Finding Home (17 page)

“I…I’m sorry.” Her voice shook. “I didn’t mean to…”
“C’mere,” he said, and his husky voice was impossible to resist. Megan found she’d walked a couple of paces toward Sean before her conscious brain registered what was happening. She felt like a sleepwalker.

Sean stood and closed the gap between them. He didn’t touch Megan, but waited, his body inches from hers, his cock still erect, his breathing shallow. She could feel his breath on her, the heat of his naked body, and she wanted to scream.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, low and rough. “Not when you start acting out my fucking fantasies.”

Megan processed that and realized the already faint likelihood of her walking away had just receded into nothingness. She trembled, her whole body taut in anticipation. She kept expecting his hands, or his mouth, on her, but he didn’t lay a finger on her.

Maybe he was waiting for her to say something or to make the first move. “Were you really thinking about me?” she whispered, locking her eyes on his.

He nodded slowly. “I didn’t even know whether I was asleep and dreaming or awake when I heard you.”

Megan took a deep breath in and exhaled shakily.
“But I don’t want to do this if you…” He looked down, then back up at her eyes again. “Look, I want this and I know you damn well want this, but if you can’t handle it, just tell me now.”

She closed her eyes. Her whole body yearned for him, drawn to him as if to a magnet, an irresistible force. She stretched out her right hand and placed it on his chest, his skin warm under her palm. God, she’d wanted to touch him forever, ever since she saw him that first day on the street and found her body reacting to him automatically. She’d been fighting her desires much too long.

Sean groaned and next thing she knew, his lips were on hers and all her senses focused on that point of contact. He started gently, brushing his mouth against hers, his tongue just touching hers as she opened her lips to his kiss, but within a few seconds the urgency built during their weeks of pent-up desire took over and they kissed ferociously, lips mashing against each other.

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her into his body. His erection pressed against the thin fabric of her underwear and the heat of it seared her skin. She was weak and wet with desire, and she ground against him as his hands descended down her back and cupped her ass, pulling her in tighter.

Part of her mind yelled at her to stop this—it was what they’d been avoiding all this time, how could she give in now? He was too young, she should know better, what the fuck was she doing? He was a minor, for Christ’s sake, if only for another couple of months. But the rest of her brain and body worked in tandem, whispering a siren song of seduction and surrender, and she didn’t have the physical strength to fight it. Not when Sean’s hands kneaded her flesh, and stroked her, and when his mouth was on hers and moving down her jaw to her neck, his tongue and teeth nibbling and sucking her tender skin. Not when he pressed himself and thrust against her, making her so desperately hot for him that she wasn’t sure they were even going to end up on the couch, let alone her bed, miles away in the other room.

He slipped a finger into the elastic of her panties and she wriggled her ass out of them without a second thought, pulling them off with one hand while the other roamed down his shoulder and back. Nothing mattered any more except they were finally touching and the unbearable sexual frustration was at last getting released.

When Sean cupped her sex and started circling her clit with his finger, Megan let out a moan. He stroked her gently but assuredly as she held onto him, swept away by the waves of sensation coursing through her body. She thought she might come then and there, then he slipped a couple of fingers into her, his thumb still stroking her, and she realized she was going to, very soon.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Sean murmured into her neck as he pushed rhythmically into her. The sound of his voice, combined with the feel of his fingers was enough to topple Megan over the edge as her body erupted in orgasm and she cried out. He smiled against her skin as she clung to him, unable to stand on her own.

He held her close and wrapped his hands around her waist, lifted and spun her around then walked her back toward the couch.

Megan was still in a daze from her orgasm, and the hangover and lack of sleep meant she felt groggy and a little disoriented.

He lowered her onto the couch and braced himself over her, his gaze searching hers hungrily. He looked so fucking beautiful, his hair tumbling messily over his forehead, his eyes dark and demanding and the curve of his lips wet from her kisses.

He held her gaze for a few seconds with a silent question and she nodded. God yes, she wanted him, now more than ever, as if that first taste of pleasure had primed her for more—as if her hunger for him had suddenly grown exponentially. She raised her hand to his cheek and stroked it, her fingers scraping slightly on his stubble, her thumb just touching the corner of his mouth.

He still looked slightly uncertain and Megan thought of their previous encounters, when she’d turned him down or pushed him away. More than a nod was needed. She closed her eyes and pushed past her natural reserve and any residual shame. Dammit, he’d just made her come under his fingers, what the fuck was she being shy about?

“You’re right, I want this,” she said, breathless. Okay, she could say it. “I want you…inside me… Now. Please.” She stopped, listening to her heartbeat and hoping she didn’t sound like a complete fool.

She opened her eyes and, God, the effort had been worth it because the look on his face, surprise and delight and desire all mixed up, was all she could wish for in the eyes of a lover.

He smiled and dipped his head and kissed her very lightly on the mouth, tracing her lips with delicate kisses which left her wanting more.

Her mouth opened despite herself and he attacked her with his tongue, pressing his whole body against her. He kissed her with such passion that she felt light-headed. His hard-on nudged her insistently, rubbing against her thigh.

He stopped kissing her for a few moments as he retrieved a condom from his jeans pocket then he was back, no longer nudging at her thigh but poised over her, grinding against her pussy. She opened up for him and when Sean thrust into her, it was as if all the waiting had been so much foreplay because this was everything she’d ever wanted from sex, and more.

He started slow, holding back and building the pressure with light, controlled strokes, driving Megan into a frenzy until she grabbed his ass with both hands, pulling him deeper inside her.

Her gesture seemed to shatter his self-control and he started really fucking her, hard and fast. His mouth slipped down from hers to her neck, biting her, until she reached her peak again, and much to her surprise, because Megan wasn’t usually a screamer, she swore and cried out, overwhelmed by the strength of the climax which ripped through her.

Sean kept going for a couple of thrusts after she peaked then his whole body went rigid as he came, groaning into her neck He slumped onto her, his heart hammering against her chest.

She wrapped her arms around him and held him to her in a fierce embrace.

“Megan,” he whispered into her ear. The sound of his voice saying her name made her shiver. He pulled back slightly to look at her face, gently brushing the hair from her eyes, and gave her a half-smile which made her heart melt. Then he sighed and dropped his head back into the crook of her neck.

Stroking his back lightly with the tips of her fingers, wanting the moment never to end. Megan drifted in sleepy contentment until she dozed off.

She dreamed of being crushed to death by a pile of blankets her sister was heaping on top of her, all the while telling her to stop being such a baby about it. As her lungs compressed, Megan woke with a gasp to find she really was being crushed. Sean was sound asleep on top of her and his weight pressed her into the couch.

She shook his shoulder. “Off. Now,” she wheezed.

He pressed up onto his elbows and smiled down at her, then lifted his weight onto his arms and rolled to one side. Megan turned so they were spooned together, but the couch wasn’t wide enough for two to cuddle comfortably.

“Want to go to my bed?” she asked through a yawn.

He kissed her shoulder. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Megan rose and padded naked and a little self-conscious about it, down the hall toward her room. She was aware of Sean right behind her and hoped her ass didn’t look as fat as she thought it did—well, not fat so much as saggy. She really needed to work out more and tone it up.

“Go ahead,” she said when she reached the open bathroom door. “I have to make a stop first.”

“Me too, when you’re done.”

Megan went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The realization of what had happened between them caught up with her. It was a done deal. She couldn’t take it back. She’d ignored all the danger signals and done what she’d promised herself she’d never do. If she went out there right now and told Sean she’d made a mistake and wanted to stop this thing before they went any further, it would only hurt him deeply, make him feel used. Besides, who was she kidding? It wouldn’t be easy for her to step back, either.

She sighed and covered her eyes, rubbing them vigorously with the heels of her palms. God, her headache was back with a vengeance. She got a pair of Advil from the medicine chest. Washing them down with a tall glass of water, she rinsed her hands and face then stared in the mirror a moment, trying to decide what would happen next.

Her dark brown eyes stared back at her, looking as clueless and hung-over as she felt. “Idiot!” she hissed at her reflection before smacking the edge of the sink with her hands and turning to leave the bathroom.

Sean was waiting his turn in the hall, lounging with his back against the wall, his body as relaxed and natural as if he were clothed. While Megan had the repressed desire to cover herself, he walked past her casually with his flaccid penis swaying and a contented, almost smug smile on his face. He gave her butt a little smack as she passed him.

Megan’s room was a disaster as usual and she quickly gathered discarded clothes and threw them in the hamper, stacked some scattered books and newspapers and smoothed the covers on her rumpled bed. Hearing the toilet flush, she leaped onto bed, plumped the pillows and settled against them. Her heart beat wildly against her rib cage like a trapped bird.

The early morning sunlight was trying to work its way through her blinds and the alarm clock showed it was now seven thirty.

As she waited for Sean, Megan felt she was poised at a crossroads. Inviting him to come to her bed added a whole new layer of complexity to their relationship. If she invited him once, he’d soon be sleeping with her all the time. They could never go back to the way they’d been before. They’d be “living together” in the sexual sense of the words.

Then he appeared in her doorway, bathed in the orange glow of the sun shining through her translucent blinds, and she forgot all her fears, doubts and reservations. He was absolutely beautiful, his hair tousled, his body chiseled and solid and his eyes and cock hungry for her again. He moved toward the bed with the grace of a stalking animal, and Megan pulled back the covers to welcome him into her bed.

The immediate impact of their falling into bed together didn’t quell the sexual tension that had been stalking them, but fueled it with a vengeance.

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other, Megan discovered as the weekend progressed. Even when they managed to get out of bed, the urge to touch and caress and feel each other was irresistible. Clearly there was some payback for the months of build-up, of “look but don’t touch”, of enforced distance. Now she had a desperate need to touch, smell, taste him at every opportunity, and Sean was just as eager.

He cornered her in the kitchen when she was making a pot of coffee and she felt his hands from behind, running up her leg under her robe, his rough, work-weathered fingers grazing her soft skin in the most arousing manner. Megan caught her breath and moved slightly away from him, but his hand followed her, creeping ever higher. She wriggled a little, only to find his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him. As she relaxed into his embrace, leaning her back against his chest, she realized he was still naked—he was absolutely unselfconscious about nudity, unlike her—and the thrill of the feel of his warm body against hers was enough to make her moan. He was hard again, with the amazing stamina of his seventeen years.

“I can’t believe you still have energy.” She sighed. “You make me feel like an old lady.”

He nuzzled her neck in answer, his mouth dropping small kisses toward her throat.

“A beautiful old lady,” he murmured. “A really hot, sexy, gorgeous old lady.”

Megan shivered as his hands slipped around to her front, parting her robe and tangling in her curls. He stroked her gently at first, one finger tracing her labia, then he became more precise and she gave up all pretence of dealing with the coffee. She pressed against his body, head tipped back, her throat exposed to his kisses.

“Hang on.” Suddenly his hands were on her hips, picking her up, turning her around and sitting her on the counter, facing him. Megan was disoriented at the sudden change of position. Sean’s eyes were predatory as a jungle cat as his hands parted her legs. A surge of residual modesty kept her legs together, then lust won and she let him open her to his gaze. He stood there for a few beats looking at her, which was both embarrassing and possibly the hottest thing that had ever happened to her.

He dropped to his knees on the cold, tiled floor and pulled her legs forward slightly so she was on the edge of the counter. Megan had to brace herself on her arms not to fall back. His hot breath on her groin was intensely arousing, full of exciting promise. Would he live up to his nickname? If his proficiency with men translated across the gender divide, it meant he was also more attuned to women’s needs. Then his tongue touched her clit, and she gasped.