I Want Candy (27 page)

Her hands roamed all over his belly and hips and grabbed on to his ass, all while she pressed her lips to a variety of places—around his navel, on his quadriceps—she even nipped at the inside of his thigh with her teeth. But none of those small thrills could prepare him for the bliss he experienced when her hot, wet mouth slid down upon the head of his dick.

She was a natural. She alternately swirled her tongue, gently sucked, and took him deep, all while her silky curls brushed down over his thighs. To better witness this performance, Turner gathered up her hair in one hand and held it back away from her face. She looked up at him, her eyes smiling and her mouth full of his dick.

Too much. Too much.

He had no choice but to press his hands against her shoulders and encourage her to move away. Just like in his dreams, he knew he couldn’t last if she continued to do that. The combination of physical sensation and visual delight was overwhelming. And he wanted to be inside her when he came, especially tonight. He wanted their eyes to be locked as their bodies came together for the first time.

Turner bent at the waist and pushed Candy back upon the bed. He propped himself over her, kissing her neck and lips and breasts, enjoying it each time a faint sigh escaped her mouth, loving how she arched her back to give him her nipples, then yielded to his pressure. Candy was a playground of ripe feminine flesh, curves and hollows and velvet planes of softness. His body and mind drove him on with only one objective: devour her, consume her, enter her, meld with her.

Turner was on automatic pilot now. He felt his knees push her legs farther apart and he hovered just above her sweet opening, so swollen and slippery with desire. “Put me in,” he said. “Now. Do it.”

*   *   *

Candy slipped her hand around his hardness and pulled him close. She wanted nothing more than to feel him buried inside her, filling her up, making her whole. When she arched her hips to meet him, the very tip of Turner’s cock began to nudge into her, but it was a tight fit. He pushed. As her pussy opened for him, they gasped in unison and began to rock together.

“It’s so good,” Candy breathed, clutching at the back of his neck with her hand and pulling him closer, shock waves of pleasure rushing through her limbs, her belly, her chest, her mind. Turner felt just right on top of her—solid, hard, masculine, but all the while gentle. She gazed up at his intensely beautiful eyes and saw him experience his own rush of bliss as he pressed deeper into her.

“Candy,” Turner whispered, his gaze locked with hers. “I’ve wanted you all my life. Give yourself to me. Don’t hold anything back.”

She spread her legs wide and threw her thighs around his waist. Candy locked her heels together at the small of his back and felt her body soften and open under him.

“Yessss
…” Turner threw his head back and thrust once more. “Oh, damn, yes.”

When he cupped Candy’s buttocks in his hands and thrust into her once more, she wailed with pleasure. With each inward push of his cock he made further headway, and soon Candy felt his big testicles tap against her bottom. All she could do was breathe, feel,
be
in the extreme enjoyment of the moment, the abundance of sensation exploding from inside her pussy.

Then Turner kissed her. It was wild and hard and demanding and somewhere in the back of her brain she realized this was how it felt to be taken by a man. Claimed. She’d never felt so ravished in her life, so forced open, so pinned down, so thoroughly fucked.

She hadn’t known it would be like this with Turner! She hadn’t known it would be like this with
anyone
!

Turner dragged his lips from her mouth down the side of her throat, to her collarbone, the tops of her breasts, her nipples again, all while he moved into her, insistent, demanding.

Candy let her hands roam all over his beautiful body as he moved, feeling the muscles ripple and the bone and sinew work. He was languid. He was sensual and graceful. Turner made love the way he walked, and the thought of that pushed her higher.

“You’re so tight. So perfect.” As Turner rose above her and thrust into her again, Candy rested her palms on his rock-hard abdomen, slick with sweat. She slid her fingers all over the surface of his skin, fascinated by the ripple of his muscles, the sleek way he was made. And though her eyes had been shut as she concentrated on the feel of him, she decided she had to see. She had to know how he looked in this moment and commit it to memory.

Candy heard herself gasp. In the light of the bedside lamp, Turner’s flesh was shining, dark and rich as milk chocolate, hard as polished wood. The sight of her pale hands on his dark flesh sent a flash of lust through her so extreme she felt a small orgasm ripple through her.

“You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she heard herself whisper, her voice raspy with emotion. “Turner, you are extraordinary.”

He looked down at her then, his eyes hooded, his smile soft, all his concentration on how deep he could get inside her. Suddenly, she felt herself wrapped in his arms, picked up, and flipped over, and the transition was so unexpected that her foot clipped the bedside lamp and sent it crashing to the floor.

“Oh, no!” She began to reach for it.

“Leave it,” Turner said, slapping his hands on her ass and pushing her down on his cock. “Ride me, Candy. I want to watch you move on me while I’m all the way up in you, can you do that, baby?”

Of course she could. So she did. And as Candy began to grind down on him, the jolt of lust was so concentrated and intense that it wasn’t long before she cried out, half drunk with joy, and began to buck and shiver as she came, wetness exploding all over his abdomen and thighs.

“Fuck, yes!” Turner yelled, holding her down tight as she continued to tremble and jerk, the searing pleasure rolling through her again and again. She gulped down air and collapsed on top of him.

But Turner didn’t let her rest. Immediately Candy was grabbed and flipped over on her back, and somewhere in the recesses of her mind she thought she heard another crash. Was that the headboard? Had something fallen off a wall somewhere? Then there was nothing but more pleasure, more Turner, deeper, his mouth on hers, his hands all over her, his cock inside her … so good, so good … and then she was on her hands and knees … and she suddenly felt herself being rhythmically pushed off the edge of the bed. She caught herself, hands outstretched against a stack of boxes, but the boxes started to tumble just as she was pulled back onto the bed.

Candy opened her eyes. Turner’s gaze locked with hers. He was completely present, completely focused, and he smiled down on her, chuckling. “You all right, baby?”

Candy nodded. “Please don’t stop,” she said.

*   *   *

Her body was soft and silky. Her hair smelled like flowers. Her eyes were innocent and sexy. And Turner knew he might as well surrender right then and there because Candy Carmichael was going to own him with that pussy of hers. She was going to break him down into a slobbering fool with that pussy, take him to heaven and back with that pussy.

Oh, how he loved the sensation of being fully buried inside of her, as she lay beneath him now, eyes half open, little mewls of pleasure releasing with each plunge, until she went silent and rigid for what had to be the fifth time since they started making love.

“Do it, Candy,” he said. “One more time. This time I’ll go with you. Don’t keep anything back. I want you so much. I’ve wanted you for so long—”

Turner felt her grip his cock with one long, hard shudder, followed by a series of rolling, clutching waves, and that’s when she let go with a cry that came from deep inside her chest. Once more, she squirted all over his stomach.

He came with her, a roaring, bucking, whole-body spasm of joy that threw him outside of his own physical form for an instant. Where he went, he had no words for. And after, they lay together, belly to belly, kissing softly and letting their hands roam all over each other’s bodies, while Turner let the realization settle over him—they had officially started on this journey together. He hoped and prayed there would be all the time in the world to build on this beginning.

After a long while, Turner pulled himself from Candy and rolled to his side. He repositioned them so they lay lengthwise in the bed and placed the covers over them both.

Candy snuggled into his chest. He reached around her back and held her tight, feeling her breath soft against his skin. Everything about her—her scent, the way her body molded to his, the way she tasted—it was all absolute pleasure for him. She was everything he’d longed for, and more.

“Turner?” Her voice was faint and muffled against his chest.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I didn’t run away.”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Are you sure about that?”

She nodded. “Yes, but I think you tried to kick me out of bed at one point.”

Turner laughed softly. “Uh, no. I just got a little carried away. Sorry about that.”

“No apology necessary.” He could feel her cheek press against his chest when she smiled. “Turner?”

“Hmm?”

“That was pretty wild. Did something fall off the wall?”

“Uh, yeah. I think. I’ll have to check.”

“Maybe we should make love in an empty room from now on,” Candy said, giggling.

“Yeah. Nothing but a wrestling mat and padded walls.” Turner pulled back a bit to look down into her face. He pushed hair away from her eyes. “Was it too crazy for you?”

She smiled up at him. “No. Can I can have some more?”

“Sure, baby,” he said, reaching down over the side of the bed to unplug the twisted lamp. “I’ll be good to go as soon as I get the feeling back in my hands and feet.”

They laughed together, softly at first then loud and rowdy, but their laughter soon faded into sighs, and the last thought Turner had before he fell asleep was that there was no point in lying to himself another minute.

He was going to fall in love with Candy Carmichael—if he hadn’t already.

Chapter 18

Apparently, Turner regained the feeling in his limbs about four-thirty that morning, because that’s when Candy woke up to find his face between her legs. She returned the favor, learning more about what pleased him, what brought him to the edge, and what would push him over.

They made love in the shower—twice—and Turner made coffee while Candy threw together some scrambled eggs, toast, and grits. They sat at the dining room table and ate as if they were starving, and when it was time for Turner to leave he grabbed her and kissed the hell out of her.

“What’s on your agenda today?” he asked.

“Oh, you know, same as every other day—feed the hungry, rescue the oppressed, make a couple chocolate cakes.”

Turner chuckled into her hair, and Candy felt the vibration travel all the way down to her toes. It felt so damn good to be in his arms that she wanted to cry.

“You know, you poke fun at your talent, but you shouldn’t,” Turner said. “You’ve got a real gift, Candy Pants.”

She pulled away and stared at him. “What did you just call me?” It was fun to watch Turner’s eyes widen in alarm.

“Did I just say that aloud?”

Candy blew out air. “Yeah.”

“Okay, well, that’s what J.J. and I always called you back in the day. Hope you’re not offended. It was meant as a compliment. Still is.”

Candy tried not to smile but she was wholly unsuccessful. She busted out laughing.

“You knew?” Turner looked shocked.

“Of course I did,” she said. “You and J.J. might have thought you were superbad back in seventh grade but I’m here to tell you—you weren’t. You were goofy and loud. I’ve always known that’s what you called me.”

Turner wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled down at her. “And you still liked me, even after all that?”

Candy chuckled. “Yeah. Go figure.”

“Ever had a nickname for me?”

“Not yet.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “But it shouldn’t be hard to come up with one.”

Turner laughed, and when he did his dimples deepened and his eyes sparkled and Candy suddenly felt light-headed and giddy as a girl. His joy was a beautiful thing to see. His happiness was contagious.

If she ever caused him pain she would hate herself.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said, kissing her forehead one last time before opening the front door. “I’ll try to come in for lunch.”

*   *   *

“Hey!”

Turner slid onto a stool at Lenny’s counter and inwardly sighed with relief at the sight of Candy. She was real. He hadn’t made her up. And she looked as happy to see him as he was to see her.

“Can you recommend anything particularly tasty today? I’m in the mood for something sweet but savory.”

Candy pursed her lips. She leaned her elbows on the counter and whispered to him. “I believe the item you’re referring to isn’t on the menu here at Lenny’s.”

“Damn, that’s good to hear.”

Candy broke out into a wide grin, her blue eyes alive. She looked happy, Turner thought, happier than he’d seen her since she came back to town. He liked to think it was partly because of him.

He had to eat fast, so ordered the soup and sandwich combo. He had a lead about Gerrall being spotted in Winston, a town about five miles away, and he thought he’d drive out to have a look-see. When he got up a few minutes later to pay his check, Turner felt a few sets of unfriendly eyes on him. With a smile, he acknowledged the glares of Ed Hamilton, Haywood Buckston, and Junior Schneider, three good ole boys long retired from the county public works department.

“Gentlemen,” he said, nodding in their direction.

Only Junior responded to the greeting. “Sheriff,” he said.

With a sigh, Turner decided he should defuse the situation. The diner was plenty crowded and the last thing he wanted to do was appear guilty about his relationship with Candy. He wasn’t and never would be. And besides, everyone in town already knew about them.

Turner strolled over to the booth where the three old men were finishing their lunches, aware that every eye in the place was on him. “How ya’ll been?” he asked.