by Rhian Cahill
“Can we do that? Keep it separate, I mean.”
“I think so.” He glanced away. “I’ll be honest, I’m going to be really disappointed if you say no and probably attempt to talk you into it.”
“Can I think about it?”
His gaze swung back to hers. “Yes. Take all the time you need.”
“Is that you talking me into it?”
“No. That’s me putting it on the table and letting you think about it. Tomorrow I’ll start trying to talk you into it.”
“Do you think you can?”
One side of his mouth kicked up in a sexy smirk. “Oh, yeah. And if words don’t work, I’ll just use my hands to communicate.”
She shivered, remembering how well those hands could tell her what he wanted, how well they delivered what she wanted. What she needed. Still, she didn’t want to seem too eager or jump in before she’d thought it through. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“Fair enough.” He pushed to his feet. “C’mon, I’ll share my pie with you before I run you home.”
That was it? Conversation over? Could it be that simple? She glanced around. “Are you sure you don’t want help cleaning up the rest of this?”
“It’s fine. There isn’t much. I’ll do it later. Luckily, I had a cleaning fairy here most of the day who kept a lot of it under control.”
“It won’t take long to do.”
“Maz?” He waited for her to look at him. “Come have pie with me.”
She didn’t know whether she was happy he wasn’t pushing her or not. If she looked deep, she knew her reluctance to say yes right away was due to her fear of repeating her experience with Stuart.
Except this wasn’t the same thing. Not at all.
She’d dated Stuart for months before they’d become intimate, and while he hadn’t, she’d thought it was the start of their future. He’d lied to her every step of the way. He already had a future—a wife and kids. She still couldn’t understand why he’d led her to believe they were working toward a life together for almost six years.
And what did that say about her that after the first two, when he’d finally put a ring on her finger, she hadn’t pushed for more than one weekend a month? For him—or her—to move in with the other. She’d even bought an apartment during those years, with his input.
This thing with Rylan was nothing like what she’d had with Stuart, real or imagined.
This was about sex. Pure and simple. No dinners out, no picking out furniture or helping decide career moves or what kind of home to live in.
This was nothing more than two bodies using each other for pleasure.
“Maz?”
She’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t realized Rylan waited, his hand out for her to take. She looked up, really looked at him, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why she should say no to his offer. For pie or sex. Smiling, she took his hand and said, “Apple or cherry?”
He laughed. “You should know that’s not a question by now.” He pulled her to her feet, his tug a bit harder than necessary, and she gasped as she slammed up against his chest. “Don’t you know you can put anything in front of me and I’ll eat it.”
Heat rushed through her at his closeness and his teasing words. “Anything?”
His head lowered, his mouth brushing lightly on hers. “Anything.”
A moan escaped when he slanted his head and took her mouth. She melted against him with the first sweep of his tongue, the nip of his teeth on her bottom lip.
“Legs up,” he growled into her mouth.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she jumped up and hooked her legs around his hips. “Yes.”
His eyes met hers. “Yes to pie or . . . ?”
“Both.”
“Pie or sex first?”
She grinned. “Both.”
It took a moment for him to understand, but when he did, his eyes dilated and the hard cock pressing into her clit throbbed. “I like the way you think.”
Palming her ass, he held her tight and carried her inside. When they reached the kitchen, he put her in the same spot she’d sat this morning, and she couldn’t stop the shudder at the memory.
“Stay right there. I’m getting supplies.”
She watched through heavy eyes as he pulled the pie from the fridge. She shivered when he yanked open the freezer and retrieved a tub of ice cream.
“Pie’s always better with ice cream.” He handed her the plate and tub, said, “Hang on to those,” then scooped her off the counter and strode for the stairs.
It wasn’t until they were halfway upstairs that his plan really took hold of her. She’d been joking when she had said both. Or at least not truly cognizant of what she was implying. Now, with Rylan racing up to his room, the pie and ice cream in her hands, his hard length pressed against her, she was fully aware of what she’d suggested.
When they reached his room, he lowered her to her feet beside the bed. Taking the dessert from her, he said, “Better get out of those clothes, or they’re going to get messy.”
Rylan didn’t wait for her to follow his instructions. He grabbed the back of his shirt and ripped it over his head, then he shoved his hands beneath the waistband of his shorts and took those and his briefs to the floor in one sweep.
God, he was gorgeous. Long limbs and toned muscles and a happy-to-see-her erection she’d had the pleasure of tasting earlier. Now, with her gaze glued to that part of him, she couldn’t believe she’d managed to suck him to the root.
He was big. Long and thick and flushed with need, his cock was the biggest she’d ever had the good fortune to enjoy. She licked her lips, thought about how he’d tasted earlier, how he’d taste now if she spread pie and ice cream along his shaft.
“You keep doing that, and I’ll push you to your knees. Or I’ll be coming all over myself, and I’ve got plans, Mazey. I need you to get undressed, or I’m going to have to do it for you. I’m not sure I won’t tear what you’re wearing to shreds if I do.”
Jolted from her lust daze, she popped the button on her shorts and pushed them and her panties to the floor. Next, she stripped out of her top and bra. Everything piled in a heap at their feet less than thirty seconds later.
Rylan shuddered. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
She smiled. “Right back at you.” Stepping forward, she wrapped her hand around his cock. “I don’t think I want pie anymore.”
His hand covered hers. “Oh, we’re having pie. I’m going to smear it all over your pussy, then my cock, and we’re going to do some math.”
Mazey sucked in a breath. “Multiples of three?”
He grinned, his hand guiding hers along his pulsing shaft. “I knew you were smart.” His hips bucked when she squeezed. “Enough. Get on the bed.”
24
Rylan scooped up a chunk of cherry pie and spread it over Mazey’s slick pussy lips. He groaned when her apple pie coated hand gripped his dick. “Fuck!”
“Cold, huh?”
He could hear the smirk in her voice, but he didn’t bother looking at her mouth. He couldn’t stand to see it right next to his pie smeared cock right now. He’d be blowing his load before they got to the best part of this. “Jesus, woman, you’re killing me.”
“Right back at ya,” she said on a rush of breath. “Shit, that’s freezing.”
Laughing, he mixed the ice cream he’d layered on her clit with the pie. “We should stop playing with our dessert and eat it.”
She didn’t answer him, and he was about to see what was going on when the slurp of her tongue up the length of his shaft pulled his balls tight.
“Holy shit.”
“Mmmm . . . so good,” she said right before she swallowed him down.
“Fuck. Shit. Maz.” He bucked his hips, sank his cock to the back of her throat, and clenched his jaw to keep from coming.
She’d sucked him this morning. He knew she was good at it. Fuck. She was expert level when it came to giving blow jobs, b
ut he’d be damned if she’d get him off before he got to return the favor.
Leaning up, he swiped his tongue over her clit. The noise she made around his dick made him smile. Pulling her hips closer to his face, he spread her wide and ate like a man who hadn’t had a meal in months.
They fought it out after those first few licks. Each trying their hardest to distract the other and push them over the edge. In the end, it didn’t matter how many fingers he thrust inside her tight pussy or how fast he lashed her clit with his tongue, her ability to deep throat hurled him into climax before he could get her there.
He wasn’t some macho guy who had to prove himself a man, but for fuck’s sake, he wished he could have held out longer. He didn’t let the blinding flash of release keep him down for long after that final pulse of come shot down her throat. Determined to have her coming on his tongue, he rolled them over and flipped around to kneel between her knees.
Grabbing her ankles, he pushed her legs up and wide, lifting her ass off the bed. The position put her pie and ice cream soaked pussy on full display and within easy reach, and he dove back in, a hungry growl rumbling in his chest.
It took no time for his face to be a sticky mess from chin to forehead. He didn’t care. He used everything he had to get her off. Lips, teeth, nose, fingers, at one point, he even used his chin to grind against her clit, and when the first contraction of her orgasm gripped his fingers, he pressed his thumb on the puckered opening between her cheeks.
She bucked beneath him. Her hips pumping up and down as the release tore through her with a scream. He pinned her in place with his forearms on the backs of her thighs and kept at her. Pushed and pushed and pushed until the first orgasm slid into a second.
By the time he’d wrung her out and let go, she was limp, her arms and legs splayed, her hair a sexed-up mess, and her whole body colored by a satisfied flush.
He crawled up over her, dropping kisses along the way. Her mound, her belly button, each breast, and finally her mouth.
Licking her lips, he pressed inside and played with her tongue. He kept it gentle, a tender sweep, a barely-there brush of his tongue on hers. Easing out, he sipped at her lips before moving across her cheek to her ear. “Want another piece of pie?” he whispered.
Mazey’s laugh was soft and low, as though she didn’t have the energy to do more. “I already had two.”
He grinned, nipped her earlobe. “Why yes, yes you did, you greedy thing.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, her slumberous gaze meeting his. “Do you want another piece?”
As much as he wanted to say yes, his dick wasn’t on board with it. Not yet. “Soon.” He nuzzled her neck with his nose. “How about we jump in the shower and clean up a bit first?”
A lazy smile curled her lips. “I don’t think I can stand. My legs are numb.”
Her words gave him an idea. His bathroom had a big jetted tub he hadn’t used in all the weeks he’d lived here. The idea of having Mazey in there the first time he filled it seemed symbolic. Smiling against her skin he said, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered.”
“Oh?” She turned her head, her lips meeting his for an easy kiss.
Breaking away, he said, “Hold that thought. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Somehow he found the strength to pull himself away. It was probably the thought of a wet and naked Mazey in his tub that did it. And true to his words, he was back in the bedroom a minute later, warm water filling the bath behind him.
“Okay. Up with you now.” Sliding an arm beneath her back and the other under her knees, he picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. He couldn’t help the smile that split his face wide. He could get used to this.
“What are you smiling at?”
“I’ve got a naked woman in my arms, and we’re getting in the bath together. What’s not to smile at?” he asked as he stepped over the side of the tub. Lowering to his knees, he wiggled them around until he had her back against his chest, her ass cradled by his groin, and her legs stretched out between his. “Let’s see you keep the smile off your face now.”
She twisted her head and tipped it back, looking up at him, the smile on her lips matching his. “You’re right. What’s not to smile at.” With a dreamy sigh, she closed her eyes and dragged her fingers through the water now covering his legs. “I can’t remember the last time I took a bath. I forgot how relaxing they are. How much I like them.”
“You should take one every day.” He wanted her to indulge herself. She worked hard, and from what he knew, she’d worked harder before moving to Sunnyville. She deserved to enjoy some comforts.
“I could definitely get on board with that if my place had one of these,” she murmured.
“I’ll give you a key. You can use mine whenever you want. I don’t even have to be here.”
Her eyes opened, her sleepy gaze studying him intently. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”
He’d give her a key before he took her home. He’d even see about getting some bath salts or bubbles or something. Whatever he could find to tempt her more. But that was for later. For now . . .
He slid his palms up her ribs, his hands coming to a stop beneath her breasts but not touching. It didn’t take her long to show him what she wanted. Back arching, she gripped his wrists and moved his hands up to cup her.
“Hmm . . . that feels good,” she murmured.
He played his thumbs over her nipples, making them hard and pointy, their color deepening the more he stroked them. His dick throbbed. Bending, he nuzzled her ear. “I’m getting hungry again.”
“For pie?” she asked with a smile.
“Not unless you’re talking Mazey flavored pie.”
“It just so happens I’ve got that flavor.”
“Hmm . . .” He buzzed his lips along the slope of her neck. “Definitely getting hungry again.”
Taking a hand off her breast, he slid it down her stomach to her mound. He liked that she wasn’t bare. He liked it even more that she kept herself neatly trimmed. It meant his fingers encountered hot flesh easily. Meant he could get at the hard knot of her clit faster.
He swirled in light strokes, occasionally dipping lower to rim her opening. She was wet. Getting wetter. And it had nothing to do with the warm water surrounding them.
She rocked into his touch on her breasts, on her pussy, her body rolling in a languid wave that kept his tempo slow, sensual. An ebb and flow of soft caresses that slowly took them both back to heart-pounding pleasure. There wasn’t the frenzied rush of before, no frantic grab and chase, only a gentle meander to the top.
His cock throbbed between them, and if he pulled her higher against his chest, he’d be able to slip inside her without much effort. But he was enjoying this ride, the hump and grind of naked body on naked body, the hot slide of skin on skin.
As he pulled her tighter, increased the pressure of his hands, he felt the tremors of Mazey’s orgasm begin, and when she rolled her head on his shoulder and whimpered, writhed against him in ever-increasing speed, he knew they were pushing for pleasure, the burst of satisfaction they couldn’t seem to get enough of.
“Ry,” she moaned. “Please.”
Unable to resist her plea, he pressed harder, stroked faster. And when she convulsed in his arms, her release taking hold, Rylan bucked his hips, grinding his cock against the top of her ass, and followed her into bliss.
25
“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait?” Rylan asked for the millionth time.
“No.” She pushed him out her door. “I’m fine. I’ll see you at work.”
“I don’t mind waiting,” he offered.
She smiled. “I know you don’t, but there’s no need.”
“Okay.” He stood there, staring at her with a scowl.
“Go.” Giving him a little finger wave, she closed the door.
He didn’t move, and with the last glimpse of his face, Mazey could see he wanted to argue some more, but really, what would be t
he point. They both needed to get ready for work. At least she did. Rylan had already showered and dressed in his uniform before leaving his house five minutes ago.
She didn’t need him waiting for her like a boyfriend. That’s not what they were, and they’d made the decision to keep their friends-with-benefits relationship a secret, arriving at work together wouldn’t help that.
Plus, she was feeling a little off, her stomach not in the best of shape after a weekend of indulging. She wanted to take her time getting ready. She had an hour, and she planned to spend most of it in the shower making sure she removed every sticky trace of pie from her hair and body. The rest of it, she would spend eating some plain toast in the hope of settling her roiling stomach.
In general, she didn’t eat much sugar, and she’d eaten far too much in the last twenty-four hours. She shivered at the reminder of what she’d done with Rylan since yesterday.
Last night after they climbed out of the bath and dried off, he’d dressed her in one of his old army shirts and led her downstairs for dinner. Neither of them had been all that hungry after their pie feast, so they had ended up pulling together a platter of leftover vegetables and meat, with cookies for dessert.
They’d eaten out on his deck under the stars and talked for hours. She couldn’t remember what exactly they had talked about. It seemed as though they could ramble on and on about nothing and everything, and yet she couldn’t pinpoint one of the topics they’d discussed.
She was comfortable with him. In and out of bed. The conversations she had with Stuart, she remembered most of them word for word, a lot of them not pleasant in the least. Usually it was him pointing out one or more of her inadequacies and suggesting—telling her—ways to fix them.
Frowning, she wondered how she could have possibly thought she was happy.
How did a man who found fault with everything about her become so important?
Had he always been so critical?
Had she been so in awe of him as a doctor, she had ignored his faults?
Because let’s be real. He had loads of them. And that didn’t include the fact he was a liar and a cheat.
