Risking It All

by Jennifer Schmidt

  “Memphis,” she said in a whimper, trying to draw her hips away from his mouth when he continued to lick her oversensitive flesh.

  Her hands fell away from his hair, dropping to her stomach. He groaned, stopping his tongue’s assault on her just long enough to pull away and unsnap his jeans, pushing them out of the way.

  “Turn over,” he demanded.

  He grabbed her hips, helping her flip over onto her stomach and pulled her back until she was on her knees. Kennedy groaned as he dragged his cock through her flesh, coating the head with her wetness. She wiggled her ass against him, silently begging for what she wanted. When he continued to tease her, she knew silence was going to get her nowhere.

  “Memphis?” She looked over her shoulder at him, giving him a look that she hoped was as seductive as the words she was about to say. “Don’t hold back. And don’t worry about hurting me.”

  Memphis’s jaw tightened, and he held her gaze as he thrust into her hard. Kennedy cried, closing her eyes and dropping her head as he drove himself as deep into her as he could go.

  “Oh, God, yes!” She pushed back on him even more.

  Memphis groaned, pulling all the way out and thrusting his hips forward again. She was tight but so wet that he slipped inside her with no resistance, yet still gripped his dick like a fist. He grunted as he pounded into her, the sounds exciting Kennedy even more than she already was. She panted beneath him, mumbling words of encouragement and praise of how good he felt. He ran his hand up her back to her hair, swirling the curls around his hand and giving a firm tug.

  Kennedy gasped as he pulled her head back, loving his forcefulness. His other hand moved over her stomach and up to her chest. He pressed his hand between her breasts, pushing against her chest so she’d rise up.

  Kennedy pushed off her hands so she was kneeling in front of him, her back pressed firmly against his chest. Memphis squeezed her breast, kneading her flesh as he continued to pump his hips against her ass, grinding into her harder and faster.

  Kennedy dropped her head onto his shoulder and kissed from the side of his neck to his ear. She teased the lobe with her tongue before sucking it into her mouth and sinking her teeth into the fleshy skin.

  “Fuck!” Memphis hissed, breaking the silence he had fallen into.

  He released her hair and slipped his hand between her legs, finding her clit and rubbing it in fast, hard circles.

  “Memphis,” she breathed into his ear.

  He shifted his hips at the same time he pinched her clit, and she felt that familiar feeling start to build in the pit of her stomach. His mouth was on her neck, and his teeth found her skin just as she tightened around his cock and tumbled over the edge.

  Memphis pushed her back onto all fours and grabbed her hips, pounding into her to find his own release. He groaned as he buried himself inside her and let go. He remained still for a moment, pulsing inside her, before falling against her back and pulling her down so they were both lying on their sides.

  Kennedy rested her head on his bicep and closed her eyes, a content and satisfied smile on her lips.

  This is what she wanted. This is what had been missing from all her years of sexual encounters: a man who took what he wanted, a man who gave her pleasure by causing her a little bit of pain, a man who didn’t hold back or worry that he was hurting her because he knew what she could take without her having to tell him.

  And all along that man had been right in front of her.

  Chapter 12

  Memphis stood beside her at the buffet table and grinned as she loaded her plate.

  “That’s a lot more than your usual meager bagel,” he said. “Worked up an appetite, did you?”

  Kennedy smirked and dropped a spoonful of greens onto his plate.

  “In that case, you should eat the entire platter,” she said, before turning and walking to their corner table.

  She watched as he looked at the salad, glanced at the people around him—no doubt debating if he could get away with sliding it off his plate and back into the serving dish—and sighed in defeat as he continued to fill his plate.

  Yes, they had definitely worked up an appetite. After they had caught their breath and finally got up off the floor, she had jumped in the shower for a quick wash so they could grab some breakfast. Her plans were quickly forgotten when Memphis slipped inside with her and showed her how thoroughly he could wash her.

  They hadn’t made it to breakfast.

  They probably wouldn’t have made it to lunch, either, if Kennedy’s grumbling stomach hadn’t insisted on being fed.

  Memphis pulled the chair out and dropped to his seat across from her. Kennedy rolled her eyes when he wasted no time sliding the salad onto her plate.

  “It wouldn’t kill you to eat lettuce, you know.”

  “Chick food isn’t going to give me the energy I need.” He leaned over the table, lowered his voice, and said, “And you seem to like what my energy does to you.”

  Kennedy shook her head even as the smile tugged on her lips.

  “You’re full of yourself.”

  “No, you were full of me.”

  She picked up her glass, ignoring his comment when she couldn’t think of a quick enough comeback.

  “Are you blushing, Kennedy?” He grinned like a fool.

  “No.”

  He chuckled as he took a bite of his huge sandwich. Kennedy kept her eyes down, moving a cherry tomato around on her plate, feeling his eyes never leave her face.

  “What?” she sighed, finally looking up at him.

  “Nothing.” He grinned.

  She huffed and popped the cherry tomato into her mouth, looking around the room at the other diners.

  “Are you up for a little trip to the hot springs?”

  Kennedy stopped chewing and glanced at him. She figured he’d wink and wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but all the playfulness was gone from his face. She frowned at his sudden change of demeanor.

  “Sure.”

  They finished the rest of their meal in mostly silence, Memphis lost in whatever thought had changed his mood so quickly and Kennedy wondering what the hell it was.

  “Memphis.” Bradley stopped by their table and greeted him with a nod. He shot Kennedy a smile in acknowledgment before turning back to Memphis. “You missed our meeting this morning.”

  “Yeah. I got distracted by other adventures,” he replied.

  Adventures?

  Kennedy barely contained the snort that wanted to escape.

  “Ah.” Bradley raised his eyebrows, looking at her and back to Memphis. “I see.”

  “Can we reschedule for later? Or tomorrow? Kennedy and I were about to head out to the springs.”

  “No problem. Don’t wander away too far today, though,” Bradley warned. “There’s a storm in the forecast.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Kennedy tried not to shudder as he flashed her another smile and left the table.

  “There’s something about him that gives me the creeps,” she said as she gathered her scarf and mittens from the table.

  “Because Alec made him out to be a bad guy,” Memphis grumbled under his breath.

  Kennedy ignored him, as well as the impulse to stick her tongue out at him, and wrapped the scarf around her neck as she followed him from the dining room and outside.

  She glanced up at the sky, looking for any sign of the impending storm Bradley mentioned. But the skies were clear, and it felt much warmer than it had the past few days they had been there.

  “Do you think it’s going to storm?” she called to Memphis, who was a couple of steps ahead of her.

  “I guess we’ll find out sooner or later,” he answered, not bothering to turn around and acknowledge her.

  Kennedy glared at his back and scooped up a handful of snow, formed a messy ball, and chucked it at the back of his head. She smirked when it landed directly on its target, splattering against the back of his neck.

  Memphis stoppe
d and slowly turned around, narrowing his eyes at her.

  “What was that?”

  She looked up at the sky as if inspecting it for falling snowballs and then back at him.

  “Don’t know. Maybe it was the beginning of the storm.”

  “Oh, it was the beginning of a storm, all right.”

  Kennedy barely had time to duck before a snowball was sailing toward her. She twisted her body so it missed her face and hit her in the back of the shoulder.

  “Prepare to go down, Memphis!” she yelled as she grabbed another handful of snow.

  “Always am, beautiful. All you gotta do is ask!” Memphis laughed as he threw another ball at her, hitting her in the chest.

  Kennedy closed her eyes and screamed as bits of snow hit her face. Not bothering to flick the snow off, she quickly launched her snowball at him in return.

  “That’s not what I meant, jackass!”

  He laughed again as he stalked toward her, armed with snow. Kennedy backed up, hands empty. She glanced at the ground, debating how fast she could scoop and dash without getting hit.

  “I’m unarmed, Memphis,” she said, taking another step back as he took one forward.

  “You’re the one who started this fight, Kennedy,” he reminded her.

  He raised his arm, and she squealed as she turned and ran. The ball clipped her leg, and she took a second to bend and grab a handful of snow. The second ball hit her in the side of the neck, the scarf blocking a direct hit on her skin.

  She had just turned and was about to throw one back at him when he tackled her around the waist and brought her down.

  “Memphis!” she screamed as she prepared to hit the ground, but he turned his body at the last second so she landed on him instead.

  As soon as they were down, he flipped her over so she was under him, and grinned down at her.

  “Seems this is the second time today I’ve held you captive,” he said.

  Kennedy stared up at him as snow began to fall around them, and her heartstrings tugged so hard there was a pain in her chest.

  “Maybe I just like being manhandled by you,” she said, her voice a little hoarse.

  Memphis chuckled, and he traced her cheek with his gloved finger.

  “Guess you can check snowball fight off your list, huh?” he said. “Anything else you wanted to do?”

  “I’ve never been kissed in the snow,” she answered coyly.

  Memphis smirked.

  “Are you asking me to kiss you?”

  “I’m just telling you what else I haven’t done.”

  “Well, if that’s all . . .” He made a move to get up, and Kennedy grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back down. The cold was starting to send chills through her body, but she was willing to shiver as long as he didn’t move yet.

  “Kiss me.”

  Memphis’s lips slowly turned down into a frown as he studied her face, his eyes falling on her lips.

  “The last time you asked me to kiss you, you were drunk.”

  “I wasn’t drunk,” Kennedy said. “But as you can see, I’m completely sober now.”

  “You also asked me for reasons other than wanting to really kiss me,” he added.

  “I explained that. I lied. You know it was all about you. What’s the big deal now anyway, Memphis? We’ve kissed since.”

  He traced his finger back and forth over her chin, hesitating a minute before answering.

  “That was in a moment of passion. This isn’t about sex right now.”

  Kennedy flinched, pulling her chin away from him.

  “So you’re saying you only want to kiss me when you can get into my pants?”

  “No.” Memphis’s frown deepened, and he shook his head. “Why would you think that?”

  “You’re right. The only time we have kissed, other than the time I asked you, is when we’re tearing each other’s clothes off. You’ve never even tried to kiss me otherwise. Ever.”

  “That’s not true. I seem to recall trying to kiss you at the lake and you stopped me.”

  “Fine,” Kennedy said through clenched teeth, not only pissed that he was missing the point but also because he was right. “Aside from that time, you’ve never tried to kiss me unless you were about to get laid.”

  Memphis pulled back and gaped at her.

  “Where the hell is this coming from, Kennedy? Until now we’ve always had a platonic relationship, remember? Why would I kiss you?”

  “Right. Why would you kiss me?” Kennedy pushed at his chest so he’d move so she could get up. “It’s not like you ever wanted me. The only reason this whole thing started is because you were jealous of some guy in a gallery!”

  Kennedy pushed against his chest again, but he didn’t budge.

  “Is that what you think?” Memphis grabbed her hands and pressed them against his chest so she’d stop pushing at him. “Is that what you really think?”

  Something in his voice made Kennedy still. She searched his face, her eyes raking over every part of it, not knowing what to say.

  Is that what she really thought?

  Yes. Maybe. Hell, she didn’t even know. What else was she supposed to think? It wasn’t like he’d given her any indication before that he wanted something more than friendship. Alec showed up and suddenly he was Mr. Possessive. It had to be about jealousy, right?

  But if it was, then why wasn’t he jealous of Brooks? Did he see that there was nothing there anymore; therefore he didn’t see Brooks as a threat?

  “What am I supposed to think?” she whispered.

  “How about that I’m with you now because I want to be and that it has nothing to do with anyone else?”

  “It has nothing to do with Alec?”

  Memphis sighed, clearly frustrated with how the conversation was going.

  “Yes, I hated that he was coming on to you, okay? But no, I wouldn’t risk ruining our friendship over some guy flirting with you.”

  “Why now?”

  “I don’t know. Because it feels right?”

  Kennedy swallowed.

  “Does this have anything to do with Brooks?”

  “You talk too much, Kennedy,” he said before pressing his lips to hers.

  Alec, Brooks, everything disappeared once his mouth captured hers. Nothing else mattered.

  Memphis released her hands, and she wrapped them around his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue probed her lips, seeking entrance. Kennedy opened her mouth, meeting his tongue with hers with slow, wet strokes.

  Eventually he pulled away, nipping at her bottom lip and sucking on it before breaking contact with her mouth. He brushed the snowflakes from her cheek as they fell on her face, and gave her a small smile.

  “Maybe we should go inside before we end up buried in this snowstorm that’s supposed to happen.”

  “What about the springs?”

  “They’ll still be there later.”

  He pushed to his feet and held out his hand for her, pulling her out of the snow with a gentle tug. Kennedy tried brushing the wetness from her bottom, but the snow had leaked through and dampened her jeans.

  Memphis wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side as he led her back to the cabin.

  “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia on me,” he said, winking at her.

  “Are you volunteering yourself to help get me out of my clothes?”

  Memphis unlocked the cabin and turned to her with a grin that made her heart stop and her stomach flip.

  “If you insist,” he told her, swatting her ass as she passed him.

  “I think I can manage to get out of my clothes alone, thank you,” she replied, tossing the tuque on the couch and unwrapping the scarf from around her neck.

  Memphis wrapped his arms around her from behind and pressed his face against her neck, murmuring, “But it’s so much more fun when I help you get out of them.”

  Kennedy laughed and shrugged out of his embrace.

  “
I’m going to go change. Why don’t you figure out what we’re going to do if we’re going to be stuck inside because of this storm?”

  He pulled her back into his arms and nuzzled her neck.

  “I already know what I want to do.” His mouth played with her ear, and he whispered, “And it’s not what you think it is.”

  Kennedy snorted.

  “What would it be then?”

  “Come with me to the bedroom and I’ll show you.”

  “That sounds like exactly what I was thinking,” she said

  He smirked at her and took her hand.

  “Come.”

  She let him lead her to the bedroom and stood in the doorway watching him as he opened his camera bag and took out his camera.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, instinctively taking a step back.

  He turned to her and a smile slowly spread across his face.

  “I want to photograph you, Kennedy,” he said.

  She looked at the camera, to him, and then back down at the camera.

  “You mean . . .” She shook her head. “No. No way.”

  “They’ll be tasteful,” he promised. “They don’t have to be nude, although I can do nude very tastefully, too, just so you know.” He winked and continued, “And we’ll be the only ones who will ever see them. I promise. I’ll even give you all the pictures if you don’t trust me to have them.”

  Kennedy frowned.

  “You know I trust you more than anyone, Memphis.”

  “Then do this with me. Please?”

  Kennedy shook her head again.

  “I can’t . . . I’m not . . . I’ve never . . .” she rambled as a hundred thoughts ran through her mind, making it hard to concentrate on getting a complete sentence out.

  “Hey.” Memphis put the camera on the bed and moved to stand in front of her. He cupped her face and forced her to look at him. “It’s just me taking your picture, Kennedy. Nothing more. We’ll only go as far as you want to go and no further. Okay?”

  “Why?” she whispered. “Why do you want to do this?”

  “Blame it on my profession. When I see something beautiful, I need to take pictures of it.” The playfulness in his voice did nothing to calm her nerves. He flicked a curl out of her eyes, and he grew serious. “I want to capture this moment, Kennedy. I want to have something to remember our time here together—where it was just us and nothing or no one else in the world mattered. No matter what happens after,” he said, sounding sad.