Lipstick on His Collar (6 page)

“And scruffy Cleveland Browns sweatshirts and faded Levi’s in your off-time.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“We agreed on one night,” she reminded.

“Things changed. At least, they did for me. I thought…we found something that night, something I lost when I woke up alone.”

She pushed off the ledge, bounding before him like an overeager puppy, all bare feet and jittery bones. The pounding beat in her throat almost choked her, but she swallowed it down. She wanted, she needed him to understand her regrets. She would undo that morning if she could. She’d made it halfway home, jumpy and tense, only to turn around, driving back to a hole-in-the-wall motel that held exactly what she’d been looking for. But she was too late and he’d checked out hours earlier.

“It wasn’t you, Bram. It was me. I messed up. You made me feel too much. You listened. You talked to me. You cared. I got scared. I ran, and when I realized I’d made a mistake, it was too late. You were gone.” She stepped close to wrap her arms around his shoulders, looking deep into his eyes. “But we’re here now and I’m not running. Will you forgive me? For everything?”

Large, powerful and rough-skinned, his hands framed her face with a gentle touch, spiraling a jagged awareness through her. With one touch, he brought all those feelings of tenderness and promise back.
Oh, I’m in major trouble here. Falling in love with Bram would be far too easy
.

“Will you tell me your name?”

It sat on her tongue but she held it. The lure of still being his anonymous lover thrilled her with a secret wickedness. She pressed her breasts closer to his chest. “No…but if you guess it, I’ll admit it.”

His mouth quivered with a hidden smile. “What else do I get if I guess right?”

“What else do you want?”

He dropped his head to nibble at her jaw and devilish want dropped his tone to a husky, hungry level. “You, on your knees, in front of me, your lips around my cock.”

Bram didn’t talk dirty until he was excited and then he melted her bones with deliciously naughty words. A lusty memory swelled like an ocean wave, tinged with the brazen light of erotic play.

Sometime during that July night, the rain had stopped. Outside the motel window, a slow steady dripdripdrip from a leaky gutter could be heard. Occasionally a vehicle sped through a puddle with a splash. Her knees straddled his hips. She smoothed slow strokes up his spine then slid her hands around his shoulders. Her hair swung low across his cheek, the air thick with the scent of sex.

“So is Bram short for Abraham?”

“Nope. Just Bram.”

“I like it. Short, powerful, masculine.” She’d accented each word with a nibble along his neck.

“I’ll show you masculine.” He rolled beneath her, grabbed her around the waist and nuzzled her throat with a playful snarl. Her squealing laughter bounced off the walls loud enough to wake the guests next door had there been any. She rocked a moist cradle against his hardening cock, purring into his touch. Play turned erotic when he lifted her above him, settling her knees on the pillows. Large warm hands supported her ass, cupping it and holding her in place.

“Christ, I love that you’re bare. Your pussy is so slick on my tongue.”

He took his time, gliding his mouth over her cleft, around her lips, sliding deep inside her. Sucking her clit into his mouth, he fluttered his tongue with butterfly-light pressure and hummingbird speed. The soft brush of his hair on her inner thighs heightened the decadent caress of his mouth. A fine razor-wire of need curved around her bones, tightening with the sharp bite of ecstasy. The fake headboard had nearly cracked in her grip.

“Bram, please.”

“Come for me, lady.” He drove his tongue deep into her, his words whispering against her wet flesh. “Let me taste it.”

Her nails jammed into the headboard and she screamed at the garish wallpaper as her orgasm ripped through her. Bram captured her pulsating clit, working it between his lips until blissful tears streamed down her cheeks and she quivered in release. Only then did he let her go, mouthing a damp trail up her tummy as she slid down his body. Panting and still craving him, she kissed him deep, tasting herself and the savory tang of Bram.

He blindly reached beside him, and she waited, straddling his stomach, needing him to plunge deep inside her. Disbelief ripped his mouth from hers. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“We used the last condom.”

“What?” Grabbing the empty box out of his hand, she stared inside as if it were possible to miss one. Shock cooled her lust but her pussy ached in emptiness. He sat up, pushed her aside and left the hard mattress in a swift leap, the sheet trailing behind him. “Where are you going?”

Jerking a pair of jeans from the duffel, he smiled at her. “CVS. I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t but, Bram, you can’t go out like that.” She pointed to the reason his zipper didn’t want to close.

“Watch me.” He left his pants gapped, reaching for the ice-blue button-down draped haphazardly over the back the single chair in the room.

“Bram, if you go in there and just buy condoms with lipstick on your shirt at two o’clock in the morning, they’re going to know what we’re doing.”

“So? We’re adults. I couldn’t care less what a bunch of store clerks think.” He caught her gaze, his tone dipping into an intimate caress. “Besides, I’m not ready to let you go yet, lady.”

“I’m not ready for that, either. But you do look ready for something to me.”

She rose from the twisted pile of sweat-damp sheets and knelt before him. His mouth dropped open, and he buried his hands in her hair as her lips surrounded his rigid cock. Gently kneading his balls, she twisted her fingers up to meet her downward glide. She couldn’t take all of him, he was simply too thick. A rough groan filled the room and his hips rocked into her.

“Oh fuck, lady, yes, suck me.”

She lapped at the firm ridge of nerves on the underside of his shaft, stiffening her tongue and circling the broad head. Swallowing as deeply as she could, her swift rhythm drew a low melody of erotic mumblings. The harder he grew, the closer he got, the coarser his language became until the very end when his shuddering cry was a wordless, primal yell.

He didn’t make it to CVS for another forty-five minutes, zipper firmly zipped with no difficulty.

Memories were a pale reminder of the firm, satin glide of his mouth along hers. Reality was so much better. His lips parted without her urging and her tongue savored a sweet spiciness that was Bram. For one long, hot minute, he did nothing but slip repetitively into her mouth, his tongue teasing hers. Each lick added to the moist throb between her thighs. His palms left her face and molded her tighter to him. She brought his mouth to hers harder and stroked back with a kiln-fired intensity.

No single kiss could soothe the ache he’d created. He used his lips and tongue and teeth to nibble down her throat, make her moan beneath his mouth, tightening her nipples. The thin tank and satin bra cup were no barrier to his touch. He plucked and rolled her tight peaks until they ached. A burning need brewed in her blood. Her tongue traced up along his jaw to catch his earlobe in a sharp nip. The low-slung jeans couldn’t hide his cock thickening and her clit pulsed. God, she wanted him.

There was no objection as her hand slid down his chest, past his stomach and into his jeans. Curving her fingers around him, she stroked as much as the denim would allow, which wasn’t much. Her thumb rubbed across the head of his cock, and he sucked in a harsh breath, his hips thrusting forward. She wondered if he was imagining her mouth skimming the tip. Just in case, she swirled her tongue across his and rolled her thumb in the same slow circle. A masculine growl erupted. His hand clamped on her fingers before she could lower his zipper.

“He can see everything.”

Shit, she’d forgotten all about Jason and that damned picture window. The rush of seeing Bram again, having Bram again, pushed all moral boundaries aside. Fuck it, she didn’t belong to Jason. If she wanted to screw Bram’s brains out in the middle of the Laundromat, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. A wanton little surge shot through her pussy at the thought of Bram fucking her, driving deep and hard, while Jason watched. Maybe he’d pick up a few lessons, like the clitoris isn’t a button on a remote control you jam with your fingers to turn your girlfriend on.

“I don’t want to think about him. I want to think about you.” She tried to slide her hand back down his pants. Bram caught her hand and glanced over her head, out the window and, no doubt, right at Jason’s gray Camry. His frame turned to stone.

Lust had a firm grip on her and emboldened her. She’d screw Bram in front of her mother’s bridge club right now she was so hot. She kissed his neck. “Forget about him.”

He didn’t lower his chin, bring his mouth back to hers. Instead, he glared with a fiery intensity through the glass. “No.”

A chill encased her as he jerked away. Her eyes hungrily gobbled up the broad line of his shoulders as he stalked to the edge of the huge glass window. His fists clenched tight at his side. His burning glare penetrated through the cold, black night, and he grabbed the cord along the wall.

“Bram, don’t. That blind is older than you. Slats keep breaking and it gets stuck once you drop it. It’ll take me a half roll of tape and an hour to get it back up straight. That’s why I never lower it.”

“I’ll fix it in the morning. This’ll be worth it.” A wicked smirk inched his lip higher on the left. Bram’s nostrils flared. Deliberately, slowly, he raised his arm as if to wave to her ex but turned his hand and flipped up his middle finger.

The huge, dingy Venetian blind crashed down, abruptly cutting off the night and cocooning them in a private, hazy, sexual center. A laugh burst from her lips. “You’re just irritating him.”

Bram crossed the two steps to her and pulled her close. A surge of arrogance radiated from him, a wave of deep, primal dominion rippling from his tense frame. The possession crackling in his eyes warmed something deep inside her, some soft, tender place that pulsed with a newfound beat. “This has nothing to do with him. It’s me and you and whatever the hell has been brewing between us since July. I don’t share what’s mine.”

A sudden quickie in the Wash-n-Dry took deeper meaning. It was still lust-tinged, frantically needy, and hotter than three types of pepper, but it was a fresh start as well. Bram was right. This wasn’t about showing Jason she didn’t belong to him. It was showing Bram she wanted to belong to him and him alone. She’d examine the whys and how-longs later.

Trailing her finger along his jaw, she smiled naughtily. She turned around and tipped her hips up in erotic suggestion. Like a cat in heat, she rubbed along his hardening cock, arching her back, lifting her ass, needing him. “Share with me, Bram. It feels so good.”

“Good doesn’t come close.” A wicked glimmer burned deep in his blue eyes. Animalistic lust chiseled his face into a sensual grin. A fizzle of excitement bubbled and churned in her stomach. He hooked his forefingers in her belt loops and tugged her hips to his. “This would be a hell of a lot easier if you were wearing a skirt.”

“Not willing to work for it, Bram?”

The challenge flared in his eyes. “Oh, I’m going to work for it.” The primitive look softened for a split second, and he pressed his lips to hers in a feather kiss then pushed at her hips. “Go back and sit down.”

A strange disconnected euphoria encased her. This evening was too fantastical to imagine. This morning, she had been stuck in her mundane, everyday life with her stalker-ex, and now, the best night of her life paid her a visit in living color. Bram had risen from rebound guy to the one who got away, but fate had stepped in and brought him back into her life. She should make an offering, light a candle or sacrifice something because this was a gift she wasn’t going to take for granted.

The overhead light snapped off with a loud, cold click, plunging the room into shades of gray. Automatic service lights flared along strategic points, illuminating the ceiling and softening the rest of the room to a wash of shadow. The wide ledge had grown ice-cold and she shivered when it touched her flushed skin. The heavy fragrance of Bounce and Downy had become commonplace for her, but now there was a new scent that made her nose tingle—anticipation. Her skin felt lonely without his touch but when he turned toward her, her breath caught.

He had the scissors from beneath the counter and a sinful, wicked slant to his brow. He worked the scissors and the quick
snicksnick
of the blades sent her heart to racing. Bram settled into the chair in front of her and popped the lid off of his soda cup. The scissors went in the cup, blades down.

“What are you doing?”

His palms landed on her knees and opened her thighs. Beneath her ribs, her heart thudded. What was he doing with the scissors? He swirled the shears in the cup, ice and metal clinking together in a high-pitched crash. Air sailed past her lips in great gulping bursts. He lifted her knees, draping them over his own until she was spread before him. One hand slid higher until his thumb slid under her cutoffs and grazed her slick center.

“Christ, you’re wet already.” Bram looked dangerous in an erotic, tempting way. Removing his thumb, he brought it to his lips, licking the shimmer of moisture from his skin. She shuddered. A feral look carved deep into his face. Desire had lidded his eyes, and he moved in the sensuous languid manner of a great cat stalking his prey, all lithe lines and compact control. Her gaze locked with his and she trembled not from fear but on a sexual buzz.

“Part of being a firefighter meant we got called out on car accidents.” His voice soothed and enflamed her at the same time, like a naughty lullaby guaranteed to give her wet dreams all night long. “It’s a very delicate operation to free someone from a wrecked vehicle. Did you know that? One cut, one misplaced slice, and you could hurt the person you’re trying to rescue. It took a lot of training and practice to know exactly how to position the blades.”

He pulled the scissors from the soda cup. A fine coating of liquid dripped off the pointy ends, and he angled it to drop on her thigh. The splash was ice cold and burnt with a lusty fire. Her chest heaved with her swift breath, and she focused on the sharp blade tip inching closer to her knee. It grazed her skin in a frozen, feathery stroke.