by Cari Quinn
Other, less discriminating parts of him weren’t quite so irritated.
What was she doing up here? And why hadn’t he noticed her car pull up? He’d passed her in the parking lot when he’d come back with her part, and he’d decided to wait around for a couple hours to see if she returned rather than letting himself in her place to fix it. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have plenty of work to take care of in the building.
But after almost two hours laying flooring, he’d been desperate for some fresh air. Plus the heat meant the potted trees would need some water, so he’d filled his watering can and come upstairs. About five minutes before it started to rain.
He took a deep breath to give himself another moment, and her scent shot right past his brain to his already waking cock.
Fuck.
“It’s me.” Duh. She only met you once. He cleared his throat. “Dillon.”
“Dillon?” As if she didn’t believe him, she charged up the steps and stopped two below the top, wincing as rain sprayed into her face. “What’re you doing up here?”
“Maintenance stuff,” he said shortly, turning sideways to make room for her to shimmy past him onto the roof. The space was pretty big and surrounded by a concrete wall made even higher by the growth of shrubbery along the top. He’d been working up there for months, trying out some of the green ideas he’d been learning about online. It wasn’t much to look at yet, but eventually the vegetation on the roof would help with heating and cooling the building, along with being ecologically friendly.
No one knew what he was doing up there. Not his parents, not Cory. His brother would’ve laughed his ass off, especially if he’d learned the amount of time Dillon had spent investigating the options. Then there was building the rooftop garden itself, which took its share of time as well. Selecting the right plants, learning about drainage systems, making it look more like an organized plan rather than a hodgepodge of shrubs and trees.
Shrubs and trees she was now staring at. Silently. Any time now she’d roll her eyes and his annoyance would skyrocket into the red zone.
“Uh, it’s raining,” he said, opening the door wider. “We should get downstairs.”
She turned back to him, the tilt of her stance stealing his weather preparedness speech from his data banks. Right then he could be split open and seared like a filet mignon and he’d probably die thinking about the deep vee of Alexa’s skinny tank top.
Damn, she had a smokin’ figure. Gorgeous breasts outlined in tight purple cotton and a pert little ass in even tighter denim. He’d been up against that ass, and he wanted those breasts in his hands. In his mouth.
“You did this?” she asked.
He frowned at the way she waved her hand at his half-finished garden. “So what if I did?” He swiped the hem of his damp T-shirt over his equally damp face. All he could think about was slipping those skimpy straps off her shoulders and feasting on her skin, and she wanted to talk trees?
Florist or not, he was willing to bet she hadn’t done the research he had about how bamboo and green plants were—
She moved whip-fast, slamming her hands on his chest and him against the door before his brain caught up. The watering can clattered onto the ground. She spared it a brief, puzzled glance, then fisted her hands in his T-shirt and arched up, her mouth coming closer—
Fuck it.
He fused his mouth to hers, and dammit, it was even better than he’d expected. She didn’t yield to him but struggled a bit, as if she was shocked he’d taken over. That made it even hotter. He slanted his lips over hers when her startled squeak granted him access to the warm sweetness inside. Perfect. He took full advantage of her surprise to explore her with long, slow licks of his tongue.
Maybe his head couldn’t compute what was happening, but his body sure could. He cupped her ass and rocked his hips against hers, all too aware of his violent reaction to her nearness. His dick still hadn’t recovered from their bump-and-grind in her bathroom and apparently had no trouble asserting its readiness to play. Recovered now, she didn’t shy away, and instead rubbed against him, her curves sliding against him in a way that had him groaning and pulling back so hard he thunked his head on the closed door.
He couldn’t do this. Oh, God, he had to. She was going wild against him, and he didn’t have any defenses against his hunger for her. Not when he wanted nothing more than this. Just this.
“What are we doing?” he managed as she dragged her lips down his Adam’s apple. Stars danced in his vision and hell if he knew if they were from the head jolt or from their kiss.
She didn’t answer him, just skated her hands down his torso and under his shirt. And what hands they were. She seemed to be touching him everywhere. He clung to her ass as if she was his only port in the storm, and sure enough, a bolt of lightning sizzled overhead followed by a crack of thunder. But Alexa never paused. He’d become her canvas and her fingers were her paintbrush. She sketched every ridge of muscle, every line of bone. And then the column of his cock, wedged tight into his jeans. She touched him with confidence and skill, the kind that would soon have him driving his hands into her hair and pushing her to her knees if she didn’t stop.
But a woman like her wasn’t meant for a quick fuck against a door, even if that was what she acted like she wanted. Even if he longed for her so much that he didn’t care about anything but stealing this moment and making it theirs. He must be misreading her signals, though he was pretty adept at picking up sexual cues. Or else he’d sent some crazy ones of his own.
“Alexa.” Though it took all his faculties just to get out that one word, she ignored him. Completely.
She cupped him and nipped his jaw, her teeth offering a sharp counterpoint to her palm’s soft touch. His shaft lurched in her hold and she let out a delighted purr.
“Lex,” he tried again, her name ending in a moan. “You don’t know who I am.”
He expected her to stiffen, to look up at him with those huge bluebell eyes he’d gone a little nuts for the first time he’d looked at her. She didn’t.
“Alexa, listen to me.” He wrapped her braid around his hand and tugged up her head, something sharp dislodging inside him the instant their gazes clashed. In the waning light, he could just make out the lust on her finely boned face. It transformed her somehow, changed her from someone he should protect—from him—into a woman he needed at all costs. “You don’t understand.”
She didn’t. Hell, at the moment, he didn’t either. Because he didn’t feel like he was lying or hiding anything. He wanted to strip away the barriers between them, and this was the best way he knew how. Words were unnecessary, the language of miscommunication. Kisses and long looks and sultry touches—that was the truth, and she was the only one he could share it with.
Right now who he really was didn’t matter. She knew the important stuff. He was a guy. She was a woman. Certain areas were meant to fit together. Who even cared who his family was? Maybe she really didn’t even hate the hardware store. Maybe she had a secret girl-crush on it and went in there every day to fondle all the trusty hammers and saws…
Yep, he needed help. The kind he’d find alone by himself, far, far from distractions with anklets and eyes as big as moons.
“You don’t understand,” she whispered, gripping the back of his neck. She was tall for a woman, and even in flats she could reach all the important parts with only a modicum of stretching. “I don’t want to know who you are. I don’t care. All I want is for you to make me come.”
Okay, yeah, that sent his brain on hiatus. His conscience packed its bags too. Forget it, buddy. You’re on your own now.
“Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you,” he said against her temple.
“I won’t say anything about tonight again. Just fuck me and we’ll move on. It’ll be like it never happened.” Out here, her eyes were darker and more luminous. They were filled with desire, definitely, but they were tinged with sadness too. And desperation. They pulled him in so deep there wa
s only one answer he could give.
Except his cock ached so much he couldn’t say anything at all. So he showed her.
He pulled on her braid and jerked her against him, absorbing her gasp with his mouth. His tongue swept between her parted lips and claimed hers, drawing her into an urgent thrust-and-retreat. All the while he sculpted her ass in his hands, massaging gently. First through her shorts, then beneath once he’d undone the zipper and slipped inside.
He hissed upon meeting the thin strip of fabric between her cheeks, somehow not surprised she’d gone the thong route. Her flesh burned his palms, hotter than even the rain that now pelted them with the force of countless tiny nails. But she was all he could feel, all he could taste as they consumed each other with ravenous kisses. She’d had wine and only now did it register in his brain, the crisp, fruity notes of it. And more, something chocolaty and rich. Or maybe that was just her, sweet and luscious all the way to the center. A deception for the senses, so that by the time he realized he was caught, it was too late. She had him.
And, oh shit, did she have him. Lock, stock, and fully loaded barrel, ready to blow.
Her hands were on his cock, working it in rough pulls through his jeans. He yanked down the shoulder of her tank top and feasted on the swell of flesh that plumped over the top, using his tongue to trace her damp nipple. Slick with rain, fragrant with her summery floral scent. Sunshine in the middle of the storm.
She made a choked sound as she latched onto his scalp with her nails, her other hand still busy between them. Impatient, he pulled the fabric down so that her breast popped over the top and into his waiting mouth.
A scrape of teeth, a hard suck, and she was writhing against him, the jerks of her hips against his already-straining shaft adding an unintended friction that made him pant.
When he couldn’t take it anymore, when even the ozone-stung air burned his raw throat, he seized hold of her hips and turned her to face the door, caging her between him and the wood with his arms and his body. He scissored his teeth over the soft flesh of her neck while he spanned his hands across her waist. She felt so good in his arms, a live wire quivering with energy. “Still want this?” he whispered, his tongue zeroing in on the hollow behind her earlobe.
“God, yes. More than ever.” She reached back to grab his ass, hauling him so close that they slammed together against the door. “Put your hands on me. All over me.”
He stretched his fingers, teasing her with their nearness to the open zipper of her shorts. “I’m already touching you.” He wanted his mouth on her, everywhere. Wanted to hear her scream.
“Not enough.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him down where she wanted him, holding him between her thighs so that he could feel the heat throbbing through the denim. “Dammit.”
The hissed curse instead of a plea made him grin and relent. He dove inside and drew a finger through the moisture that awaited him, flicking the edge of his fingertip over her swollen flesh. She was soaked inside and out, her own inferno as relentless as the storm that bore down on them.
“Beautiful.” He pulled her earlobe between his teeth, her stud earring clinking against his teeth. Bit down when she moaned. “Make those noises for me.”
She complied eagerly, and her uninhibited sounds drove him insane. He nipped her lobe again, eliciting more of her whimpers, and finally gave her a taste of what she begged for.
With a circle of his finger she stilled in his arms. With another she came back to life, clutching him deeper. Tempting him with small rocks of her pelvis. Drawing him to claim her there, first with his fingers, then his cock. That last joining would be both the beginning and their end.
Don’t go there. Not now.
He stroked her sex as slowly as the raging need inside him would allow, letting his want flow out through his touch and into her willing body. If he made this good for her, if she got the orgasm she’d sought, he’d be able to sleep tonight. Giving her the release—and the escape—she craved would feed his own urges. And hopefully, vanquish them entirely in her direction.
This was his turf, both literally and metaphorically, and she couldn’t knock him off his stride here. He wouldn’t let her.
He pumped two fingers into her and sucked on the side of her neck, dimly realizing he would mark her skin. Some petty, elemental part of him wanted to brand her. For this fleeting moment, he could call her his. And could make sure she saw him on her when she looked in the mirror tomorrow, no matter what she told herself about what they’d been to each other.
Her pleasure seeped into his skin, torturing him more than the divots of driving rain he shielded her from. The hard nub beneath his thumb pulsed with her growing excitement, but it was her moans that led him on, taking him to the edge with her breathy, dirty demands.
“Get me off. I’m so close. Can you feel it?” He just barely heard her over the rush of the wind, but the words lanced into his gut and twisted coils of desire around his balls.
“I feel everything.” Too much, all rushing at him with the speed of an avalanche. If he didn’t jump out of the way, he’d get buried. It was an odds game, calculating how much she could take. How much he could stand.
Dillon squeezed his eyes shut and dragged her back against him, grinding his painfully stiff cock into the crease of her ass. Desperate for something to give him some relief. To build the pressure more, until one of them broke.
She squeezed him, her inner walls starting to spasm. “God, I’m gonna—”
“No.” His gruff denial cut her off. He wouldn’t go easy on her. Maybe other men leaped to do her bidding—he totally didn’t blame them—but he’d be damned if he helped her forget him. “Not yet.”
She whimpered when he drew his thumb away from her clit, his fingers never letting up inside. “Yes yet. Now,” she breathed at his sharp tug on her braid.
“No,” he repeated. He nuzzled her shoulder while he lowered his hand to her breast, still distended over her shirt. The beaded nipple pressed into his palm and he plucked at it, hard; gauging from the noises she made she wanted rough more than soft. Appearances could be deceiving, and this woman who made her living with flowers seemed to crave the dark and lewd with the same ferociousness he did. As she proved when he flicked her clit and she nearly went off, her body lunging forward until she banged her forehead against the door.
“You want it?” he grated against her cheek.
He wanted her to beg, to say it in no uncertain terms. She didn’t give in. But her drenched, throbbing flesh told him, especially when he released her breast to fumble in his back pocket for his wallet. She grew wetter, more pliant. More ready for him to take what she so eagerly gave.
She snatched his wallet and searched through it in silence, her heavy breaths the only sign she ached as much as he did. His fingers picked up their pace inside her as she ripped the foil packet between her teeth, then passed it back with an accompanying proprietary stroke. His neglected cock jumped and she let out a throaty laugh, the sound of a woman who knew she had him under her spell. “Guess you want it?”
“You know I do.” He couldn’t help his growl, any more than he could stop himself from yanking down his jeans and boxers so he could torture her with a little skin-on-skin contact before he suited up. She slicked her hand up and down, coasting on the trickle of arousal that slipped free. Under her touch it multiplied, until he had to drop his head back and stare up at the seething gray sky.
If he’d had the energy to look around, he would’ve seen the world stretched out around them. Twinkling lights. Shadowy trees and hills. Buildings rising up out of the ground. As close as they seemed from up here, they might as well have been a million miles away from the web they’d spun around themselves, binding them together in the dark.
He twisted his fingers free of her snug heat and used the wet to outline her lips. She didn’t balk, and instead darted out her tongue to sample what he’d left behind.
“Goddamn, woman.”
She taunted him
with a wiggle of her ass. “Fuck me already.”
With one pull, he had her shorts and panties down, baring her pale cheeks to his hungry gaze. He wanted to see more of her. Everything. Right now he’d have to settle for feeling her, inch by inch.
He jerked on the condom with shaking fingers and stilled her sensuous movements with a shallow thrust before he pulled out and left her wanting. Then again and again, going slightly deeper, just enough to earn her ragged breaths and the pinch of her nails into his ass.
God, what he wouldn’t give to feel that bite of pain down his back as she hauled him into her sweet, slick sex. From this position she couldn’t do much more than slam him into her, which was the exact opposite of what he wanted. She wouldn’t control this pace. She wouldn’t rule his body as she’d already taken over his head, filling him with her so that he breathed her in every time their bodies merged.
If he went faster, if he yielded to the demands of his own longing, this would be over. A night that wasn’t. A memory he refused to put on the shelf until he’d wrung it dry.
But his hips picked up the beat anyway, lunging into her while she opened herself to him and let him take. She massaged him from inside, her walls clasping him in a spasm that pulsated all the way from the head of his dick to the soles of his feet.
“Harder.” She rocked into him, her head bouncing against his shoulder. Her pale breast bobbing like a buoy in the boiling ocean that surrounded them. “I want it.”
His cock took up the charge without his help, surging into the searing clasp of her body in a ceaseless rhythm. He bruised her with his punishing hold, deliberately testing her limits, and she only grew more slippery and hot. Trying to corral her desire was like tossing a Molotov cocktail into a forest.
Once more he pulled back in a futile attempt to prolong the inevitable, but she gripped him deep and tight, ripping a shout from him when the first gush of her release took him under. Her orgasm rippled all the way through him, as strong as the lash of rain against his back and neck. He drove into her over and over, his climax firing pinwheels of light behind his closed lids. An explosion of white-hot energy, unleashed.
