Delay of Game (14 page)

My hips rose up to meet her, and she used her hands in conjunction with her lips and tongue.

“Fuck, that’s so good,” I said, or groaned, or something. I kept holding on to the headboard because if I let it go, I would fist my hands in her hair and drive my hips into her, keeping that sweet mouth right where I wanted it until I came.

This was her game, though. This was her show. And that was not how I needed to go about pursuing her the way I’d promised I would.

She slipped one hand down to massage my balls, gently tugging until I groaned. Then she slid her hand back farther, using a fingertip to circle my anus like she’d done earlier with my belly button, and I was done for.

I nearly came right then and there.

No woman had ever touched me like that before. I don’t know if it was more because I wasn’t prepared for the sensation or more because I was just really
that
sensitive there, but I had to put an end to her agonizing attention or I would make a fool of myself.

I reached down to take her face in my palm, and she came up for air with a Cheshire cat grin. She was definitely going to fucking kill me. I might not even make it through the night.

“Come here so I can kiss you,” I said.

She slithered up my body in that slinky nightie, and I pulled her down to my chest and rolled over her until I was pressing her into the bed. I crushed my mouth to hers, tasting myself, tasting sex, tasting life, tasting everything that I could ever imagine wanting or needing, all of it on her tongue.

Tiny, breathy sounds kept coming from her throat, somehow turning me on more than I already was. My hands glided down her body, smooth over the gold satin. I drew her legs apart, and she wrapped them tight around my waist and held on, not allowing any separation.

It was as though she wanted to be close to me as much as I needed to be close to her. No, I needed to be inside her. Part of her. I needed us to be one.

One heartbeat.

One breath.

One.

I COULDN’T GET
over how he could be so big and strong and yet he was so gentle with me. Every time he touched me, it was so tender, almost reverent.

He shook me to my core.

Cam smoothed his hands up my sides, his thumbs hooking beneath the hem of my nightgown and drawing it up over my head. The satiny fabric combined with him bracing his weight on his elbows allowed it to move easily. He stopped kissing me long enough to slip it over my head and toss it to the floor, where it joined his shorts.

He trapped my wrists while I still had them overhead and guided my hands to the headboard. “Hold on. Keep your hands there, because it’s my turn.”

I shivered from the promise in his eyes, but I took the rail directly above my head with both hands and gave him a nod.

Gradually, he eased off me, and I ached for him to come back. My skin was overheated, slick with sweat, and without him covering me, the cool night air left me shivering. I followed him with my eyes as he shifted toward the foot of the bed and lifted one of my feet to his mouth.

He kept his gaze locked with mine as he kissed the underside of my arch and then flicked his tongue in the same place. “I love your feet,” he said, his voice gravelly and a little rough, kind of like his tongue. “They’re so fucking soft.”

And they were so fucking sensitive. Every minuscule touch had me kicking slightly in response—not to get away, just because I couldn’t stop my reaction.

He sucked my big toe into his mouth, which initiated a flood of liquid heat in my core. “Do you get pedicures, or do you paint them yourself?”

“Pedi…pedicures,” I said, panting. How was he doing this to me?

“I like that. And your shoes.” He moved his attention upward, an inch at a time, his hands and mouth traversing every bare inch of my legs.

“My house shoes?” My brain wasn’t keeping up. I was too distracted by the way his fingers were tickling the backs of my knees.

“All your shoes,” he growled. “The bright-red heels. The gold ones that show off your toes. The thigh-high boots with the buckles all over them. The blue sandals with the strappy backs.” He bent my leg back and replaced his fingers with his tongue, twirling it over the hypersensitive flesh.

I didn’t know whether to be confused or impressed by the fact that he knew so much about my shoes. At the moment, I was having enough difficulty just keeping myself from coming unglued.

By the time he reached my upper thighs, his touches had grown more insistent, his kisses more intense, and my need had reached a fever pitch the likes of which I’d never experienced before.

“Cam,” I complained, still dutifully keeping my hands where he’d told me to keep them, even though all I wanted to do was grab him and tug him until he gave in and got on top of me.

Finally, he tugged my thong down my legs and slipped a finger through my slickness. I nearly came when that same finger brushed my clit, light as a feather. My hips bucked up, and I let out this deep-seated moan, and I knew I would orgasm the second he put his mouth on me.

He didn’t, though. He slid up my body, angling himself alongside me, and stretched his arm out to the nightstand, bringing back a condom. At least one of us was still thinking, because I sure as hell wasn’t able to.

He ripped the wrapper open and put the condom over his cock, and then he came over me again, settling himself between my open thighs. “Hold on tight,” Cam said.

I didn’t know if he meant to keep holding the bed rails, or to hold on to him or what. It didn’t matter. The head of his cock was at my entrance, hot and hard and teasing me. He kissed me again, one hand between us to guide himself inside.

That moment when he pushed into me, just the head…that was when I broke. My legs clenched his hips. My sex shattered and splintered and fractured into a million pieces that dissolved. Disintegrated. Melted away.

I wasn’t aware of releasing my grip on the headboard. I wasn’t aware of wrapping my arms around Cam’s waist and grabbing his ass with both hands and pulling him to me. I wasn’t aware of anything but him being inside me, deep and steady, and the frantic pulse at the base of his throat, right where my lips had landed.

For minutes or hours, or maybe even for glorious days, he drove into me, varying his pace and his angle and the way he caressed my body. Sometimes, he whispered things in my ear, like, “You’re so beautiful when you come.” Other times, his voice was harsher when he told me things like, “If you keep scraping my back with your nails like that, I’m never going to be able to stop fucking you.”

I couldn’t say anything. The words just wouldn’t come.

Then his thrusts came faster, harder, until he stilled with a loud groan into the pillow beside my head. Almost instantly, he rolled over, drawing me on top of him. I was too exhausted to do anything but rest my head on his chest. While we both fought to recover, he kept sliding his hands up and down my back, and he kissed the top of my head and my temples.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked after a few minutes. “I wasn’t too rough?”

He’d been anything but rough. Every touch had been gentle, almost spiritual. I was the one who had been rough with him. I’d never lost control like that with a man. I’d never been so wild before, so animalistic in my need.

“You didn’t hurt me.”

With one hand, he tipped my chin up so I was looking at him. “The baby?”

Something else inside me shattered, only this time, it was a piece of my heart. “I’m sure the baby’s fine.”

“But do you know?” His serious eyes were back, the passion that had darkened and softened them melting away. “I didn’t think…”

“Pregnant women have sex all the time,” I said, since I didn’t
know
. “I’m sure everything is fine.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” he said, releasing my chin. I tucked my head into that space between his neck and his shoulder where it seemed to fit so perfectly, and he started stroking my back again. “But I’d still feel better if you found out for sure. When are you going to the doctor?”

With everything going on with Daddy, I hadn’t done anything about scheduling an appointment for myself yet. “Soon,” I replied.

“Okay.” His hands stilled on my back, and he fell quiet for a minute. “Go really soon. I’d ask to go with you, but I don’t want you to wait for me. So ask lots of questions. Actually, I’ll give you a list.”

“A list?” My voice almost failed me. He wanted to come with me? He had questions for my doctor?

“I have a lot of questions, Sara. I need answers.”

Something in his tone made it clear that some of those questions were intended for me, not for my doctor.

Yes, it was true that he’d told me in no uncertain terms that he intended to pursue me…but this went beyond anything I’d prepared myself for. I was pretty sure I was in over my head.

SARA’S MORNING SICKNESS
the next day was even worse than it had been the first time I’d been around for it. Since she’d already been up and puking, I’d made her some dry toast again to calm her stomach and then hard-boiled a couple of eggs for my breakfast, hoping that I wouldn’t have to bother her with the aromas.

That didn’t pan out the way I had hoped it would. She turned green the moment I started to peel the shells, and she raced off to the bathroom. I ate my meal quickly in the hopes that the smell would dissipate. She didn’t come back for about fifteen minutes, and when she did, she still looked pale and shaky. I wished there was a way for me to take this discomfort away from her, to make her feel better. It was just one more thing that was outside my ability to control.

“I’m sorry,” I said when she sat down at the bar again and picked at her toast.

“Don’t be. I didn’t know the smell would affect me like that.”

“I know. Neither of us knew. I’m still sorry, though.” I didn’t know the first thing about pregnancy, so I made a mental note to call my mom sometime soon and pick her brain. That, plus the list of questions I was going to send with Sara to ask her doctor, might be enough to prepare me. At least more than I currently was. I had never liked to have things sprung on me at the last minute. I liked to be ready for whatever was to come.

I might talk to a few of the guys, too. Some of the ones with kids.

Buster came in through his doggy door and camped out at Sara’s feet. He’d gotten over being shut out of the bedroom quick enough this morning, at least as far as she was concerned. He still hadn’t completely forgiven me. He’d been giving me the evil eye all morning, as though I’d broken his heart. Now I was about to leave for a few days. He might not let me off the hook for a while.

Sara pushed her saucer away with a grimace. “You probably need to head out for practice soon, don’t you?” She wouldn’t look at me when she said it. Was she having second thoughts about sleeping with me? I studied her, but her face was expressionless, leaving me no answers to my questions.

Maybe I’d rushed her, pushed her for too much, too soon. Hell, maybe I’d rushed myself, even.

I hadn’t thought anything through. I’d just acted.

That was becoming a habit, and one that I needed to break.

I glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was already after eight. “Yeah, I’ll have to head out soon.” I finished loading all of my breakfast dishes into the dishwasher and closed the door.