Whisper (13 page)

Kathleen Lash

made his breath quicken against her ear.

“Don’t stop. Finish it. It’s all right to show me what you want. I want it too.” Hesitantly, she slid denim and her panties down to her mid thighs before losing confidence. The moment of discomfort didn’t last.

Keith turned her sideways, caressed her throat and gently pushed her chin up. “And now I get something else I want.”

She swallowed, gazing into his eyes feeling dazed and weak.

“I want to feel you come with my fingers deep between your legs and my tongue in your mouth. I love the sounds you make and how tight you squeeze me. Will you give that to me?” She nodded and he bent to nibble her smile.

Moist lips parted hers before he slid beyond to seamlessly stroke inside. Her belly quivered, anticipating more. His palm slid down her back, between her cheeks and further, to find her swollen and wet sex. The other hand caressed her belly, abdomen and finally parted her sensitive lips to go beyond to touch her clitoris.

The aroma of the warming roast filled her head as heat from the stove washed over recently exposed skin. A constant spattering of freezing rain pelted the windowpanes to create a steady, soft, lulling sound. Tiny circles of pressure from a fingertip rubbed around and around the sensitive spot high on her sex, as a long, solid finger breached and entered her. The sound of his rapid breaths, the thudding of her heart and the whoosh of rushing blood, filled her ears. The crazy dipping of her stomach and the stream of spasms, escalated until an explosive orgasm throbbed between her legs. Her hips lunged forward and back in a rapid pumping motion as she clung to his arm.

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The darkness behind her closed eyelids turned into a haze of brilliant light. He spread her further with two fingers as his tongue filled her mouth.

Violent tremors expanded into an unbelievable fire in her breasts, belly, thighs, and between her legs.

He gave her unimaginable pleasure and she greedily took it. All he got in return was his tongue sucked and his fingers squeezed and wetted.

When she could hardly stand up, his kisses changed. They became soft and not as urgent, soothing and tender. Long after she should’ve quieted, his fingers slowed and only stroked when she’d tighten around him. The trip down was as exquisite as the one going up and over. Eventually, she became safe and replete, cuddled in his arms as he stroked her back, his thumb trailing her spine.

There’d been no prearrangement, no talk of what he’d expect as payment. With her cheek buried against his shirt, she realized he hadn’t contemplated it.

“Would you mind—be terribly put off,” she said,

“if I wanted something from you?”

“I’m an easy sort of guy, Whisper. Ask. We’ll see if I can’t help.”

She’d never requested what she wanted then.

She’d never really desired it before meeting him. The question formed six different ways before she blurted out a portion. “Would you come upstairs with me?” “Sure.” He didn’t sound hesitant and never questioned why.

He could always change his mind once they got there. If he did, she’d feel like the world’s most accomplished fool. She pulled her pants into place and lowered her shirt.

He’d mastered the stairs over the last several days by holding the railing and hopping on one leg.

She carried his crutches. When they reached the 105

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upper landing, he followed her into the bedroom. Her stomach turned at the scenario running through her mind. Before she lost courage, she closed and locked the door after he’d entered. He stood silent and still in the middle of the room.

The only light came from the partially lifted shades. The darkened room fostered bravery. She grasped the front of his tee-shirt in a fist, and he hobbled to the bed as she pulled. Once there, she took the crutches and leaned them against the wall.

When her hands gripped the bottom of his shirt, she asked, “Are you still okay with this?”
Who was she kidding! Okay with it?
His guts turned over and over and he began sweating from anticipating her tiny, warm hands on any part of his screaming flesh. He’d almost come rubbing against her ass in the kitchen, fully dressed.

Raising the shirt, it didn’t even get over his head before he felt her tongue on a nipple, her hands holding his sides. He groaned and threw the shirt across the room before taking her head gently between his hands and threading his fingers in the soft strands.

In between flicks of her tongue, she said, “I don’t want…” She kissed the center of his chest and then straightened.

His thumbs supported her chin so she’d have to look at him. “What? Tell me so I know.”

“I’d like to touch you, the way you touched me. I want to make you feel what I felt. But, would that be enough? Would it be all right if that’s all that happened?”

“Can you feel my hands shaking?” She nodded. She looked so damned unsure.

“I’d love having your hands on me, anywhere—

hell, baby, everywhere. Take as much or as little as you want.”

Her eyes lit and she smiled before saying, “Kiss 106

Whisper

me, please. Right now, hard, like you did before.” He bent and opened her mouth, held her in place and gave her what she’d requested. He couldn’t decide whose hands shook worse. Consumed with the kiss, some moments later, he found his belt undone and the front of his jeans open. Before she skimmed everything away, he grabbed his wallet.

God only knew why he replaced the packet. The last one practically rotted in there. Maybe he felt lucky when it came to Whisper and some incredible possibilities.

When he’d been bared, he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. Her looking at him had the strangest effect. Could a guy come from nothing more than a woman’s gaze?

She held his shoulders and applied pressure until he sat on the bed. She didn’t waste time when she crouched in front of him to tug off his jeans, boxers and socks.

“Lay down for me? I’ll make you comfortable,” she said.

He did and she propped his leg with pillows. His erection throbbed and ached, screaming to be touched. When she sat next to him and stretched an arm across him to lean on, she began touching and fondling him. Like the last time, his hands shook too much to get the damned rubber out of the wrapper.

She took care of it, slowly rolling it down his aching, straining flesh.

“God, Whisper!”

Her hand lifted. “Am I hurting you? I didn’t mean to.”

“It hurts when you stop.”

Fingers curled around his shaft and she gently pumped him once.

“Shit! Again!”

“You’re so sensitive.” Her soft, little voice had a seductive quality. She knew what she’d done.

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He’d forgive her if she’d do it some more. “Oh, shit, I won’t last. You get me so damned hot. That’s it, God, stroke me.” He closed his eyes and gave in.

He’d lose it in seconds and didn’t care. If he was too fast off the mark, she’d done it to him.

“You’re so hard, baby.” Her using the pet name with her drawl made him shudder. It sounded so sexy coming from her soft voice. “It’s all right; you’re too wound up to let me feel you for very long. Let it happen and next time you’ll enjoy it more.”
Next time!
He obeyed and doubled up as he burst and creamed the hand fisting him, pumping him to climax. Falling back against the bed, he grunted and made inhuman noises. He’d never been brought off so quickly. She made it good though, working him through every delicious pulse until he lay limp and panting.

Sleet beat against the windows, and the room grew darker as she handled some of the aftermath of his pleasure. Yawning, he decided the incredible release took care of the pent up desire from night after night of burning, sex filled dreams. Damn, he’d make sure next time he lasted longer.

“Are you comfortable?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah, extremely.”

“Can I ask another favor?”

“Anything.”

“Your arms up like that, with your hands under your head—does it hurt?”

“Not a bit,” he replied before another yawn got away.

“Your back, you’re not pulling the stitches in that position?”

“Nope. Everything feels good.”

“Would you leave your hands under your head if I asked you to?”

“Sure, Whisper.”

“Do you have more?”

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“Huh?”

“Protection.”

“Sure, dresser drawer.” He yawned and his eyes watered.

The bed moved and he couldn’t care. At least he didn’t until she came around to the other side and nudged his hip.

“Lift up for me, Keith.”

“Okay,” he said, bracing himself with his good leg and lifting his hips. A cold, stiff pillow went under his ass and his eyes opened. “Baby?” He turned to find Whisper getting another pillow. With her shirt and bra missing, his mouth watered when she came close. She touched his hip and he rose up again, mesmerized by the sway of her breasts. Damn, they were perfect with thick, dark nipples. She curved in all the right places with a long slender torso flaring into some attractive hips.

Indiscriminate clothes generally concealed her fantastic body. Why the hell did she hide herself?

At the foot of the bed, she shifted his right leg and pushed until he bent it. She crawled between his leg and cast, moving him as necessary to make room.

Spread kind of wide and propped up, he had a clear view of where she headed. She licked a trail up the inside of his thigh. By the time she got to the good stuff, blood automatically diverted where she’d probably want it. He wasn’t tired anymore.

“We have a bargain, right?” She placed a fresh condom over him and smoothed it with her tongue.

“Huh?” he asked, unable to focus on much but where she’d lick next.

“Your hands. They’ll stay where they are?” she asked, before tasting a very tender area below the base of his erection.

“Jesus,” he said, unable to arch, stretch or move.

With a bent leg, his hips raised, and his hands
trapped
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doing that and I won’t promise a thing. Shit! Do you have any idea—damn! How incredible—God!” He didn’t get an answer as her wet tongue gave long, languid strokes. He couldn’t help howling because her mouth felt that damn outstanding.

She’d never hold out long enough, because he’d never get enough. When her tactics changed, he settled down to see what she’d do next.

Working her way up his hard shaft, she teased and gave small licks and nibbles until he raised his eyes. God, she looked right at him as her lips opened and tongue shot out for a taste. He’d never seen anything so sexy. Especially from a seemingly shy woman who didn’t want to have sex with him.

She took him slowly and when she got him in deep, her eyes closed like she’d discovered some delicacy. His eyes closed too. They didn’t need to stay open. The vision of her taking him in, was burned into memory. The sensations to go with it wouldn’t be forgotten either.

Like the first night she’d used her mouth, she took her time. When he’d get close and ready, she’d back off and slow everything down. The fourth time she took him to the edge, he started begging.

“Please, baby, make it happen this time.”

“Mmm.”

“Ugh!” He loved when she sucked him. “I’m begging. Is that what you want?” She became more enthused.

“I’m slow but not stupid. What’ll it take?” Nothing changed. He lay trapped, ready to erupt but couldn’t.

“Harder, Whisper.”

She complied.

He figured out what she wanted. “Your tongue.

That’s it, flatten it out and wiggle it just—like—

that!” His heart hammered in his chest, his stomach muscles bunched and he burned. He reached high, 110

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grabbed the headboard and hung on. He couldn’t take much more.

“Faster baby, deeper.”

A hand cupped him and fingers curled around the very base of his shaft.

“Please don’t stop. Almost there.” He swelled and strained and oh, God, did he gush. Promises forgotten, his hands smoothed through her hair, rubbing her scalp, demonstrating how mind-blowing the experience was. She murmured, like she’d gotten pleasure herself. He couldn’t fathom it. She kept things going until nothing remained but weakness and satisfaction. Out of breath, he coaxed her to lie close. He could sleep for days but sensed her tension.

Her denim covered thighs squeezed together tightly.

When he accidently brushed a hard nipple, she made a small, needy sound. He couldn’t believe she’d gotten excited from sucking him. He cupped a breast and she moaned and arched. God, she’d burn him alive!

“Take your pants down so I can get between your legs.”

“No.” She was panting and her skin practically burned. “It’s okay. No.”

It wasn’t all right, but he’d make it that way.

“You need me.”

“No.”

“Like before.” He sensed the problem. He’d broken a promise when he couldn’t keep his hands where she wanted. “I can’t do anything more. You took care of that. If I get out of line, you could get away because Mr. Stumpy’s resting on the pillows.

I’m stuck.”

She started laughing and he turned toward her as much as his leg allowed. “You’re aching. Let me take care of you.”

When he tried to kiss her, she turned away.

“You don’t have to.”

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“You didn’t either. I want you.” Touching her cheek, he brought her back. He needed her mouth and she acted like she needed his.

The sleet finally tapered and a few rays of sun lit the room. As they kissed and touched each other, her hands strayed to the front of her jeans.

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“They’re taking him into surgery,” Whisper said into the cell phone.

She’d gone with Keith to the orthopedic surgeon at the hospital for a routine follow up exam and x-rays. The news wasn’t good. One of the plates in his leg had shifted.

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” Mark replied.

“Don’t. Please. He told me not to call until after.”

“Why?”