Tight (7 page)

“Get up,” he growled. “I need to be inside of you
now
.”

His hands were suddenly on my wrists, stopping my motion on his cock. Lifting me to my feet, I was on the bed before I could think, my back dragging across the duvet as he put me into place.

A slowing of time. His hands firm and patient as they spread my legs, opened me before him. Any concern I had over my naked body, the pounds I really should have shed before hitting vacation mode in a bikini ... everything was wiped away by the shudder in his sigh, the look in his eyes as he drank me in, his fingers opening me up, his mouth lowering for a few back-arching seconds as his tongue dipped inside of me.

Then he withdrew. Dragged his fingers down my legs and stopped at my ankle. Worked the strap with his fingers, caressed the curves of my foot as he pulled off the stiletto.

“Is this what you want?”

“My shoes to be taken off?”

The heel dropped to the floor with a soft thud. I looked down, past the V of my legs, at the naked man before me, a hand settling on the outward jut of his cock, wrapping around its base, stroking it as he stared at me, met my eyes, for one silent moment. Salty air swept over my skin, my legs still spread, fingers of coolness softly brushing over my open slit. I was so wet I could feel a drop sliding down the crack of my ass.

“This. What I’m about to do. Is it what you want?”

“Yes.” I didn’t need to hesitate before speaking the words. I didn’t need to think, to analyze. I threw reason and safety and good decisions out the window as soon as I walked through the door to this suite. I traded logic for a touch that I desperately craved, a connection that was dropping that perfect cock and moving to my other foot. Working the straps to that heel. Fingers teasing the arch and ankle there.

The heel came off in his hand, and he tossed it away. Gripped my ankle, moved his knees on the bed, until he was before me, his cock placed against the wet mound. His hands on my inner thighs, delicate movements that were turning rougher, stronger. He pressed on the back of my knees, lifted my legs until my thighs brushed my stomach, shoved forward with his hips, and dragged his hardness back and forth over my clit.

I whimpered. I couldn’t help myself. I could feel the loss of control, feel the breakdown of my mind as pleasure took over and I became a loose mess of want before him. I was so close to begging, needed his cock an inch lower so badly I was two steps away from taking that matter into my own hands. “Please.” The word slipped from my lips as he continued, the underside of his cock now slick with my juices, the steady drag on my clit so perfect that my plea was suddenly counterproductive seeing as the only thing I wanted to do right then was stay in the moment until I broke.

Shove, pull. Shove, pull. I propped myself up to get a better look, the eroticism of seeing his bare cock, head and shaft tight to the point of ripping, the muscles in his stomach sliding under the tan skin, the evidence of my arousal, my need growing. His skin in the moonlight, reflections of white in his eyes, the groan from his mouth that told me his self-control was as stretched as my own.

I didn’t want to come like this. From just the rub of his cock. How tightly stretched was my arousal that just this brush with him could bring me to my knees? I pushed against his chest, squirmed underneath him. “Please, I can’t. I’m about to...”

“I need it.” His gruff voice was close to my ear. The consistent firm strokes continued, the pump of his cock back and forth, back and ... OH MY.

I stopped it somehow. Gasped for breath. Tried to focus. Tried to fight a battle I was seconds from losing. I didn’t know why I was fighting it. How I was managing. All I knew was that every second was incredible, and I didn’t want to lose it—couldn’t lose it. Not right now. Not just yet. I needed another ten seconds, or fifty, or five hundred. I needed this man to never stop anything he was doing, to—

My elbows gave out and I collapsed, my back bucking, every muscle in my legs contracting as the purest form of ecstasy blinded my world, gripped my heart, and shuddered through my body.

***

A metallic scrape. The rip, crackle. I saw a bit of gold flutter to the scrunched fabric of the white duvet. Moving my eyes to between my legs, I saw the hot brand of his cock lift, busy in his hands, wrapped and secured, then his hands stilled, and I pulled my eyes up, over his stomach, which moved slightly with heavy breaths. Up over the strength of his chest, the defined muscles in his shoulders, the shadow on his face, the swollen curve of his lips. His eyes, blazing with intensity, watched me carefully as he growled out a sigh. I didn’t move, didn’t pull my eyes from him, but felt the weight of latexed cock against my sensitive clit as he leaned forward slightly, a finger surprising me when he pressed it through the seal of my pussy.

A moan sighed through my lips at the change in his eyes that occurred, the drug of arousal moving through them, dulling his spark, his mouth opening further. He closed his eyes for a moment, his finger moving slowly and deliciously inside of me, and then reopened, control reestablished. I didn’t want his control. I wanted him ravaging me, taking me harder, rougher, his strength untapped, sexuality grabbing hold and dragging him by his lapels to the throne of me, where he would forever be my sexual slave.

“Are you sure?”

I groaned in response, his finger cupping, stroking. My core so wet I was shaking for him.

“Answer me. I need to hear it.” His voice was rough. Control shaken.
Good
.

I opened my eyes and reestablished contact. Let him see the resolution there. “Yes. Please. Now.”

He leaned forward, braced himself above me on the bed, his face a foot from mine, my vision filled with the beautiful look of Brett, and shifted his hips down slightly and thrust.

Mother of—I whimpered, reached up and gripped his shoulders, pulled him closer as my mouth opened in silent exclamation. It had been too long. I couldn’t go without it for that long ever again. On second thought, maybe the reason this felt so incredible was because I had been without. But either way, the stretch of my muscles around his cock ... the heat inside me as he slowly thrust, in and out, back and forth, my silent cries turning a little louder, becoming words, moans, begs, pleas. “Don’t ever stop ... Brett—I...”

He gave it to me slow. Let me adjust before his speed picked up, thrusts roughening right at the moment when I was ready for it. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Dug my heels into the lickable meat of his ass. Squeezed the heat of his skin with my legs, stared up into his face as he buried his cock in repeated succession, the quickened pace containing an edge of desperation, of wild inhibition.

“Right there, I’m about to...”

I bellowed, the howl of a woman overtaken, and he groaned at the sound, lowered his face to my neck, inhaled my scent as my voice broke. I lost all focus, all ability to understand anything but that he hadn’t stopped, hadn’t slowed, was carrying me on this high which would not stop until it took hold of my soul and made me his own.

He pulled me back to life, gripped my face with both hands, lowering his face to mine, and dove into my mouth. Kissed me strong. Ragged breaths between deep kisses, his cock continued its steady thrust, my hands greedy against his chest, scraping across the ridges of his side, scratching lines of need into his back. Then he broke the kiss, his hands tightening a little on my face, our eyes holding until a groan dragged from his throat, his eyes closing, head dropping, thrusts slowing and deepening, until he was buried and still inside of me. His hands dropped my face, my name rolled off his lips as he eased down, his body flush to mine, and it felt, in that moment, like we were fused—souls, bodies, and mind—completely together.

My cell was ringing. I heard the familiar tune, the beats dragging me awake, my hand fumbling over the empty bedside table. I woke more, hanging half off the bed as my fingers tripped over carpet until they encountered my purse. I answered it a second short of too late. “Hello?”

“You slut!” The screech of Tammy’s voice was way too loud, and I pulled the phone away from my ear. Blinked in the darkness. Tried to figure out where I was. One bed, not two. Room twice as big as the one I spent the prior night in. Movement came from behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to see well over six feet of dark gorgeousness watching me, on his side, the dawn light contrasting with the intense look that he rocked so well. ‘Good morning,’ he mouthed, his hand reaching out, wrapping around my waist and pulling me flat on my back. He stayed on one side, head propped up on one hand, eyes on my face.

“What do you want?” I mumbled into the phone.

“I just got back to the room. I know your prude ass can’t be shacking up with that delicious piece of man you left with last night.”

“I can’t talk right now.”

“You know wheels are going up in three hours.”

“Then you should get some more beauty rest.”

A snort. The beginning of some lecture. I hung up the phone, locked it and tossed it onto the floor in the direction of my purse, before rolling toward Brett and closing my eyes. I tried to memorize the look of him in morning shadows. It’s a good look. Way too good of a look. “I’ve got to go back to my room.”

“No you don’t.” He bent over, pressing a kiss on my collarbone. Pulled at the sheet, and revealed a breast. He exhaled, moved his mouth to that spot with soft kisses until I pushed him off. Cuddled into the crook of his shoulder. Rested my head on him when he laid back against the pillows.

“I have to go back home.”

“When?” The word vibrated through his chest, and I rolled closer into him. Ran my hand over his chest.

“One. Which means I need to pack, and shower...”

“...and eat breakfast.”

I looked up. “Maybe.”

“I’ve been told that I’m excellent at ordering room service.”

“I’ve been told that I’m excellent at eating it.”

***

We ate on the bed like kids, cross-legged, cartoons on the TV, trays on the crumpled sheets before us. I leaned over, swigged a generous swallow of mimosa from the flute and then returned it to the bedside table. “So ... Mister...” I tilted my head at him. “I don’t know your last name.”

He scowled. Brought a forkful of omelet to his mouth and chewed thoroughly before swallowing, the clench of his jaw as he ate drawing my attention to the strong curves of his face, the way dark stubble made the green of his eyes pop. The gulp of his throat was, in itself, somehow sexy. “Jacobs.”

“Jacobs. Why the Bahamas, Mr. Jacobs?”

“Isn’t that a question you should have asked me before you...”

I raised my eyebrows as he struggled for words. “Before I what?”

He met my playful gaze. “Trusted me with your body.”

I shrugged. “Jena has your business card. She makes a practice of digging into every aspect of my life. I’m sure she has your blood type and latest draft of your résumé by this point. She hasn’t called to warn me of anything, so I think my body is safe in your hands.”

When his eyes darkened, they became hunter green. A heart-stopping change. Intensity looked incredible on this man. “I fish.”

My eyes picked up on his tan, the flex of his forearms as he reached forward and snagged a piece of toast. I suddenly wanted to see him on the deck of a boat, wearing only swim trunks. The flex of his muscles as he battled a fish. The break of his smile when he caught a prize. I’d never seen him during the day. When the sun reflected in those eyes. I looked down, scooped up a spoonful of grits, and brought them to my mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. Looked back to find him watching me.

“Have you caught anything this trip?”

His mouth twitched. “Been too busy with a certain blonde to get any time in.”

“Ahhh ... sure. Blame your bad luck on me.” I shot him a look he found humorous, his mouth splitting into an easy grin.

I was digging out grapes from the fruit bowl when he spoke. “Stay a few more days with me.”

I paused my quest for red ones. “I can’t. I have work tomorrow.” As I spoke the words I realized how out of character they were for me. Blaming work instead of the fact that staying here, with a stranger, was foolhardy. How strange that I wanted to stay. The warm buzz, the state of euphoria that seemed to accompany every moment in this man’s presence ... it was a high I hadn’t experienced in a long time. New love. Love that—at previous interactions—skipped along on its merry way after a few weeks. My last experience with this heady, butterflies in my tummy, elation in my heart feeling was ... high school? Back when I had fresh, unwounded eyes. Before I realized the selfishness and deceit that we, as adults, hold. The ugly truths of life that pull apart love and make our relationships obligation-centers that carry us from year to year, transition to transition.