Deep Down (Lockhart Brothers #1) (24 page)

BOOK: Deep Down (Lockhart Brothers #1)
11.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I laid back, grabbing two fistfuls of his flannel to pull him down with me. But he stayed frozen in place several feet above me.

Confused, I lowered my brows and was about to ask him what was up when he wrapped his hands around my hips, picking me up as he laid down and then set me on top of him.

“That was an impressive move,” I said, grinning.

“You need to be on top.”

His expression was filled with reverence as he looked up at me. He wanted this to be good for me, but he didn’t feel sorry for me. I marveled at his ability to still make me feel sexy when he couldn’t even be on top of me.

“Reed Lockhart,” I said softly, reaching for the top button on his flannel. “I love you so much.”

He closed his eyes as I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it open. When I laid down on him and felt his hardness against me, I moaned and pressed my hips against his.

I kissed him and he slid his hands up my back, pulling my shirt up and then off over my head. My black satin bra was simple. But his gaze made me forget it was from the Walmart Clearance rack. I felt like the sexiest, most powerful woman in the world.

His hands moved slowly and deliciously over every inch of my skin. When he unclasped my bra and circled his thumbs on my nipples, his touch feather-light, I sat up and arched my back.

The friction of him against my core was sending waves of warm pleasure to every one of my nerve endings. I pressed his hands against my breasts, a cry escaping my lips when he squeezed them gently.

“Oh, God,” I said, my voice hoarse. “More.”

He wrapped his arms around my back and sat up, flicking his tongue over one of my nipples. He gently squeezed one breast while licking and sucking the nipple of the other. My mouth hung open in an unending gasp and I wound my fingers into his hair.

By the time he finally unbuttoned my jeans, I was so desperate for more of him that I stood up and wiggled out of them. His small smile sent a wave of confidence through me. That, and the erection straining against his jeans, which was
not
small.

Climbing onto the bed between his legs, I unbuttoned the fly of his jeans. He groaned when my fingers brushed over his erection, so I pulled his jeans down enough to stroke it more thoroughly.

“Ivy,” he said in a low, strained voice. “Shit . . . that’s good.”

I felt his legs tense beside me. When I gripped the waistband of his jeans to pull them down, I didn’t realize I had his boxers, too. His erection sprang straight up into the air and I gasped, both impressed and horrified.

When I climbed back up to straddle him this time, he wrapped his palms around my ass, pulling me against him.

“Lay on your back for me,” he said. I leaned down and kissed him before sliding off his lap and doing as he asked.

This time he was the one climbing onto the foot of the bed. He kneeled there and picked up one of my legs, setting it on his shoulder. For a few seconds, he just looked at me as he slowly ran his hand from my ankle to my thigh.

“Remember what I said about talking to me?” he said.

“It feels good,” I said, the words coming out in a gasp. “So good, Reed.”

His eyes darkened as his mouth moved to the side of my foot, which he kissed gently. The brush of his stubble against the delicate skin there made me jump at the same time I moaned.

“Oh, God,” I said, panting. “Good. It’s good.”

He kissed his way to my ankle, and I closed my eyes, taking in the sensations coursing through me. When I felt a soft brush against the fabric of my panties between my legs, my eyes flew open and my back arched off the bed.

“Wet,” Reed said, sounding satisfied.

I wanted to ask him to touch me there again, but instead I gripped two fistfuls of the quilt on the bed as his lips trailed up my calf to my knee, which he kissed for what felt like a full minute.

My body was on fire by the time he made it to my inner thigh. I was writhing on the bed, not caring how shameless and out of control I looked. I
was
out of control, and it was sublime.

Reed hooked his fingers around my panties and pulled them down excruciatingly slowly, his lips following the decent of my panties down my thighs.


Damn,
Ivy,” he muttered, staring between my legs. “You’re so much more beautiful than you were in my fantasies.”

I tried to close my legs, self-conscious about the reddish curls his eyes were fixed on. But he held my knees, not allowing me to hide myself from him.

“I can . . . shave,” I said softly. “I should have.”

He shook his head. “You’re perfect. And really fucking hot. Don’t shave.”

When he picked up my foot and kissed my ankle again, I cried out with exasperation.

“Something wrong?” he asked, amused awareness in his tone.

“No . . . I don’t know. I just want more.”

“More what?”

“I want you to touch me,” I said, sounding desperate.

“Where?”

“Reed . . . you know.”

I gathered my confidence and moved a hand between my legs, running a finger down my seam. “Here.”

His lips parted as he watched me. When he kissed his way up my thigh this time, he wasn’t so gentle. My back arched off the bed when I felt his warm breath between my legs.

I was expecting his fingers, so the warmth of his mouth on me made me cry out loudly.

“Reed! I don’t know if I can take that.”

He scooped his hands beneath my hips and held them in place. When his tongue touched me, I thought I might explode from the deep wave of sensation that swept through me.

Words eluded me. I just gasped and panted as his tongue explored me. The pleasure built, and I was close to climaxing. I’d wanted to wait for sex, but this was too good to stop.

I was seconds away when he stopped and I groaned with frustration.

“I’ll finish you that way later,” he said, kissing my stomach. “I promise.”

He reached for his jeans on the floor, fishing a condom out of a pocket. I watched him rip it open with his teeth and roll it on, his silhouette dim but distinguishable in the darkness.

My body was humming with arousal. It was hard to remember what I was afraid of in this moment. Reed laid down on his back and put his hands around my hips, guiding me on top of him.

“It’s all you, baby,” he said in a low tone. “Take as much of me as you want.”

“I don’t know . . . how to do this.”

“Just relax.” He laid a hand on my stomach and ran it up to my breasts, cupping them one at a time.

He wrapped his other hands around my hip, and the feel of his hands on my skin incited me again. I lowered myself toward him and he guided me to the right spot with his hand on my hip.

The brush of him against my opening made me gasp with pleasure, but as I slowly sank onto him, my gasp turned into a sharp inhale. I stopped, taking a second to adjust to the fullness of him inside me.

“Fuck,” he mumbled in a strained tone. “You feel so damn good, Ivy.”

I lowered myself a little more and he gripped my hip tightly before releasing me and reaching for the wrought iron rails on the headboard. With a ragged exhale, he grabbed two rails, his body tense beneath me.

“Is this okay?” I asked tentatively.

“It’s incredible. I can’t keep from taking control unless I put my hands here. Don’t stop.”

I rocked my hips, moving myself up and down slowly at first, and then at a steady, more confident pace.

Reed groaned every time I sank onto him. Knowing my body turned him on aroused me as much as the sex did.

I moaned loudly as the hot ache inside me built, moving faster.

“Grab the headboard,” Reed said, his voice strained. “Let go of your inhibitions, baby. You feel so fucking good.”

I reached for the top rail of the headboard and wrapped my hands around it, bracing myself so I could ride him harder and faster.

From his groans, I was sure Reed was in exquisite pain as he held on to his orgasm. My own started taking over and I cried out his name and gripped the rail.

“I love you so much, Ivy,” he said, sitting up and wrapping a hand around my shoulder. He pulled my hips down against his as we came together in a mix of frantic cries and groans.

I collapsed onto my side, panting hard.

“Jesus,” Reed said, blowing out a breath. “That was fucking amazing.”

“It was. I didn’t know it would feel like that.”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to come the first time. That was so hot.”

“That was my first orgasm that wasn’t from touching myself,” I admitted.

Reed kissed me, slow and soft. “First of many.”

In high school, I’d been naïve enough to think I was in love with Levi. But this deep, all-encompassing fullness in my heart was true love. I was feeling it for the first time with Reed, and I hoped it would last.

Our weekend passed in a haze of lovemaking, amazing food and wine. On the flight home, I rested my hand on Reed’s thigh and stared out the window. Our time together had been dreamlike, but I was looking forward to getting home to Noah.

I was content for the first time I could remember. It was a delicious, full feeling. I’d known Reed was worth opening up for, but this was beyond anything I’d hoped for. Love had a magic all its own and I wanted to live under this spell forever.

I PUSHED OPEN THE
diner’s back door, breathing hard. The familiar smells of bacon grease and coffee greeted me as I grabbed my apron from its hook and put it on while running across the kitchen.

As soon as I walked from the kitchen to the floor, I scanned the room and found Margie. She was taking orders at the counter so I stood to the side and waited for her to finish.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said.

“It’s fine. Everything okay?”

“We couldn’t find one of Noah’s shoes. We searched the whole apartment and I was about to take him to daycare in socks and flip flops when I found it in one of the kitchen drawers.”

“What a rascal,” Margie said, grinning.

“Yeah, he was pretty amused. I think he’d forgotten about hiding it in the drawer because he seemed as surprised as me when I found it.” I looked around the crowded dining room. “I’ll take my usual tables.”

Margie nodded toward the kitchen. “Got a second?”

“Sure.” I followed her through the doors and she gave me a concerned look. We were alone except for Gene, who was absorbed in cooking on his wide grill.

“Everyone’s kind of in shock,” Margie said. “Chuck Ashley was arrested yesterday evening. Charged with raping his stepdaughter Chloe. She’s sixteen. Apparently he was videotaping it, so the evidence is solid.”

My stomach dropped to the floor. “That’s terrible,” I said, hoping Margie wouldn’t see just how deeply the news was upsetting me.

“Yeah. Chuck’s our banker. He’s on the school board. I never would’ve thought someone like him was capable of this.”

I laughed humorlessly. “Margie, you can’t judge something like this based on those things. There are hidden monsters all over the place.”

“It’s an awful shame. Things like this don’t happen much in Lovely.”

“Does the girl have anyone there for her?”

Margie nodded. “From what I heard, her mother didn’t know what was going on and she’s shocked, but trying to support her daughter.”

“That’s good.”

Squaring her shoulders, Margie looked out the windows in the double doors that separated the kitchen and dining room. “We need to get back out there. I just wanted you to know what the talk’s about this morning.”

The diner was abuzz with the news. At every table, the conversation was about Chuck and his stepdaughter. Some people claimed they weren’t surprised, others commented on the low-cut dress Chloe had worn to a recent dance and another group said Chuck would burn in hell for what he’d done.

Every conversation grated on my nerves. If the allegations were true, this girl’s life had been changed forever. It wasn’t right for strangers to be discussing her violation over coffee and eggs.

But if I’d learned anything in my twenty two years, it was that the world had plenty of people who couldn’t care less about what was right.

REED’S SECRETARY LENA NODDED
at me as I walked past her desk. She was always cordial, but I sensed her disappointment every time I came by the office to see Reed, probably because she was the sister of his ex.

Other books

George Stephenson by Hunter Davies
Christmas in Bruges by Meadow Taylor
Short Stories 1927-1956 by Walter de la Mare
Clair De Lune by Jetta Carleton
People of the Raven (North America's Forgotten Past) by Gear, W. Michael, Gear, Kathleen O'Neal
Sloane by V. J. Chambers
The True Deceiver by Tove Jansson