Edge (Gentry Boys #7) (16 page)

We kissed and teased and kissed some more.  It wasn’t enough.  I slid my hands under her shirt and rolled again until I had her pinned beneath me, my mouth moving to her neck to work the skin hard enough to make her suck in a gasp and dig her fingers into my back as her long legs wrapped around my waist. 

“Holy shit, look at that!”  The voice was young, male and too close. 

“Get a room kids,” his companion said and let out a wolf whistle. 

“Fuck,” I hissed as Roslyn’s legs fell from my waist. 

I couldn’t exactly be pissed off because it was Saturday morning on a public beach.  What the hell did I plan to do?  Have my way with her right here on the sand in broad daylight?

The two guys, who were probably about our age, laughed from a distance as they headed for the water with boards under their muscled arms. 

Roslyn eased out from underneath me and scooted away, brushing the sand from her clothes. 

“I think we’re about to get some more company,” she said, pointing to the distant staircase we’d descended from. 

About a dozen teenagers wearing identical yellow shirts from some local high school were running down the steps, probably part of some club or sport.  They were singing a song and at the end of every stanza would erupt in a collective ‘Hoo!’. 

I stretched, yawned, and tried not to stare too greedily at the full shape of Roslyn’s breasts under that stupid t-shirt. 

“You hungry?”  I asked as I started folding up blankets, in part to give my hyperactive dick a chance to calm down. 

“So hungry I could eat a cat,” she said as she grabbed the far corner of the blanket I was folding. “But I’ll settle for pancakes.” 

We found a nearby breakfast spot that specialized in tall mugs of liquefied green beans.  Luckily they also served whole grain pancakes with fruit so we ordered a couple of plates of those and mugs of a dark caffeinated concoction that was supposed to be some kind of tea. 

“Drink more tea,” ordered Roslyn as she pushed the cup across the table.  “You keep yawning.” 

I yawned again.  “Not sure there’s enough caffeine in the world to jump start this sorry ass machine right now.” 

She swallowed a bite of strawberry.  “Sorry.  I would have offered to take the wheel for a little while so you could rest but I never learned how to drive a stick.” 

“It’s fine,” I said and yawned again.  “Besides, I don’t need rest.” 

“That’s funny Conway because I do believe you’re about to face plant into your pancakes.”

I made a face.  “Not even close.” 

“Good. Because I’m sure I’m not strong enough to carry you out of here if you do.” 

I took a sip of tea.  It tasted like dirty rainwater laced with cigarette ashes.  There was something I’d been thinking about ever since we left the beach but I was a little worried about undoing this delicate new bond between us. 

“How about if we get a room?” I said as casually as I could. 

Roslyn tilted her head and looked at me strangely. 

“What?” she asked. 

“Eh, never mind.  Just a thought.”

“What was?  I didn’t hear you the first time.  You mumbled.” 

I cleared my throat and leaned across the table.  “I asked if you wanted to get a room.  A hotel room.  Something right on the beach, on my dime.“  I couldn’t read the expression on her face so I kept talking.  “We can hang out, we can sleep, we can order room service.” 

She looked utterly blank for a few seconds.  Then a playful grin crossed her face and she leaned forward.  “Is there anything else we can do?” 

In answer I reached under the table and pushed my hand between her legs.  She yelped and squeezed my hand between her knees. 

I took my hand away and gave her what I thought was a serious look. 

“No conditions, Roslyn.  No expectations.  I just want to be with you.” 

She stared at me for so long and in such silence I was sure I’d somehow said something wrong.  I was already trying to figure out how to backpedal from whatever mistake I’d unintentionally made when she set her fork down. 

“You kill me, Conway Gentry.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” 

“Then I didn’t say it right.”  She bit her lower lip and looked at me with shy vulnerability.  “I want to be with you too.” 

The first nice hotel we went to claimed there weren’t any beachside balcony rooms currently available but I solved that problem with two convenient hundred dollar bills.  So far I had tried to be discreet about the wad of cash I carried around but I could feel Roslyn watching with curiosity. I’d managed to skirt around her questions about what I did to make my way in the world.  I got the feeling she understood my various occupations weren’t the briefcase and tie variety and I hoped that wouldn’t be a problem. 

When we reached the room she made a mad dash for the balcony, sliding the doors open and letting the cool ocean breeze in. 

“That view,” she exclaimed, staring out at the ocean while I stared right at her. 

There were still bits of sand clinging to my back so I pulled my shirt off and draped it over a chair.  Roslyn turned around and her eyes roamed over my chest. 

“Think I might take a shower,” I said brightly.  “A few pieces of the beach don’t seem to want to let go.” 

She pulled the sliding glass door closed behind her and took a few steps in my direction, hugging her arms around herself. 

“Seems like that’s how we got into trouble last time.” 

I grinned broadly.  “I don’t remember any trouble.”

She smirked and abruptly grabbed the edges of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one smooth stroke.  Evidently she hadn’t switched her bra to match her loungewear.  It was black and lace and fucking fantastic. 

“You’re making this really hard,” she accused with a stern look and I recognized my own words.  I’d said them to her that morning, when I was half-heartedly trying to be a good guy.   

I dropped my pants in a flash, relishing the way her eyes widened. 

“I can tell,” I said, and let the sight of my stiff cock send the rest of the message. 

Even though I was crazy with lust we kept things PG-13 in the shower.  There was touching and kissing and soap but that’s all.  I didn’t want to rush through our next time and I was kind of enjoying all the teasing and the foreplay.  Usually I just went right for the target but with Roslyn I was learning there was something to be said for anticipation. 

Afterwards, she was standing in front of the vanity mirror, toweling off her long hair with a smile and wearing a robe with the hotel logo.  The fatigue that had kept me yawning over my pancakes was a distant memory.  As inviting as the bed looked, I could think of a lot more fun things to use it for than sleeping. 

I sat on the edge where I had a good view of Roslyn combing through her wet hair with her fingers.  She paused to tighten the loose belt on her terrycloth robe and then noticed that I was staring. 

“Stop that,” she complained with a cute blush. 

“Stop what?”

“Watching.  It makes me self-conscious. So stop.” 

“No.” 

She turned and leaned against the counter, facing me with a serious expression. 

“Lose the robe,” I ordered. 

She smiled.  “Lose the towel.” 

I stood, whipped the damn thing off and practically threw it across the room.

Roslyn had stopped smiling.  She pressed her lips together like she was nervous and kept her eyes on my face as her fingers loosened the terrycloth belt. The robe hung open and she took several slow steps in my direction, then allowed it to fall from her shoulders. 

“Gorgeous,” I told her, my voice catching a little. 

She waited beside the bed until I pulled the covers back.  As I eased her down to the cool sheets I fought the urge to immediately bury my face in her tits or between her legs.  I wanted to look at her first and so I did.  I looked for so long that she started to squirm so I took one finger and ran it softly down her body, starting with her delicate collarbone, down over her heart, between her full breasts, over the taut muscles of her belly, finally idling playfully over the entrance I was just about dying to breach. 

“Conway,” she moaned as she writhed, reaching for me. 

I loved the sound of my name on her lips, the way she sighed at my touch. I’d just about had enough of being gentle though.   

There was already a condom waiting on the nightstand because I wasn’t going to commit the same oversight twice. I slid it on as discreetly as I could with one hand while the other one kept working between her legs as she opened for me eagerly.  Without warning I pushed inside of her.  Hard.  She let out this gasping moan and clutched my arms.  After only about a dozen deep thrusts she was close to the brink but I didn’t want her going over, not yet.  I pulled out and teased her with the tip of my cock, gritting my teeth to stay focused and breaking a sweat from every pore.  Roslyn whimpered.  She bucked her hips in desperation.  She begged and spread her legs wider but I wouldn’t give her what she wanted until she said my name again.

“Please,” she cried, gripping my shoulders.  

In response I rotated my hips around and around, teasing the tip just inside as she quivered underneath me.

“Conway!” she yelled and I went wild, thrusting into her with every ounce of power I had. 

She came quickly, shuddering nonstop as the climax lasted and lasted.  Then when I couldn’t hold on anymore I followed her, gripping the headboard to push as deep as I could reach and hoping it wouldn’t be too much for her to take.  But she took it.  She took it and spread as wide as she could and shrieked from the power of a fresh orgasm. 

We panted together for a full five minutes before I tactfully disposed of the condom and switched the light off.  Now that I’d been spent I was starting to feel somewhat drowsy again.  Roslyn seemed pleased when I took her in my arms as soon as I returned to bed.  She snuggled against me and let out a happy sigh as I stroked her long hair and marveled over how well we fit together, how easy it was proving to be to feel close to someone. 

Almost dangerously easy. 

As if she’d heard my thoughts she moved on top of me and rested her chin on my chest. 

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” she whispered.  

“Baby.”  I kissed her.  “There’s no such thing.”   

ROSLYN

Conway had impeccable timing.  He called barely thirty seconds after I’d left work for the day and was on my way to the parking lot. 

“I was just thinking about you,” I said as I climbed into the front seat of my car. 

“I was thinking about you too,” he said, “but then Jackson yelled at me to get my hand off my dick and watch the road.” 

I laughed. “What road?”

“A big one.  With lots of unfriendly looking drivers.  People look pretty scary outside of Phoenix.”

“Conway, where are you?”

“Driving back to the valley from Tonopah.  That’s why I called.  Traffic’s being a filthy bastard and it looks like I’ll be a little late for dinner.” 

I almost asked him what he’d been doing way out on the west side but I choked the words off.  We’d been together for almost two months now and I still didn’t know a whole lot about Conway’s world.  He had admitted he was involved in street racing and gambling rings.  When I asked if I could come see him race sometime he looked almost comically alarmed and growled that he’d never want a woman he cared about to spend ten seconds in that kind of company. 

My stomach hurt when I thought about Conway being in any sort of danger, no matter how much he assured me that he wasn’t dumb enough to take on real trouble and knew how to get himself out of tight places before they turned sour.  I worried anyway. 

“That’s fine,” I said lightly.  “Now I’ll have time to get home, start dinner and make myself pretty for you.” 

He chuckled.  “That’s doesn’t require much effort.  You’re always beautiful and you know it.”   

“I like to goad you into saying it anyway.” 

“Then I’ll say it again.  You are so fucking beautiful, Roslyn.  No matter what you’re wearing. No matter what you’re doing. No matter if your hair is perfect or a tangled up mess.  No matter what time of day it is or what kind of mood you’re in.”

Somewhere in the background on Conway’s end I heard a disturbing gagging sound, followed by a hearty slap. 

“What’s that noise?  Is someone dying in your backseat?” 

“That was Jackson.  He didn’t appreciate the poetry of my sentiments but don’t worry.  I smacked him and he looks very sorry.  Actually maybe I shouldn’t have hit him so hard.  He’s writhing around in pain and I’m worried he might puke on my new floor mats.”    

“Pain my ass, you motherfucker,” I heard Jackson say but he was laughing. 

“Shut up,” Conway told him cheerfully, “or you’ll have to explain to Emily why you’re missing a testicle.” 

Their banter was all in good fun.  The two of them were good friends and I always felt better when Con had Jackson at his side.  Jackson was smart and loyal and apparently a pretty good boxer from what Emily had told me. 

Speaking of those two, Jackson and Emily were every bit as hot and heavy as Conway and I were these days.  They were with each other almost every night and the four of us frequently hung out together. It was amazing, watching my friend fall hard and fast.   It was almost as amazing as falling hard and fast myself.   

“Roslyn?” Conway said and I realized I’d gone completely quiet. 

“I’m here.”  I started my car and cranked up the air conditioner. 

“Just wanted to say that I can’t wait to see you.” 

My heartbeat quickened and I smiled.  “You saw me last night.” 

“And it was quite a night.  I’m looking forward to a faithful reenactment of those events.” His voice dropped and I could tell he was trying to keep Jackson from hearing every word.  “I missed you all day.” 

Oh, god. This boy and what he did to me.  Always speaking in sexy riddles punctuated by moments of searing honesty.

“I missed you too, Con.” 

“At this point I’m guessing we’ll be at your place around seven.” 

“Emily’s probably already home.  I’ll be waiting. Bring your appetite.” 

“Ha, of course I will.  I’m bringing all my appetites.”   

Indeed, Emily was already home.  Lately her hours had been cut back at her job and though she’d been searching for a new one, the labor market wasn’t ideal.  I half suspected she didn’t mind working less because it gave her more time to spend with Jackson, who had the same kind of variable schedule Conway had. 

Emily was crying when I walked in and I thought something bad had happened but it turned out she was trying to get a head start on dinner by chopping up onions.  She’d made a mess out of the poor thing and I was glad she hadn’t started on the peppers yet because I hadn’t bought more than I would need for dinner. 

I shooed her away to go tend to her red eyes and took over the chopping until everything was in perfect bite-sized pieces.   Once it was all chopped and ready I tossed my work into a red mixing bowl and shoved it in the fridge for the time being. 

Emily emerged, having changed into a cute vintage style blue checkered dress, complete with pearls that made her look like a lovely Asian version of Donna Reed. 

“You need to wear your Rita Hayworth dress,” she told me as she fastened pearl studs into her ears. 

“Don’t you think that’s overdoing it for an evening in?”

She shook her head.  “Absolutely not.” 

“Okay, then.  Rita Hayworth it is.” 

Since I was going to a lot of trouble anyway I took a quick shower before sliding into the black evening gown.  There was a deep slit in the fabric along the right leg and I felt like pre-packaged sex as soon as I put it on.  The bust was tighter than I remembered but I figured I had probably gained a few pounds over the last few months. Conway was always keen on trying new restaurants and we went out to eat at least several times a week.  After applying my makeup to perfection I carefully curled my hair and pinned it up on the right side with an elaborate black and white flower-shaped clip.  As a finishing touch I dug my Louboutin black pumps out of the closet and stepped into them. 

Emily unleashed a wolf whistle as soon as I stepped into the living room.

“Hot,” she declared.  “Although I feel like a regular Plain Jane next to you tonight.” 

I rolled my eyes.  “Come on, Em.  You look amazing.” 

She smiled down at herself.  “He loves this dress,” she said and then swooned into a nearby reclining armchair.  “I think he’s it, Roe.  He’s the one. I never felt this way about Gage.  I never felt this way about anyone.  You like him, right?”

“Jackson’s a nice guy,” I said as I fished an apron out of the cupboard and tied it around my waist.  “He treats you like gold and he might be even more enamored of you than you are of him.” 

She sat up straight, grinning. “I don’t believe that’s possible but I’m glad you think so.” 

Conway had texted about fifteen minutes ago to say that he and Jackson were within Phoenix city limits so I figured I should get the stir fry started.  Emily was floating around the living room singing
Unchained Melody
as I heated oil in a large pan and removed all the ingredients from the fridge. 

“Want some help?” she called. 

“I can handle it,” I answered diplomatically. Emily was a wretched cook and I tried to keep her out of my kitchen whenever possible. 

She sat at the breakfast bar, poured herself a glass of wine from an open bottle of red and watched me bustling around. 

“Roslyn, I love him,” she blurted.  The flush in her cheeks wasn’t just from the wine.  “I told him that last night.  At first I thought I shouldn’t have but then he said it back.” 

“Wow.” I smiled as I tested the temperature of the pan by letting a few drops of water fall in.  They sizzled immediately.  “That’s a hell of a big step.” 

“I know.”  She poured another glass of wine.  “Isn’t it funny, how things work out? If I hadn’t met Jackson you wouldn’t have started seeing Conway and now we both have these amazing guys we’re crazy about.” 

Emily had been kind of skeptical of Conway at first but he’d long since won her over.  In fact she was all ready to push me into a white picket fence happily ever after with him. 

“Roslyn?” she said, somewhat tentatively. 

I looked up from the sizzling pan.  Emily was drumming her fingers on the counter, watching me earnestly.  She started to ask a question and then stopped. 

“Spit it out, Em.” 

“Are you in love with Conway?” 

The sharp knock at the door cut off the inquiry and sent Emily running down the hall to answer it.  She reappeared a moment later in the arms of Jackson. 

“Hey, Roslyn,” he said cheerfully and I waved from my position at the stove.

Conway strolled in a second later, always cool and utterly gorgeous.  He hadn’t shaved today, his baseball cap was backwards and the black shirt he wore was notably faded.  Nonetheless, he looked like he’d just stepped off a modeling shoot. 

He looked me over hungrily and I shifted enough so that the slit in my gown exposed my leg all the way to mid thigh. 

“That’s some dress,” he said and gave me that incomparable Gentry grin that made me want to drop everything and jump his bones. 

“Thank you,” I said and offered him my sexiest smile.  

“Come here,” he whispered. 

I hesitated, searching for a place to set the spatula down.  But Conway wasn’t the patient type so he came to me before I could move. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me slow and deep.  Conway was a perfect kisser.  He knew when to use his tongue and how to tease until I couldn’t stand it.   

“Later,” I said, reluctantly pulling away.  “I have to finish dinner.” 

Jackson and Emily had moved outside to the small balcony.  He was telling her some animated story complete with creative sound effects and she was laughing. 

Conway came around behind me as I returned to the stove.  He slipped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder.  

“What’s for dinner?”

“Teriyaki stir fry.” 

“Mmm.  What’s for dessert?”

Instead of words I pushed backwards, grinding my ass in a deliberate slow circle that had him hissing out a curse and pressing back until I could feel the unmistakable outline of his lust.  He moved his hands down, running his palms down the silky gown until I grabbed his right hand and guided him to the place the fabric split.  One finger stroked the inside of my thigh and I urged him higher as I twisted my neck so I could see his face.  When he realized there was nothing else there, no panties, only me, he shut his eyes in ecstasy and groaned. 

“You say something, Con?” Jackson called from the balcony. 

“No!” he shouted. 

Somehow I managed to get Conway to let me finish dinner preparations even though he argued a really convincing case for visiting the bedroom first.  When I firmly refused he sulked for a few seconds, then poured himself a glass of wine, chugged it like it was a shot of whiskey and leveled me with the world’s sexiest glare.

“Don’t pout,” I said, stirring the vegetables in the pan so they would cook evenly. 

“Then don’t make me wait, baby. It’s unhealthy. Plus excessive horniness brings out my cranky side.”

I batted my eyelashes.  “Maybe you ought to teach me a lesson later.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking very interested.  “I always thought I would make an excellent teacher.”   

“And I’d be quite eager to fill the role of your student, Mr. Gentry.” 

Emily and Jackson were almost nauseatingly cute together.  Conway looked at me and rolled his eyes when they started feeding each other stir fry one bite at a time.

Early this morning I’d whipped up a chocolate pie and set it in the fridge.  As I sliced and served the pie I felt Conway’s eyes on my body. I expected to see a sexy smirk on his face when I looked up but instead he was leaning back in his chair, one finger thoughtfully pressed to his chin as he gazed at me with shy tenderness.  It was a rare expression.  Not just for him, but maybe for all men. I sure as hell couldn’t remember ever being on the receiving end of a look like that before. 

Jackson mentioned going to some action film about international spies and Emily tried to coax us along but it didn’t sound like my kind of movie.  Anyway, I was really looking forward to being alone with Conway.  I caught the conceited grin on his face and knew he was thinking exactly the same thing. 

Even though Emily and Jackson tried to do their part in cleaning up before leaving, the show they wanted to see started in twenty minutes so I told them I’d take care of it and pushed them out the door. 

Conway beat me to cleanup detail though.  He was already clearing the table and sent me to the living room with a glass of wine and an order to relax. 

I watched him from the couch, noting that he probably didn’t do dishes very often because he seemed overly serious about it.  I sipped my wine and wondered if I should point out the existence of the dishwasher but he looked so damn cute frowning over a sink full of suds that I just relaxed and admired the view.  Finally when all the clean dishes were stacked and Conway’s shirt was half soaked he left the sink with a sigh. 

“I have a newfound respect for kitchen workers,” he said.