Down to You (15 page)

Even as he speaks, his hands are skimming the
outsides of my thighs, sliding under the band of my panties. He
pauses. Maybe he’s waiting for me to tell him to go. Maybe he’s
rethinking what he’s about to do. I have no idea because I don’t
know who’s in my bed. And at the moment I don’t care. I want both
Cash and Nash. They both come with their own brand of trouble.
Maybe
not knowing
which one I’m giving in to will be a good
thing.

For tonight, I don’t care. I don’t think. I
only want.

I feel his hands turn and his fingers curl
around the elastic of my panties. He pauses a second time. I wonder
again what he’s thinking and what I can do to make him continue. My
answer is to lift my hips off the bed. I hear air hiss through his
teeth before he drags my panties down my legs. It must’ve been the
answer he was looking for.

My chest is heaving with excitement when I
feel his hands again, gliding up the insides of my thighs, pushing
my legs apart. He puts one knee on the bed between mine and leans
down, pressing his lips to my stomach.

“All I can think about is what you taste
like,” he murmurs, his tongue dipping into my navel making my
muscles clench in anticipation. “And what you feel like.” I feel
his palm cup me between my legs. I spread my thighs further. I’m
rewarded with pure bliss when he slides a single finger inside me.
He groans. “Oh my God, you’re so wet.” He pushes another finger
into me. “All this for me,” he whispers, moving his fingers in and
out as I raise my hips to meet him.

His lips move down my belly and I feel his
shoulders settle between my legs. His warm breath tickles me just
before I feel the first stroke of his hot tongue. My back arches
off the bed. “Mmm, even sweeter than I imagined,” he moans, his
fingers still moving inside me.

With lips and tongue, he licks and sucks
until I feel the familiar tension of an orgasm building inside me.
My hips move against him, grinding against his mouth as his fingers
penetrate me harder and harder, faster and faster.

I fist my fingers in his hair, holding him to
me when the world breaks apart. Light and heat explode behind my
eyes and I cry out. I feel his hands come around my hips to hold me
still and he finishes me off, burying his hot, wet tongue inside
me, licking me from the inside.

My pulse is throbbing in every part of my
body when I feel him move up to pull my tank top over my head. I’m
limp beneath his hands when they cup my breasts, teasing the hard
points of my nipples.

He draws one into his mouth, gently nibbling
it with his teeth, intensifying the waves of pleasure coursing
through me. I raise my hands to his shoulders and feel only smooth
skin. He’s not wearing a shirt.

I thread my fingers through his hair when he
moves his head to my other breast. He teases and taunts it as
well.

He moves again and his lips are on mine.

His tongue slips into my mouth to tease mine,
licking at it. I draw his tongue into my mouth and close my lips
around it, sucking gently. When I release it, I hear his hoarse
whisper. “See how good you taste?” I cup his face and lap up the
wetness from around his mouth, from down on his chin. He groans
loudly, his body moving against mine. “That’s right, baby. You like
that, don’t you?”

I hear his zipper followed by the rustle of
his pants as he moves to push them down his legs. I use my heels to
help him, reveling in the feel of his bare skin against the insides
of my thighs.

He flexes his hips and I feel the tip of his
hardness slip between my folds. He makes tiny movements, sliding
back and forth, stroking me with his body. “Just so you know,” he
says breathlessly, “I’m clean. Tell me you are, too, and that
you’re on the pill,” he begs.

“Yes,” I answer breathlessly, the only word
I’ve spoken since his arrival.

He comes up onto his elbows where he’s poised
above me. I can feel him looking down into my face even though I
know he can’t see me any better than I can see him. There is a
smile in his voice when he says, “Perfect!”

And then slides into me.

I feel like whimpering when he stops far
short of full penetration and pulls out again. I want to cry at the
loss. But I don’t have time. He moves in again, further this time,
letting me get used to his size before he pulls out once more. He
continues to tease me, each time filling me up a little further,
bringing me closer to the edge again, until I’m ready to
scream.

“Say it,” he whispers, taunting me with the
tip as he moves in and out in quick, short strokes. Reaching up, I
fist my fingers in his hair and pull his mouth to mine. I use my
lips and tongue to plead with him, to show him every ounce of my
desire. I sink my teeth into his bottom lip and I lift my hips,
hoping to bring him fully inside. But he pulls back, again only
giving me part of himself. “Say it,” he demands.

I’m panting with need, the threat of another
orgasm tightening my muscles as I squeeze his hips between my legs,
begging with my body. Still, he resists, never allowing his body to
move more than a few inches into mine before retreating. “Say it,”
he repeats a third time.

I lick a trail from the base of his throat
all the way to his ear where I force out between shallow breaths
the single word he wants to hear.

“Please.”

Bending his head, his mouth covers mine as he
drives his body deep into mine, stealing my breath. He gives me
every inch of length and girth as he moves violently within me,
stretching me tight over and over again, driving me closer and
closer to ecstasy.

His lips move over the skin of my face and
neck to the valley between my breasts. Blood pumps to my tingling
nipples when his mouth moves toward them. I arch my back, pressing
my chest toward him, begging for the feel of his hot mouth and wet
tongue. “Come for me,” he says softly, drawing my nipple into his
mouth and flicking it with his tongue. As if to punctuate his
request, he grinds his hips into mine and bites down on my nipple.
“Come for me, baby,” he growls again.

It’s all the motivation I need. Tightening
around him, I give in to my second orgasm, glorying in the friction
of his hips against mine as he rubs me into a wave of the purest
pleasure.

I’m breathless as he pounds harder into me. I
feel my body gripping his, milking it. His tempo increases with his
breathing until, suddenly, he stiffens. “Olivia,” he moans heavily,
coming and spilling heat and passion deep inside me.

His movements slow, but he remains buried
inside me, making the spasms of my body squeezing his even more
pronounced. We remain like that for a couple of perfect
minutes.

When neither of us has anything left to give,
he collapses onto me and we lay in a tangle of damp limbs and
heaving chests. With his weight braced on his forearms, he nestles
his face in the curve of my neck and presses a soft, wet kiss to
the skin beneath my ear. He says nothing, but his warm, heavy
breath dries it.

My heart is filled with emotion, my head is
spinning with questions and my body is throbbing in the aftermath.
There is so much to think about and worry over and contemplate, yet
it seems so very…unimportant. Conflict rages inside me. In a
thousand years, I would never have thought I could fall asleep like
that.

But I do.

********

Dawn is just breaking when I open my eyes.
Hot kisses and great sex are the first things that enter my
mind.

I look around at my empty room. There’s no
evidence of any naughty night time visitors. In fact, I might’ve
convinced myself I’d dreamed the whole thing if it weren’t for the
soreness I feel between my legs when I move.

I smile. It’s a pleasant soreness, one that
reminds me of the massive instrument that inflicted it.

Good God, did you just call it an
instrument?

I giggle. I can’t seem to help it. I’m happy.
Very happy. At least for the moment.

I should be tired, but I’m not. I feel
rejuvenated and ready to face the day.

“Maybe Ginger’s right. Maybe sex is actually
good for me,” I mumble into the quiet. The walls absorb the sound
and remind me that I have the place all to myself. Marissa is gone
for another couple weeks. That alone is reason to celebrate.

Thoughts of her bring me to thoughts of Nash.
What if it had been him that visited me last night? I hadn’t been
able to see clearly enough in the dark to identify whether the
delicious chest above me had a tattoo on it or not. How will I
know?

For a moment, I’m lost in memories of the
feel of smooth, taut skin beneath my fingertips, of rippling
muscles in long arms and broad shoulders, of slim hips clamped
between my thighs. Just the thought of that is enough to leave me
feeling damp and wanting.

Throwing off the covers, I head to the
shower. As I scrub and buff, I search my mind for clues that might
hint at which brother gave me such an incredible night. I think
they are both perfectly capable of making me feel that way and
nothing that happened seemed like something only one would do or
say. Especially say, as not many words were used.

I smile at the thought.

Not many words were needed.

Entry isn’t an issue. Cash has my keys, Nash
has Marissa’s. Attraction isn’t an issue. Both brothers have made
it very clear we have an intensely physical connection. Willingness
might be the only area there’s a discrepancy. Cash has made it very
clear he’s interested in a physical relationship with me. Nash, on
the other hand, is taken and he’s trying to do the right thing.

But then I remember it wasn’t Nash who
stopped us on the rooftop. If I hadn’t brought us to a halt, would
we have had sex up there, on a chaise lounge where Nash has
probably sat with Marissa?

The more I think, the muddier things get and
the more questions and concerns I develop. So I put it out of my
head. Surely I’ll be able to tell when I see Cash whether or not we
had sex.

Surely.

After dressing, I make my way into the
kitchen to brew some coffee. I’m surprised when I hear my phone
ring from my bedroom. I race to get it.

My stomach flutters when I see Nash’s name on
the lighted screen. What does such an early call mean? That he was
with me until a little while ago? Or he got a good night’s sleep,
which means he wasn’t here?

I slide my finger across the screen to answer
it.

“Hello?”

There’s a pause.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I’m actually making coffee.”

“Oh, good. I wouldn’t want to disturb you. I
assumed you’d have your alerts off and I’d get your voicemail. I
just wanted to make sure you saw the flowers I left.”

I’m a little deflated. That doesn’t sound
like something the guy who just explored my entire naked body with
his tongue might say.

“Yes, I saw them when I came in last
night.”

“Perfect. I just wanted you to feel free to
call me if you need anything while Marissa’s away.”

“Um, I will. Uh, thanks.”

“I’ll let you get back to your coffee then.
I’ve got to get to work. Early meetings.”

“Okay. Thanks for the flowers, Nash.”

“It was my pleasure, Olivia.”

I hear a smile in his voice. Don’t I?

Chills remain on my arms long after he hangs
up. Just hearing him say my name reminds me of the night before, of
that voice moaning my name as he was coming.

Only it obviously didn’t belong to Nash. It
belonged to his brother.

I’m not entirely surprised to find out it was
Cash. The whole scenario fits his character more than it does
Nash’s. Only a bad boy would come, uninvited, into a girl’s house
and wake her up to seduce her in her own bedroom.

And only a bad boy would think I wouldn’t
mind. I have to smile at that.

He’s got nerve. I’ll give him that.

But he was right. I didn’t mind. In fact, I
didn’t mind twice. And probably wouldn’t have minded a third and
fourth time if I hadn’t fallen asleep like a loser. It’s been a
while and I forgot how incredibly relaxing great sex is.

I’m just sitting down at the dining room
table to do some reading before class when my phone rings again.
This time the screen shows Cash’s name, but my reaction is the
same. My stomach flutters with excitement.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, gorgeous. You up?”

“Yep,” I say, unable to keep the grin from my
voice.

“So, your car is at my buddy’s shop. It’s
definitely the alternator.”

“Shit,” I mumble, my early-morning buzz
succumbing to the realities of owning a piece of crap car. “Any
idea how much something like that’s gonna cost me?”

“For you? Nothing. He owes me a favor.”

“I can’t let you do that, Cash.”

“I suppose you’re going to stop me?” he says
derisively.

“I’m being serious. That’s too much. I can’t
accept a gift like that.”

“You can and you will. Besides, don’t think
of it as a gift. You’ll be paying me back.”

My smile returns and my nerves sing with
exhilaration. I can’t wait to hear what he has in mind.

“Is that right?”

“Yep. Starting with an extra shift next week
if you can swing it.”

I’m disappointed again. That’s not nearly as
sexy as I expected it to be. After last night, surely he knows I’d
be more than happy to pay him back in any number of ways and
positions. Unless he’s not my late-night visitor after all.

What kind of a floozy doesn’t know who she
slept with the night before?

I roll my eyes.

And who uses the word floozy?

One name comes to mind. Tracey, my mother.
That’s her word.

Shaking my head, I get back to important
things. Like who spent part of last night tickling my ovaries.

As I think about it, the thing that bothers
me most is that neither guy is amorous enough this morning for me
to be able to accurately determine the culprit. How sad is
that?