by Megan Hart
“Do that again,” he said under his breath.
She did, working internal muscles, and Julian’s breath stopped for a moment before he let it out in a sigh. “Brilliant…”
She laughed, gasping, and his eyes opened. His pupils had dilated, the black circles nearly devouring the gray irises. Georgie felt like she was drowning in them, lost in Julian’s eyes.
He laughed, too, the sound as breathless as hers had been. He moved them both, pushing her up and following her so he was sitting and her legs were wrapped around his waist. His hand cupped her buttocks and moved her as he thrust.
“Laugh again,” he said.
She did, not because anything was particularly amusing, but because it seemed the natural expression to make when faced with the bliss her body was experiencing.
“Every time you laugh, you tighten around me,” Julian said. “Fuck, it’s driving me insane.”
He captured her mouth again. He was kissing her when she came, and he swallowed her cry of pleasure.
She couldn’t think of anything but how good this felt, this explosion of ecstasy that filled every cell of her body.
His hands tightened on her, and he thrust, and cried out into her mouth. His cock pulsed and throbbed inside her.
Sweat glued them together, chests and bellies. His arms went around her back, cradling her close, and his face fit perfectly into the curve of her shoulder. His hair tickled her cheeks as she closed her eyes, holding him as close to her as he was holding her.
“Bette Davis,” Julian said suddenly, startling her.
She looked down at him. “What?”
He grinned. “Lana Turner, Marilyn Monroe and Bette Davis. That’s who you remind me of.”
The spot-on way he’d nailed her inspiration floored her, but Georgie rallied. “Fasten your seat belts. It’s going to be a bumpy night,” she quoted from All About Eve.
Julian ran his hands over her back. “You’ll have to give me a few minutes, love. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Georgie blinked, and a minute after that, they were both laughing again.
9
“I’m going to absolutely murder all the chocolate in here.”
Julian slid an arm behind his head, watching Georgie pull open the mini-bar. She’d donned the plush robe from the hook on the back of the bathroom door, but had barely tied it. Every time she bent, he caught a tantalizing glimpse of breast, belly, thigh. She looked over her shoulder at him, her hair falling over one eye, and her smile did him in. Utterly.
They’d had mind-blowing sex, followed by conversation about poetry, politics, literature…his mind had been as thoroughly satisfied as his prick, and that was something that hardly ever happened. She was bright, this one, in addition to being sexy, and he couldn’t believe Cassie had never before introduced them.
“Want some?”
“No, love, you go wild.” He was done with his years of raiding the mini-bar for sugar in the wee hours. It would only rest heavy in his stomach. It was hard enough to keep trim on tour, he didn’t need to add to it.
“Okay.” That smile again, not quite sly. She rooted around inside and pulled out some outrageously expensive confection of nuts, nougat and chocolate. Tearing off the paper, Georgie came back to bed and sat next to him. The robe gaped open, but she didn’t seem concerned at the view she was giving him.
Julian took advantage of that lack of self-consciousness to fully enjoy the sight of her body. He watched her take a bite. Watched her lick her fingers.
“What?” She paused after swallowing the mouthful of chocolate.
“You’re a delight to watch.”
She said nothing for a moment, concentrating on licking her fingertips clean. “How so?”
He waved a lazy hand. “I like the way you eat. And sit. So easy. You’re a woman who knows herself. I like that. I spend too much time with women convinced fat can be acquired from the mere aroma of a hamburger. They wear their bodies like designer outfits, to be admired and updated every time the style changes, not something to be comfortable in.”
She blinked rapidly, the candy forgotten in her hand. She looked down, and Julian sat, thinking he’d offended her. He reached to touch her face and get her to look at him.
“Georgie?”
She put the candy on the nightstand. “Come here.”
He leaned in automatically, without stopping long to think on how it was she could command him so, as if she expected nothing less than immediate acquiescence, or about why he was all too happy to give it.
She kissed him, putting his face between her palms and holding him in place. He tasted chocolate. She tasted him, sliding her tongue along his lips and diving inside like he was a treat to be devoured the way she’d eaten the candy. Intoxicating, to be kissed this way, when usually he was the one doing all the work.
She broke the kiss, both of them breathing hard. She looked into his eyes. “I want to try out your shower.”
Julian grinned. Fully sated by their round of lovemaking, he’d been too lazy to get up and clean off. But this was an entirely different incentive.
“The eyegasm,” he murmured and ducked his head to run his lips along her neck.
Georgie sighed and tilted her head to give him access. He licked her skin, tasting sweat and something purely female and arousing. The robe gaped a bit wider and he reached in a hand to cup her breast, the nipple already erect and taut on his palm.
“Come on,” she breathed, inching back. “Don’t distract me.”
“You’re distracting me,” he protested, but followed her willingly enough.
She shed the robe as she headed for the bathroom, and the graceful way she let the material reveal her body as it fell away made his cock twitch. She was sex on heels, this one, even if, at the moment, her glorious pumps had been cast aside.
In the bathroom, Georgie twisted and fiddled with the faucets until the hot water squirted out. A moment after she did something else and steam, scented with eucalyptus and lavender, fogged from hidden jets in the tile.
“Nice,” she commented, turning to look at him. “I might never leave.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” he said, without thinking, and she gave him that mysterious look again, like she was weighing him.
Georgie didn’t answer him with words, just crooked her finger at him as she backed into the shower’s curving entrance. Julian followed, breathing in the steam and letting out a little sigh of pleasure when the hot spray needled him.
“Fuck, I’d stay in here for hours.” He turned to let the water pound on his back.
Georgie had settled herself on the curving tile bench. “I’d sleep in here if I could.”
Julian put a hand on the wall above her head, looking down at her. He’d often thought the same thing. Hearing her say it aloud made him smile. “Me, too.”
“We should invent that. A shower bed.” Georgie reached for his hip, her fingers splaying on his wet skin. She pulled him a step closer. He put his other hand on the wall. “We’d make millions.”
She took his cock in one hand, stroking it from semi-interested to fully awake in a matter of seconds. Julian’s breath stuttered in his throat when she moved between his legs to cup his balls. Her thumb stroked the wet flesh, a finger explored along his perineum, and he obliged her by setting his stance a bit wider.
“Millions,” he agreed, not capable at the moment of coming up with a more clever reply.
She reached for the soft washcloth and the bottle of shower gel he’d brought along. No harsh, cheap hotel soaps for Julian. She squeezed some onto the cloth, then tilted her face up to him. His body shielded her from the direct spray, but water droplets had gathered in her hair like diamonds. Her skin gleamed with moisture and flushed from the heat. Her makeup hadn’t smeared, and he was tempted to ask her the brand of mascara she used, but didn’t. Her hand, stroking him with the washcloth, was more important at the moment.
She washed his cock, then his balls, jerking h
im with an air he found utterly arousing in its seeming innocence. Her hand slid between his legs, up and down his thighs, her grasp made slick with suds. In moments he was groaning and pushing forward into her hand.
“I haven’t had anyone wash me since I was in nappies,” he breathed. “And let me tell you, sweetheart, nanny never did it like that.”
Georgie laughed, that rich sound he found so erotic. She put aside the cloth and let the water rinse him clean, while she ran her hands up and down his sides. “I should hope not.”
She let her hands stop their roving, one on each hip, and pulled him another step closer. Seated as she was, his erection was on a level with her luscious mouth. She licked her lips and looked up at him from under lashes aglitter with condensation.
He pulled in a breath, waiting. Georgie didn’t tease or disappoint. She opened that perfect mouth and took him inside, all the way to the root, and Julian let out a muttered exclamation at the sudden sensation of heat on his cock.
She took him in just a bit farther than he’d expected her to, and his hips bucked forward in unconscious response. He nudged the back of her throat, a delight to which he’d rarely been treated, despite the many who’d claimed they had the talent. Then yet again she pulled him closer, tightening her lips around him.
“Fucking hell,” Julian said, as she slid his length slowly out of her mouth and sucked gently at the head. That was all he could say. No woman had ever taken his entire erection down her throat before; there’d been damn few who’d even managed half. Enthusiasm could surely make up for lack of skill, but Georgie had both.
She took him in again, using a hand to stroke his balls, and he was glad for the wall to help him stay upright. She used her other hand to anchor his cock as she sucked. When a moment later she withdrew her mouth, but added the use of her hand, he groaned. Hand and mouth, working in tandem, she fucked his prick.
The water pounded down over him, sluicing over his shoulders and down his chest and belly toward his groin. It slid into the crack of his ass, the backs of his thighs, ran through his hair. It was like being sucked off while a thousand tongues stroked the rest of him, and Georgie clearly knew just how to use that to her advantage. Using her hands and mouth she moved and shifted him, sucked and stroked, urged him toward an explosion of pleasure that made him frankly a bit light-headed.
He moaned her name, the taste of it as sweet to him as the candy he’d refused. He looked down at her head, her hair now soaked and hanging over her shoulders. She’d put a hand between her legs. Her fingertip circled on her clit. The sight of it made his balls throb and he pushed into her mouth, helpless against the desire to fuck, to move, to satisfy the ache in his balls.
He stroked a hand over her hair, pushing it off her face and away from her mouth. She paused in pleasing him to look up at him, her gaze unreadable, until she smiled. She leaned back against the wall, one hand still moving up and down on his prick and the other getting herself off.
It was entirely erotic. The sight of her pretty pink slit, open to his gaze as she stroked her clit, made pre-cum ooze out of him in one small orgasmic spasm that made him gasp. Georgie moaned, her lashes fluttering. Without thinking twice Julian went to his knees in front of her.
He parted her thighs wide. Her hips tilted as she moved to the edge of the bench. He moved to let water patter against her clit, standing upright and engorged. She cried out as the water caressed her folds.
Enthralled, he bent to taste her. She cried out again. He put a finger inside her, then another, and fucked her that way, while he alternated between licking her pussy and letting the shower tickle her clit.
Georgie arched her back, her head against the shower wall. Steam floated around them, turning everything hazy. He wanted to be inside her so badly he shuddered, but didn’t want to take the time to leave the shower and rustle in the nightstand drawer.
Instead he satisfied himself with tasting her again. He added a third finger, stretching her, and when she yelped and dug her fingernails into his shoulder, Julian’s prick answered with another spasm.
“Fuck,” he muttered, nuzzling that sweet pussy and pulling away to watch her flesh surround his fingers. “I’m going to come just from feeling you on my tongue.”
Georgie’s half-cry tightened his balls. Julian curved a finger, seeking the small spot inside her. She jerked when he found it. Her nails dug harder, but he didn’t care. The shower would wash away the blood and he was so far gone into pleasure he barely noticed the sting.
She cried out his name, a never-fail trigger to his libido. He moaned hers, something that happened far more rarely. Her cunt tightened on his fingers and the tiny bud of her clit between his lips grew larger. She shouted, a sheer, abandoned cry of ecstasy that sent him over the edge.
He came, cock jetting spurt after spurt of come, without even his own hand to force it. Nothing but the sound of his name in her passion-hoarse voice and the smell and taste of her as she came beneath his tongue.
He came forever, each spasm forcing a groan from him. He eased his fingers from her and kissed her clit, still twitching, and then lipped it gently, while she twitched. He kissed her soft curls, then her belly, up to her breasts, her throat, and found her mouth.
He kissed her and she put her arms around his neck, holding him close to her, and he took her in his arms like it was the most natural place in the world for her to be. The water pounded down around them, with a sound like rain, and he looked into her face, shaken by the sudden force of emotion rocking him.
She was crying. But the next instant, Georgie smiled and Julian convinced himself it was nothing but the shower that traced water down her cheeks. He kissed her again, searching for the taste of salt, but even if they had been tears, the shower had washed them away.
10
Georgie opened her eyes in a darkness the clock told her was just pre-dawn. They’d slept for only two hours, and her body protested being so rudely deprived of the benefit of dreams, but Georgie forced her eyes to stay open.
Dreams would come later. They’d have to, because they’d be all she would have after tonight was over. Right now, she had to make the memories that would come later in dreams.
She’d never intended for this to be more than one night. Everything they’d done had surpassed all her expectations, but it was more than the sex. Julian was smarter than she’d have guessed, with a sense of self-deprecating humor she was helpless not to find charming. He might appear to be a vain and foppish fashion plate, a man-whore, but he was also an unfailingly considerate lover.
And he was smart. Not just a smart-ass, which she’d expected. He knew Shakespeare. He knew Wilde and cummings and Burns, Bach and Beethoven and Mozart. Beneath the purple hair and glitter was a brain.
That scared her. It was easy to imagine taking the rock star to bed, taking advantage of his prodigious bedroom skills. It was his cock she’d wanted, but she’d already half-fallen for his brain.
Falling wasn’t part of the plan, she reminded herself harshly. One night.
She listened to the sound of his breathing, the slow steady in/out push of it comforting. She’d missed sleeping with Joe more than she’d missed having sex with him. The warmth of a body beside her in bed, knowing there was someone there.
Georgie ran her hands over her body, her fingers sliding between her legs. She was tender there, but in a good way. Stretched. She stroked her clit a little, lightly, thinking of how Julian’s tongue felt on it. The bundle of nerves, teased by her imagination, tingled.
Georgie rolled onto her side, facing him. In the darkness he was little more than a series of humps under the blankets. She inched closer, seeking his warmth, and pressed her body to his.
Julian shifted, his arm going around her and pulling her close. Chest to chest, pussy to cock. She slid her thigh between his. His fingers stroked her bare shoulder blade. His sleep-slow breath ghosted along her face.
His mind might be sleeping, but his cock, bless it, had other ideas. It
stirred against her, lengthening in the trapped spot between their bodies. The soft sac of his testicles weighed on her thigh and she pressed upward, gently, rocking her body against him.
He murmured, his mouth finding her jaw, but she couldn’t be sure he was awake or only dreaming. Georgie let her hand slide down the knobbed ridge of his spine, one bump at a time. She traced the cleft of his ass, dipping low between his thighs to stroke his balls from behind. At this intimate touch, Julian shifted with a murmur, and his cock twitched.
Three times in a night was a lot to ask, but she was going to try. Georgie kissed his skin, a shoulder or his chest, she couldn’t be sure. It didn’t matter. Her tongue flickered out to taste him. He tasted clean, no surprise considering the amount of time they’d been in the shower. Her fingers trailed along the back of his thigh and over his ass again.
Julian pushed his cock against her stomach. His lips tickled her ear. His breathing had quickened.
They didn’t speak.
The darkness helped, somehow. It took away the need for words. Their mouths met, open, tongue on tongue, and they spoke that way. Hands stroked along skin. His cock throbbed on her belly. She didn’t need to talk to tell him what she wanted. Julian just knew.
With some easy shifting, he rolled her. The entire night, Georgie had felt in control. In charge. She’d been the one calling the shots.
It was nice to give up, a little, to him, to not know what was coming next. She sighed, arching a bit as he settled her head on the pillow and covered her body with his. He moved slowly. Slow kisses, slow caresses, until every nerve tingled and fizzed with desire.
He knew how to play a woman’s body with as much skill as he played a keyboard, but this felt different. She didn’t feel played. With Julian tracing the line of her jaw with his lips, she felt…taken care of.
The feeling startled her into a gasp, smothered by his mouth as he kissed her again. His hands ran up her sides to cup her breasts, and, in the next minute, he’d brought them together so he could suckle first one nipple, then the other.