Starlight (Peaches Monroe) (Volume 2) Paperback – September 2, 2013 (14 page)

He caught me in his arms, and as his skin connected with mine, I realized the water had cooled me, and I craved his heat. With one look into his brown eyes, I craved even more than his heat.

He asked, “What do you like to have after swimming?”

“Hot chocolate with mini marshmallows.”

“You’re in luck. I actually have the stuff to make that.”

I leaned over and slurped the water beads off his beautiful shoulder. Once I started, I couldn’t stop, and soon I was slurping my way up to his ear, sucking on his earlobe.

He growled with enjoyment as I gave him a nibble, then he steered me over to the side of the pool, so he could hang onto the tiled edge and grind against me.

We kissed, my legs wrapped around his waist again, then he said, “Would you like me to fuck you before, or after the hot chocolate?”

“How about after? I’m trying to practice my patience.”

“As you wish,” he said, in his best Westley-from-Princess-Bride voice.

For the second time, he jumped up and then slipped down and away from me, through the water. He surfaced, and started up the steps. Once out of the water, he picked up the two orange towels, holding one between his knees for himself, and holding the other one open for me to walk up to and get wrapped in.

I stepped up out of the pool and into his waiting arms.

“You make me feel pampered,” I said as he rubbed me dry with a towel for the second time since we’d met.

“It’s the least I can do for someone who makes me feel so happy.”

He gave me a quick kiss, then switched to drying himself.

Oh, Keith,
I thought.
You’re too good to be true.

Sure, the meditation stuff was kookier than a barn full of cuckoo clocks, but sweet mercy, the man was as thoughtful as he was gorgeous.

Following him back into the apartment, I tried not to think about how this short-term relationship of ours was doomed.

As we stepped inside and he pulled me into his arms and rained kisses all over my shoulders, I tried not to think about how a long-term relationship would be equally doomed—assuming he would even want one.

“I was promised hot cocoa,” I said, pushing him away playfully.

After a sly wink, he moved into the kitchen and started preparations.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Ten. I refused to blow out the candles at my birthday parties, so I’m only ten. Ask any grown-up. That’s how it works.”

“How old is your sister?”

“Old enough to manage the landscaping business on her own, just as soon as I catch my next big break.”

I sat on a kitchen stool and looked down, feeling worse than ever about him losing his big break.

“Maybe I’ll ask around on your behalf,” I said.

“I didn’t tell you about Milan, did I?”

I looked up, surprised by how upbeat he sounded, considering he’d been drinking when I got there.

“Flying scares me,” he said. “I actually turned down another job to do Peaches Monroe.” He laughed.

“Uh, to
do
me?”

Still laughing, he said, “Little did I know that doing Peaches would lead to doing Peaches.”

“Keep saying my name like that, and you won’t be doing anything tonight but listening to whale songs and playing a five-finger solo on the man-banjo.”

He stirred some hot cocoa mix into boiled water, in two matching red mugs.*

*The only thing better than hot cocoa is hot cocoa in a red mug.

He said, “I need to call my agent and do a little B-B-B, but I think I can still book the job. They really liked me.”

“What’s B-B-B?”

“Beg, Bribe, Blow. A great business plan for anything you want to do in life.”

“Gross.” I accepted my mug of cocoa and took a sip, inhaling the tiny marshmallows into my mouth. “Perfect. Tell me more about this other modeling job.”

He scrunched his face. “You’ll just find the details boring.”

“If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.” (Wow, I totally just quoted my mother there.)

Keith got a happy look, and started telling me about the clothing line. As he talked, some of the details flew over my head, but I discovered something beautiful. When Keith talked about this job, his face lit up the same way it did when he named the different tree species at the big garden.

I was relieved to see he wasn’t turning away from his life’s passion of gardening to do something his heart wasn’t into. He was really excited—about everything
but
the plane ride. He said the idea of facing his fear had scared him into drinking earlier that evening, but he assured me he was feeling better.

“Quite the day we’ve both had,” I said.

He took the empty mug from my hand and kissed my palm.

The stool I was on rotated, and he used my arm as a handle to spin me around, so my back was to the countertop. He knelt down on the hardwood floor at my feet and rested his chin between my knees, then looked up at me, a glint of mischief in his dark eyes.

I was still wearing nothing but the black underwear I’d worn in the pool, and my gleaming white thighs squished out on the stool, making me feel self-conscious, but I didn’t move or draw attention to my nervousness.

He kissed my knee, then rubbed his chin along the edge of my thigh. He’d shaved that morning, but had just enough stubble to accentuate his touch and make me shiver.

Inch by inch, he made his way slowly inward, toward my underwear. He pushed my legs apart with his chin, and when I wouldn’t budge, he grabbed my knees with both hands and helped me.

He was certainly right about one thing: his face did look even more gorgeous between my legs.

Once he reached my underwear, he extended his tongue and artfully licked all the way up, over the black fabric, still damp from the swimming pool.

“This is happening,” I moaned, leaning back against the countertop for support.

He continued to tease me, through my underwear, for several more minutes. After a while, it didn’t matter anymore that I had underwear on and his tongue wasn’t against my skin. I still felt him, still saw his gorgeous model face between my thighs, and the idea alone sent multiple waves of pleasure through me.

When he finally reached up to the waistband of my panties and started to tug them down, well, I’ve never gotten a pair of underwear off so quickly.

With my bare bottom back down on the seat, Keith pushed my knees together and moved back. He kissed the same knee as he’d started on, then rubbed his chin along my thigh the same way as before. We were starting over and doing the same thing again. Knowing what was coming next made the waiting more painful and delicious.

When his hot tongue finally hit my pink inner ridges, I couldn’t believe how good it felt. And how
right
, as if balance in the universe was being restored—like rain on Sunday night, after a blistering hot weekend.

He wrapped me up in his tongue and clutched me with his lips. I held my breath for an instant, when it was almost unbearable to not come yet, and when I started breathing again, I felt our energy entwine, like our bodies had in the pool.

He slowly pulled away again, kissing his way down my legs and to my knees, which were now sensitive to the point of being ticklish. I realized my arms were outstretched, my hands gripping the edge of the countertop like I was riding into battle. I shook out my hands and laughed nervously.

Keith bit my knee and gazed up at me with a playful expression.

“You bite me, I’ll have to bite you back,” I said.

“Promises, promises.”

“Trade spots with me and find out.”

“If your bite’s as mean as your bark?” he asked, laughing.

“Just get your man-shorties off and take a seat.”

I jumped off the bar stool and gasped in horror at the little puddle of saliva and whatnot sitting there. Keith pulled off his bathing suit shorts and gave the surface a quick swipe with the shorts. “No worries,” he said casually, like it was no big deal.

“About that,” I said, thinking about splashes.

He sat on the bar stool now, completely naked, and pulled me toward him using his foot as a hook. “C’mere. Kiss me some more. I really like it when you kiss me, and when you run your fingers through my hair.”

He was lower than me, seated as he was, and I bent down to kiss him. Everything felt different this way, like I had more control as the taller party.

As we kissed, our lips and tongues tangling, I thought about the thing I’d been meaning to mention—the fact that if I had an orgasm after a long build-up, it might be more than intense. It had only happened once so far, but a torrent of fluid, healthy and natural though it was for some women, could be upsetting if it was unexpected.

My hands moved up Keith’s thighs, my fingers moving through his leg hair to where his legs were nearly smooth, by his hips. I felt him shudder with anticipation as I traced back and forth along his hip creases with my fingertips. The heat of his cock let me know when my fingers got near it. We kept kissing, and I put the warning out of my mind. Strange and surprising things happen during sex all the time, and people keep banging away on each other.

I gripped him around the base with one hand, and he became very still, his mouth barely moving against mine. As I began to tug rhythmically, he breathed in deeply, his nostrils next to my skin cooling my upper lip with air flow.

“That feels so good,” he murmured.

“Do you want me to lick it like a lollipop?”

He groaned. “I think I have some more of those mini marshmallows. You could lick it for a bit and stick those all over to decorate it.”

I started laughing, and he held his arms tightly around me so I wouldn’t pull away.

“You act like an earth muffin, but you’re a sex freak,” I said.

“So? You act like a kitten, but you’re a tiger.”

I made an admirable attempt at purring, but the sound came out as more of a gurgle.

“Now you’re scaring me,” he said, his voice high-pitched with mirth.

“That was supposed to be a purr.”

He clutched me tighter and growled in my ear, “Get the marshmallows.”

I reached over his shoulder and grabbed the bag. When a sexy, naked man with a giant erection tells you to grab the mini marshmallows, you grab the mini marshmallows.

I got down on my knees on the floor before him and began kissing his knees, the same way he had kissed mine. He trembled slightly as I pulled his legs apart and moved into the V-shape gap. I nuzzled my face against his inner thighs, which smelled faintly of chlorine from the pool, but just musky enough to be exciting. I rubbed my chin across his sack, while watching the one-eyed tower looming above me.

I got the giggles for an instant (one-eyed tower, tee-hee), but then I ran my tongue up half the length of his shaft and got more serious. Being on my knees, looking up, I felt younger, and less experienced than I was. Feeling reverent, I lavished his cock with attention, running my fingertips gently around its ridges, and then my tongue.

I didn’t take him into my mouth, though, no matter how much his cock quivered with anticipation as I exhaled hot breath upon the head for a moment before returning to licking.

After a few minutes of this sweet torture, I nudged the bag of marshmallows at my knees and remembered them. I retrieved a handful, and then slowly started to work, like an artist making a sandcastle on the beach. The marshmallows ran up in a swirling line, starting from the base and ending at the tip.

“Wow,” I said when my masterpiece was complete. “It looks like a unicorn’s horn.”

Keith opened his eyes, looked down, and gasped. “That’s what you were doing?” He started to laugh. “I had my eyes shut the whole time. No wonder it smells like cotton candy down there.” He stopped laughing and frowned. “I’ll never be able to un-see this. I’ll be shooting a magazine spread, imagine marshmallows on everyone’s peckers, and lose it.”

“Look on the bright side. I love eating marshmallows, and the bag’s empty now.”

Smiling, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the counter.

I started at the top, engulfing him in my mouth along with the sugary treats. Candy or not, he seemed to appreciate this very much. To get the last ones around the base required deeper throating than I could manage, so I cheated them up with my fingertips.

Once the sweets were gone, I savored the salty taste of his skin, and the pulse of him in my mouth. He was so hard, so ready to burst, but he kept holding back. I wanted him to come, wanted to feel him splash in my mouth and moan as he lost control. With one hand on the base, I worked him strong and steady.

Gasping, he grabbed onto my shoulders with both hands and gently pushed me away.

I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “Come for me,” I said.

“Not like this. I want to be inside you, and I want to feel you come first.”

He slid off the bar stool, grabbed my hand to help me to my feet, and led me to the bedroom.

In there, where it was dark and intimate, with only the light coming through the doorway, he unfastened my pool-damp, black bra and held my breasts in both hands as he kissed my lips.

A moment later, we wordlessly moved to the bed. I got a condom and put it on for him as he lay on his side. Resting with his shoulders propped up on one elbow, he looked so relaxed and comfortable, so I got onto my back perpendicular to him and scooched down to lift my legs over his hips.

He nodded with approval and used his hand to guide himself into me. He used his free arm between my legs, finding my clit and working me as he stroked his length in and out.

Wouldn’t you know it, I barely had time to look up at the ceiling, close my eyes, and I was coming. I gasped and let out some noises to let him know, in case the shuddering deep inside my pussy around his cock wasn’t a big enough sign.

He let me finish coming, and then he changed positions, pushing my legs to fold them up against my torso as he climbed on top of me. With my knees folded over his upper arms near his elbows, I had nowhere to go, nothing to do but enjoy the sensation of him sliding in and out of me. He straightened his body like an arrow, his legs straight behind him, and all of his beautiful muscles did the thing they were supposed to do—allow him to fuck me like a superhero.