Lipstick on His Collar (7 page)

“Now, I stopped being a firefighter over three years ago. The question is, how much skill have I lost? Can I still find that one sweet spot to make the perfect cut?”

The glacial metal skimmed the inside of her thigh leaving a hair-fine line of moisture. Slower than time on a summer night, the blades inched upward. So cold, they were so cold on her sensitized skin. It felt so sinfully good. A fiery heat pulsed in her pussy, and she twisted, straining to get closer to that icy touch.

“Don’t move. Stay perfectly still. One too-fast move, one tiny slip could be very bad.” Her hands clamped on the edge of the shelf, knuckles white with her grip. Danger heightened each slow scrape until her skin shrieked with want. The scissors climbed higher on her thigh, deeper along the inside of her leg, until they whispered over the private hollow where her cutoffs covered her. Darkened with her juices, the denim was slick and hot. Bram smiled an iniquitous smile and removed the cold blades. She missed the sharp scrape and the frigid glide instantly. Her knees tightened on his and he shook his head.

“Sometimes, you have to look for just the right place and not go straight for the obvious mark. Sometimes, you have to…peel the top off so you can get a better view.”

The scissors aimed for her breastbone, to where her heart hammered. They opened and took a fast snip right in the middle of her tank top. The quick snick boomed like a thunderclap, loud even over the blood drumming in her ears. Razor-sharp edges slid down her front, parting the faded cotton, exposing her pale peach bra. The raspy glide screamed through her body with a jolt of excitement. Bram jammed the scissors back in his cup and peeled the fabric open. His hands shook slightly and his pupils were dilated until only a thin line of crystal blue showed. His thumbs circled the peaked fabric over her tingling nipples.

He retrieved his shears. The watery soda clinging to the blades pooled at the tip for a fragile second then fell to her stomach, searing with a wet kiss. She held her breath as that lethal-looking metal drew closer.

“So many layers to get through. Each one reveals a better idea of how to proceed. Do I cut here?” The icy scissors grazed the upper curve of her left breast. “Would it be better to start here?” A slow move dragged the spiky tip along her bra edge to the very center point then climbed higher, over the right breast. “Maybe over here would give me better access. Which one is best?”

Oxygen, she needed to breathe. Her chest rose with her inhale but the blades never pressed harder than a frosty flick. She jumped when her bra snapped open, unaware he’d clipped the band between her breasts until the material sprang apart.

His throat rose with a harsh swallow. “So fucking beautiful.”

The cold press of the window against the sharp blinds bit into her shoulders and the heat in his gaze whipped through her, fanning the flames on her simmering need. The ache between her legs increased when the scissors traced from her breastbone to her pebbled crest. The access lights glinted off the keen edge as it circled her darkening areola. With just the very tip, Bram coaxed it to a tighter peak. A whimper passed her lips and his gaze leapt to her face.

An appeal for him to hurry parted her lips but never escaped as the scissors slid over the bottom curve, tracing the heaviness of her swollen breast. Goose bumps erupted that had nothing to do with the cooling metal and everything to do with the sear of its path. A jagged edge of need scored her as it trekked down her stomach to dip into her navel. It sank lower and her whimper came again.

Bram’s voice was thick with lust and husky with restrained need. “Once the top is exposed, then you can see exactly where to go, where to make that final cut.”

“Please.” Her plea was a hiss, a prayer.

The now-warm point slid across her zipper, scraping with a ratcheting grind that stretched her quivering nerves. The second she thought she would go crazy, the biting tips glided along her soaked-through cutoffs and stopped dead center over her throbbing clit. A dry gulp worked her throat as she sucked in great gasping breaths. She was ready to explode and he hadn’t even touched her yet. His words trickled through her sexual fog and ignited a deep carnal arousal.

“Now is where finesse comes in. You must be very sure you want to make that final slice, open that last barrier.”

“Yes.” Her voice was whiskey-raw with need and that one word inched the corner of his lip higher. She gripped the hard metal seat and fought the urge to thrust upward, to beg him to rip the damn shorts off and fuck her right now.

One firm finger slid under her shorts, into the heated pool of her melting flesh. The rasp of the blades parting drew her muscles taut. The world disappeared until there was nothing except her aching cleft and the razor-sharp shears. A hard line delved beneath her shorts. She felt nothing but the press of his finger along her skin. There was a loud chomp then the warm brush of air when he spread the sliced denim and bits of peach lace.

“Sweet hell.” The cracked control in his whisper only fueled her fire, and she unconsciously arched toward him. The scissors clattered to the tiled floor with an echoing ring. The finger he had used to protect her now slid deep inside and a convulsive shake rippled from low in her hips. “So hot. So soft. Oh Christ, lady, do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed about touching you like this again?”

“Touch me. Please, I need… Please.”

Bram licked his lips, never taking his gaze from her pussy. He smoothed three fingers up her slit, the middle one sinking between her lips to nudge at her clit. “Tell me your name.”

She had to bite her tongue to stop from screaming it, to plead with him to say her name and bring her off at the same moment. When she didn’t answer, he allowed a second finger to part her flesh.

“Is it Kate? Lisa? Elizabeth? Margaret?”

“No.”

“Is it Rebecca? Julie? Mary? Anna? Jenny?”

His list of names grew and she shook her head to them all, barely hearing his words but knowing he’d never speak it. The only thoughts in her fizzling brain were the glide of his fingers, stroking her, plucking at her like a musician plucks the strings. He made her body sing with passion. Bowing her back, she strained closer, needing him deeper, desperate to vault that final hurdle. He pressed inside her and a low moan wrenched from her mouth. His thumb circling her clit, he fluttered the two fingers in her pussy and her climax leapt forward.

So close, so close, please…

“Is it Meagan? Beth? Lynn?”

“Bram, please.” An undignified sob wracked her bones.

“I want to lick you.”

“Do it!”

“Not until you tell me your name.”

“Oh God.”

“No, Bram. Bram Matthew Winters. The man who has his fingers in your pussy and is going to fuck you until you scream.”

The fervent boast cracked through her with the force of a whip. A third finger entered her, stretching her, and the painful teeth of pleasure sank into her without mercy. A roiling contraction formed. “Fuck, yes.”

“Yes, honey, come for me, come hard.”

Obeying his command, her body vaulted off the ledge, held aloft only by her grip on the seat and his legs supporting her own. Pounding blood echoed in her ringing ears. He clamped a strong hand on her quivering thigh, steadying her as her muscles clenched around his fingers. Across his knees, her legs shook with the force washing through her. Her head snapped back and her scream vibrated off the walls.

Her body relaxed in harsh, jerking spasms. Panting hard in short bursts, her vision slowly returned and she melted back to the cool metal perch. The barely restrained longing in Bram’s eyes contrasted with his unhurried, gentle strokes along her sensitized folds. He eased her back to reality but kept their contact, their connection, until her mental footing was solid.

Raising his head, Bram looked deep into her eyes. He brought his fingers to his mouth and deliberately sucked her shining liquid from them. A tiny final convulsion jolted through her. He was marking his territory.

“You’re mine now, lady.”

One slat cracked as he splayed his damp fingers on the ancient blind above her head, no doubt leaving telltale smears. Bram gripped her braid and took her mouth again. The rich taste of her blended with the robust flavor of him, and she moaned. Being claimed had never branded so hot.

Chapter Four

“I need to fuck you. Now.”

Those bawdy words, rumbled against her mouth, shocked through her with a fervid power. Her just-sated pussy quaked, empty, needing the hard driving length of his cock slamming into her. She may have nodded, or maybe she murmured consent, but somehow she was on his lap. The chair arms dug into her thighs, and she fumbled, twisting until she could spread her legs wide enough to straddle both him and the seat. The stretch burned her quivering muscles, highlighting the bare brush of her skin on his denim jeans.

His hand fisted in her braided hair, and he kissed her, his hard mouth devouring her, his tongue searching for the hidden depths of her mouth. With a quick tug, Bram sent the twisted elastic tie flying and worked his hands through her hair. The heavy mass shifted, streaming along her back and shoulders in a wavy veil. Both hands wrapped in the freed waves, he pulled her head back, exposing her neck. His teeth scraped her skin, a fire raking her with an invisible flame. At the curve of her neck, where her shoulder began, he bit and sucked. Her hips arched hard, grinding into his erection. Her exposed pussy rubbed along his straining zipper and a moan slipped from her mouth.

“There.” His tongue soothed over the stinging mark. “I owed you.”

“Less talk, more sex,” she ordered, recapturing his mouth.

Bram growled, gripped her bared ass and hoisted her up. She scrambled to find footing with her knees spread around him. The world teetered and spun when his mouth latched onto her breast. A sizzle of pleasure twined through her. The thin, now-loose shirt hung open, giving him access to every inch of her flesh, and he left not one of those inches untasted. He suckled each nipple deep and swirled his tongue, nibbled the bottom curve of her breasts, smoothed his mouth down her stomach.

Without warning, two strong fingers pushed into her wet folds and his mouth sucked her nipple deep. A fractured hum vibrated her throat. Shit, that felt good. So close to what she craved, but so far from what she needed, like smelling fresh coffee but drinking Earl Grey. Still, it quenched her thirst to a minute degree. Her inner thighs glistened with her excitement, and she pressed tight to his chest, her tiptoes straining to hold herself up, give his fingers room. Unhurried strokes teased her until her legs quivered. The firm heel of his hand massaged the aching knot of nerves while his fingers curled inside her. He hit a particularly sweet spot, and she gasped, her feminine muscles tightening.

Dizzy with need, her head fell back, and she harshly drew in gulps of air. The bite of unseen whiskers grazing her breast ratcheted immoral sensations through her. She closed her eyes and relished in the slick glide of his hand, the rhythmic pull of his mouth. The only sound was her ragged breath, the monotone whirr of the dryers and Bram sucking her nipple. His hair was thick, longer than last July, and she buried her fingers deep as she took his mouth. His lusty male scent, the strength of his body, the taste of his kiss all called to her with a raw hunger.

Sometimes a woman just had to take matters into her own hands. Grabbing his wrist, she pulled his hand from between her legs and reached for the button of his pants. She yanked his zipper down, and Bram roughly pushed his jeans lower, freeing himself to her touch. Thickly veined and as magnificently proud as she remembered, he was molten silk and forged iron in her hands. She squeezed once, twice, from the base of his cock to the tip, her knuckles grazing his bellybutton. In the glow of the maintenance lights, a pearly liquid coated the broad head, and her lips darted out, flicking at her lips. She wanted to lick along that crest, lap at that liquor until he trembled and shook. Not now, later, but soon, she would have him.

“Sweet hell, lady. That’s it, stroke me, harder. Squeeze tighter.”

Every inch she relearned ramped her own desire up to a nearly scorching level. His head fell back and a tortured groan thundered from his chest. Like a primitive mating call, the rich masculine sound reverberated, and her inner walls clenched, clenched around nothing. Her gaze shot to the counter, to his forlorn travel bag. Nipping his ear, she whispered, “Duffel.”

“Wallet’s closer.” Bram shifted her enough to jerk his wallet from his jeans. He snagged a square packet and dropped the dark brown leather to the floor.

“Hurry.”

“Honey, I’m trying.” He pushed her hands away. The sharp sound of foil tearing did nothing to ease her. He rolled the condom in place, and she lunged, lowering slowly to relish each sweet inch pushing into her pussy. Fire met fire and his purr vibrated against the shell of her ear.

“So fucking good.” His panting breath scorched her cheek. Hot, tight flesh quivered around him. He thrust, a small upward motion that speared pleasure through her. “Take all of me, honey.”

“Trying,” she whispered. Their position on the wobbly wheeled chair didn’t allow for vigorous moves or full penetration. So good, he felt so good, but she wanted more, wanted all of him, wanted him deep and fast. The thin gray cotton of his shirt twisted in her grip as she searched for his mouth, found it waiting. Rising and lowering, her hard pebbled nipples rasped against the lettering on his chest. A small shiver gripped her, tightening her inner walls around him, but it wasn’t enough, did not give her the release her body craved.

“This chair sucks, I can’t move,” he grumbled.

“Counter,” she gasped, bucking.

“Too high. Floor?”

“Too hard.” She flexed around his tip, a shockwave of pleasure coursing through her. “Bram, please.”

“Standing.” Bram bolted to his feet, taking her with him, her calves circling his hips. He caught one leg and swung it downward. His crushing kiss stole her breath as he left her body, capturing her cry between them.

“Where?”

“Here. Bend over and spread your legs.” His sexual snarl ricocheted through her hot, heavy core, and he shoved the back of her split shorts over her hips. She cried out as he cupped her, pressing deep into her aching center. Both of her hands shot out for balance, flat against the blinds. The hard, sharp slats bit into her palms before they cracked and one five-inch piece clattered to the floor. The freezing window beneath magnified the heat vibrating through her. Slick with warm feminine honey, his fingers thrummed her clit, tweaking the tight nub until she sobbed.