Authors: Sidda Lee Tate
He sucked in a huge breath at her request and slipped a third finger in, pumping his hand, his thumb nicking at the puckered hole above with each thrust.
Her body shuddered and she moaned. “Fu…” She heaved in air. “Fuck me now,” she begged with her sexy-as-hell voice.
At her demand, his fingers left her, and without hesitation, he buried his cock in her center. Over and over, he plunged into her. The force of her ass slapping his hips sent waves of pleasure through him. Her legs spread further, inviting him deeper. He rammed harder, and her hips rocked as she took him in. She cried out, her body writhing, and he shuddered as he came.
* * * *
Sharon collapsed, her face and hands plastered against the wall. She gathered her strength and turned so her back was against the sheetrock. The sound of Kyle pulling on his pants made her realize her skirt was still pushed up, so she tugged it down and straightened it as best she could in the dark. Lights flicked on, and she squinted against the brightness.
“So, um, this is my house,” Kyle said. His face was flushed, breathing heavy, hair mussed, no shirt. Sharon gasped, he was gorgeous. Six pack…no, eight. Definitely eight. She knew he felt good under her fingers, but damn, she could look at him all day, every day, and not tire of the view.
The thought ran through her mind that she should say something…anything, like
nice house
or
great furniture
or
I love what you’ve done with the place
or
hey, thanks for the best fuck ever!
But she couldn’t make her mouth form words.
He moved to her, inches away, his intense blue eyes soaking her in. The heat of his body making her skin want to melt into his, he smoothed her hair. Nothing, not really, just a small gesture is all it was. A small gesture no man she’d ever known had taken the time to do. He kissed her lips, barely grazing them, and she grimaced at the unknown emotion building in her stomach, rising to her chest. Blood rushed from her face, and her eyes widened.
Heart attack, am I having a heart attack?
“Are you okay? You’re pale. Come to the kitchen and get some water.” Kyle took a few steps away and turned back, eyes concerned. “No. Don’t move. I’ll be right back. Or sit. You should sit. Do you want me to help?”
Sharon shook her head, realizing she didn’t need help. Or water. She wasn’t in pain. She was freaking out over the unbelievable emotion making her feel…good. This guy, this man in front of her, was concerned, legitimately concerned. Shit, and thanks to Vic, he thought her name was Missy. She found herself wanting to laugh.
“I’m fine.” She smiled because she’d found her voice, and because he’d hit all the right spots moments before, and she smiled because she was with him.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” He reached out a hand and she took it.
“I promise.”
Kyle gave her a look of doubt. Shirtless and oozing sex, he grabbed the back of his neck with his free hand, and holding it there he said, “I think we should at least get you some water. You’re still looking a little pale.”
Sharon followed him to the kitchen, glancing at the house on the way. All of the walls were coated in a creamy white paint, no photos or art. The living room had a huge stone fireplace with deep-burgundy, leather furniture. The floor was covered in dark brown, almost black, wood flooring. Every appliance in the kitchen was stainless steel. She propped her elbow on the black marble countertop of the center island and scanned the room. It was like the other rooms she’d seen—empty.
“How long have you lived here?” she asked.
“A while.” He opened the refrigerator and plucked a water bottle from the shelf.
“Huh.” She’d been certain he had just moved in and hadn’t had the chance to make it homey.
“I just got finished with a remodel.” He twisted the lid off and placed the bottle in front of her. “More like a renovation. Got rid of everything and replaced it.” He skimmed the area and stopped at her, his eyes narrowed as if he were questioning himself. “Come to think of it, maybe I’m not finished.”
“Well, I think it’s nice. It looks…new.” Sharon sipped on the water and sat the bottle down. “Will you show me the rest?”
That sweet, crooked grin spread across his lips and he stepped to her, making that weird fluttery chest thing act up under her skin. “There’s only one room I need you to see and I’m more than happy to get you in it…I mean…show it to you.” His lips sparked a smile and he kissed her neck, then her cheek, and drew his head back, his bright blue eyes staring into hers. Kyle took her hand. “Come on.”
Without hesitation, she followed and just as she suspected, it was the bedroom.
“Will you stay?” He linked his fingers in hers, pulling her hands behind her back, chest to chest. His lips left light kisses on her face.
God, did she want to stay. Sleeping next to him, waking up to his skin against hers…every day, she wanted it to happen every day. No! These crazy thoughts weren’t hers. She was Sharon Blake. She liked to fuck. No emotion. No regret. But there it was, everything she never wanted was staring her in the face, and she was willing to risk the inevitable…getting hurt…just to be with him. It wasn’t worth it. “I can’t.”
His lips trailed down her neck, and her inner thighs began to quiver. “Mmm. You may as well. It’s almost five o’clock.” His mouth parted and sealed to hers, his tongue teasing. Kyle pulled his head back and creased his brow. “Is it because of Vic?”
Huh? “No. We…he… No!”
A triumphant smile beamed from his lips. “So you’re staying.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“You want to.”
Sharon nibbled on the inside of her lip. He didn’t know how right he was. His fingers gave hers a quick squeeze, and he dropped his hands, stepping back. She winced at the unsettling feeling in her stomach caused by his separation, and magnetically followed him across the room and through a set of double doors.
She pulled her gaze from him and examined the bathroom. The shower was huge, a walk-in with showerheads randomly scattered across the walls and a built-in stone bench along the back wall. Sharon had never seen anything like it and it must have showed because Kyle gave a low chuckle and said, “Use it if you want. You can choose which showerheads you want to spray. But it’s late…or early. You’re probably tired, so—”
“I’m not tired,” she interrupted, slipping the lace camisole over her head and dropping it on the floor. “Will you turn on the water?”
Kyle paused for a second, taking her in. “Which ones do you want on?”
She kicked off her flats and slipped the skirt over her legs. “All of them. And hot, I like it hot.”
He went to a miniature control panel on the wall, his back to her, and pressed a few buttons. The sound of spraying water filled the room, and instant steam manifested from the heat. She had to touch him and took three quick steps to close the gap between them. Before he could turn around, Sharon’s naked chest was against his back, and she nibbled at his neck and shoulders. He turned to face her, cupping her breasts, his thumbs flicking at her taut nipples. His breaths grew harsh as her fingers explored his bare chest and stomach then trailed the thin hairline that extended below the waist of his jeans.
His hands went to her head, twisting his fingers in her hair, pressing his open mouth to hers, each step pushing her backward. As they entered the shower, hot steamy water pelted at her skin, spraying every inch of her. Her hands ran down his slick, water coated back. She slipped her fingers under his jeans, feeling the tight muscles of his ass cheeks contract. The backs of her knees hit the stone bench.
“Mmm…have a seat,” he growled into her mouth. His hands pushed her hips, giving her no other choice, but she liked it.
Kyle dropped to his knees, his fingers clinching her thighs, spreading them. His eyes, dark and feral, held hers, making her breath catch, and she grabbed the edge of the seat, anticipating, craving his next move. Holding her gaze, he licked her slit, one firm slow stroke. Her skin rippled at his touch. She whimpered, begging for more. And he gave it to her.
His tongue did small swirls on her clit, alternating with quick flicks. The sucking…damn, she could barely breathe when he sucked on her swollen mound. Throbbing, aching, pounding, she struggled for air. His tongue, held tight and pointed, dove into her entrance, both of his hands spreading her open as his tongue thrust. She lifted her hips, rocking against his face, her thighs burning, heart racing.
Delicious pleasure surged up her body, escaping her mouth with a high-pitched cry of ecstasy. He licked at her, drinking her in, carrying her through, then he pulled back for a moment, examining her face. The crooked grin appeared and he dipped his head, teething at the heated folds, then he kissed them. Sharon’s body, limp against the wall behind her, twitched with an aftershock. His mouth slid up her wet skin, pelted by hot droplets, stopping at her breasts, seizing them in his mouth individually, taking care that each one received equal attention.
“Did you like that?” His voice grated against strained breaths.
“Mmm-hmm.” Sharon put her hand on his cheek. Her thumb lazily traced the outline of his lips.
His gaze went over her face, and he smiled. “I guess that means you’ll stay.”
Chapter 4
Sharon, underneath layers of cotton and down, rolled over, stretching her arm across the soft sheets. Opening her eyes and realizing she was alone in the lush California king, she let out a long sigh of disappointment. Twice during her sleep she’d awakened and found her head buried in his chest, cuddled against him. She’d never done that—slept in the embrace of a man. The first time, she moved away, scooting to the opposite side. The second time, as if he sensed she would move, his arms already holding her close, tightened around her, forcing that now not-so-foreign feeling to consume her chest and she drifted back to a soundless sleep.
She sat up and looked at the clock on the nightstand—12:14. Beside the clock was a stack of folded clothes—a pair of boxers and a worn, navy blue t-shirt that read in bold, white letters
Fairview University
. Somehow, she knew they were meant for her. She slipped them on, rolling the waistband down on the shorts and tying the t-shirt in a knot on the side. Walking in the bathroom to freshen up she noticed Kyle’s jeans, the ones he’d worn in the shower when he’d brought her to a mind-blowing orgasm, hanging from one of the showerheads. She shivered remembering how he’d looked in them dripping wet. The thought of him put her in a rush and she quickly combed through her hair with her fingers, splashed her face with water, and rinsed with mouthwash.
With a quick hop-skip-run-speed walk she was at the bedroom door. As soon as Sharon grasped the knob, doubt washed over her. What if he wanted her to leave? What if he wanted nothing to do with her now that he’d
had
her? Without another thought she ran back to the bathroom and picked up her own clothes from the night before and changed, slipping her flats on, prepared to go. Back at the bedroom door, she took a deep breath and walked through.
The smell of coffee filled the air. The kitchen light was on though there was no need. Bright sunlight poured through the huge windows. She blinked hard. The entire back wall of the house was a sheet of glass. Something she hadn’t noticed when they’d first arrived. She walked past the kitchen to the dining area where an open glass door took her to the patio overlooking a swimming pool lined with natural stone. The plants surrounding the area placed her directly in a tropical paradise.
She knew she was gaping at the view in front of her, but she’d never seen anything like it. Not in person, in the photos of magazines or the world’s best personal oasis on the Travel Channel, maybe, but in person…never.
“Finally.” She heard from a distance and turned toward the voice to find Kyle sitting on a chair-boulder thing giving her that adorable sideways grin, looking sexy as ever in khaki cargo shorts, a light green t-shirt, and bare feet. “It seems like I’ve been waiting forever for you to wake up.” He looked her over. “You didn’t find the clothes I left for you?”
His bright blue eyes, fixated on her, scattered her thoughts. She struggled for words, carefully piecing them together as they translated from her mind and over her lips. “No. I mean, I did.” The magnetic-like pull inside kicked in and involuntarily her legs took her to him, stopping her inches away.
Kyle reached out a hand, resting it in the sensitive spot behind her knee, his thumb caressing her skin. “Are you leaving?”
Good question. She should, she should run and never look back, she knew that much. Being with him opened her to unfamiliar emotions, frightening ones that left her vulnerable. But she also knew she didn’t want to, not at all. She wanted his skin against hers. She hungered for the feel of his mouth. She craved how his length and thickness filled her center, just the thought made the space between her legs throb.
As though he’d sensed the ache, their eyes locked, and his hand slid up the back of her thigh and around to the inside, his fingers centimeters away from her pulsing slit. “Because if you’re even thinking about it, I feel I need to persuade you otherwise.”
She thought back to the shower and shivered knowing she would thoroughly enjoy his method of persuasion. Kyle gave her leg a light tug. With the pounding in her chest quickening, she followed through, stepping closer, her knees against the outside of his leg, spread just enough to allow his fingers access, if he chose. The awareness of his digits so close to her folds making her dizzy, she grabbed a handful of his short, light brown hair and smiled.
“It’s possible…” Sharon took a deep, shaky breath, already knowing she wouldn’t leave, at least not until she’d had him one last time. “…to sway me.”
His eyes narrowed, his face went serious, and his hand slipped down her leg, squeezing lightly just above the back of her knee. “First, though, I need you to know…Vic told me.”
She looked at him, confused, then realized what he was about to say. She sucked in a breath and held it as he spoke.