Authors: Mari Carr
“It’s not
that
small.”
He gave her his address and she plugged his cell number into
her phone in case they got separated on the trip to his home. She gave him her
number as well. Jarod walked around the block and waited until she was behind
him before heading toward his house.
As she drove in silence, she had to admit Jarod had a valid
point. Being alone gave her too much time to think about what she was about to
do.
She wasn’t having second thoughts about the sex part. She
rarely did. She’d long ago given up caring what society thought about women who
embarked on sexual affairs. She liked sex a lot and she didn’t feel the need to
apologize for that. There were too many double standards attached to the
physical act as far as she was concerned.
Her doubts in regards to Jarod had nothing to do with the
physical attraction. That was irrefutable and she wasn’t the sort of person to
deny herself something she wanted.
Her unease centered on the man himself. She’d never felt
such an instant connection to anyone. He was getting into her head and under
her skin. A state she simply wasn’t comfortable with.
Her cell phone rang. Glancing at the number, she laughed.
“Yes?”
“You’re still following me. I’m taking that as a good sign.”
She smiled at his taillights, turning left when he did.
“Don’t get too cocky. It’s still hit or miss back here.”
His sigh was loud enough to carry through the line. “Yeah,
that’s what I thought. Figured I’d call to distract you.”
“That’s cheating.”
“I’m a desperate man.”
God. Everything was so easy with him. They’d talked for
three hours at the bar and the time had flown by. He was funny, intelligent,
interesting and she’d found herself sharing things about herself she’d told
very few people.
“You’ve gone quiet,” he said. “What’s going on in that sexy
brain of yours?”
“There has to be something wrong with you.”
“I told you what’s wrong with me. I’m too nice.” She could
tell from the tone in his voice, she’d amused him.
“Don’t be absurd. That’s the dumbest breakup line in
history. I think that one might top the it’s-not-you-it’s-me bullshit.”
“I’m arrogant, controlling and a homebody. I exercise a
little too compulsively and I leave wet towels on the bathroom floor.”
“Gross.”
“Do you need more?”
“No,” she joked. “I’m still trying to recover from the
wet-towel flaw. That’s a biggie. We should probably call a halt to this now.”
“Stephanie. I know we just met and I know we’re driving to
my house for sex. But I’m not intending for this to be a one-night stand. I
think you’re funny and pretty and I’d like to ask you out for a real date to
see where this thing leads us. I’ve had a great time tonight. Even if you did
turn around and go home right now, I’d still call you tomorrow and I’d still
want to see you again.”
She sighed. Greatest thing a guy had ever said to her. She
wasn’t a romantic and she didn’t believe in love at first sight, but even she
could appreciate the beauty of that line.
“I’m not going anywhere tonight except your bed. Are we
almost there?”
She felt like she could actually hear his smile through the
phone. “Actually, as luck would have it, we’re here.”
He pulled into the driveway of a brick rancher. The front
porch light was on, illuminating a couple of rocking chairs and an
honest-to-God porch swing. The place looked homey and inviting.
“Nice,” she said, as she put the car into park and turned
off the ignition. She was still holding the phone and talking to Jarod, even
though he’d climbed out of his car and was walking toward her.
“Glad you like it,” he said into the receiver, disconnecting
as he opened her car door. “Home sweet home.”
“Gotta admit I expected an apartment or even a condo.”
“I inherited it from my grandmother when she passed away a
few years back. I’ve spent the last three years trying to update the
inside—move the interior design out of the seventies.”
She feigned a wince. “Oh God, don’t tell me. Shag carpet?”
He nodded. “Wall to wall—brown and gold. But not to worry,
that’s all gone now. Ripped that shit up the first weekend I moved in.”
He took her hand and helped her out of the car. She grabbed
her purse then engaged the locks as he led her up the porch stairs to the front
door.
He put the key in the lock then turned to look at her. She
expected him to ask her if she was sure she wanted to come in. Instead, he
surprised her. “I’m really glad you’re here, Stephanie. Never thought I’d say
this, but I feel like crime paid today.”
“Open the door, Jarod.”
Chapter Four
Jarod stepped over the threshold with Stephanie, trying to
calm the nervous anticipation stirring inside him. He wasn’t a monk. He’d dated
lots of women and he’d held more than a few overnights in his house, but for
some reason, he was putting some sort of significance on this night. He wanted
Stephanie to like his house and he was praying they were compatible in bed. God
knew they seemed to be a perfect match out of it.
He’d laughed when she’d asked what his flaws were. He
suspected she hadn’t meant to speak that question aloud, but he agreed with the
sentiment. For the past few hours, he’d talked to and listened to Stephanie
Harper, wondering how in the hell she was still single.
“How old are you?”
She didn’t seem shocked by his abrupt question.
“Twenty-nine. How old are you?”
“Thirty-three.”
He walked to the end table by the sofa and turned on a lamp.
She looked around as he studied her face for a reaction to
his house. It was ridiculous to be so proud of four walls and a roof, but he’d
put a lot of blood, sweat and some serious cash into the place, and for some
strange reason, Stephanie’s opinion of it mattered.
“I didn’t peg you for a colors guy.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “Saw you as off-white all the way.”
He grinned. “I hate white. Grew up in an all-white
house—spotless walls, spotless floors, everything pristine and perfect. Sort of
made life rough for a boy with dirty hands who tracked mud wherever he went.
Always swore when I got my own place, I’d make it hard to see the dirt.”
“All boy, huh? Now
that
I can see. And this place
doesn’t look that dirty. Pretty neat for a bachelor’s pad.”
He shrugged. He’d cleaned the house top to bottom as part of
the special dinner celebration he’d planned for Cheryl—pre-breakup. Jarod
wasn’t too keen to let Stephanie know what a schmuck he’d been for trying to
impress his ex-girlfriend on the night she’d dumped him. Usually, the place
looked a lot more lived-in and, well, messy.
“Want a tour?”
She tilted her head and gave him a sultry smile. “Can it
start and end in the bedroom?”
“Jesus. Anyone ever tell you you’re perfect?”
“Horny equals perfection?”
He reached out to grip her by the waist. Pulling her close,
he relished the nearness of her body and was reminded of her question in the
car. “I’ve been watching you for hours, Stephanie Harper, and with the
exception of your questionable parking habits, I can’t find a damn thing wrong
with you either.”
She snorted, dismissing his compliment out of hand. “I’m
bossy, sarcastic and I tend to think I know it all. I hate spinach, cooked fruit
and I never put the cap back on the toothpaste.”
He winced. “Gotta admit I hate that last one. Nothing worse
than toothpaste globs in the sink.”
She put her hands on his chest, letting her fingers drift
down his shirt. “It’s still early, Jarod. Chances are pretty good this is a
fluke. Come morning, we’ll wonder what we saw in each other.”
He moved his hands from her waist to her hips, dragging her
closer to his cock. “You always so optimistic?”
“I prefer realistic.”
He leaned forward, letting his lips drift over the soft skin
of her cheek. “Fair enough. We’ll enjoy tonight and let the War of the Roses
begin tomorrow.”
“Have we talked enough?”
He nipped her earlobe, and then pressed a long kiss on her
neck, enjoying her satisfied groan. “Definitely.”
As they made their way down the hallway to the master
bedroom, they left a trail of clothing in their wake, making a lot of pit stops
along the way for kissing and touching. By the time they arrived in his room,
he was shirtless, shoeless and his jeans were unzipped. To his delight,
Stephanie was in a similar state. Leading her to the bed, he wrapped his arms
around her to unhook her lacy bra.
“Wait a minute,” he said, when she started to pull the
material away. He turned on the nightstand lamp. “I want to see you.”
She gave him a seductive wink as the room was cast in soft
lighting. She was confident, sensuous, beautiful. He hadn’t met many women so
comfortable in their own skin.
“I think we’ve entered the party-naked phase of the
evening,” she teased.
“Thank God for that.”
She pulled her bra off, dropping it to the floor. For one
long moment, Jarod was rooted to the spot. Stephanie was built. He was a breast
man and proud of it. Her breasts were full, perky and made for sucking. Unable
to resist, he bent forward and took one nipple into his mouth, claiming the
other with his hand.
She gasped at his hasty touch before reaching up, gripping
his hair tightly in her fingers. “God that feels good,” she murmured as he
increased the suction, teasing the tight nub with his teeth.
He switched breasts, pushing slightly until Stephanie sat on
the edge of the bed. He followed her down, kneeling on the floor between her
legs. “I want to fuck you here,” he said, pinpointing his desire by dragging
his tongue along the valley between her breasts.
“Mmm. Okay. I have a bit of free time now. I think I could
work you into my schedule.”
He chuckled at her haste. He shared that same impatience. He
wanted to take her a thousand different ways at once. One night wouldn’t be
enough.
“Later. After.” She’d reduced his vocabulary down to single
words. Soon he’d be grunting like a fucking caveman. He gripped the waistband
of her jeans and panties. She rose slightly, helping him pull them over her
legs and off. The second she was naked, he pushed her legs apart and bent
forward once more, this time aiming lower.
She moaned loudly as he swept his tongue along the slit
between her legs, getting his first taste of her sweet juices. Her hands flew
to his shoulders and he suspected she was simply looking for something solid to
hang on to. Her legs hung loosely off the edge of his bed as he rubbed her clit
with his tongue, rapidly.
“Fuck. I could come right now.” Her fingers tightened on his
shoulders, her grip almost painful. He wondered if he’d have bruises there
tomorrow. Her rough passion matched his.
“Do it,” he urged, nipping her clit with his teeth as he
pushed one, then two fingers into her pussy. He’d thrust no more than half a
dozen times when her inner muscles contracted, clenching forcefully against
him, flooding his fingers with her arousal. Her climax was fast, hard, and he
liked how vocal she was.
“God, yes,” she yelled. “Jesus, Jarod.”
He continued to press inside, drawing out her orgasm as long
as possible. He felt lightheaded from a lack of blood supply to the brain. His
cock was about to burst. He’d been too hard, too long. He’d warned her the
first round would be fast, but as she continued to thrust and gyrate against
his fingers, he worried this inaugural event would actually be a solo mission.
He was seconds away from coming in his pants.
Jarod pulled away slowly, taking several deep, painful
breaths as he tried to calm the demands of his own body. For a few moments,
both of them remained still. Stephanie had fallen back on the bed, her
breathing heavy, labored as she recovered.
He closed his eyes and counted to twenty. When that failed
to bring his cock under control, he headed to fifty.
He was on sixty-two when Stephanie spoke. “You okay?”
He opened his eyes and looked at her. Shaking his head, he
tried to smile. “If I try to take off my jeans, I’m going to come.”
She reacted exactly as he expected. She laughed, a
beautiful, trilling sound that resonated right to the heart of him. Stephanie
might not believe in love at first sight, but he sure as hell was starting to.
After a few mirthful moments, she sat up, her face still
covered with a mischievous grin. “How about if we’re veery, veery careful?”
“This isn’t funny.”
“You’re right,” she said, her voice belying her words, “this
is a serious situation.”
“Laugh it up now, bar girl, because I promise you, payback
is a bitch.”
She wasn’t chastened. “Stand up.”
He took one more deep, steadying breath and gritted his
teeth as he rose. His cock twitched and his eyes drifted closed as the denim rubbed
against a sensitive pressure point.
“Wow,” she said, looking up at him from where she sat on his
bed. “You weren’t lying. You
are
close.”
She reached out to grip his waistband and he grabbed her
wrists. “Gently,” he cautioned.
“Don’t worry,” she said as she slowly worked his jeans over
his hips. “I have a plan.”
He held his breath as she worked the material of his pants
and boxers away from his cock. Jarod didn’t suck in an ounce of air until he
felt his jeans hit his ankles. For a split second, he thought he was home free.
He’d take a few minutes to get his act together then he’d put on a condom and
give Miss Harper a hard, albeit fast, ride.
That plan was wiped away the second Stephanie’s lips
engulfed the head of his cock.
“Fuck!” He gripped her head, intent on pushing her away, but
she moved fast, taking him deeper into her hot, wet mouth.
He was a goner. She sucked him deeply, retreating only twice
before taking him all the way to her throat. His fingers tightened in her hair
and she moaned. It wasn’t a pained sound; rather, it had a sexy, do-that-again
tone. He pulled with more force and she hummed. The vibrations pushed him over
the cliff and into the abyss. He came quickly and Stephanie was there, drinking
down every red-hot drop.