by Vi Keeland
His hand slips under my panties. “Look at me.” His voice is throaty and incredibly masculine. “And then, I’m going to lick you until you scream my name.” He dips one finger inside of me. My eyes shut. It’s been a long time. Too long, but I’m suddenly happy I’ve been on a self-imposed hiatus.
“You’re so tight,” he groans. “Jesus, Kate.” He works me slowly, my wetness allowing him to glide in and out. Feeling my body surrender, he pulls almost all the way out and pushes back in with two fingers. A few pumps and my body greedily accepts him, my back arching off the bed as I climb closer to release.
Covering my clit with his thumb, he growls when I let out a shameless moan of pleasure. His eyes flare with desire and our gazes lock. It takes all of my willpower not to close my eyes as blissful waves of orgasm roll over me. My hips writhe to meet each wave, riding the rollercoaster from explosion to euphoria.
Cooper’s hoarse voice mumbles something, but the words are incoherent over the sound of my heart beating wildly. What remains of my clothes are rapidly discarded, and it isn’t until I feel him hauling me down the bed that I’m even aware of what he’s doing.
Dropping to his knees, my ass hovering at the foot of the bed, he parts my shaky legs and his mouth is on me before I can object. A futile attempt to push him away is short lived when his tongue flutters over my clit. Jesus. The man has me on the edge again within thirty seconds.
Abandoning my efforts to stop him in favor of raveling my fingers through his hair and pulling him closer as he laps at me hungrily, I yield to his skilled mouth. My body trembles as his tongue dips inside me, luring an unabashed moan as my second orgasm threatens quickly. His hands push my thighs wider, his mouth licking and sucking, his tongue lashing furiously over my swollen clit until I explode again, this time gasping his name.
I think I may have lost a few moments in time, somewhere between orgasm number two and his repositioning me in the center of his heavenly king-sized bed. But then the lush green eyes filled with golden sunflowers are staring down at me, his rigid cock throbbing near my tender opening.
“Reach up,” he says in a firm, yet strained, voice.
My heavily hooded eyes must display my confusion.
“Hold the headboard with both hands.”
“But …”
“Do it, Kate.”
I lift my arms, reaching over my head for the iron headboard. It’s cold, but I wrap my heated palms around the rounded metal and squeeze tight.
Cooper raises his head slightly, admiring the full view—me, underneath him, looking glazed and vulnerable.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs in my ear. “Don’t let go.”
I nod, unable to form words, his warm breath spreading heat throughout my body. He licks the shell of my ear, and then his tongue travels down my neck, making its way to my taut nipple. He sucks hard, then bites, his teeth not releasing me until I whimper. Then he lavishes sweet kisses on the swollen buds he just assaulted, making them more than better.
He spends time worshiping my body, the length of him frequently rubbing up against me, teasing me mercilessly. Even after two energy-draining orgasms, he’s able to work me back into a frenzy. Eventually I can’t take it anymore and I reach down, desperate to feel his thick, hard erection.
“Back on the headboard,” he growls, stopping me before I’m able to touch.
“But I want—”
“Don’t let go again,” he warns, cutting me off and ignoring my plea.
Seriously? I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of him. Every ridge of his ridiculously toned body is calling my name. His cock taunting me the loudest.
“I don’t think I can.”
My honesty is rewarded with a wicked grin. His already massive ego just shot up another stratosphere. One hand deftly rolls on a condom. Knowing my eyes are fixed on the way his fingers curl around his thickness, his hand lingers, stroking himself up and down leisurely. “Tell me what you need. I’ll give it to you.”
“I want to touch you.”
“What do you want to touch, Kate?”
I’m laying spread-eagled beneath this man, yet I feel bashful saying the words. “You know.” My face flushes.
“Why, Kate.” His mouth is back at my ear, his hand working my breasts, kneading my sensitive nipple. Every tweak sends pleasure shooting through my nerves. I even feel it down in my toes. “Does my sharp-tongued woman not like to say naughty words?”
“You’re trying to torture me.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“You.” I buck underneath him.
“Say it. Say what you want. What you were reaching for.”
He surprises me by pushing two fingers back inside me. My body clenches down, tightening around them. “Is this what you want? You want my fingers inside of you?” He strokes in and out, rubbing me close, but it doesn’t satisfy the need I have. I need more.
I shake my head.
“Then tell me,” he croons, his fingers pumping in and out faster.
“Please,” I moan.
“Please what?” He sucks on the sensitive flesh beneath my ear.
“You know,” I groan, breathless from his expert touch.
“Say it.” His strained, throaty voice quivers at my ear. I’d pretty much say or do anything to get him to give me what I need.
“Your cock. Please. I want your cock inside of me.”
A flash of virile male satisfaction crosses his face, but a shadow shudders over the ego, turning to a possessive darkness. His jaw clenches tight and he takes one of my hands white-knuckling the headboard above me and brings it to his mouth. Gently, he kisses my hand, then replaces it on the headboard to grab hold.
I gasp loudly when he rams deep inside of me, giving me what I desperately need. “Oh, god,” I pant, my body convulsing at the rock-hard intrusion. He’s so thick, it’s almost a struggle to accommodate his girth. If I wasn’t primed sodden, taking him in so deep might fall on the other side of the slim wall that separates pain and pleasure.
He lets my body adjust and then begins to move. Stroking places inside of me to find ecstasy like he’s been doing it forever instead of it being just our first time. It doesn’t take long for him to lure the orgasm from my hungry body. But after he does, he groans and his thrusts intensify to a deliciously ravenous pounding that my body longed to feel.
Sometime in the aftermath of our escapades, in between kisses that feel like so much more than just kisses, I realize why I feel such a remarkable sense of relief. It wasn’t the hours of foreplay building to a crescendo. I’d been waiting for this moment since the first time I met him.
***
I wake to the distant sound of Cooper’s voice coming from the other room. He’s on the phone, so I only hear one side of the conversation. But it makes me smile nonetheless. He’s barking orders at someone; his voice, full of authority, leaves no question as to who’s the boss. There was certainly no question last night either. Without a doubt, the man takes charge, there’s no mistaking he’s an alpha male. Yet there’s something different in him. Something other bossy men are missing that makes the world of difference. Cooper may seem like he takes control away from me, but he’d never take it unless I was giving it to him. I never realized letting someone else take the lead could be so empowering and yet freeing at the same time.
I pick the dress shirt he was wearing yesterday up from the floor, button it enough to cover me, and go searching for the voice.
“He can have until five tonight to decide. After that we’re moving on and going with our second choice.” Cooper is wearing lounge pants and no shirt, his back to me, but he turns, sensing me, even though I make no sound with my bare feet. His eyes sweep over me, taking their time as they crawl up my bare legs and linger finding the hint of breast peeking out of the scarcely closed shirt. I only fastened one button up from the navel. He crooks a finger at me with a grin. I roll my eyes dramatically, but walk to him anyway, quite enjoying the
way he watches my every step intently.
“Just let me know by five.” He hangs up the phone without even saying goodbye and tosses it on the granite.
“I like your shirt.” He wraps me in his arms.
“Thanks. Coffee?”
“Already made.” He kisses my forehead and leads me to the island to sit while he fixes me a steaming mug.
“Sleep well?” Leaning casually against the kitchen counter, he eyes me over his mug.
“Like a baby. I was really out.”
“I know. I’ve been up for two hours.”
“What time is it?”
“Eight.”
“You sleep well?”
“Best night of sleep I’ve had in years.” He smiles. It’s a genuine smile, it makes him look so young.
“Working so early on a Saturday?” I sip my coffee.
“Had a few loose ends to tie up. Wanted to get them done before you woke. What time do you turn into a pumpkin?”
My smile fades. “I have to be on set at three.”
“Finish your coffee.” He drains his mug and walks closer. “You sore?”
“Not really.” A little achy, but I keep that part to myself.
“Let’s go fix that. I want you to feel me for six weeks.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Cooper
The morning after a sleepover, I’m usually ready for a woman to leave. I’m not rude or brash about it, but I’ll admit weekday sleepovers are more my thing. No leisure time the next day to spend making post-coital nice. It’s not that I don’t like a woman’s company outside of the bedroom, I do, although I generally prefer that time to be before sex, rather than after.
“Lunch should be here any minute,” I say as Kate comes from the bathroom. Wet hair and a makeup-free face; she grows more beautiful each time I look at her. I glance at the clock again, dreading the minutes ticking by so fast. Why is it that the first woman I want to spend the entire weekend with doing nothing is also the one running on a meter set to expire way too soon?
“Great.” She looks at her watch and back to me. Her face shows as much dread over the ticking away of the moments as I feel.
“I’ll drop you back at your car after lunch.”
She bites her lip. “Would you mind dropping me home? I need to get my bag.”
“Bag?”
“We’re sequestered at the house for a few nights.”
I fail miserably at letting her words roll off of me. My face hardens, jaw clenches down and I open and close my fists.
“Sorry,” she offers apologetically. And it looks like she means it. Oddly, the anger doesn’t make me want to walk away from her. Instead, I get the feral urge to fuck her long and hard again. I’m not oblivious. I do realize it’s most likely the primal urge to mark my territory in the most glaring way I know how. But that doesn’t make the urge any less real.
The intercom buzzes, saving me from myself. I walk to the door and press the button. Lou’s voice booms through the loud speaker.
“You have a guest, Mr. Montgomery.”
“I ordered lunch, you can send him up. Thanks, Lou.”
“Ummm … it’s not lunch. Well, not unless Ms. Laroix has it hidden in her bag.”
Shit. The woman just refuses to take a hint. I glance back at Kate. She lifts her eyebrows, but says nothing.
“Can you please tell her she needs to call the office and get on my schedule?”
“Okay. But she doesn’t like when I send her away.”
That doesn’t seem to stop her though. “Just do it, Lou.” I release the intercom button with a huff.
“I can grab a cab if you have business to discuss,” Kate says with a bit of suspicion in her tone.
“I don’t have any business to discuss with her anymore.”
“Oh,” she says.
“I didn’t mean her visit was personal. I don’t know why she came, I meant.”
Kate tries to shrug it off. “It’s okay. It’s none of my business.”
“We just spent the night together and it’s none of your business why she’s here?” Fuck. I sound defensive.
“I’m sorry. I meant, well … I don’t know what I meant. I guess I meant to say I don’t have any right to question what you’re doing, when I’m heading back to Flynn.”
His name from her lips hurts me, but it comes off more like anger. “I’ll get dressed to drive you back to Flynn.” I slam the door to my bedroom a little too hard.
***
The silence screams loudly on the ride back to her apartment. I have plenty of things I’d like to say, but what’s the point. Last night was what it was. One night. Six weeks is a long time and who knows where either of us will be then. I should be fine with a night of just sex. Hell, I probably needed one.
“Listen.” We both start speaking at the same time as I pull into a parking spot at her building. “You go first,” I offer.
“I was just going to apologize.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t know what else to say. If things were different …”
“It’s okay.
She leans forward and kisses my cheek softly. “I had a great time last night.”
“Me too. Hope you don’t mind if I don’t wish you luck on your show.”
She smiles. I walk around the car and open the door, offering my hand to let her go, even though I want nothing but. I pull her close and hold her tight, neither of us saying a word.
“Can you be the one to let go of me? Please. I can’t seem to do it.” The strain in her voice is real. As much as I don’t want to let her walk away, the urge to make it easier on her wins out. I kiss the top of her head and release her.
Not quite ready to let her disappear, I watch her walk away until she’s out of sight. An irrational part of me wants to chase after her. Give her the money she needs, even though I have no idea why she needs it so badly.
Patience wearing thin, I call Damian Fry on the way home and bark at him—he has twenty-four hours to get the report I requested on my desk.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kate
I shift on the couch, leaning my weight to the right side, and inwardly smile thinking of Cooper. This isn’t giving in. This is staking my claim. I’ll send you back to him tomorrow if that’s what you want. But you won’t be able to sit without thinking of me for a week. Every time you sit down, you’ll be reminded of what it feels like with me buried deep inside you. Goosebumps break out on my arms just thinking about the words he said.
It’s been two days. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d make me think of him when I sat down for a week. My body aches, but it’s a good ache, unlike the ache in my chest that keeps me perpetually glum.
“What gives?” Ava asks, plopping herself down next to me. I’m not sure I would still be here if it wasn’t for her. With the selection of the final four looming in less than a week, things have turned from unfriendly to downright vicious. One of the girls actually slammed a shoulder into me this afternoon as I was coming out of the bathroom. She feigned it was an accident, but the glimpse of an evil smile on her face when I fell on my ass assured me it was absolutely intentional.
“Nothing. I’m just tired. Think I might be coming down with something.”
“Well, you look more like someone killed your dog.”
“Thanks. That’s attractive.”
“No problem. Anytime.” She grins.
“At least Flynn won’t have to look at you in the black box.”
“Who thinks of these challenges anyway?” Tonight’s challenge is a test of how in tune Flynn is with the contestants. In a little while, he’ll be alone, seated on a chair, in an empty pitch-black room. Each contestant takes a turn at going in to visit with him for five minutes. No talking or sound of any kind is permitted by the contestant. He must identify them without hearing them. Touching, of course, is permitted. Any contestant who makes even the slightest noise is disqualified. The woman Flynn is able to identify in the
least amount of time gets tomorrow’s one-on-one date with him. I’m guessing Miles had a hand in conjuring up this challenge.
“How long do you think it takes for Jessica to make him feel her up?” Ava asks.
“Eighteen seconds.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Eighteen seconds? That’s pretty specific.”
“I’m good at these things.” I shrug. “Bet you?”
“I think you have a gambling problem.” Ava smiles.
“Chicken?”
“What are we betting?”
“You have to wear my Chargers t-shirt.”
“That’s cruel. You better not stretch out my Raiders t-shirt if you lose.”
I look down at her boobs and smirk. “Your t-shirt is the only one I could possibly stretch out in this house of breast friends.”
***
We all gather in the viewing room to watch as the first contestant makes her way into the black box. The camera has infrared viewing, which makes Flynn’s pale blue eyes look more like a jaguar’s hunting its prey in the dead of night. He holds a small square box with buttons that will electronically record which woman he thinks is in the room, as well as the time it takes him to formulate his guess.
Mercedes, the first contestant, closes the door behind her. Crap, I never thought of props. She’s wearing a naughty nurse costume. Her ass cheeks peek out from beneath the white one-piece zip-front uniform, a stethoscope around her neck and a pill-box nursing hat sitting atop a fully teased head of sexy hair.
Hearing the door click shut, Flynn’s head turns in the direction of the sound. “I’m over here,” he says. Mercedes struts in his direction, the clack of her five-inch heels echoing on the tile floor. She stops a few feet from him, unsure of where to go.
Flynn begins to hum softly, the sound of his voice her guiding light in the darkness. She continues toward him slowly until her legs bump into his knees and then he stands. A few minutes pass while we all gawk at the screen, riveted as he touches her. He bends and starts at the bottom. Leisurely running his hands from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Somehow he avoids being too obscene, skipping over the front of her shirt and swell of her ass in favor of gliding down the curve of her side. The way he moves his hands is incredibly seductive. The breath of a few of the girls watching hitches in unison with Mercedes as he caresses her while humming a sexy rhythm. Eventually, before time is up, he stops and pushes a button. The door opens again and Mercedes is escorted from the dark room.
