Dirty Distractions (7 page)

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Authors: Cari Quinn

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Dirty Distractions
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His expression must’ve revealed his confusion, because she stepped closer to touch his chest. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Let’s,” he agreed, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm. She laughed.

Her other distinguished boyfriend-types probably would’ve said something like, “Let me find my smoking jacket.” He wasn’t distinguished, and he wasn’t her boyfriend—yet—though he was about to start his campaign for that title. Why pretend he only wanted a few furtive clutches with her when he already longed for so much more?

At the threshold of her bedroom, she gave him what he considered her doctor face. “Just to sleep, okay? Kim will probably be up all night, and I don’t want to press our luck.”

He pushed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and tried to control his temper. “Why are we doing this again?”

Playfully she walked her fingers up his abs. “Have you forgotten already?”

“Not that.” He snatched her hand and pressed his lips to the center of her palm. “I mean the whole lying thing. Do you really think my sister’s that much of an ogre that she’d begrudge us a little happiness? Or do you think it’s hotter to run around in secret?”

Hurt flashed in her big brown eyes, and he wished he could snatch the words back. “Look, Sara—”

“I’m not sure what sort of impression I’ve given you. Obviously not a very good one if you think I’d create artificial drama to make things ‘hot’. I told you, I like it here.” She opened her mouth as if she intended to say more, then shook her head and walked into her bedroom. And started to strip.

Yeah,
that
would definitely help his concentration.

To assist his synapses in functioning, he focused on the small cluster of watercolor paintings on the wall opposite her bed. The artwork featured different birds at the sanctuary, and their colorful plumage offered a bright spot in the room. Almost as bright as Telly’s equally gorgeous feathers, currently fluttering as he charged around his cage.

Something had set him off, probably their edgy voices. Sara had told him her bird hated arguments. So did he, unless he saw a good reason to fight. As far as he was concerned, they didn’t have one.

Brad waited until Sara rounded the bed to walk toward her closet before he wandered over to Telly’s cage. He’d stayed in the living room for the last few days while Sara was sick, but now that she was feeling better, she’d insisted on bringing him back. Brad slipped his finger between the bars, and as usual, Telly barely spared him a glance. He ignored everyone but Sara.

Since his mistress had just slipped back into her nightgown from earlier—that happened to be silky, blue and strapless—Brad definitely understood Telly’s fascination.

After spending a long moment gulping down the sight of Sara’s attire, Brad resolutely faced Telly again. “I know you like it here,” he said in his most conciliatory voice. “We like having you too. Us being together has nothing to do with that.”

“That’s because it’s new. You forget I’m the queen of soured relationships.”

He looked back at her as she slipped into bed and crossed her arms over her chest. Her
ample
chest, attractively revealed by her low-cut nightie. “I’ve had a few too. Including a marriage, in case you’ve forgotten.” He couldn’t help his irritation any more than he could help staring at her breasts. Her disgusted exhale drew his gaze to her face, though that noise could’ve been from his focus on her cleavage as much as the reminder about his ex-wife. Not his fault she was so damn hot. “I’m just saying, I’m not new to the game, babe. I know things go bad. I also know if you start out assuming they’ll go south, you’ll usually get your wish.”

“I don’t want this to be complicated.”

He tapped the cage again and got the same reaction from the bird—nada. With a sigh, he came around to the opposite side of Sara’s bed and sat on the tangled comforter. Memories of how they’d gotten it so messy made him glance back at her, only this time she was smiling. Maybe she was thinking about the same thing. “Life’s complicated in general. You can take the easy route and be bored out of your fucking mind. I’ve done that for stretches.”

“Somehow I doubt it.”

“Don’t. Sometimes we all need to hide out for a while.” He rubbed her foot through the covers. “I know moving here was a big change for you. I also know that you value your friendship with my sister, and it means a lot that you’d rather not do anything that might make her unhappy.”

“She’s not the only one I value.” She patted the pillow beside her. “Maybe I haven’t made that clear enough.”

“If that’s a thinly veiled way of suggesting you could show your affection through sexual favors, I heartily agree.”

She laughed and curled up on her side, extending her arm to him. “No more sexual favors tonight. I’m still recovering, remember?”


I’m
still recovering too,” he said, stroking the bed meaningfully.

He rose to shut the door. Just in case, he flipped the lock, though if Kim made it upstairs and discovered them together in Sara’s bedroom, it’d be pretty obvious they weren’t sequestered to work on the
Times
crossword. Still, Sara gave him a grateful look when he turned back to undress. He hauled his T-shirt over his head and shed his boots and jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Her snort at his untidiness made him shift to give her a full frontal glimpse of his renewed erection, knowing that would quell her amusement.

Judging from the size of her pupils, he was right. “Low blow,” she murmured.

He grinned and crawled over the bed, caging her beneath him like a cotton burrito. She loved to bundle up right away, and now she couldn’t escape from her sheeted prison. “No, a low blow would be if I slid up this bed and fed my cock into your mouth again. And it’d be low because it would probably take me about five seconds to come.”

One of her brows winged up, and he swore his balls shouted for mercy. “You’d feed me your cock and I have no say in the matter, hmm?”

Well, now, this was interesting. “Does that intrigue you?”

“Maybe.” She flashed him an artificially innocent smile. There was nothing inexperienced about this woman, and he loved that about her. She brought her A-game to the table and challenged him at every turn, sexually and otherwise. “When I’m feeling better. I think tonight made me relapse.”

Groaning, he rolled off her and onto his side, facing away from her. After that near miss, he needed a minute. Or a frigging boatload of them. “You’re evil.”

She reached over and clicked off the light. Then she snuggled her warm, curvy body up against his back and gripped his swollen length. She pressed her thumb against the head as if he had an
On
button. Damn if it didn’t work too. “Still think that?”

“I will if you don’t move your hand,” he gritted out.

Chuckling softly, she swept her lips along his shoulder. Her hand, however, stayed painfully immobile. He could feel the wetness from his slit slipping out to coat her thumb. “Mmm, have I ever told you how much I love your body?”

“You could show me. With your fingers.”

Her laughter puffed across his neck and he shuddered. It took so little from her to make him crazy. “I suppose I have enough energy for a quickie. If you do all the work.” She bit one of the corded muscles in his shoulder, and he nearly wheezed for mercy. “Would that make you feel better?”

He didn’t answer her husky question. He scarcely even breathed. But his poor, ignored dick flexed in her hold, silently begging.

Apparently she decided to take pity on him, because she circled the crown of his erection, smearing the fluid there like the topping to her own personal banana split. He pressed his face against his forearm while she started to jerk him in long, even strokes, as easy as freaking Sunday morning. Except he was as hard as the frame of her bed, and his groin ached like he’d never come at all. He didn’t want easy. He wanted her to work his cock until his freaking head popped off.

“Aww, baby, you’re so tense.” Her mocking tone shouldn’t have made him thicken more, but it did. From her throaty purr of approval, she knew it. “It must be so tough for you, working all those long days bent over engines, playing with wires and valves and connections.”

He glanced back at her. Her lids dipped low over her eyes, and her pale pink lips curved. She looked playful. Even happy.

“I think you should come down to the shop and hold my pliers.” Before she could make a sound, he rolled over and pinned her beneath him, burying his face in the curve between throat and shoulder where her warmed vanilla scent was strongest. “You’ve never seen me work my magic under the hood.”

“Haven’t seen it,” she gasped as he rocked his cock against her covered mound, “but I’ve sure experienced it.”

“Allow me to demonstrate another facet of my technique.” He leaned over her and tugged the bedside drawer open, revealing her stash of condoms. “Thank God you had more than one. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me. You’d never be the type to take chances.”

“Really? Look where we are. What we’re doing. And at my age, it’s not as much of a chance, at least when it comes to getting pregnant.”

“You’re forty-two, not sixty-two. I’m damn tired of hearing about it, actually.” He popped one of the condoms he found between her lips and grinned as she sputtered. “Hold that one for me.”

Her forehead wrinkled, and he knew she’d let a verbal assault fly the moment he unstuffed her mouth. So he didn’t. He sat back on his haunches, sheathing his cock in latex in one smooth motion. She mumbled again, but she didn’t protest when he yanked down the covers to reveal the nightie twisted so naughtily around her waist. Below it she was bare and wet and ready for him.

And he was damn well ready for her.

“I’ll be quiet,” he promised, giving her a devilish grin. “And I’ll keep you quiet too. Now open up for me and stop busting my damn balls, woman.”

Her lips quivered around the condom between her teeth as if she were a fighting a smile. She parted her legs and tilted upward slightly, all the invitation he needed.

With one thrust he’d embedded himself inside her to the hilt. His groan was part relief and part torment, because holy Christ, her pussy was tight. A swollen, silky glove created specially for his dick. A wet haven for wayward penises everywhere—except not, since he had no intention of sharing
this
slice of heaven with anyone.

She didn’t make a single noise at his entry into her body. Not a moan, a whimper, a sigh. She stared at him in wordless awe, somehow managing to still look gorgeous and ethereal despite the prophylactic firmly wedged in her mouth.

“Yeah, baby. I get it.” And he did. She was right there with him, as breathlessly amazed as he was at how perfect this felt.

Or else she would be, once he coaxed his hips into moving. They’d locked into hers like they had a mind of their own.

Brad braced his hands next to her head and lifted his torso off her, rising slowly while he dragged out his cock. Now she protested, a slight, hitching breath that whooshed out of her at the press of his length back inside. She canted upward to meet him, their gazes connected, their bodies sliding into a groove that should’ve been awkward and new, yet wasn’t. Slipping into her was as natural as the kisses he smoothed along her brow.

She grabbed the condom out of her mouth, but he shook his head and slipped it back between her lips. “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” At her eyeroll, he laughed. “Let me rephrase. Don’t you want to stay nice and quiet? At least that gives you something to…bite.”

Again she said more with her eyes than some women managed with their mouths. But she didn’t remove the packet, so small favors.

She reached up to wind her arms around his back, holding him close while he gave into the urges he couldn’t control. He pushed into her faster. Deeper. Hiking her legs up around him to make it easier for her to arch into his strokes, he drove into her over and over again, determined to give her more pleasure than she could stand.

But the long night of waiting, combined with the months before that, had taken its toll and in mere minutes, a telltale tingle shot up his spine and spiraled through every one of his muscles that wasn’t already tensed and quaking. He swiveled his hips, hitting a new spot inside her that made her squeeze her eyes shut and slicken his length even more. God, yes. Finally.

He couldn’t come first. Wouldn’t. Not when she already saw him as a boy with no self-control.

Like hell.

Boring down into her, he grasped her curvy hips, shifting until his pubic bone ground against that needy nub of flesh that incited her to shiver. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks. Was this a whole new way for her to block him out? For her to pretend they weren’t lovers?

“Look at me,” he rasped. “I want you to know who’s making you come.”

She lifted her fingers to his face, tracing them along his jaw, his nose, his lips. Her sex tightened around him, undulating with her subtle squeezes around his dick. Little butterfly kisses that turned his raging erection into a damn pole of steel. Still her eyes didn’t open. Her belly rippled against his abdomen the harder he surged into her, and her nipples threatened to poke through her nightgown, but she didn’t give him the pleasure of looking into her gorgeous eyes.

Not yet anyway.

With another flex of his hips and a change of the angle, he tugged her up and burrowed ever deeper into her giving sheath. She gasped around the condom she now bit into, likely ruining it with the imprint of her teeth. He alternated long, even thrusts with shorter, churning ones and stared hard at her straining features, knowing she was reaching for the same pinnacle he was. Needing to see her eyes as they found it together.

“Sara,” he whispered. She made a sound deep in her throat and grasped him so forcefully with her internal muscles that his cock throbbed. “Baby, look at me.”

Her lids lifted to show him eyes cloudy with desire. For him. Even in the low light, he glimpsed the storm of her emotions. Not merely sex. Hell no. The more he saw there, the harder he pounded into her. It wasn’t so much looking for satisfaction anymore as chasing down something he craved with every fiber of his being.

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