by Eden Bradley
“Jared!”
As her pussy pulsed around his throbbing flesh, he cried out, slamming into her, dragging her orgasm out until she no longer knew who or what she was. All she knew was sensation. Overpowering, heated, throbbing sensation. Time expanded, became nothing. She became nothing. She went limp in his arms.
Chapter Three
After a seemingly endless stretch of time Jared rolled off her and onto his side. He pulled her close, holding her against his body. She heard his heart thundering, knew her own was hammering just as erratically.
With her mind still half-numb, Leigh tried to ignore the thoughts trying to filter in through the post-sex haze. But they were too persistent.
When had any other man been able to make her feel like Jared did? To know her body and its wants and needs without her having to speak? What other man had ever played her body the way he had, lighting her flesh with every stroke, every caress, every kiss?
What man had ever recognized her need to be taken over, dominated, commanded? For Jared it had come naturally. Instinctively. He knew she needed it. Knew everything she needed, as though he could see inside her head.
But no. That was going too far. This was a summer fling. Leigh knew better than to begin thinking about any other sort of connection. He was a superb lover, a true artist in the art of lovemaking. That was all. And she intended to appreciate the experience for what it was. She’d be a fool not to.
When he kissed her hair she suppressed the small lurch in her chest.
Stop it. You’ve just met this man.
“You are a most amazing woman.” His voice was deep, gravelly, soft around the edges.
“And you’re a most amazing man.”
“You inspire me, Leigh. In fact…” He sprang up, startling her.
“How can you even move after that?”
He grinned. “I told you. You inspire me. Be right back.” He stepped through the door, only to poke his head back in a moment later. “Don’t move.”
“I hadn’t planned on it.” Leigh stretched luxuriously, enjoying the ache of muscles long gone unused.
Jared returned, his thick, brown hair gloriously disheveled, his big body graceful, despite the brawny muscles, as he leaned against the doorway. How many men could be so utterly comfortable, standing there naked? She glanced down at his softening cock, her sex clenching again at the memory of it hard, so big she could barely take it. Then her gaze moved up his body, over the strong thighs, the hard-packed abs, the wide chest, until she reached his face. He was smiling at her. His dark brown eyes were glittering again, and he held a camera in his hand.
“Let me photograph you, Leigh.”
She groaned. “I’m a mess.”
“You’re beautiful. Glowing. Have you never been photographed naked before? If not, it’s a shame.”
“I posed for the life drawing class in college a few times. Let an old boyfriend take some lingerie shots. But I was all made up. And what do you plan to do with these pictures?”
“Look at them. Over and over. I would never show them to anyone else without your permission, Leigh. This is just for me. And for you. You should see what you look like right now, with your hair everywhere and your skin flushed. Like a ripe peach.” He grinned, his full mouth sensual, admiring. “One that’s already been plucked. But I love that. I love that it was me who did the plucking.”
How could she resist? Especially when his accent washed so deliciously over her, along with his words. And she was still too sated, too content, to argue.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Just lay there. Or move a bit if you like. Doesn’t matter. But don’t cover yourself. I need to see your gorgeous skin.”
He crouched down and began shooting, the clicking camera looking tiny in his hands.
“Beautiful. Come on now, move onto your side. Yes, perfect.” He paused to bend down and kiss her breasts, making the blood rush into them again, the nipples peak to attention. “Yes, that’s it,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Your skin is fucking flawless.”
As he shot the pictures his cock filled, thickening, until it was lusciously hard again. Leigh’s sex filled and tingled just looking at him, thinking about what it felt like to have him thrusting inside her.
Yes…
“Jared, come back to bed. I need more.”
“Ask nicely.” That devilish grin again.
Instead, Leigh turned onto her back, spread her thighs and used her fingers to stroke her cleft. She was wet again. Or still. It hardly mattered. What mattered was the hunger in his eyes, the way he licked his lips.
“Oh, you are very persuasive, aren’t you?” Jared took another shot and knelt on the edge of the bed. “Do you mind if I take a few of you like this, with your thighs open for me?”
“Go ahead.”
She ran her fingers up and down her wet cleft, spread her thighs farther apart, feeling sexier than she ever had in her life.
“Ah, fucking gorgeous, Leigh,” he muttered, moving in to take a closer shot of her spread pussy. She held the lips open with her fingers, dipped one fingertip into her needy hole.
“Christ, that’s enough,” he growled, setting the camera down on the floor and thrusting his fingers between her open thighs. “God, you’re soaking wet. I love this—that you’re so wet for me. I need to fuck you again.”
“Yes, do it, Jared.”
He lowered himself on top of her, moving his big body in between her legs.
Leigh clamped them around him. “I want it hard and fast this time.”
“Just a good, hard fuck, my girl? You shall have it.” He grabbed another condom from the night table, sheathed himself and just as quickly pushed into her.
She let out a sigh as he filled her. She lay still at first while he began to move, pushing in slowly, pulling out, thrusting harder with each stroke until his thick cock was buried to the hilt inside her. He paused. She shivered with the pleasure of it.
His voice was raw with lust. “Christ, you feel good. Hold on.” His arm went around her waist, and he turned her over as though she were a doll weighing nothing in his hands. He held onto her hip with one hand, using just enough pressure to remind her he was in control. He used his knees to spread her thighs apart. “Down on your elbows, darlin’, but keep your beautiful ass up here. Yes, that’s it.”
Her face was close to the sheets, and she could smell them both on it—sweat and sex and come. She took a deep breath. Behind her, Jared was spreading her pussy lips with his fingers, his cock resting at her opening. She surged back against him.
A small chuckle from him. “You want it, Leigh?”
“Yes, please…come on.”
He thrust, his cock burrowing deep, making her gasp.
Leigh reached behind her, grabbed his muscled thigh, and Jared drove into her, his cock pumping, the tempo building quickly. Her pussy contracted, squeezing him, every exquisite sensation bringing her toward another orgasm, her whole body trembling.
He pumped faster, his hips piston-like, hammering, driving his heated flesh home. Her own hips bucked to keep up, grinding her ass against him with each thrust. When his hand went into her hair, pulling until it hurt, she melted all over. It was a strange sensation, pleasure and a warm yielding that made her legs go weak. He pushed down until her cheek was pressed against the smooth sheets, once again hard enough to let her know who was in command.
She was overwhelmed with sensation. With giving herself over to this man, the sheer brute strength of him, the size of his pummeling cock. The small bit of pain from him pulling on her hair. She loved every second of it.
When her orgasm hit, it hit like a ton of bricks, slamming into her with such force she cried out, screamed his name.
“Jared!”
“Ah, Leigh, yes, come for me,” he gasped, his hips slamming into her. “Too good…fuck…” His muscles convulsed and he shivered all over. “Ah…”
His body went loose and he collapsed on top of her.
His body was heavy, warm. Lovely. They lay together, panting,
After a while, he lifted his head, nipped the back of her neck. “Next time, you’re going to be on top. After that it’ll be bent over the kitchen table and I’ll fuck you from behind again. After that… I’ll think of something.”
She laughed.
“I need something to drink. You thirsty?”
“Yes, I’m dying of thirst.”
“A Guinness okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He planted a soft kiss between her shoulder blades, then his weight shifted as he got up.
She rolled onto her back as he left the room, taking the opportunity to look around.
Wooden nightstands on either side of the bed. Dark carved wood, probably Indonesian, as was the big dresser against one wall. Stacks of books were piled on the floor, but she couldn’t read the titles from where she lay. A large, wood-framed mirror was propped against one wall, and she realized she could see the reflection of the bed in it. That could be interesting… She looked away, a small smile on her face, and saw the black and white prints hung on the walls. Extraordinary, she realized, focusing on them.
One was a small Asian boy of about two or three, squatting on the ground, while behind him stretched the Great Wall of China. The focus was on the child, while the undulating miles of stone were soft in the distance. Another was a close-up of an old, dark-skinned woman, her eyes bright, peering from behind a swath of patterned fabric. In another was a group of naked children playing happily in a puddle of water, while an enormous military tank loomed directly behind them. The image was familiar.
Leigh sat up and looked for a signature. There it was, in the lower right-hand corner. J. W. Townsend.
Jared was the J. W. Townsend. He wasn’t just any photojournalist. Four books of his photos had been published, books one saw on the coffee tables of anyone who appreciated good art. He’d won awards, taken pictures in some of the most dangerous locales in the world.
Jared returned with two glass pints of dark ale. “I unpacked the kitchen. We can drink like civilized folks.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“That I unpacked? I just did.” He sipped his ale, handing one of the tall glasses to her.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you are?”
“I thought I’d introduced myself.” He paused. “Yeah, pretty sure I did.”
“Very funny. I mean why didn’t you tell me you’re the famous Jared W. Townsend?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s always charming. How do you do, I’m J. W. Townsend, famous photographer and modest as hell. Does it matter?”
“No, I suppose not. I just feel a little funny. Like I just unknowingly had sex with a rock star.”
He laughed, a deep sound rumbling in his broad chest. “I’m hardly a rock star.”
Leigh laughed, too. “God, never mind. Now I just feel like an idiot.”
“Would it make you feel better if we had sex again?”
She laughed. “You’re insatiable.”
He grinned at her. “Drink up, my girl. I’m about to prove that you are too.”
Night brought cooling air and darkness speared with stars. A faint breeze blew through the open window, playing over Leigh’s sweat and sex dampened skin. The scent of the ocean was in the air, mixed with that unique, summertime smell of pavement baked all day in the sun. She ached pleasantly all over. When she stretched, Jared stirred beside her.
“Hungry?”
She grinned. “You’re always hungry for one thing or another.”
“All day in bed with you, my sweet, and I’m famished. For you,” he paused and gave her nipple a playful bite, “and currently for food.” He sat up and popped out of bed. “Do you like Indian food? There’s a great place down on Venice that delivers. Brilliant curry.”
“Yes, anything.”
“Anything?” He quirked an eyebrow, and his eyes sparkled dangerously.
She laughed. “Anything to eat now, and anything else you want later.”
“You’re a good woman, Leigh.”
“I aim to please,” she said lightly while her heart danced in flitting spirals at the easy compliment.
The promised curry arrived quickly. They ate naked in Jared’s big bed, propped up against piles of pillows.
“I suppose this is the getting to know one another segment of the evening.” Jared took a bite of the soft nan bread he’d ordered.
“Not if you don’t want it to be.”
“That’s why I asked, darlin’. After what we’ve been doing all day, we shouldn’t be strangers.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What would you like to tell me?”
She shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. What would he want to know about her? What was there to tell?
“You already know I’m an interior designer. I’ve been doing it for about five years.”
“Is your family happy with what you do?”
“They’d be happier if I’d stayed married to my ex and made grandbabies for them.” She paused. “God, I’m sorry. Probably more than you wanted to know.”
He shrugged, his wide shoulders rippling with muscle. “No, it’s fine. I asked about your family. Go on.”
“Well, I have a younger sister, Erin. She’s coming to visit sometime this summer. She’s in a rock band. Plays guitar. She’s a genius. Writes all her own music.”
“Creativity seems to run in families. Perhaps I’ll get to meet her. What happened with your ex-husband?”
“What? I’m sure you don’t want to know about that.”
“You and I don’t need to keep secrets from each other. Do we, Leigh?”
Jared set his plate down on the nightstand, took Leigh’s empty plate and set it aside, as well. He pulled her into his body, one arm draped around her shoulders. “Tell me.”
Another command. Different from during sex, yet just as compelling.
She shrugged, took a deep breath. “It’s the same old sad story as everyone else. I was never good enough for him and eventually he found someone who was.”
“Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not good enough,” he said quietly.
Her chest tightened. She had to stop allowing him to affect her like this. It was dangerous. She was feeling too well used, too well loved. Vulnerable.
Need to change tracks.
“What about you? Have you ever been married?”
“Me? No. I move around too much. No woman in her right mind would put up with me.”
He sounded as though he were trying to convince her of his unsuitability. And he only confirmed her assumption that he wouldn’t be around for long. Which was fine. They’d just met. She liked him—really liked him—more than she’d expected to. But she’d gone into this experience expecting nothing more than a little friendly, easy sex. She wasn’t about to become attached, especially to one of her neighbors. She had to keep a clear head about this.
But why not enjoy him while she could? She stuffed her strangely rising emotions down, vowed to lock them away and not think about the future. He was here now, and the present was a very pleasant place to be.
Jared was watching her house again through the living room window. She was gone, meeting with a financial manager about opening her interior design business. He could still smell her all over his skin, that clean, dark, elemental sweetness. It made his cock hard every time, the way Leigh smelled.
They’d spent nearly every night together for two weeks. Pretty much every day, as well. Jared had never spent that sort of concentrated time with a woman he’d just met. With anyone, if it hadn’t been about work, or traveling together. Not even with Matteo. No, he and Matteo were more independent of each other. When Matteo was in town they’d hang out, go hiking, go surfing together, eat a few meals. Fuck. Then the next day Matteo was off playing his guitar at a local club or seeing friends. Or Jared would lock himself in the darkroom and not
come out for three days, or go away to work. It was always easy between them.
Matteo was coming back tonight. He was eager to see him, as always. It didn’t matter if he was away for a week or three months, and Jared never knew how long it would be. He was used to it. And maybe his lover’s gypsy ways were part of what kept things interesting.
They’d been friends for five years, lovers for nearly as long. It had never been anything more serious, although they loved each other. Jared was never in the market for anything serious. His lifestyle had never been conducive to a real relationship. He’d tried it a few times, had failed miserably. But with Matteo, it was friendship and sex and a kind of solid loyalty with no other expectations.
And now he’d just found out Matteo was coming to southern California to stay for a while. He didn’t know how long he’d be there. This was the first time he’d even considered it. Why did it matter, suddenly?
It was because of Leigh. He hadn’t mentioned Matteo to her, and now he felt like an ass, as if he’d kept something from her. But there was nothing to keep, no secret, no big deal. He didn’t think Leigh would be bothered by him being bisexual. She was too laid back, too relaxed about sex, for that to be an issue. But having Matteo in the house might change things. Which could be good. Or bad.
The idea of it being bad bothered him a lot more than he wanted to admit.
So did the dawning realization that Leigh was beginning to matter to him. He’d thought they could just be friendly neighbors who had sex on occasion. But it was more than an occasional thing. And there must be a reason why. A reason beyond the fact that the sex was incredible. He’d had incredible sex before.
It hadn’t been with Leigh.
Fuck.
He wouldn’t think about that right now. Matteo was coming tonight. He had to let Leigh know about him, and that would go however it would go. It shouldn’t matter so much.
