Authors: Kelly Jamieson
He gave a short nod. “Okay then. I’ll do it.”
Her body pulsed as she looked at him for a stretched out moment. “Really?”
“Really.” And then he stepped into her house and shut and locked the door behind him. “When do you want to do it?”
“Um…” Distracted by the fact that he’d changed his mind about coming in, she gave her head a little shake. Do it? The photographs? Or… “I don’t know. Whenever is good for you.”
“I have a busy week. Next weekend?”
“Um…sure.”
Still holding her hand, he started down her short hall toward her bedroom.
“What are you doing?” she asked, tripping along behind him in her spiky heels.
“
Now
I’m going to fuck your brains out.”
Chapter Six
A thrill ran through Jules at his words, a shivery, aching thrill right in her core, her feet hurrying to keep up with his long strides.
He paused and looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow lifted in a question. She nodded and he pushed into the room, her bedroom. Her house was not big, and neither was her bedroom, and stepping into the room, they were already standing beside the bed. He flicked on the lamp on the table beside it, the glow illuminating her room. He cast a quick glance around and she was glad she’d taken the time to pick up all her clothes and put them away. Usually her room was one big closet, with clothes draped over the squishy armchair in the corner, lingerie hanging off the doorknob of the closet or piled on her dresser, shoes covering the carpet beneath the chair. But tonight her room was tidy, well, as tidy as it could ever get with all her books and CDs and magazines and little trinkets and
objets
she’d accumulated on her travels, the brightly colored painted wooden fish on the wall, the carved dragon on top of the stereo, coconut shell balls in a bowl on the dresser.
“Pretty,” he said, touching the beads dangling from the bottom of her lampshade. “Not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” He brought her up against his body, all hard and hot, and she nearly gasped.
He bent his head and nuzzled her neck, the prickly stubble of his whiskers making her shiver with delight. “Something modern and impersonal.”
“R-really? Why?”
“I don’t know. Yes I do. But we can talk about that later. Right now I just want to do this.” He grazed his teeth over her skin, eliciting another quiver. Then he dragged his tongue down the side of her neck. Her head fell back, eyes closed, and he kissed her throat where her pulse raced, a long, open-mouthed kiss. Oh God.
A ravenous ache started up low inside her. One of his hands on the side of her neck, the other on the small of her back, he pulled her up against him, against the hot hardness of his groin. Her nipples burned and tingled and she wanted to climb up his body, get as close as she could. Her hands gripped his shoulders, big strong bones beneath his firm skin, under the thin fabric of his shirt. “Mike,” she whispered as his tongue fluttered over her pulse. “God, Mike.”
His mouth slid down over her collarbone, pressed a kiss on her chest just where her breast began to swell, just above the edge of her dress. Then his hands were brushing aside the fabric of the wide V neckline to bare her shoulders. He cupped her shoulders, licked a trail down between her breasts, and back up, his lips nipping at her chin, and then his mouth took hers in a long, drugging kiss. She opened for him helplessly, wanting that, wanting so much. His tongue slid into her mouth, so hot, and she welcomed it, touched her own to it.
A groan rumbled in his throat as he kissed her, over and over. His hands slid from her shoulders up to her head, into her hair, holding her as he made love to her mouth with his, with his lips, his teeth, his tongue, until she was burning up so hot she thought she’d die if she didn’t have him inside her. She held on tighter to his shoulders as her legs went weak.
“God!” she gasped when finally he lifted his mouth from hers.
“Oh yeah.” Breathing heavily he paused, eyes closed. “Christ, Jules.”
She slowly pivoted, giving him her back where the zipper of her dress was. He got the hint. Fingers tugged, the dress loosened around her and she shrugged it off her shoulders until it slid down her body and dropped to the floor in a dark whisper of chiffon. She started to turn back, but to her surprise, Mike’s hands held her in place and his mouth landed on her shoulder in a soft, open-mouthed kiss. He nibbled his way across her back, licking the nape of her neck, pausing there to draw in a deep breath, and then continuing to her other shoulder. Sensations skittered down her spine, her skin tingling everywhere.
“You smell so good,” he murmured, lips on her shoulder. “What is that?”
“It’s um…you know…” She felt his mouth curve into a smile against her skin. “Flowers…those little white ones…”
“I don’t have a fucking clue, but I love it.”
“Lily of the valley.”
“Ah.” He pressed his nose to the side of her neck, sweeping her hair aside, and heat rushed through her body.
He unfastened her strapless bra, tugged it away from her body and tossed it aside, his lips pressing kisses down her spine. Her breasts ached and swelled, nipples tingling at exposure to the air, and she cupped them. Mike kissed the small of her back, going to his knees behind her, and her stomach swooped. His fingers slipped into the sides of her thong, easing it down over her hips and thighs and when his lips travelled lower, to the curve of one butt cheek, she sucked in air.
“Sweet,” he murmured behind her. “Such a sweet pretty ass, Jules.”
Dear God. Oh dear God. His hands glided over her skin, up and down her legs and hips, cupping her buttocks, teasing the crevice there, all while his lips kissed and nipped. Electric thrills raced over her, heat flaring along every nerve ending. His breath warmed her skin, his fingers grazed her flesh and her legs began to tremble.
“Aw, Jules.” She felt him rise behind her. His arms slid around her waist from behind in a warm hug. “You lay down on the bed, honey.”
With relief, she took the one step closer to the bed and climbed onto it. She turned, limbs still shaking, to watch him as he unbuttoned his shirt. She licked her lips without realizing it until she caught his smile as he watched her in return.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, eyes moving over her.
Her breasts lifted as she took a deep breath, not taking her eyes off him as he revealed his chest and abs. She’d seen his naked torso before, that day he’d been mowing the lawn, and a couple of times since. After their kayaking expedition he’d stripped his wet suit off down to below the waist, making her gulp. He was as amazing as she remembered, with flat pecs, sculpted abs, a dust of golden brown hair between his flat brown nipples.
He shrugged out of the shirt, but before he removed his pants, shoes and socks, he slid a hand into a pocket and pulled out…something he tossed onto the bedside table. Oh. Condoms. Good.
Still wearing a pair of low-rise, snug black boxer briefs, he joined her on the bed. Her gaze dropped to the erection covered with soft cotton. Her breath stuck in her throat, and she had to work to breathe in choppy little pants as she studied him.
This was weird. She felt like a high school virgin, which was crazy because that hadn’t been her for a long time. She’d done more than her share of sexual experimentation and this should have felt old and ho-hum, but Jesus, her blood was pulsing hot in her veins, her pussy ached with need and her skin burned everywhere. On top of that, nerves fluttered in her stomach.
All right, enough of that silly shit. She launched herself at him and pushed him to the bed on his back, straddling his thighs with hers. His mouth opened into a surprised O, his eyes wide. She smiled at him, setting her hands on his flat chest. His gaze dropped to her breasts, then tracked lower to where her legs were parted. Him just looking at her heated her body even more.
She looked down herself at his cock, pressing upward against the strained fabric, and she couldn’t resist a touch. She rubbed over the cotton, loving the hard resilience of his cock beneath it, loving the way his abs contracted at her touch, loving the breath he hissed in through his teeth. With her palm she traced the outline of his penis, long and thick, found the head and cupped it. She bit her lip as liquid heat gathered between her legs.
“Jules,” he said, voice hoarse.
She stretched out over him to kiss him, sliding her hands up his chest to his shoulders and then his arms. She pushed his arms up, stroked the thin soft skin on the undersides of them and heard his sharp intake of breath. “You
are
hot,” she murmured against his lips. “So damn beautiful. I can’t wait to photograph you.”
And then the room spun around her and
she
was on her back, looking up at him. He loomed over her, big and muscular and tanned. He smiled with a faintly triumphant glint in his eyes.
“Hey,” she said. “I like being on top.”
“Really,” he said in a dry tone. “What a surprise.”
Her eyebrows started to slant downward but then he kissed her again, and her mind disintegrated. Why had she wanted to be on top? Oh…whatever. She let herself go, drifting into sensation, his mouth on hers, his tongue in her mouth, his hands in her hair as he supported himself on his elbows above her. His big hard body pressed her deliciously into the mattress. She moaned.
Her hands slid up and down his back, all smooth satiny skin, loving the width of it, the narrowness of his waist, the hard leanness of his hips. But he was still wearing underwear and her hips lifted into his needfully.
“Hot little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured in her ear.
She shivered. “Hot for you.” Her fingers plucked at the soft cotton of his underwear, wanting him out of them, but then she grabbed hold of his ass and squeezed. He groaned and kissed her again.
“Slow down,” he murmured. “There’s no rush.”
“True.” She should just let herself enjoy the sensuality of it, not race toward the finish line. But damn, her body was overheated and demanding satisfaction. And she wanted to be in control. She hated feeling out of control.
She pushed at him, tried to get him to roll off her so she could be on top again, but he wouldn’t budge, just kept kissing her, her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw. She moaned both in arousal and frustration. “Mike.”
He lifted his head and looked at her, his mouth wet and shiny in the lamp light, his bottom lip curved sensually, his eyes gleaming. She melted a little more inside. “Sssh,” he said. “Let me do this.”
Her heavy eyelids lowered and then opened in a slow blink. He slid his body along hers, reaching for her hands, lacing his fingers with hers as he kissed her chest and between her breasts. He rubbed his stubble over the inside curve of one breast and her nerve endings jumped. Her nipples hardened, aching for attention, and he lifted his head to look at her, at her breasts, admiration shining in his eyes. “So beautiful,” he murmured and her nipples tightened even more.
She knew she wasn’t exactly well-endowed but she’d never cared. She loved her breasts, loved the sensation they provided her with, and none of her partners had ever complained. And then Mike brushed his face across her sensitive skin once more and kissed her nipple. His touch made her cry out, and when he closed his lips over the tender tip and sucked, sensation sizzled from her nipple to her womb, lifting her hips against him. He suckled deeper, harder, tugging on her breast with lips and teeth. Oh God, oh God. Her body twitched.
Her fingers curled in his hands, gripping him tightly as he moved to the other breast, pleasure torching her body as he licked and sucked and kissed and she writhed beneath him. Then he kissed his way lower, over her tummy, and lower still. Her skin quivered with delight and anticipation, her pussy aching, clenching and unclenching, her hips lifting.
He made small noises of appreciation in his throat that thrilled her. “So sweet,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “So responsive. God, Jules, you’re so fucking hot.”
She managed a squeak, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, her head tipped back.
Then he kissed the small patch of curls she kept above her pussy and she sighed.
“Wanna taste you,” he said. “Wanna lick you until you come in my mouth.”
“Oh God!” She burned with need. “Yes.”
But still he took his time, nuzzling her, kissing her skin where hip and thigh joined. Then he disentangled his fingers from hers so he could push her thighs wider. In the absence of his hands to hold on to, she fisted the duvet cover. He kissed her folds, sucked gently on the sensitive flesh. Sparks rushed through her veins, liquid heat gathering there, so close to his mouth. She pressed her feet into the mattress to lift herself to him.
“Mmm.” He kissed her inner thighs, then added his fingers to the play, stroking over her with his fingertips, gently pinching her folds and running his fingers up and down, massaging her sensitive, swollen flesh. When he lifted his head to gaze down at her, more heat surged beneath her skin, enflaming her from the inside out. He studied her pussy, making her squirm and burn, his fingers parting her, caressing her, stroking up and down, spreading her slickness all over.
“So wet,” he murmured, still watching his fingers play. “So damn wet and creamy. You’re amazing, Jules.”
She hadn’t done anything! Her head tossed back and forth on the pillow. It was him making her respond like that, him making her all wet and aching.