by Lauren Dane
She pinkened and he ducked to kiss her.
People came up the trail so they moved to the side as they started back down once more.
* * *
RACHEL WATCHED THE scenery whiz by as he drove. Ideas came often enough that she had her notepad out and began working on a new idea, not realizing how close they were to home until he stopped at a stop sign just three blocks away.
“Would you like to come over?” she asked him.
“Yes. I’ll shower and come over after.”
As her bathroom had a pretty small shower, one that would challenge the width of his shoulders she was sure, she didn’t invite him to share hers.
He dropped her off and waited until she’d unlocked all three locks on the front door and went inside. Where she relocked everything, reset the alarm and toed off her shoes, tucking them into the hall closet before padding into the kitchen, where Alexsei stood at the sink.
Maybe was cleaning up what appeared to be an exploding blender.
“So I thought, how hard could it be to make smoothies? This is why I don’t cook,” Maybe said when she caught sight of Rachel.
“I suggested moderation in the total volume of fruit in the blender,” Alexsei said, making Rachel laugh.
“Maybe thinks moderation is for suckers,” she told him.
“Only when it’s about food. And sex. And sleep,” Maybe added.
“Atta girl. Vic is coming over in a bit so I’m going to clean up from our hike and be back down.”
Of course, Maybe was sitting on her bed after her shower.
“You’re in ambush mode all the time now,” Rachel said as she got changed. “One would think you’d have less time to stalk me like a jungle cat when you have a hot dude in your bed to take to bone town.”
“He sleeps with me. Believe me when I tell you I have a frequent flier card for trips to bone town. Speaking of bone town, I note the very sexy matching underwear you’ve got going on. I like to see you all giddy and sexy and stuff.” Maybe picked up a candle on the nightstand, sniffed it and put it back.
“Did Alexsei tell you about Valentine’s Day?” Rachel asked her.
“He did. It’ll be my first Valentine’s Day with like a for-real boyfriend. I know this is old hat for you but as such things go, it’s pretty cool so far. Except I don’t really know what to get him. What are you going to get Vic?”
“Jesus, Maybe! Now I’m going to be all nervous about it. I have no idea.”
“Well fuck. You’re the expert. What did you get Brad? You lived with him. He was all serious business until he put his penis in someone else while you were in a coma and all.”
Rachel snickered. Leave it to her sister to know just what to say to make her laugh. “Well see, that’s why you shouldn’t ask me for my opinion.”
“I highly doubt he cheated on you because you got him what? A watch or something?”
“I’m sure he’d say so.” Her ex was a total dick. A cheating dick who’d stolen money from their joint account while she was in that coma Maybe had just mentioned. “As for presents, I got him a cashmere sweater once. A watch, but a really nice one he wanted and wasn’t going to shut up about until he got it. And the last one I got him a Coach duffel. All very good gifts. All things he wanted. But I don’t think I’ll give Vic any of those things.”
“Why? He’d look gorgeous in a cashmere sweater.”
“He totally would. But I don’t think those presents would be for Valentine’s Day. I don’t know. It just feels like he’d appreciate a gift that meant something to him.” He struck her that way. Sentimental but not in a negative sense. “I’m going to look around and when I see the right thing it’ll jump out at me. I hope. It’s not like I can bake him something.”
Maybe nodded. “Not that you should complain because that means he will bake for you. And by extension, me. But you did give me good advice just now. I’ve been looking for the right present but I haven’t found it yet. I should be patient.”
“You got him that antique shaving set for Christmas and he loved that. You’re doing fine.”
“Look at us, panicking about Valentine’s Day like adults.” Maybe linked her arm with Rachel’s before heading back downstairs where the commotion signaled Vic’s arrival.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“SO,” SHE SAID quietly to Vic as the rest of the house played a round of Guitar Hero.
He turned and pulled her a little closer. “So?”
“You want a tour? Like to see my room?”
“Hell yes.”
She waved discreetly at Maybe who waggled her brows, and then led the way to her side of the house, where her bedroom was.
Once inside, he took a deep breath and then smiled. “I’ve been wondering just what your bedroom would smell like. Jasmine. Like your perfume.”
No other men had been up there. She did her fucking in other people’s houses, or in hotels. This was her space. Her intimate place she made and kept safe. Here she could truly let down her guard and be open.
Vic wasn’t anyone else, though, and she most certainly wanted him all to herself. Wanted him all over her sheets.
He waited for her to set the boundaries. Kept an eye on her and took his cues from that.
There was something comforting and yet sweet about how he was with her. Totally focused on her. Absolutely clear that he wanted more. But he didn’t rush into her space. Not that he wasn’t dominant and charming and didn’t still manage to get his way with that roguish thing he had going on. But he just let her lead in these moments.
Which was perfect.
“You should fuck me,” she said.
“Should I?” He closed the door at his back, leaning against it as he watched her with that smirk.
“Or, I can fuck you. Either way.” She shrugged.
“Hmm. Why don’t we take this step-by-step?”
She whipped off her sweater.
“Or, you could take your shirt off and show me just how fucking gorgeous you are without it. In fact, I’m thinking that’s the better choice,” he murmured.
“Now you,” she said, turning out the overhead lights in favor of her bedside lamp.
She lit some candles while not taking her gaze from him. Not wanting to miss the reveal she was sure was going to be really fantastic.
And when he pulled his shirt up and off, she knew she’d been right. He was beautiful.
“Your body is amazing. I want to lick you,” she murmured as she walked his way.
“I’m available for licking by you at any time. In fact it’s been a recurring fantasy of mine for years.”
He reached out, brushing his fingertips over the curve of her breast where it heaved from the bra she had on. And she was so glad she chose the sexy cute matching stuff instead of her comfy granny panties.
He told her in a voice rough like a caress, “For so long you were right here. So close. I saw you all the time and I had no ability to touch you this way. No ability to make all those fantasies of mine a reality.” He circled her, looking his fill until he stopped behind her. “Oh, your back. Hold still, I want to pet and look.”
He did exactly that. Slowly stroking his hands over her skin until she was all relaxed and tingly.
“This is beautiful.”
“It’s the first tattoo I got.”
From shoulder to shoulder, across her back, a branch with a birdcage hanging from it in gray-and-black dot work. The door open. The bird was on the branch and not in the cage.
Never again with the cage.
“Tell me,” he murmured before kissing the back of her neck.
Not only had it been her first tattoo, it had been her first tattoo design, one of her first drawings in therapy, and that theme had become a central concept in her life.
But she wanted to fuck him, not have that d
iscussion.
“After. I’ll tell you after,” she said, turning to face him.
He gave her a raised brow but she popped open the button on her jeans and that stopped him.
“You fight dirty,” he said.
“Not the only dirty thing I like to do.”
“You’re killing me. And you haven’t even taken your pants off yet.”
Rachel stepped from her jeans to remedy that.
He hissed and dropped to his knees, which only made her knees go rubbery.
“More birds.” He traced over the spots of red on the breasts of the three red house finches inked across her lower stomach in various states of wing movement.
He licked over her hip bone and she was the one who hissed. And again when he found the lines of her various scars. She flinched away but he followed, dropping gentle kisses over places born of an experience that had burned her to ash.
He kissed her scars like they were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. To be seen like that by this man staggered her.
Humbled her.
Made her feel like a fucking goddess.
She held on to his shoulders, keeping her balance as he destroyed her with those sweet, gentle kisses as he murmured what she assumed were some panty droppers in Russian.
Rachel dug deep into the sensation of the scrape of his beard against her side, just below her breast, the lazy flick of his tongue tracing the curve underneath, stopping short of her nipple as she held her breath.
Waiting for that explosion of pleasure when he scraped the edge of his teeth over her nipple before licking away the pain.
Her head dropped back as he slid one arm up her torso, his hand so big and powerful as it reached her chest, the edge of his fingers brushing against the hollow of her throat, bringing a gasp from her lips.
Every part of her was super-sensitive. Cells alight with sensation and each time he kissed or touched, it set off little sparks of desire.
On his knees before her like a supplicant, he coaxed every part of her awake. Need rolled over him in relentless waves as he struggled to hold it back. Hold back his instinct to gorge on her.
But it would be over too soon that way. She was so beautiful, he wanted to worship her the way she deserved. Wanted to learn her from head to toe. Wanted to burn himself into her memory, his touch into her skin so that it was him she thought of and no one else.
He hadn’t expected the matching lingerie, but it had been the ink, the owl on her thigh, the birds in flight from ankle to midcalf that had been so perfect. So sexy.
He had an idea about the story, but he wanted her to share it.
She grabbed at his shoulders then, attempting to get him to stand. He resisted a moment, pausing to breathe her in deep and press a kiss against the front of those pretty lacy panties.
“What is it I can do for you, then? Hmm, sweet?”
Amusement slid onto her features briefly. He stepped closer to steal a kiss while she got his pants unzipped.
He could have told her to slow down but he didn’t want that. He fucking burned for her.
Given the flare of her pupils, the parted lips and the gorgeous flush she wore, she burned equally for him.
He shoved out of his jeans and shorts while she watched. Couldn’t deny the pride when she caught sight of his cock and her smile went very satisfied.
She reached out to trace over the tattoo on his chest. “I admit I’ve wanted to see this for a while but there’s never been a good opportunity to get your shirt off.”
The full color, 1950s vintage-style death’s head moth had been his tribute to Danil.
“You could have asked. I’d have complied immediately.” He sucked in a breath as she tiptoed her fingers over to the piercing in his right nipple and flicked a fingernail over it.
“Noted for future reference.”
She kissed up his neck as she rubbed herself against his body. Setting off all sorts of alarms but in a good way.
He’d wanted this for so very long it was sort of a trip that it was actually happening.
That she’d been trying to get his shirt off amused him. How long had they both been ready but neither moved for fear of spooking the other?
She was warm and sweet and he didn’t stop himself from sliding his hands all over her skin, removing the last bits of clothes as he went. Acres of it and all for him.
He braced an arm around her waist and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he walked her over to the bed and fell to it with her.
They fit. Perfectly.
She undid his hair, running her fingers through it as she pulled him closer. This kiss was different. This kiss wasn’t a prelude to sex. This kiss was sex.
Her taste undid him as he licked into her mouth. The scrape of her teeth against his bottom lip sent a shiver through his body.
She’d landed with her legs still around him so he rested in the cradle she’d made for him. Again, fitting perfectly.
Rachel rolled her hips, grinding her pussy against him. Her wet heat sliding against his cock, rendering him nearly unconscious with pleasure. He wanted to be in her. Wanted that clench around his dick as he sank deep.
But first he had every single intention of making her come. And come hard.
He kissed down her neck, over the hollow of her throat, down her side and over each rib. She writhed slightly, so responsive to his touch. Her nails, short and neat, dug into the muscles at his shoulders, sending spikes of pleasure/pain through him.
Her nipple stood hard against his tongue as he swiped it over. Her whispered moan echoed in his head. Her muscles flexed against his as they moved against each other.
He was so hard his cock leaked. He pulled away from her a little to clear his head and keep her safe. Condoms. Yes, he needed to grab some from his pocket. But for the moment he needed to be about her.
Licking over velvety, sensitive skin, he kept heading toward her pussy, pausing again at her hip bones, nibbling around her belly button until he got to the other hip.
The sound she made when he paused, shoulders holding her thighs wide so he could look his fill at her—an entreaty, an order—tore at him as a pulse of exquisite pleasure fogged his senses and battered his control.
He spread her open and took a long slow lick. And then another, reveling in that silky sweetness. In the fine tremble in her muscles. He knew on some level that a loss of control wasn’t something she allowed herself very often. And he understood why.
He pushed though. Right to that edge. He licked and kissed her pussy like a lover. Told her just how addictive and sexy he found her.
What drove him hardest was the unabashed way she sought pleasure. There was no shying away. She was all in. Rolling her hips against his mouth. His hair in her very tight grip as she pulled him where she wanted.
She wasn’t exactly noisy, but she made the hottest moans, especially as she approached orgasm. He supposed she probably kept it up during her climax but she clamped her thighs over his ears so he couldn’t hear anything.
* * *
IN ONE LONG BREATH, Rachel released all the tension in her body, falling limp to the bed.
She would have praised what had been a very fine blow job, but she wasn’t sure if her lips—and the rest of her orgasm-stunned body—would be moving again for at least another minute or two.
He heaved himself up, resting his head on her belly, and she managed to get her muscles working well enough to reach out and caress some reachable part of that taut skin.
Rachel honestly couldn’t wait to tell her sister what Vic looked like without his shirt.
Well, okay, she could definitely wait until after some more sex with Vic.
“My toes are still tingly,” she told him as she reversed their positions so that she was on top of him, resting between his thighs. That first r
eal look at his cock had made all the spit in her mouth dry up.
He laughed, easy and confident. Preening a little as he shifted his arms above his head, he lured her in for a kiss that tasted of her.
“You’re a lot like a big cat at play. Most of the time you’re sassy and charming, but when you want something you move.” That he’d gone so suddenly from laid back to hyperintense and focused was dizzying.
And it made her wary. This close, this intimate she could see the predator in him. Like to like. He could hurt her.
She closed her eyes against the panic attempting to well up, instead redoubling her focus on him. On the way he felt skin to skin with her. On the taste of him as she licked over his nipple and the bar she’d suspected but hadn’t seen until that night.
“This.” Pulling back enough to look up into his face. “Quite the surprise under those shirts.”
“Good surprise?” he teased as he slid his palms up her sides and around to cup her breasts. “As in, these were a very good surprise. Better than I’d imagined.”
As if he’d sensed she needed to lighten up a little so he could charm her back from her panic.
He’d been right.
“Yes. A very good surprise.” Like a fucking hot secret she hadn’t known until she got to find out this way. So much better than seeing him working in the garden without a shirt or something. “Very sexy.”
She kissed her way down his—ridiculously firm—belly, down that trail of hair leading to his—seriously impressive—cock.
“Now this?” She traced a fingertip from the root to the tip, slick with precome. “This is an excellent surprise.” Gaze locked with his, she licked her fingertip before grabbing him in her fist, sliding her hand up and down a few times.
He groaned, a little growl at the end that had her bending to lick around the head to the crown. That growl went into a snarl.
Feeling very satisfied with all that power, she changed positions to better get at him, licking and sucking until he was little more than the writhing mass he’d reduced her to.
He was big enough that she couldn’t get the whole thing in her mouth, but it didn’t matter. Not really. She did the best she could with what she had and he seemed to be pretty happy with the result.
