Summer Solstice

by Eden Bradley

  Maybe she’d better leave before she did something foolish. Not that casual sex was an issue for her. She loved men, loved sex and saw no harm in two adults sharing an evening of sensual pleasure. But he was her neighbor, and she should think before getting involved with him. Despite this insane attraction to him. Or maybe because of it.

  She set her bottle down on the coffee table and stood. “I’d better go. I should get an early start in the morning.”

  He rose, towering over her. “Thanks for the company. And the bottle opener. Mind if I hang on to it until tomorrow?”

  “No, not at all.” It meant she would see him again soon. “Thanks for the Guinness. Good night.”

  He held the door open for her as she left, and she couldn’t help but draw his male scent into her lungs once more as she moved past him. She crossed the quiet street, climbed onto her own porch and let herself into the house, shutting the front door behind her.

  What was it about the way that man smelled? And the way he looked, those dark eyes, the heavy muscles. And that accent… Every cell in her body responded to him on some primal level. If the summer heat hadn’t had her temperature soaring, Jared certainly did. Her whole body was slick with a thin sheen of perspiration. She was even slicker between her thighs.

  Impatiently, Leigh kicked off her sandals and pulled her dress over her head as she moved down the hall to the bathroom, her bare feet padding on the hardwood floor. She reached into the vintage-tiled shower and turned the cold tap all the way up, adding just enough warm water to make it bearable. She whisked the scrap of white lace panties down over her legs and stepped in.

  Her breath caught when the first shock of water hit her skin, but after a moment her body calmed beneath the cool spray. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of the silky water on her skin, the contrast to the still-hot evening air.

  But soon an image of Jared invaded the quiet moment. His midnight eyes, his too-sexy mouth, that huge, muscled body. And his scent. She could almost smell him now if she tried. Despite the cold water coursing over her skin, she went warm all over, the heat thickening in a melting pool between her thighs. Her hand lowered to ease the ache there.

  She leaned against the green tiles, her head falling back as her fingers slipped between the slick folds. She probed gently at the opening, pressed a finger, then two, just inside, pleasure shafting through her.

  Teasing herself, she skimmed her fingertips over her outer lips, sliding in for a moment, then out again, refusing to touch her already swollen and pulsing clit.

  Jared.

  What would that lush mouth feel like on hers? On her skin? On her breasts? Her hard and needy clit?

  “Oh…”

  She turned into the needle-sharp spray of water, and it stung her hardened nipples. She lifted her other hand to caress her breast, taunting the nipple, grazing and pinching. Her legs quaked as she pictured Jared’s mouth on her, sucking her nipple between his lips, then moving lower, between her thighs. She could imagine how hot and wet his tongue would be, imagined it was there instead of her fingers, teasing her clit now with light caresses.

  Jared.

  She stroked her clit harder, faster. Wishing it was his hands on her, his beautiful mouth. He would lick her slit in long, wet strokes, take her clitoris between his teeth and tug…

  “Oh…”

  She liked a hint of pain, that just-too-hard nibble on her clit, her nipples, her neck. Especially with the right man. Someone who really turned her on.

  Jared…

  She pumped her fingers into her pussy, in and out, grinding onto her clit with the heel of her hand, making it hurt a little. When she grasped her nipple between her fingers and pinched, hard, she exploded in orgasm. The shock of pleasure jolted through her as the water sluiced over her shuddering body.

  She gasped, hanging onto the showerhead with one hand, her legs threatening to go out from under her.

  If only a man could make her come like that.

  Her pulse fluttered, then calmed as she pulled in a few deep breaths, leaning against the cool tiles, letting the water wash over her, wash her juices from her hand.

  She always came with a man. That wasn’t a problem. But she’d never come as hard with a man as she did using her own hands, her vibrator. She wondered if Jared could be the first. The first time a lover would make her shiver, cry out, explode. Wondered if he was half as good with his hands and his mouth as he was in her imagination.

  Her own hands skimmed over her breasts, the nipples engorged and tingling. Her body came to life once more, heat blooming in her still-throbbing pussy. She groaned and pressed her hand between her thighs, her fingers caressing her clit. She had better find out soon, or she was going to spend the rest of her life in the shower.

  Chapter Two

  Jared was staring out the front window of his new house. Watching Leigh’s house, the halo of light shining on her small front porch. The dim glow from behind her closed curtains. He was hard as a rock. He had been since the first moment he’d seen her up close, after he’d knocked on her door.

  Something about this woman…

  It was more than her endless legs, the exotic tilt to her green eyes. He liked her easy smile. It was honest, real. Sexy. She was smart. He could tell already, and that was sexy as hell too. And he liked the athletic tightness of her long, lean body, her small, high breasts. The classic California girl, as he’d told her. The classic dream girl, for him.

  He hadn’t been with a woman in a while. Women were so different from men. So much softer. He loved the plush feel of a breast in his hand, the silk of female skin beneath his lips. Leigh had gorgeous, sleek skin, with a few freckles that made her look almost innocent. Except it was obvious she wasn’t.

  He turned and settled down on the couch once more, picking up his ale and taking a long swallow as he swung his feet up onto the coffee table.

  Her nipples had gone hard beneath the cotton of her dress as she’d sat next to him on this very sofa. He couldn’t help but notice. And he’d wanted her, had let her know it. But she’d left.

  Maybe he’d pushed too hard. He was usually a bit smoother than that. But he’d felt as driven by his hormones as a teenager.

  Not that he’d expected her to sleep with him tonight, a virtual stranger. But he’d wanted it. He could think of nothing but seeing her naked, sinking into her sweet flesh, fucking her…

  He groaned, pulled a pillow over his lap.

  Calm the hell down.

  The small weight of the pillow on his crotch made him want to arch his hips up into it, to press against it until the rhythm soothed the ache in his cock.

  The hell with that.

  He tossed the pillow aside and stood, stalked upstairs and into his bedroom, where the shuttered windows offered more privacy than the living room.

  There were boxes everywhere, but he ignored them as he crossed the room, tearing his T-shirt over his head, kicked his way out of his shorts, heading for his bed. Catching his reflection, he stopped before a tall, wood-framed mirror leaning against one wall.

  His erection was like some angry muscle, rigid, the head swollen and purple.

  “There’s nothing for you tonight,” he told it, giving it a small slap.

  His cock leapt, hardening even more.

  “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

  His fingers brushed the swollen tip, and his body clenched.

  She was beautiful, this woman. Sensual. He swore he could feel desire radiating off her, that it was more than his own need for her. He swore he could smell it on her. Dark and earthy and sweet. Or maybe that was just her.

  “Fuck,” he said again, taking his cock in his fist and pumping into it. “Ah…”

  He watched himself in the mirror, watched the flex and pull of his body as he arched into his hand, pictured Leigh kneeling on the floor before him, her long, blonde hair falling over her naked back, brushing his thighs as she took his cock into her lovely mouth. Oh yes, her mouth w
as one of the hottest things about her, those full, pink lips. Babymouth, in that beautiful face that was all high, lean angles.

  “Christ.”

  He gripped his shaft harder, thrust again.

  Her mouth would be hot and wet, enveloping him, her tongue teasing. He would ask her to suck, and she would, swallowing him…

  “Ah…”

  He squeezed his cock, pleasure shuddering through him, his body tensing, shivering as he came in a torrent of heat and need pooling in his palm. He pulled in a deep breath, leaning over, using his free hand to brace himself against the cool glass of the mirror.

  Why did he feel unsated, moments after he’d come?

  Have to have her.

  He knew then he might never feel satisfied until he did. No matter how many times he got himself off. If he slept with someone else. It would only be Leigh he wanted.

  He must be losing his mind. He’d just met the woman. This was insane.

  He grabbed his discarded T-shirt from the floor and wiped himself, then tossed it into the laundry basket sitting on the floor of the closet.

  He didn’t think he’d ever felt chemistry like this with anyone, male or female. Maybe not even Matteo. Never needed anyone so badly it hurt.

  Maybe he was losing it. Losing it over her.

  Those long, long legs, the curve of her cheekbones, for God’s sake. Driving him mad. Making his cock twitch, begin to harden again already.

  He didn’t want to think about why. He just needed to do it again, to come, thinking of her. And ultimately, he had to have her.

  It wasn’t often he was denied a woman he wanted. He wasn’t being egotistical. That was simply how his life had gone. He wasn’t used to it. But being denied the satisfaction made her all the more desirable, if that was even possible.

  His cock pulsed, filling once more. He ran his fingers along the shaft, watched it grow, lengthen at his touch. How much better would it be if it were her hands on him? He would have to find out.

  Oh yes, he’d have to.

  Leigh spent the early part of Sunday working on some sketches at the drafting table in her bedroom, but it soon became unbearably warm. She wandered into the tiny kitchen, moving listlessly as she pulled the big plastic pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator and poured it over ice. It was too hot to stay in the house. Probably too hot to go outside. She went out anyway, hoping for a small breeze in the shade of her front porch. Maybe hoping for a glimpse of Jared. He’d been out of town for a week, his car gone, the house quiet. She hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Hadn’t stopped getting herself off to an image of him in her head every night in her lonely bed, her sheets damp with sweat and desire.

  She squeezed her thighs together, then pushed through the screen door and stepped out onto the front porch.

  The glare of the mid-day sun made her wish for her sunglasses, but the heat made her too lazy to go back inside to find them. Squinting, she spotted Jared across the street with a bucket sloshing soapsuds in one hand and a long length of green garden hose in the other. He set the bucket on the ground, then turned on the hose and aimed it at his black SUV.

  She almost called out a greeting, but something compelled her to watch in silence as he washed his car. He was dressed in khaki cargo shorts and a black tank. His feet were bare. Why did they look so naked, so vulnerable?

  Leigh watched as he moved around the car, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing with every motion. He soaked a sponge in the soapy water then wrung it out, the suds spilling over the backs of his big hands in bubbling rivulets. It made her think of the shattering orgasm she’d had in the shower the night before, with the cool water running down her body, and desire stabbed through her once more.

  Cold water had been her only relief from the summer heat lately, but her body craved something more. She bit her lip and shifted in her seat, squeezing her thighs together, her eyes still on Jared.

  Almost as though he’d felt that same spearing heat, he looked up, turned and saw her. He smiled crookedly and waved. Leigh rose to her feet and waved back, her pulse fluttering and her sex throbbing.

  “Hey, care to help me wash my car?” he called to her.

  “Maybe.”

  “Come on. It’s too hot out here to do anything else.”

  She could think of something else. She smiled, stepped off the porch and crossed the street.

  “Do you have an extra sponge?”

  He handed her the one in his hand, his fingers brushing hers, soapy and wet. “Only this one. You can wash. I’ll rinse.”

  “Oh, lazy, are you?”

  He shrugged, his wide, tanned shoulders flexing, the sun glinting off the drops of water on his skin as he grinned at her. “You did offer.”

  “So I did.”

  She went to work, running the big sponge over the hot metal of the car. It felt good to work her muscles, to work off some of the lust burning through her body.

  “So, why Santa Monica?” she asked him.

  “I like the weather. The heat. The scent of the ocean. The fog in the morning. It’s moody. It feels like it gives me time to think. I love that quiet early in the morning, you know?”

  “Yes. I like that, too. I like to get up at 6 a.m., when everything is still. Drink my tea. Draw. Or sometimes just sit and look out at the garden.”

  “Do you ever walk on the beach in the morning?”

  “Sometimes. Although I always wish I had a dog to walk with.” She laughed. “I don’t know why.”

  “I’ve often thought of getting a dog, but I travel too much for work.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it lately, too, now that I’m starting my own business and my time will be more flexible.”

  “You’re not one of those girls who wants a tiny, rat-like creature to dress up and stick in your purse, are you?”

  She laughed. “Not me. I much prefer big dogs.”

  And big men, she thought, watching him rinse the car through the spray of water.

  “So, do you like it here, other than the fog?” she asked him, dropping the sponge into the bucket.

  “I like it better now.”

  She turned to find him grinning at her.

  “Are you flirting with me, Jared Townsend?”

  “Most definitely. Do you mind?”

  She paused, watching him for a moment. “No.”

  “Good. Because I intend to keep doing it.”

  He stepped closer until she could smell the sun on his skin, the water evaporating in the heat of the day, and that faint scent of him, pure and masculine.

  Her body went soft and loose all over.

  His gaze was on hers, a small smile tilting the corners of his mouth. “You have soap on you, Leigh.”

  “So do you.”

  “Do I?”

  Still watching her, his dark gaze never leaving her face, he took the hose and let the spray wash over his chest, soaking him. He let the water pool in one big hand, then splashed it over his head, slicking his hair back from his face.

  A small trickle of moisture glided down between her breasts. They ached. And between her thighs heat blossomed like the rays of the summer sun.

  Jared held the hose, the water surging between his fingers. She wanted to feel that cool water almost as much as she wanted to touch him.

  “Are you hot, Leigh?” His voice was low, quiet.

  She nodded.

  He reached out, lifted her hair off her neck and moved the hose so that the water sluiced over her neck and down her back. She closed her eyes and shivered in delight, her whole body instantly cooling, her flesh prickling with goose bumps. Her white tank top and denim cut-offs soon became soaked.

  It felt good—the cold water, the sensation of it on her skin, standing next to this man whose sun-heated skin smelled like pure sex to her. She let her eyes flutter open, and found his were still on her. It made her shiver deep inside—that sense that he could see into her, knew her darkest secrets. And liked what he saw.

 
She reached out and covered his hand, guiding the hose so that the water poured down the front of her body. His eyes widened a bit as her tank top soaked through and became opaque, but they never left her face. She knew her nipples were hard as two small rocks, could feel them straining against the wet, cool fabric. She wanted nothing more than for him to touch them.

  He dropped her hair and it fell in a damp curtain against her neck, but it was nothing compared to the wet heat collecting between her thighs, along with an insistent ache that demanded to be sated. The seam of her denim shorts rubbed teasingly against her full pussy lips as she shifted from one foot to another. She had to do it again. And again, she thought of Jared’s hands there instead.

  He was like a statue, watching her face, his gaze hot with lust. It poured off him like his scent did, danced in the air between them, daring her. Tempting her.

  “I’m all wet.” She managed a smile, even as the words came out in a voice too rough to be her own.

  “Yeah. So am I.”

  She blinked, her body surging.

  Touch me…

  His hand loosened on the hose sprayer, the water shutting off. His voice was rough as he dropped the hose, reached out and brushed his fingertips over her shoulder. “Come inside with me, Leigh.”

  It was a command issued and impossible to disobey. Leigh didn’t mind, maybe even liked it. She didn’t want to think too much about it, didn’t want to think about anything right now. Jared held open the screen and she moved past him into his living room, heard a soft click as he closed it behind him, then the muffled thud of the front door. She took a deep breath as he came to stand behind her, wrapping a heavy arm around her waist, his scent wrapping around her senses. She inhaled, held her breath, held the scent of him inside her. It made her want more of him inside her. Quickly. Now. But she would wait, savor the waiting and each exquisite moment which would inevitably lead to what she craved.

  Jared moved her wet hair aside to kiss the back of her neck, his lips hot, seductive. She shivered, a chill of pleasure running down her spine. He traced his lips over the sensitive skin there, then lower, between her shoulder blades. Strange that he was kissing her neck, her back, even before he’d kissed her lips. But purely erotic. Moving his free hand down her body, over the curve of her hip, it came to rest on the delicate flesh of her inner thigh. When he tucked his fingers beneath the hem of her shorts it was all she could do not to buck her hips forward.