Body Heat (25 page)

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Authors: Susan Fox

BOOK: Body Heat
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The road got twisty then, and he had to slow down. They were nearing a place where there was a pretty meadow by a stream. All you had to do was hop a wooden fence. It was someone’s private property, but no one would be hanging around at this time of night. When he got Maura in that meadow in the moonlight, he’d do his best to make his fantasies come true.
Oh, yeah, it was going to happen. The more he slowed the bike, the more touchy-feely Maura got. Her hands were roaming his chest, exploring his anatomy. Then she headed south again, resting one hand on his belt buckle.
Yeah, baby, go for it,
he urged her silently, slowing the bike even more.
One finger ventured to the top of his fly. Another joined it, then the first one moved down farther. The fingers stopped. She had touched the tip of his erection.
He held his breath. The woman sure knew how to torture a guy.
As if she’d suddenly made up her mind, she moved her whole hand and cupped him with her palm.
He sucked in another breath.
She squeezed experimentally and he smothered a groan.
She took her hand away and he breathed again. Then she ran a fingernail down his fly and up again.
“Oh, Jesus,” he gasped.
She stopped. “Sorry.” Her lips were so close to his ear he felt her warm breath. Teasingly, she said, “My hand slipped.”
“Then let it slip again, would you?” He grabbed her hand and placed it, palm-down, against him.
He imagined her sliding down his zipper, extracting his dick. The cool night air, her hot hand pumping him—
Jesus Christ! Now there was a recipe for an accident. She was doing a fine job of making him lose his concentration. Regretfully, he eased her hand to safe territory, and a few minutes later he pulled off on the side of the road.
When he shut off the engine, Maura slid off, stumbling a little. He caught her arm, steadied her, then climbed off, too. He took off his helmet, experiencing the usual jolt of going from noise to silence. Although, as his ears adjusted, of course the night wasn’t silent. Leaves rustled; an owl hooted.
Maura took off her helmet, too. “Why did you stop?” Her voice sounded loud against the stillness. She hushed it down to almost a whisper. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“There’s a place I know. Think you’ll like it.” He took both their helmets, then pushed the bike off the road and hid it behind bushes.
She stood by the side of the road, stretching. Her neatly tucked hair had gotten messed up by the helmet and, without asking, he pulled out the pins until it all tumbled down in a soft, tangled mass.
She finger-combed it. “I must look a total mess.”
Out here, there was no city light in the sky, just moon and stars. Her pale face with its perfect features glowed, and her tousled hair gleamed, more silver than gold tonight. “You look beautiful.”
She ducked her head, then suddenly flicked her hair and looked back up at him. Staring straight into his eyes, she said, “So do you.”
Oh, man. Not that he liked the idea of being beautiful, but he got what she meant and loved that she’d said it.
She gazed expectantly at him, and he knew she was waiting for a kiss. And he needed to give it to her. But not here, on the side of the road where someone might come along. Not here, when what he really hoped was that once they got going, they wouldn’t want to stop.
“Come on.” He held out his hand.
She slipped hers into it like it belonged there. “Come where?”
Come all around me. And then, just when you start to relax, I’ll make you do it all over again.
Chapter 14
S
truggling to control his body, Jesse said, “We’re gonna hop a fence.”
“We’re trespassing?”
“Got a problem with that?”
She reflected a moment, then gave a soft giggle. “Not if they don’t catch us.”
“I’ve created a monster. What happened to Ms. By-the-Book?”
“I’m reading a different book tonight.”
And it was the only book in the world that he’d ever liked.
He started to tug her in the direction of the fence, but she pulled back, stopping him so he turned to look at her.
“Maura?”
“Jesse?” Her eyes were huge, almost pleading. “This is a fantasy, right?”
A fantasy come true. “Damn right.”
“You won’t let it end too soon?”
God, she really was into this, as turned on as he was. “Hell, no.”
This time, when he tugged her hand, she hurried along beside him. He clambered over the fence, then helped her over. The meadow was as pretty as he remembered, the grass as soft. “Kick off your shoes,” he said, unlacing his sneakers and pulling them off, then stripping off his socks.
She slipped out of her shoes and wriggled her toes sensuously in the grass. “Oh, heaven. That feels so good. Oh, yes, I know this fantasy.” She glanced around and murmured something that sounded like, “But where’s the cat?”
He was about to ask her to repeat what she’d said, when she crossed to the bank of the stream, dipped her toes in, then quickly pulled back. “Too cool for wading.”
“I didn’t bring you here to go wading.”
“No?” she teased. “Then what did you bring me here for?”
“Oh, you know. To sit and talk,” he teased back.
“Talk?” She wandered back toward him, looking puzzled.
“You know when a guy says ‘talk,’ he really means other stuff, right?”
“Men do have their own mysterious language.”
He chuckled. “Take off my jacket, Maura. I’ll keep you warm.”
While she obeyed, he stripped off his T-shirt.
She gaped, then said breathlessly, “ ‘Talk’ means taking your clothes off?”
He spread the T-shirt on the grass. “Don’t have a blanket.” He beckoned for her to hand him the jacket, and spread it, too.
Her gaze roamed all over his torso, and he could tell she liked what she saw. Women always did, but tonight Maura was the one who counted. In fact, since he’d met her, she was the only one who counted. Was he crazy to think there might be something real, something special, between them?
Jeez, what was wrong with him? He was out here alone with a gorgeous woman—a woman who’d told him not to let the fantasy end too soon, which meant not before she climaxed. And he was going all girly, thinking about
feelings
?
He plunked himself down on the grass and patted the cast-off clothing.
She eased herself down, looking nervous now, like he’d thrown her off balance by whipping off his shirt. But hell, if she wanted an orgasm, they had to get naked.
Still, Maura was different from other women he’d known. He knew she had a passionate side, but sometimes she seemed almost innocent. She dated guys who took her dancing and gave her champagne, yet it seemed she didn’t trust a man to give her great sex, to make her come.
Don’t let the fantasy end too soon
. And he’d promised it wouldn’t.
He wasn’t a champagne kind of guy, but he did know about sex. He’d make this good for her.
Despite the way she’d groped him, now she was giving off signals that said she didn’t want to be rushed. So, not touching her, he said, “I’m glad you came out with me tonight.”
“It’s been wonderful. I was wrong about bike riding.” The tip of her tongue licked her lips. “And wrong about you.”
He separated a strand of her wavy hair and curled it around his finger. Then he tugged her toward him, and she came.
He touched his lips to hers. God, she was sweet. He wanted to dive in and devour her, but forced himself to ease back. “I can’t believe you don’t have a serious boyfriend.”
“The men I meet are perfectly nice, but . . .” She shook her head. “And you, Jesse? There’s really no special woman in your life?”
Virginia Canfield had asked him the same question earlier tonight. The truth was, the only woman he’d really thought of as special was Maura. He shook his head. “No. I’ve dated—”
“I bet you have,” she broke in.
He shrugged. “Yeah. But just casually. And no one in the last two or three months.” He framed her face with his hands and leaned closer.
She gave a little sigh and leaned forward, too, resting her hands on his chest.
The scent of gardenia teased his nostrils with its sultry fragrance as he pressed his lips to hers, more insistently this time. He nibbled her bottom lip, sucking bits of it in and out of his mouth and pressing his teeth gently into her flesh. And then, when his tongue licked the crease between her lips, she parted them and opened for him.
He slid his tongue inside and hers met it, hesitantly at first, then eagerly, passionately.
Instantly, he was hard.
And harder still when her soft hands began to explore his naked torso. Shoulders and upper arms first, then growing bolder, her fingers tangling in the wiry hair on his chest, rubbing over the nubs of his nipples. Not squeezing, just brushing over tentatively, the way she’d first touched his fly. Getting the feel of him?
When he touched the button at the neck of her blouse, she didn’t stop him, so he slipped it through the buttonhole. She was sitting upright, leaning slightly toward him with her legs tucked together to one side, a little prim despite the heat of her kisses, despite the erotic scent of gardenia.
He was in charge and she was waiting to see what he’d do. Though his body urged him to move this along, he needed to bring Maura with him. To give her pleasure.
She sat very still as he continued to undo buttons. He didn’t mean to touch her naked flesh, not yet, but his thumb grazed her stomach and she shivered. When all the buttons were undone, he slowly parted the front edges of her shirt, sliding them back to reveal the woman inside.
His breath caught in his throat. She was wearing a bra straight out of Victoria’s Secret. Lacy and sexy as all get-out. Her skin was ivory and the bra was a couple shades darker. Pale pink, maybe. He couldn’t tell in this light, and who cared anyway?
“Lie down.” His voice came out huskier than usual.
Silently, she obeyed. She didn’t touch him, just gazed up, looking nervous and expectant.
He bent to drop a kiss on her lips. Then he kissed the hollow of her throat, the ridges of her collarbones, the soft flesh just above the cups of her bra.
“It opens . . .” Her voice squeaked. She cleared her throat and began again. “It opens in the front.”
Thank God. She wanted him to open it. He flicked the clasp, took an anticipatory breath, then spread the bra apart. Her breasts were as beautiful as he’d fantasized them: small, firm, rosy-tipped, with taut nipples. He palmed one breast in each hand, cupping them reverently. Maura, this was Maura, her nipples all beaded up just for him.
He bent to breathe air on one of those buds, then moistened it with his tongue. He licked, sucked, trying to be gentle.
Her body shifted and she pressed up against his mouth, silently asking for more.
He gave it to her, then turned his attention to the other nipple, cupping the first breast warmly in his hand as he teased the other with his mouth.
She moaned and he returned to her mouth, to kiss her as passionately as he knew how, and she kissed him back fervently.
When he touched the waistband of her pants, she didn’t stop him, so he undid the button and slid down the zipper.
She lifted her lower body so he could slide the pants down, and he carefully pulled them all the way off, leaving tiny panties. Her legs were long and lovely. Even her feet were elegant. One day he would massage them, nibble them, see if he could bring her to orgasm just by playing with her feet. Not tonight, though. There were more important body parts to explore.
He trailed his fingers up the inside of her legs, heading for, but just bypassing, the triangle of lace covering her sex.
“Wait a minute,” she murmured, then she sat up and peeled the blouse and bra off her shoulders.
When she lay back down, all he could do was stare. Naked but for the triangle of lace, she was a moon goddess. His goddess, to worship.
Sex had always seemed easy to him, lusty and natural. His partners were always satisfied. But now he felt such a strange mix of feelings. He wanted to bury himself deep inside Maura and have mind-numbing sex, yet he wanted to caress her tenderly, let her know how much he cared for her. Yes, he cared. Cared for the woman inside, as well as the perfect body. But he couldn’t tell her. This was too new, and they were too different. He had no idea what tonight meant—for either of them.
Enough, for now, that they were here, like this. That she wanted him.
“You’re so beautiful, Maura. I’m scared to touch you.”
“Oh, Jesse, touch me. Please.”
To have Maura aroused and begging his touch made his swollen dick pulse. “Where?” he murmured. “Where do you want me to touch you?”
“Everywhere.”
He stretched out beside her, leaning across her body so his chest just touched her breasts, and he slanted a kiss across her lips. His erection was painfully hard, escaping his cotton boxer-briefs and pressing against coarse denim. But he didn’t want to rush things, didn’t want to be selfish and leave her behind.
He concentrated on her face, kissing her eyes until they closed, then watching them pop open again as he tickled her eyebrows with his tongue. He traced the line of her nose, stroked across her lips, nibbled that stubborn jaw. Slid down and flirted with her nipples again, watching as her pelvis began a dance that told him, clear as words, what she was feeling inside.
His tongue traced the center of her body down to her navel, circled it, slid down again, to the edge of the lacy band of her one remaining garment. He took her waist in his hands, using his thumbs to caress downward, sliding along her hips, then across the lacy triangle of her panties. He felt the springy curls of hair, the firm mound underneath. His index finger trailed farther, to the damp silky strip that ran between her legs.
She started, then subsided, but he felt the tension in her body. This time it wasn’t the tension of arousal, he thought, but of anxiety. Didn’t she want him to do this? Was he moving too quickly, or not quickly enough? Not touching her in the right way? He’d promised her an orgasm, and he’d always cared about pleasuring his partners, but never before had it been this important.
He stroked cautiously along the strip of fabric, and suddenly her muscles relaxed and she moaned. She began to move against his hand, her body telling him exactly how she wanted to be touched as she squirmed and pressed against him.
God, he wanted to be inside her. But he was fascinated by her body, by her reactions, and he sensed she was close. He couldn’t leave her now, not while her body cried out for release.
He glanced at her face, saw her eyes squeezed shut and a look of intense concentration. Her thighs were spread wide, and she pressed upward against his fingers as he stroked a little harder now, a little faster. Through drenched silk, his thumb found her swollen nub and teased it.
Her hips moved in a private rhythm, and little moans came out of her mouth.
Then, “Oh, Jesse!” and her body froze for a second. Froze, then surged against him, bucking and throbbing. He nestled his palm close, holding her through the spasms.
Jesus, but he wanted to come, too. Just watching her, touching her, feeling the moist heat of her crotch as she throbbed against his palm, had brought him so close to the edge he could barely hold on.
He became aware he was sucking in air in great panting breaths, just like she was.
“Jesse?”
“Yes?”
“That was amazing. But . . .”
“What?”
“Don’t you want . . . I mean, don’t you want to uh, take off your jeans and . . .”
“Oh, yeah.”
“What’s keeping you, then?”
He gave a ragged chuckle. “God knows.” He sprang to his feet, wrestled the button through the buttonhole, and hauled down the strained zipper. He struggled to get his legs out of his jeans and realized she had sat up and was staring up at him, her eyes huge. He glanced down, saw the huge erection busting out of the top of his underwear.
Should he strip off his boxer-briefs, or would that be rushing things? Hell, he was supposed to be good with his hands; he was supposed to know what he was doing. It wasn’t like he’d never had sex before. But this, it was different. Maura was different, and that made things great, but a hell of a lot scarier.

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