Blush for Me

by Kristen Proby

  “Thank God.” She drags her hands down my shoulders and arms. “Birth control.”

  “That’s the sexiest thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

  She smirks and circles her hips, making my eyes roll back in my head.

  “I’m on the pill, but this is a sexcation, and I’m not taking any chances. There are condoms in my suitcase.”

  “You came prepared for this sexcation.” I lick my way down her arm, nibble the inside of her elbow. “I like a woman who plans ahead.”

  “I’m a planner,” she agrees. “And if you don’t put a condom on that monster cock of yours and fuck me blind in two point two seconds, we’re going to have a problem.”

  I smirk down at her, brush her unruly hair off her face, and kiss her long and hard, pulling back only when we’re both gasping for breath.

  “I’m not going to be gentle with you.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  Chapter Three

  ~Kat~

  I don’t know what I did to deserve Mac as a sexcation partner, but I’d gladly do it again, over and over, if it had the same results. The man is sex on a fucking stick. The body beneath those trendy clothes is off the hook. I could just touch him all damn day.

  Okay, that’s a lie. It would lead to sex in a heartbeat, but damn, I wouldn’t complain.

  He climbs off of me and crosses to my suitcase. “In here?”

  “Yeah, on the bottom.” I pull the covers down and climb inside the bed, covering myself, and earn a glare from Mac as he turns back to me, a fresh box of condoms in his magical hand.

  “Another rule.”

  “You’re very strict,” I say as he opens the box and rejoins me. A small smile tickles his lips.

  “You have no idea,” he says. “I don’t want you to ever cover yourself up. You’re beautiful.”

  “And cold,” I reply with a smirk. “I’m not shy, Mac, I was chilly.”

  “I can fix that,” he replies, pulling the covers off of me and replacing them with his long, lean, muscular body. He nestles himself between my legs and buries his face in my neck, kissing and licking and making me tingle in all the right places. “You smell amazing.”

  “You feel better,” I whisper, and get a firm grip on his ass. “And I want you inside me, Mac.”

  He rears back, sucks on my nipple, and slips halfway inside me. He stops and stares down at me, panting. “Okay?”

  “So much better than okay.” I wrap my legs around his ass and tug. “All the way.”

  “Don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m too fucking wet for that.”

  He glides the rest of the way, bracing himself over me, staring down at me with deep green eyes and tousled hair.

  “Your tattoos look so bright on these white sheets, Kat. You’re so full of color, I don’t know where to look first.”

  “Stop being romantic,” I reply, smiling playfully. “You’re supposed to just fuck me blind.”

  He cocks a brow. “No pretty words?”

  I shake my head slowly and roll my hips, making his jaw clench. Pure female satisfaction wraps around me as I kiss his arm, then bite the muscle, and suddenly I’m flipped over and Mac slaps my ass.

  Hard.

  I’m pressed flat against the bed, his legs straddling mine, and he’s fucking me hard and fast. All I can do is fist the pillow and moan in delight as he hits just the right spot, over and over. In this position, he feels even bigger, filling me up, making me crazy.

  He licks between my shoulder blades, then bites my neck. “Better?”

  I can only nod. My body is on fire, feeling more than I thought was possible.

  He fists my hair, at the nape of my neck. He doesn’t pull, but holds tight, reminding me who’s in charge.

  It’s just about the hottest thing ever.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” he rasps, never losing the momentum. “I’ve wanted to be inside you since I first saw you. I’m going to fuck you, every day that we’re here, Kat.”

  “Yes.” Oh my God, his voice, full of sex and promises, is going to send me over the edge. “Fuck.”

  “That’s right.” He shifts, planting his knees between mine so he can raise my hips up off the bed, slaps my other cheek and pushes balls-deep, and holds himself there, grinding against me, making me lose my ever-loving mind.

  Finally, both of us panting and sweaty, he pulls out and collapses next to me. Neither of us can talk, which is fine because I don’t know what I’d say anyway.

  What does one say after they’ve had the best sex of their life? Thank you seems trite.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks.

  “That I’m hungry,” I lie, and turn to face him. “And that you should order room service for us.”

  He smirks. “What do you want?”

  “One of each.”

  Time flies when you’re having fun. It’s an old cliché, but I never realized just how true it is until this week. It’s flown by, touring vineyards and sitting in on classes during the day, and going to bed with Mac every night.

  Every. Night.

  The man can fuck like nobody’s business, bless him.

  But now it’s our last day together. I’m not silly enough to think that we’ve fallen in love this week. I won’t pine for him like a lovesick teenager after we leave here.

  But I will remember him fondly, and the amazing week we spent together in wine country. I guess it is rather romantic, even though a sexcation is anything but romantic.

  “We’re here,” Mac whispers in my ear as the bus pulls up to our final vineyard for the week.

  “Awesome.”

  “Where were you just now?” he asks, and drags his hand up and down my thigh. He makes me want to purr. The things this man can do with his hands should come with a warning label.

  “I’m right here,” I reply.

  “No, you were somewhere far away,” he murmurs.

  “Just thinking about all the things I have to do when I get home,” I lie easily with a smile as we all file off the bus.

  I’m not drinking much today. I’ve been beyond tipsy every day by the time we made our way back to the hotel, and while it’s been fun, I’m feeling the effects of too much alcohol.

  I may not be over the crazy sex with Mac, but I’m quite over the wine, and that’s a sentence I never thought I’d say in my life.

  “You’re far away again,” Mac says, smiling down at me and holding a wineglass out for me to take.

  “Sorry.” I shrug. “It’s been an eventful week.”

  His green eyes flare in lust. “Indeed it has.”

  I smirk, then shake my head when he offers the glass to me again. “I think I’ll pass today.”

  His brows climb into his hairline. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine, I’ve just had a lot of alcohol this week. I’m going to take it easy today.”

  “Good idea,” he replies with a nod, and turns to the sommelier. “We won’t be tasting the samples today, but we will still want you to tell us about each one, and pour one glass for us to smell and examine.”

  “Absolutely,” the young man says with a professional smile, and begins his presentation. The wine smells amazing, and I make a note to order several cases for the bar before Mac and I make our way out to walk in the vines.

  “This is my favorite part,” I say quietly as we meander through the tall, green vines, all planted in perfect rows for as far as the eye can see.

  “The grapes?” he asks.

  “Yep.” I stop and hold a bunch of red grapes in my hands. They’re not quite ready to pick yet, but they will be in a couple of days. “They’re gorgeous.”

  “It smells good out here,” he replies, and takes a deep breath. “We’ve been lucky with the weather.”

  “I would say we’re just lucky.” I smile and wander farther through the vines. I’m in a weird mood today. Not nearly as happy as I usually am, but not sad in the least.

  Maybe it’s just
that I know tonight is my last night with Mac, and I’m a little melancholy about it. I mean, a girl doesn’t say good-bye to the best sex of her life every day.

  “Will you be my date to the farewell dinner tonight?” Mac asks from behind me. I glance at him over my shoulder and feel that feminine satisfaction well up in my chest.

  “I suppose you could talk me into that.”

  His lips twitch. I want to bite them.

  “I’m relieved to hear that.”

  Before I can walk back toward the bus, Mac snags my hand in his and pulls me against him, pinning my arms behind my back. His chest is hard against mine, his lips just inches away.

  “You are a sexy woman, Kat.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “Am I the only one who doesn’t want to say good-bye tomorrow?”

  I sigh and close my eyes for a brief moment, then look him in the eyes. “This isn’t the beginning of a relationship.”

  “We’ve both made that clear,” he says with a nod. “But I wouldn’t mind keeping in touch after we both get back to reality.”

  I shake my head slowly. “I think it’s best to just leave it be. We had a great time. We’re having a great time.”

  “What happens in Napa Valley stays in Napa Valley?”

  “Yes.” I chuckle and step back when he releases my hands. “Are you going to dance with me tonight?”

  “Of course,” he replies, and gently lays his hand on the small of my back, steering me toward the bus. “Just wait until you see what I can do on these feet.”

  “Are you going to trample me? Should I wear steel-toed shoes?”

  “You have no faith in me,” he replies with a pout. Even his pout is sexy. How is that even possible?

  “I’m just concerned about my feet,” I reply with a laugh. “I have to stand on these babies to work.”

  “Not only will your feet be fine, but you’ll be wowed by my rhythmic talent.”

  “That’s a lot to live up to.”

  “I’m up for the challenge.” He winks and gestures for me to climb onto the bus ahead of him.

  I’m sure he is.

  Okay, so he wasn’t lying. The man can dance. And I’m not just talking about moving in time to the music and not looking like a douchebag. He’s clearly had lessons at some point because he’s twirled and moved me across the dance floor all evening.

  My feet hurt, but not because he stepped on them. If anything, I may have injured him a time or two.

  “Seriously, where did you learn this?” I ask, panting as we sit at our table and I sip my glass of water.

  “My mother made me take lessons when I was a kid,” he replies with a shrug. “It comes in handy at weddings and bar mitzvahs.”

  “And wine conventions,” I add.

  “Seems so.”

  “You’re a man of many talents.” I blatantly let my eyes travel up and down his torso, fucking him along the way. I haven’t had any alcohol today, and my lust for him is as strong as ever.

  That’s a good sign.

  “Keep looking at me like that,” he says before taking a sip of water, “and I’ll fuck you against that wall in front of all of these people.”

  I smirk. “I wish.”

  He narrows his eyes and stands, takes my hand, and leads me out of the ballroom and down the hall to a dark, empty conference room. We slip inside. He doesn’t turn the lights on.

  “This isn’t in front of all of those people.”

  “No, but if you’re not quiet, someone might walk in here, and that’s rather exciting, don’t you think?”

  He’s backed me into the room, holding on to my shoulders and so close to me I can feel the waves of heat coming off his body.

  “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are in this dress?”

  “It doesn’t suck,” I reply, then gasp when he lifts me onto the table. One of my shoes slips off my foot and hits the floor with a thud.

  “You have a body made for sin,” he says, and gently bites my bare shoulder. “This red silk hugs every curve.”

  “I have lots of curves,” I reply. My voice is hoarse.

  “I love your curves.” He nibbles my collarbone. “Now, you’re going to need to be very quiet so we don’t draw any attention.”

  “Just kiss me while you fuck me, and I won’t be able to scream.”

  His lips twitch.

  “My lips are going to be busy doing other things.” He bunches my skirt in his fists, urges me to lift my hips so the skirt can be gathered around my waist, and sinks to his knees. “I love it when you don’t wear any panties.”

  “Easy access,” I murmur.

  “Did you do this just for me?”

  “Maybe.” I push my hands through his hair, wishing I could see his face better in the darkness. I love the way his green eyes shine when he’s turned on. “You’re still coming back to my room later, right?”

  “Kat?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop overthinking this.” He presses his lips to my thigh. “Lie back.”

  I comply, and he rests my feet on his shoulders, opening me wide, and before I know it, his mouth is on me, placing light kisses over my pubis, my clit, my lips.

  I don’t want it to be light. I want him to suck and bite, but if I’ve learned anything about Mac, it’s that he does everything in his own time.

  Rushing him only makes him slow down.

  Stubborn ass.

  Finally, he presses harder, sucks more firmly, and all I can do is clench onto the edge of the table and bite my lip, wanting nothing more than to cry out because of the amazing things he’s doing to me. I whimper and he pulls away.

  “I said be quiet.”

  “But you’re sucking on my clit.”

  “And I’m going to keep doing so, but you have to be quiet.”

  I nod, but he can’t see me.

  “Understand?”

  “Yes.” It’s a gasp. He pushes two fingers inside me and I lift my hips off the table as he curls his fingers and hits my spot. Jesus, he’s killing me.

  He latches his lips onto my clit and sucks, and that’s it. I go over the edge, thrashing my head side to side, but perfectly silent. Finally, he lets go, stands, and helps me sit up.

  “Let’s go back to my room.”

  “Oh no, sweetheart. The evening isn’t over yet. We still have some dancing to do.”

  “But I’m a wet mess.”

  He chuckles and kisses my forehead, then my lips. I can taste myself on him, and I just want to pull him into my room and fuck him until neither of us can stand.

  “I want you to be a wet, horny mess all evening, until I can get you back to your bed and have my way with you.”

  “You’re awfully bossy tonight.”

  But it’s not just tonight. He’s always bossy in the sex department. It’s one of the things I enjoy most about him. I have to have answers all day long in my life. I like being with a man who easily, effortlessly takes control in the bedroom.

  I’m shocked that I trust him enough to let him do that.

  But I do, and it’s been one of the best experiences of my life.

  Chapter Four

  ~Mac~

  She’s exhausted. She’s smiling and talking with her friends, hugging them, saying good-bye. But her eyes are just a little heavy, and her shoulders have slumped a bit. I want to get her to her room and hold her.

  She’d say that’s not on the sexcation agenda, but I don’t care.

  “Are you ready?” she asks when the last person moves on.

  “If you are.”

  She nods and glances around the room. “I think I spoke to everyone. My feet are starting to kill me.”

  “You’re wearing ridiculous heels,” I reply, and tuck a stray piece of her amazing red hair behind her ear.

  She narrows her eyes.

  “There is nothing ridiculous about Louboutins.”

  “There is when they’re that high.”

  “These shoe
s are gorgeous,” she replies with a sniff, raising her chin, ready to defend them to the death.

  She’s amazing.

  “No argument there. Let’s go up and get you out of them.”

  “You can probably talk me out of more than my shoes,” she says around a wide yawn. “The night is young.”

  “The night is an old man,” I reply with a laugh, and pull her in for a hug when the elevator doors close. I lean against the mirrored wall and cradle her against my chest, loving the way she fits just so.

  “I’m not tired,” she says, and yawns again.

  “Are you four?” I ask.

  “And a half.”

  “Hmm.” I bury my lips in her hair and breathe her in. She smells spicy, just like her personality.

  When we reach our floor, I guide her to her room, wait for her to unlock it, and follow her inside.

  She spins and reaches for me, tugging my jacket down my arms, but I slow her down before I strip her naked and fuck her against the door.

  “Slow down, Red.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.” I pin her with a stern look, and her brown eyes dilate just a little with lust. I love the way she responds to my demanding ways in the bedroom.

  She’s refreshing.

  “I want you to put on some comfortable clothes, and we’re going to order some room service.”

  She sags a little, as if in relief.

  I know what you need.

  “Ice cream?”

  “If you like.”

  “Oh, I like,” she says, shimmying out of her dress and bra, then fumbling around in her suitcase. I have to turn around to make a call to room service. Kat naked is more than tempting.

  I place our order, then gesture for Kat to sit in one of the armchairs by the window. I push the chairs together, sit across from her, and tug her foot into my lap. She’s still wearing her shoes.

  They’re black, sky-high, with a strap around her ankle and a red sole.

  “I love these shoes,” she murmurs as I unbuckle the strap and slip one off her foot, placing it gently on the floor. “Even if they do wreck my feet, they’re worth it.”

  “I’ve never understood women’s tolerance of these shoes.”

  “It’s not for men to understand,” she says, a smile tickling her red lips. I dig my thumb into the arch of her foot and she practically purrs. “Good God, you’ve been able to do that this whole time?”