep.”

Heat suffuses my cheeks, still damp from my tears. “Are you now?”

“Yeah, baby. I miss you. I can't wait to be inside you.”

And just like that, he's gone.

“Was that Daddy?” Luke asks.

“Uh, no,” I mutter, pressing my thighs together as I drive. “That was
David
.”

I hear the boys giggle at Mommy's silly joke, but it's no joke. He may be Daddy to them, but he has a way of reminding me of just who he is to me.
David
. Mine. And I can't wait to see that guy.

* * *

By the time we get all the kids home, fed, bathed, homework checked, stories read, songs sung and last round of video games played, I think he's forgotten all about his wicked promise. I haven't, but there are still dishes to do and a load of laundry to haul upstairs. I can hear David puttering in the garage sorting the recycle bin to go out to the curb as I walk past the door to the laundry room and my anticipation quickly turns to annoyance.

I stomp up the stairs, dropping panties and socks as I go and bending to retrieve them, when I hear his voice and feel the slap of his hand on my bottom.

“Nice ass, baby. I can't wait to see it naked.”

And—boom—just like that, I'm right back in the car, with his voice in my ear and my panties dampening. I can't see him under the cascade of my hair as I'm bent over on the stairs, precariously balancing a laundry basket on my hip, but I can hear the inflection in his soft-spoken voice. His tone isn't playful; it's serious as a heart attack.

When he says, “Give me that laundry basket and get your cute ass to bed,” I don't argue. I hand him the basket and hightail it down the hall, turning a mother's ear to each of the closed doors along the way. All is quiet and peaceful. For now.

He follows me and closes the bedroom door behind him, locking it. The laundry basket is tossed in the corner, clothes tumbling out, but I don't care and I can tell by the way he's not even noticing the mess that he'll be happy to live out of the basket if it means we get down to the business.

The clothes come off quickly, silently. I'd say we have this thing down to a science, but “science” suggests there's no emotion, no passion, it's just another chore to accomplish. And, oh my, it isn't that at all. It's heat and fire and the way he's watching me strip off my capris while I'm studying the hair on his forearms as
he unbuttons the top couple of buttons of his shirt before he gets impatient and pulls it over his head like one of the kids would. But I'm not thinking about the kids. Or the laundry. Or the dog who is whining at the door because she hates to be locked out of our room. I'm only thinking about him—this man of mine—and how it's going to feel when he presses me into the mattress, pinned at my hands and my hips by his fingers entwined with mine and his cock buried inside me.

We're naked in under a minute, but it's too long. I need him. He needs me. We tumble down to the bed sideways and I hook my leg around his hip and draw him closer. He's hard, of course, his erection freed from the confines of his jeans and underwear now and nudging my belly. I'm wet and hot already, no foreplay needed, but that doesn't stop him.

“Damn, baby, I've been thinking about this all day,” he mutters, licking along the rim of my ear before pressing his lips to my neck. “I've missed you so much.”

“Did Savannah's mother get you all riled up?”

He pulls back to look at me, see if I'm serious or just playing. Our fantasies go in all different kinds of directions sometimes, even to other partners. But I get so little of David these days, I'm not in the mood to play that game. I have no desire to share. I want him all to myself right now.

“You're not serious?” he asks, determining from my expression that I'm not looking for a fantasy.

I shake my head, not trusting my voice but needing to say something. “No, not really. You don't have any more time than I do for—”

“It's not about time,” he says, his voice rough. “You're it, babe. You know that. Just you and me—” He gestures toward the closed door. “And the rest of our tribe. That's all I want. All I've ever wanted.”

As if to make his point, he pushes against me, his rigid cock a warm, insistent reminder that he does, in fact, want me. Right
now
.

I laugh. I can't help it. It's probably louder than it should be, given the sleeping children just down the hall, but sometimes I need to hear him say what he is saying now. Remind me of what I already know.

“Yeah, I know,” I mutter, my cheeks flushing from embarrassment rather than desire. “I just miss the alone time with you. It's just been—”

“Crazy lately,” he finishes for me, twirling my nipple between his fingers. “Yeah, I know. We need to work on that. Farm the kids out to their friends and spend some quality time together making up for lost time.”

He tweaks the other nipple for good measure and I can feel myself slipping into a head space that will make rational conversation impossible. But still, I have to add, “It's not just me, right? You feel the same way?”

His mouth follows the path of his fingers, sucking and nibbling my nipples until they are aching and hard. “What do you think?” he mumbles, his mouth full of my flesh.

“I think you'd better do something with that hard-on before I lose what's left of my mind.”

He drags my leg higher up on his hip, the broad tip of his cock nudging my wetness. “Oh really? And what happens when you lose your mind?”

I use my weight as leverage to roll him over on his back, his erection slipping into me as if that's where it is meant to be. And it is. This is home. His and mine. We're home. I seat myself more firmly and rock back.

“I take over,” I say, breathless with the anticipation of pleasure. “And you are helpless to do my bidding.”

It's his turn to laugh, a full-bellied laugh that causes his cock to jerk inside me and make me catch my breath. A hint of things to come, so to speak, even while we're still caught between the realities of life and our own intense need for each other. I clench my thighs around his hips and grind on his cock, enjoying every sensation.