Losing Faith (Surfers Way) (15 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Ryder

BOOK: Losing Faith (Surfers Way)
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“Bastards,” he curses as he sits up. He swats at my arm, squashing one of the offenders.

I sit up and swipe at one that’s attacking my leg.

“Man, the mozzies love you,” he says through a chuckle.

“Don’t these torches have citronella in them?”

“I would’ve thought so,” he says, his brows pulled together as he looks at the one beside him. “Sure smells like it.”

I straighten the bottom half of my dress and let out a heavy breath. The mozzies have crashed the party. “It’s beautiful out here but we’d better go inside,” I tell him.

He grabs my hand as I tuck my legs beneath me. “Don’t run away yet, princess. I came prepared.”

Quade pulls out a can of repellent from the bag beside him and offers it to me. I tilt my head to the side as I read the “heavy duty” label on the can. “You just had this handy?”

“Like I said, I came prepared. Besides, I promised you a moonlit massage and that’s exactly what you’re gonna get.”

“O-kay.”

“Lather up in repellent and then get that sexy frock off. Now’s not the time to be overdressed.” He lies back on the pillow with his hands behind his head. I cast a gaze down to his shorts. I can’t wait until I get to see all of him. I’m a little excited, a little terrified, but eager as anything.

My smile grows wide as I spray my arms and legs. I toss the can to the side, stand up and then undo the zip on the back of the dress. The weight of the brushed cotton fabric brings the dress to float to my feet.

“Jesus,” he says, eyes wide.

I look down at myself in my new white lingerie. Is this extra push-up bra giving him false expectations?
He’s seen them before. Relax
.

“Here. Now,” he growls, pointing a firm finger towards the towel beside him.

I lie flat on my stomach, setting a pillow beneath my chest and head for comfort, wrapping my arms beneath the soft cushion.

“Won’t be needing this,” Quade says, tugging a finger behind the clasp of my bra. The material snaps to my sides and I gasp.

Quade helps me to slide the straps off my shoulders but I keep my boobs firmly in the cups, pressed into the pillow. A popping noise draws my curiosity, and I turn to find Quade pouring oil into his palm. He sets the bottle down and rubs his hands together, spreading the oil which smells of cloves and an earthy scent which I can’t put my finger on.

“Close your eyes,” he says. I do as I’m told, but my body is on high alert, starving for his contact. Quade moves beside me, then he places his knees either side of my hips and sits back, resting some of his weight on the backs of my legs.

The soft strumming of the guitar soothes my ears, and warm, strong hands work muscles that have never felt the tender, loving touch of a man. I sigh as the tension in my muscles lets go, unwinding, and I’m pulled into a dream where this guy worships me with his hands and his kind words.

“Q, that feels … God, I can’t even come up with a word that makes sense. If I was to say it was good it’d be an insult.”

Quade circles his thumbs, digging in between my shoulder blades. “You carry it all here, you know,” he says, continuing to knead the knots I’m all too aware are there.

Quade runs his fingers down to my lower back, but his hands don’t glide as well as they did before, my skin now sticky. I’m robbed of his touch for a moment and then comes the same popping noise from before. An annoying niggling feeling in my lower back has me slapping at the skin, certain there’s a mozzie sucking on my blood. Those buggers just won’t quit. I swipe again, hitting Quade’s hand.

“Shit,” he curses. The bottle falls on my back. Cool liquid oozes over my hips and into my underwear, right in between my arse cheeks.

“Quade!” I cry out as the trickling sensation against my puckered hole shoots goosebumps all over me. Quade jumps off me and reaches for a towel. I jerk off the pillow, using one hand to hold on my bra, and the other peeling the fabric over my butt away from my skin, of course facing away from Quade. “It’s everywhere,” I say as I giggle. Are we romantically doomed?

“Well that didn’t exactly go to plan,” Quade says, and wraps a towel around me.

I tuck it under my arms.

“Right. We need to take this inside,” he rumbles in a deep voice, bending down and effortlessly hauling me over his shoulder. I squeal as blood rushes to my head and the towel rides up to my waist.

Thwack!

Quade’s hand lands with a solid slap to my arse cheek. I scream as pain radiates from the point of impact.

“You animal!” I cry out and burst into a fit of giggles as he smooths his hand over my cheek.

“Again?” he teases.

“No,” I bark out.

Slap!

Strong legs take purposeful strides towards the house. I pound my fists against his arse cheeks, but it’s like hitting rock.
Buns of steel.

Quade finally has me over his shoulder, just like he used to threaten way back then.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Once we reach inside the house, Quade sets me down on my feet and then runs towards the lounge room. I chase after him, even though I’m probably dripping oil everywhere. Our feet pound against the timber floors, our laughter echoing through the small house.

Quade pulls me into his arms, gripping my hands behind my back so I can’t lash out at him.

“Shower time,” he says, nipping at my neck and weakening my knees.

“Yes,” I mutter as he walks me backwards until cool ceramic tiles are beneath my feet and I’m in his bathroom.

He shifts his grip to one hand and with the other, flicks on the shower.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Quade gasps. “What the fuck is happening tonight?” He shakes his head, his eyes filled with bewilderment.

“Young man, is everything okay in there?” a voice chirps.

“Oh my God,” Quade says, scaling his open palm down his face. “She’s relentless. If I don’t answer her she’s likely to call the cops. I don’t need Wilson getting up in my grill when I’m trying to—”

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Dear?” the frail voice echoes in the hallway, as if her mouth is right up against the doorframe.

“Be naked when I get back,” he says, sliding his finger down my stomach and snapping the slim waistband of my underwear against my skin. He storms from the room to get rid of our unwanted visitor.

I lean my back against the cool tiles and sigh, shutting my eyes as a cloud of steam envelopes me.

A latch turns and the front door squeaks in the distance.

“Mrs Prescott,” Quade says, huffing as if he’s out of breath.

I tug my bra off and fling it out onto the bathroom floor.

“Dear, I heard a scream. Is everything okay here?”

“Sorry, a possum tried to attack a friend of mine. She’s fine though.”

I cover my mouth to stifle my laughter. I guess he couldn’t exactly say he was oiling up a woman in the process of wooing her.

“Possums are a problem, aren’t they?” she says.

Am I going to be stuck in this shower by myself forever? Please don’t let her settle into the conversation.

I glide my panties down my legs and untangle them from my feet, leaving them on the shower floor now that they’re soaked.

“Thank you for checking on us. Again, sorry to disturb you,” Quade says.

“Just glad everything is fine and dandy. Goodnight, dear.”

“Night.”

The door slams a second later, and a latch clicks. Determined footsteps pound against the floor, growing louder with each step.

My heart kicks like a wild animal in a cage and my chest expands with each anticipative breath. Then I see him. Huffing and puffing as if he’s just ran a marathon. I watch on in amusement as Quade almost loses his balance taking off his shorts. His shorts meet the floor. Boxers are tossed.

He stands proud, hands on hips, and looks down.

His cock is beautiful. Not quite hard, but … wow.

“Don’t judge me by being half-mast, right now. Talking possums with a senior citizen at this point in the game wasn’t part of the plan.”

I still haven’t taken my eyes from it. “No judging here.” As his cock grows harder my legs grow weaker.

He joins me under the water, his eyes flitting over my body. “You’re incredible. Beautiful,” he grumbles, pulling me against his wet body and kissing my neck, nipping and sucking the sensitive flesh beneath my ear. I melt against him and then drag in a deep breath. Before things go much further, I have to put my fear out there.

I press my flattened palm to his chest, which brings his lustful gaze to my face. I take his face in my hands and stare deep into his baby blues.

“You okay?” he asks.

A tortured sigh parts my lips. “What if I don’t remember how to do it? What if I suck?” I blurt out.

“If you’re not sure—”

“I’m sure,” I whisper.

He presses his lips to mine in a tender kiss and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “I promise you won’t suck ... unless there’s something in particular you
want
to suck.” He glides his front against my stomach.

As his hard cock slips against my skin, I decide then and there that
this
is the sexiest, most erotic moment I’ve ever experienced. The feel of him, the want and need radiating from both our bodies in this chamber of steam has my lady parts spiralling into a frenzy of sensations.

“Do you wanna suck it?” he asks in a gravelly voice.

I slap his arse, which causes a rumble to barrel up his throat. Surprise registers in his eyes.

“I just said that out loud, huh?” he says.

I nod as I slide my hands over the deliciously rounded curve of his bum, my fingers gripping tight and pulling him against me. “You did,” I say, raising one of my brows. “I like it.”
Talk dirty to me.

“Yeah, well seeing you wet like this, I can’t be Mr Charming anymore. No more wooing. It’s open slather now. Time to both take what we want … what we’ve always wanted.”

“Yes,” I moan into his mouth, water spraying between us. The sensation of heat adds to the dizziness in my head, or is it just my feelings for Quade that have me swooning and jelly-like?

“That fire in your eyes is burning brighter already,” he tells me as he slides his fingers between my legs, tickling at my clit with his thumb. I grip his shoulders for stability as a shudder rips through my body.

“Uh-huh,” is all my mouth will deliver as a response.

He bends down and pumps liquid soap in his hands, soaping it between his fingers, then running it over my body where the oil clung moments before.

“Who knew I just had to get you wet,” he says, complete with a growl into my ear. He flips me to face the back wall of the shower, gripping my breasts with a pressure that will surely bruise, but the power, the thrill that courses through my blood with his possessive touch leaves me wanting more.

My palms flatten against the wall. One of his hands tweaks my nipple. The other skates down over my stomach, on a fast track, soon rubbing at my swollen clit. Each stroke drives the ache to become deeper, more intense and closer to the point of falling over the edge.

“Not yet,” I say, breathless. When I come, I want him inside me.
I’ve waited too long
.

I turn around and kneel at his feet, shaking off how uncomfortable my knees are on the hard surface. His broad shoulders block the stream of water, protecting me from its hot blast. I wrap my small fingers around the base of his hard length. He bends his knees, bringing the prize right to my lips. I plunge the swollen head into my mouth, sucking on it like I’ve read I’m supposed to. With quick strokes, I lash the head with my tongue while my hand glides up and down his shaft.

“Laaaaccceeey,” he rumbles. The desperate hold of his fingers in my hair brings him deeper down my throat to the point where I know I can’t swallow anymore. I can’t believe that simply pleasuring him with my mouth, hearing the gravelly tone in his voice and watching the shaking of his legs has my heart pounding and my own ache and want driving me on.

I move one hand between my legs, confirming with a graze of my fingers just how close I am to spiralling out of control as I jerk at the touch. A moan reverberates up my throat as I play with myself and lick the underside of his cock while tickling at his balls.

“There’s only so much teasing I can take, Lace. That fiery tongue of yours has me ready to blow.”

“What if I want you to?”
Lick
. “What if I wanna taste you?”
Lick
.

I swallow down the lump in my throat, wishing it was his come. I’m beyond curious when it comes to that.

“Trust me. I want that, but I have other plans.” He reaches behind him and slams off the water, then helps me to my feet.

He steps out onto the floor mat and grabs the bottom towel in a high stack on a shelf beside the bath. It brings at least half a dozen neatly folded white towels to the ground. He scatters them, overlapping the fabric on the small space in the middle of the room.

Quade grips my hand, and before I can blink I’m on my back, legs open wide in the middle of the bundle of linen.

He opens and shuts the bottom drawer of his vanity unit, pulling out a silver packet. With a rip of the foil, he kneels between my thighs and rolls a condom over his generous package.

A chill rushes over my skin as our wet bodies collide. Quade thrusts inside me, forcing the air from my lungs in one swift pump. I wrap my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his arse cheeks. With a tilt of my hips I take him deeper, the pleasure so intense I screw my eyes shut as if I can hold on to it, savour it even more.

“Yes,” he hisses against my lips. His fingers dig into my hips harder with each frantic thrust inside me. I cry out his name, panting and clawing at his back. The muscles in his upper body tense to the point where he’s shaking.

“More,” I scream.

A phone blares like a strangled foghorn in the distance.

“No!” we both cry out. A laugh bubbles up my throat, but it’s crying I feel like doing. Quade slows the rhythm of his hips as the ringing continues.

“I’m not stopping for anything,” he grumbles. “Want you so much.”

I rake my fingernails down his back and stare into his crystal blue eyes with a determination I’ve never known before. “I don’t care if we’re about to be victims to an earthquake and might be swallowed whole. Don’t you dare stop.”

With my words, he slams his mouth to mine. In a fever of desperation, our bodies sync into rhythm once more. A primal growl purrs from his lips as he drives into me, gaining pace like each beat of my heart. He reaches for my hand and brings my fingers to the point where our bodies join.

“Lose yourself, Lace. Give that to me.”

Our shallow breaths grow louder. I move my hand in time with the movement of his hips. There’s no reluctance on my part to pleasure myself in front of him, no time to be shy now. It’s desire, need and pure animalistic want all at once.

This is the
more
that I have to have.

In measured strokes, I press my fingers more firmly. My back arches as a tortured cry garbles up my throat.
Oh God
. I’m coming, I’m …

My orgasm shreds through my veins with a force that’s almost frightening. Black spots prickle in my vision. I gasp for breath.

“That’s it,” he breathes into my ear, slamming his hips into me and drawing out my pleasure until he tenses all over, and a pulsing deep inside my core sends my eyeballs to roll into the back of my head.

Now I’m really alive.

My ravenous heart eats it all up, delighting in the frenzy of sensations that rock though my body, consuming me to the point of tears.

It’s stupid how good that was. It was stupid good. Yeah.

In a tangled wet mess on the floor, it’s as though I’m floating on a cloud, far from reality. My heart rejoices and my body hums, now alive as it should have been years ago.

Quade pants about as much as I do. Of all places, I’d never imagined the first time we’d be together would be on a bathroom floor.

“Holy jalapeños,” I mutter under my breath.

Quade chuckles and reaches over to cup my boob in his hot hand.

“Can I ask you something?” I ask, placing my hand over his.

“Anything,” he says, breathless.

Will he think I’ve lost it?
“Do you think it’s possible to get drunk from an orgasm?”

“Why? How are you feeling?”

“Wasted. Like I can’t get up or configure speech.”

“Then yes, you’re drunk. Love-drunk.”

Love-drunk? Is this what it is?

“It feels unbelievable.”

When my shivering grows to the point that I huddle into Quade, he stands and helps me to my feet by pulling me up with both hands. He steadies me with a damp towel which he wraps around my back, tucking it under my arms and covering the majority of my body.

He tilts his head forward and presses his lips to my forehead, and then picks up a towel and rubs it across his chest. “Give me a few minutes to settle down and then, we start over.”

I choke on an incoming breath. “Again?”

“I’m not done with you yet. Not by a long shot, Peppi. The deal is done.”

“Done?”

“You and me, Lace. We’re a thing. We just sealed the deal.”

Oh, how long I’ve waited for us to be a thing. Today might just be the best day of my life.

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