Magnificent Bastard (16 page)

“Oh God,” she mumbles against my lips, kissing me with the words. “It’s so good, so perfect. Don’t ever stop, don’t ever, ever stop.”

I groan against her mouth as I slide my hands beneath her ass, cupping her in my palms, tilting her hips until we click into that perfect-for-us-position and, holy shit, it’s heaven. It’s paradise. It’s the best place I’ve ever been. She’s right, this is perfect, and I don’t ever want to stop.

But when she arches in my arms, her breasts pressing tight to my chest as she comes again, I can’t hold on another second. I come like a rocket shooting into orbit, a low, pained sound rumbling through my chest as pleasure floods through me. I’m drowning in bliss, drowning in her, in Penny who—when it’s over and we’re lying fused together, our breath still coming fast—wraps her arms and legs around me and holds on tight, silently letting me know that she’s got me.

As soon as I regain motor function, I roll over, pulling her on top of me, my softening cock still inside her pussy, and stroke her from neck to ass with my still-trembling hand as our heartbeats begin to slow.

Neither of us speaks, but she presses a sweet kiss to the center of my chest and I mold my hands to her spectacular ass with a reverence usually reserved for holy objects and it becomes clear that whatever we’re doing together it’s going to be a lot more intense than I expected it to be.

I’m still digesting that and trying to figure out whether to be disturbed by it when she props herself up on her arms and says in a blissed out voice, “And now we should go buy wine and a picnic basket from the winery, then come back here, get tipsy, and do that four or five more times. Maybe six.”

“Hell, yes, we should.” Screw getting disturbed. That sounds like the best night I’ve had in years. “I think we can manage six. It’s still early and, not to brag, but the Incredible Bulk has the recovery skills of an eighteen-year-old.”

“Yeah, about him…” She smiles, her eyes darkening as she shifts her hips, reminding me that I’m still balls deep in her pussy. As if I could forget. “Please tell him I’m sorry I mocked him. He absolutely deserves his title. He’s incredible.”

“You can tell him yourself,” I say, squeezing her ass. “Maybe in the shower after we eat?”

“Sounds perfect,” she says, smile fading as she adds, “I’m sorry about the other, too. I’ve never shoved someone before. Not in my entire life.”

“I’ll survive.” I brush her hair away from her face. “You’re half my size, buttercup. You couldn’t hurt me if you were really trying. And you weren’t.”

“I know, but I still feel terrible about it.”

“Don’t.” I cradle her jaw in my hands and run my thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. “I don’t want you to feel terrible. In fact, I’m willing to do just about anything it takes to keep you looking just like this.”

“Freshly bedded?” she asks, lips quirking up on one side.

“Happy.” I slide my fingers into her hair and make a light fist. “And freshly bedded. Orgasms look good on you.”

She laughs, her lashes sweeping down. “Well, thank you. They feel pretty good, too.”

“I can’t wait to give you more. To feel you go on my cock, my hand, to taste you in my mouth again…”

Her gaze lifts from my chest to my face, a shocked, but delighted look in her big brown eyes. “You can’t be. Not already.”

“I told you I wanted you on top.” I flex my ass, thrusting my rapidly thickening cock between her legs. “Here’s what going to happen: you’re going to roll away just long enough for me to get my jeans off and for you to toss those panties on the floor and then you’re going to get back on my cock, and your tits are going to be mine.”

Breath already coming faster, she arches one brow. “Are you always this bossy?”

I reach back, popping the close of her bra. “No,” I find myself confessing. “Not always. Sometimes it’s better if no one’s in control. If it’s just a wild, sweaty, wonderful free for all. Don’t you think?”

“I think I…” She swallows, blinking as she braces her hands on my chest. “Yes, I do. And I think I’m glad you’re here.” Her tongue slips out to dampen her lips. “Thank you for being my friend.”

“My pleasure,” I say, as I slide her bra down her arms. “Truly. Every minute.”

And then I guide her down until her breasts are even with my mouth and set about proving it, one kiss at a time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The next fifteen hours pass in the best possible way. I have Penny on the bed, in the shower—where she bestows upon the Incredible Bulk a blow job he won’t soon forget—on the couch, and then again on the bed before we both pass out from orgasm-induced exhaustion.

It’s been a long time since I’ve shared a bed with a woman and I don’t expect to sleep well, but I’m out like a light the second my head hits the pillow and don’t wake until the sun is shining through the curtains. By then, Penny’s hand is already wrapped around my cock, coaxing a case of morning wood into something more serious.

This time I spread her out on her belly and ease into her from behind, sliding my hand beneath her hips, finding her clit and teasing it with my fingers until she comes so many times she’s begging me to stop, to never stop, to keep fucking her until her bones melt through her skin.

“That sounds painful,” I breathe, pressing a kiss to her neck.

She groans. “Less teasing, more biting.”

“I live to serve,” I say, trapping the flesh at her shoulder between my teeth and biting down.

“Oh God, yes. Now. Right now! My bones are melting right now!” she cries out, making me laugh.

But soon I’m too busy coming to laugh, my cock milked dry by the sweet, tight heat of her body locking down around mine, taking me back to that flawless place I find every time we come together.

When it’s over, we roll onto our sides and I spoon her close while we catch our breath, pretty sure I could stay in this bed with her all day and be completely happy.

“I think I achieved enlightenment,” she says, making me smile against her neck.

“I told you I’d make you see Jesus.”

She hums. “No, no Jesus. Just light and goodness. Pure goodness, with no thoughts or stress or worries in the way. For a few minutes, I seriously wasn’t thinking anything at all.”

“Are you saying I fucked you stupid?”

“Yes,” she says with a happy sigh before shaking her head. “No, I think simple is a better word. Simple is pretty amazing when you think about it. Something that’s so right it doesn’t inspire any questions. It just is. And it’s good.”

I do think about it and decide I like her snuggly and philosophical. “You may be right, but I would prefer a different adjective.”

“Is that right?” She rolls over, resting her cheek on the pillow next to mine, a grin curving her lips. “Good isn’t good enough for you, Mr. Prince?”

“Not nearly good enough. Not from where I’m sitting.” I brush a wavy lock of hair from her flushed face. “You’re much better than good, Miss Pickett.”

“You too,” she says, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek. “I’m starving. What about you?”

“Famished. I’ll go see if they’ve delivered breakfast and start coffee.”

“Perfect. I’ll grab a quick shower and be right out.” She rolls out of bed with another happy sigh and floats into the bathroom. I watch her go, admiring the heart-shaped curve of her ass before slipping from between the sheets and into a pair of track pants and a tee shirt.

I head out to the front porch to fetch the basket of breakfast foods included with our stay, and by the time Penny emerges in a fluffy white robe, I have coffee made and poured. We take our mugs and plates filled with fresh fruit and homemade blueberry muffins to the sunny back porch where the spring morning is warm enough to hint at the summer around the corner and watch the squirrels go crazy while we eat.

It’s a simple thing—shared food in the sun with rodent entertainment—but I can’t remember the last time I felt so content.

The contentment lasts until Penny reminds me that the simplicity isn’t going to last forever. “I’ve been thinking about round two with Phillip.” She props her bare feet on the top of the railing enclosing the back deck, pops a raspberry between her lips, and chews thoughtfully. “I definitely have to up my game.”

“You do,” I agree, “but I’m going to up my game, too. As soon as we’re finished eating, I’m going to run a background check on the ass goblin. If we get lucky, the basic search will turn up something, if not I should have time to—”

“No, no background check.” Penny shakes her head, her attention trained on the squirrels bouncing back and forth between the trees. “I appreciate the thought, but I don’t want to take it there. I don’t want to ruin Phillip. And if I did, I wouldn’t need the background check. I could just leak the details of our past relationship to the press and let the gossip machine run wild.”

My eyebrows arch. “You mean they don’t know that you and Phillip were together before he and your mother were together? What about the tabloids? I thought you said they covered the story when you nearly drowned.”

She nods. “They did, but it was just a star’s kid goes wild piece. Nothing about Phillip and me. Back when we dated the first time, we spent most of our time hanging out at my house. Not many people at school knew about it and the second time we dated it was only for a few weeks. As long as Phillip and I both keep our mouths shut, chances are the truth will never come out.”

“Unless—”

“And that’s just fine with me,” she interrupts in a firm voice. “And better for my sisters, who shouldn’t have to live with Anastasia when she’s in the middle of press-induced drama.” She lifts one terrycloth-covered shoulder and lets it fall. “Besides, like I said, I don’t want to ruin Phillip’s life; I just want to escape the shadow he casts.”

I nod patiently. “I understand. And I understand not wanting to spill information that would draw negative attention to you or your sisters. But cutting a human spoon full of herpes down to size has been known to reduce the length of his shadow. Just something for you to think about…”

I shrug like I couldn’t care less what she decides, even though I’m dying to dig into Phillip’s past and see what other incriminating, non-Penny-related dirt I can find on him. The smug prick needs to be taken down and I’m just the bastard to do it.

Penny chuckles. “No. But I do enjoy your names for Phillip. I would like them gathered into a coffee table book, paired with horrifying illustrations.” She sticks out her tongue, shuddering before she pops another berry between her lips. “I can’t believe I ever found him attractive.”

“Really?” I study her covertly while pressing the muffin crumbs from my plate onto a finger. “He’s a good looking guy. A shit stick, but good looking, I’ll give him that.”

Her nose wrinkles and she seems to have trouble swallowing. “Ew. No.” She reaches for her mug, taking a healthy swig of coffee. “I can’t see it. At all. When I look at him now, all I see is evil. Gleeful evil. He doesn’t regret a single terrible thing he’s done, as long as it gets him closer to being as famous as my mother.”

“How’s that going for him?” I ask, pleased by her response. I’ve been telling myself I don’t care if she’s still as hung up on Phillip as she is hurt by him, but that’s a dirty lie. I don’t want her to be hung up on another man, especially a slimy taint biscuit like Phillip. It would be just like Rachael.

The thought freezes me mid-chew.

No, it wouldn’t be anything like Rachael. Rachael and I were in love, planning a future together, and taking the occasional cruise through the nicer Manhattan jewelry stores, slowing as we passed the engagement ring section. Penny and I are just friends and co-workers.

And now lovers…

I shoot her another sideways glance to find her studying me expectantly. I blink. “What?”

“I asked if you ever watch TV.”

I clear my throat with a laugh. “Sorry. Haven’t had enough coffee. Yeah, I watch the important stuff, like Sports Central, Comedy Connection, and the Earth Channel.”

“Really?” Her eyes light up. “I’m addicted to the Earth Channel. They have some amazing programming. As a cultural anthropologist, I’m pretty fussy about my documentaries on indigenous cultures, but they do it right. A lot of integrity and a commitment to recording a way of life without imposing western mores on the narrative.”

I hum around the rim of my mug, holding her gaze as I set it back down on the glass table between us. “You’re sexy when you use big words.”

She bites her lip as she smiles. “Well, thanks. You, too. I did a little googling on the psychological impacts of enclothed cognition the other day after you mentioned it. I’ll confess I was a little turned on by the time I was finished.”

“How about you come over here and I’ll get you a lot turned on.” I reach for her, but she laughs and swats my hand away.

“No, we have to focus. We’ve only got a few hours before we have to be at the luncheon. So, as I was saying, if you watched television you would have recognized Phillip from Law and Love, Violent Crimes Unit. He’s in his third season and was nominated for an Emmy award this year. He’s also headlined a couple of different Broadway revivals.”

The information makes me grumpy. My lip curls. “And you’re sure you don’t want me to do something about that? A little scandal goes a long way when someone’s in the public eye.”