Play It Again (21 page)

But then her hand reaches between us, her
fingertips smoothing over the tip of my cock, and fuck me, but I
take it as an invitation.

An invitation to stop thinking.

My tongue darts out, stroking along the seam
of her lips, and she willingly opens herself to me.

I kiss her deeply, single-mindedly, as my
hands move from her hips to her ass, pulling her flush against me.
She gasps, and then moans, digging her fingers into my hair and
pressing herself closer still, grinding her core against my
throbbing erection.

I groan at the pressure, rocking my hips up
into her, my cock desperate for more.

More friction.

More pressure.

More of her.

I’ve never wanted to be inside a woman so
much, or wanted to see a woman come as much as I do at this moment.
I want to taste her, touch every inch of her body, feel her come on
my hand, on my cock.

Piper breaks the kiss well before I’m ready
and instant disappointment washes over me. She smirks at me, a
one-sided lift of her lips, as she reaches up to the back of her
neck and tugs the tie holding up her top.

I’m stunned speechless.

I watch the scant clothing fall, hanging
around her middle, leaning back to stare at her as she reaches
behind her back and pulls the second tie, letting her bikini top
tumble to my lap.

Damn, she has nice tits. Round and perky,
with tight pink nipples that are begging to be touched, licked,
sucked on.

“We do this,” I say, my voice a soft, near
growl, “then you’re in my bed and no one else’s, yeah?”

She tenses at my words and a bright flush
paints her cheeks. “Vance, please …” she whimpers. “There’s no
other bed I want to be in. Just … please …”

Shit. I don’t even know how to explain the
elation that floods through me at hearing those words.

I grin at her. “Please what? Tell me what you
want, freckles.”

Piper growls at me—literally growls—and cocks
an eyebrow, her expression equal parts nervous, frustrated, and
challenging.

She’s daring me to take over.

She’s nervous that I will.

“Jesus, you’re so damn pretty,” I say, and
though it nearly kills me, I ignore her perfect tits for a moment,
leaning in and capturing her mouth once more.

Piper melts, the tension evaporates, and she
kisses me back, frantic and needy.

It’s … awesome.

She’s awesome.

Panting, her hands roam my skin, tug at my
jeans, as I trace my tongue along her jaw, kissing down the column,
along her shoulder, before dipping my head and capturing her pert
nipple between my teeth, nipping and sucking at it.

“Vance,” she moans, writhing on my lap.
“Please.”

“I got you, freckles.”

I kiss along her collarbone as I move my hand
between us. The warmth radiating from her core makes me shiver and
she inhales sharply as I slip my fingers into her bikini bottom,
groaning when I feel her arousal.

Piper dips her head, searching out my mouth
and kissing me hard as I slide two fingers deep inside her.

“Oh, God …” she gasps as I stroke my thumb
over her clit with each pump of my fingers. Within mere seconds,
her body tightens, and her core flutters and squeezes against my
digits buried inside her. She tilts her head back, arching her back
and squeezing my shoulders as her orgasm rushes through her.

So damn pretty.

Piper lets her head fall to my shoulder,
breathing hard as she kisses my neck. She squeaks out a
high-pitched moan as I slowly remove my fingers from her center,
shifting slightly, to dig out my wallet, looking for a condom. I
pull it out, tossing the wallet beside us. It bounces off the
couch, hitting the floor with a muted thud.

Lifting my hips, I fumble with my jeans and
boxers, struggling to get them down and release my cock without
letting her off my lap.

I want her where she is.

I want to watch her ride me.

I want her in control.

Pulling the strings at her hips, I tug the
rest of her swimsuit away as she lifts up. She watches as I slide
on the condom, her little pink tongue swiping along her bottom lip,
and seconds later, she’s lowering herself onto my dick.

The first thrust is slow and deep, and I
groan at the sensation. She’s so tight, so wet, I can barely
contain myself, and it’s a goddamn struggle to hold still and give
her a moment to adjust.

Then she starts moving, slow and steady, her
hands tightening on my shoulders, and I lose myself, thrusting up,
picking up the rhythm, taking as much as I can.

I can feel it coming, building inside me. I
reach between us, grazing my thumb over her clit. She lets out a
shriek, squeezing me hard as her body convulses with pleasure, and
I can’t hold it back.

Shivering, I grunt into her mouth as I come,
just as her orgasm starts to fade.

She doesn’t move away, and I don’t let her
go, staying deep inside of her as I hold her against me. Her head
drops back to my shoulder, her raspy breath blowing against my
heated skin. I can feel her frantic pulse, the quick rise and fall
of her chest, and I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of her skin
against mine.

She’s perfect,
I think, squeezing her
tightly.
Absolute perfection.

Piper

“Where are you going?” Vance asks, his voice
rougher, deeper than normal, as his hands grasp onto my hips and he
pulls me back down beside him. I gasp in surprise, tumbling down
onto the couch, and before I can respond, his mouth finds mine and
he kisses me, slowly and thoroughly.

“I thought you were sleeping,” I say when his
mouth leaves mine, my voice no more than a whispered breath.

Sweeping my hair aside, he kisses the side of
my neck, causing a shiver to spread through me. His lips trail
along my neck and down my shoulder, pausing to place a kiss on the
spot where they meet. His mouth lingers there as he whispers, “I’m
awake.”

“I see that,” I say on a sigh, closing my
eyes as he settles me back in his arms, maneuvering me to my side,
pinning my back against his chest with no space separating our
naked bodies.

It’s late, well past nine at night, I assume.
I’m not really sure. There are no clocks down here, but the sunset
was at least an hour ago, and it feels like I’ve been lying here,
wrapped up in Vance’s arms, all sweaty and sticky, for hours.

They have been, hands down, the best hours of
my life.

He chuckles in my ear as his hands caress my
skin, slowly sliding down my belly, moving toward the dull ache
between my legs. He trails a finger along my folds, before finding
my clit, stroking and rubbing me, and it doesn’t take long for my
breaths to turn into whimpers.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he whispers.
“Where were you going?”

“I thought …” My breath hitches, my voice
strains as my body tightens, the pressure building up inside me. I
take a sharp breath, releasing it on a whimper.

“You thought …” he prompts, his voice amused,
and perhaps a little cocky.

He has stolen the words right from my
lips.

“I thought I heard …” I try again, shifting
my hips and pressing into his hand in a desperate search for more
friction. I gasp when he circles the little bundle of nerves
quicker and quicker, the rest of the words slipping from my lips, a
disjointed mess of sounds. A moment later, my body tenses at the
release of pleasure.

He hums in my ear, his hand stilling, cupping
the place between my legs. “Love hearing the sounds you make when
you come, freckles.”

I’m embarrassed for a moment and my face
begins to heat, but I don’t have time to dwell on it, because he is
suddenly on top of me, flipping me onto my back, his weight
pressing down on me as he yanks my legs up around his waist.

My back arches involuntarily and I swallow a
gasp as I feel his cock pressing against me, my eyes drifting
closed as it brushes against my sensitive clit, sending small
shocks of pleasure shooting through me.

“Open those eyes, Piper,” he says
quietly.

I do. My eyelids flutter open, my gaze
locking on his. He grins down at me, kissing me quickly, before
pulling back.

I make a sound of protest, lifting up as much
as I can under the weight of his body, trying to reclaim his mouth,
and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Tell me,” he says, “what was it you thought
you heard?”

“What?” I ask, dazed.

“You heard something,” he says, chuckling
softly. “What was it?”

Oh, right.
“A phone ringing.”

All at once, Vance slips away, climbing to
his feet. Another sound of protest slips from my lips, but he
doesn’t pay attention to it, rummaging around on the floor,
scooping up his pants and tugging them on.

He leaves without even looking back, and I
lay there, staring at the steps leading above deck, not
understanding what the heck just happened.

Mercifully, he isn’t gone long so I don’t
have time to agonize over it. I don’t even have time to consider
getting dressed, because he returns after only a few seconds,
slipping back down the steps soundlessly, haphazardly tossing my
bag beside me on the couch, and he mutters that my phone was
ringing too as he taps the screen on his and brings it to his
ear.

Snagging my bag, I rifle through it,
searching for my phone, listening to Vance’s grunted curses as he
listens to his messages.

Oh, crap.

Something’s wrong.

I open my mouth but quickly close it, when my
phone beeps with a new message. Not that I can say anything anyway.
I’m too busy concentrating on not freaking out to speak.

I find my phone—finally—and I look at the
screen. It’s barely after ten, and several messages came through
while I’ve been down here in the cabin, so I tap the screen and
scroll through them.

Kim: Where are you?

Kim: Are you with Vance?

Kim: Why aren’t you guys answering?

Jimmy: Pipes, I don’t want to do this over text
message. Call me. It’s urgent.

Kim: This isn’t the time to go silent on me.

Jimmy: What the hell is the point of having a
fucking cell phone if you’re not going to answer it?

Kim: Please, please, please call me.

Jimmy: I swear to God, if you guys don’t call us
back right now …

Kim: You need to call me back. RIGHT. NOW.

I stare at the screen, blinking at the last
message, feeling my stomach coil tight as I drop the phone onto the
couch beside me, and glance at Vance. His back is to me, and he’s
whispering now, talking to someone on the phone. I don’t know who
he’s talking to or what he’s talking about; his responses are all
short and hissed—one-word answers.

The conversation doesn’t last long, only a
few short seconds before he ends the call, and as he turns to me, I
suddenly feel exposed and very naked.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper as I stand up, and
move across the small area to my dress, quickly slipping it on.

He blinks at me when I look back at him, and
I bite down on my bottom lip, growing more and more concerned when
he doesn’t respond right away, my anxiety making me feel sick.

Years pass, it seems, before Vance
speaks.

“There’s a problem at your house,” he says
quietly, watching me closely.

I feel my whole body tense and coil with a
mix of anxiety and dread. What happened now? Oh God, is this ever
going to end?

“What kind of problem?” My voice is shaky and
hesitant, and my stomach and chest squeeze tight.

Vance’s eyes darken at my question. He hears
my panic. He sees it.

“Shit,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his
face. “Shit, I shouldn’t have brought …” he trails off, mumbling a
fresh array of curses.

His hand drops from his face and my stomach
coils nervously.

“Your house …” he continues, and then stalls,
hesitating for a moment. “Piper, honey, your house is on fire.”

I look up at him and a shocked laugh rocks
from me. My house is on fire. I have no idea what he means by that,
or perhaps it’s just my brain refusing to understand his words, but
his tone tells me it’s not a little kitchen mishap, or a knocked
over candle.

Oh my God.

My house is on fire.

“Jimmy …”

“No one was there,” he says quickly, before I
can finish my thought. “Jimmy was out with his girl when the fire
started.”

“Was this …? Is this …?” I stall. I don’t
even know what I’m trying to ask as I back up a step.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I continue to back up
away from him until my calves hit the couch, and I fall down onto
it. A sob breaks free from my chest, a mix of distress and relief
battling through my system, and he moves to me, crouching down and
reaching forward, pulling me to his chest. I close my eyes and
press my forehead against his shoulder, and I cry.

“Freckles,” he says, the uneasiness seeping
into his tone making my heart squeeze. “Honey, don’t cry.
Firefighters are already there, so is Jase and Wes, Jimmy and Kim.
It’s gonna be okay.”

Sniffling loudly, I pull away from him,
wiping my face with the palms of my hands. “We have to go. I need
to get home.”

“You just stay down here, yeah?” he says,
placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, holding me still as I try
to rise. “I’ll get us back to the docks as quickly as I can.”

I want to help him get us back, but I can’t.
I don’t know how, don’t have a clue what to do, so I do as he says,
staying put on the couch, knowing I’ll just be in the way if I try
to follow him.

My knees shake as I fidget with my dress,
chewing on my bottom lip, as the boat speeds back to the docks. It
feels as though it takes hours for us to stop, and another hour for
Vance to secure the boat and round up our things, before we’re
finally piling into his truck.