Hangovers and Holidays (Untouchable Book 5)

by Heather Long

  “Angel,” he told me in a ragged tone, as if the words had been torn out of him. “I need you to let me do the moving, ‘cause I don’t know that I have it in me to be gentle right now. I’ve wanted you for a really long fucking time…”

  “Anything you want.” Not a difficult promise to make. Just sign me up. “I don’t want to pressure you…”

  He laughed, and it was a rough, sexy, and altogether captivating sound. “Angel, you’re not pressuring me for anything. Fuck me.” He touched his tongue to his teeth, and then he dragged his gaze down to my breasts. “I’ve pictured this moment a thousand times. I’ve probably jerked myself off to it at least that many, and let me tell you…my palm has nothing on your body.”

  The shiver working its way through me now sent goosebumps over every inch of my skin, and my nipples tightened even further. It was like his perusal alone was a caress, and I began to squirm a little as he roved his gaze over me. He moved his hand from my hip, then cracked it back down lightly and my back arched. It was just at the curve, and it didn’t hurt so much as shock me.

  “Lay still,” he said. “I want to look. That bikini hid all these parts, and I want to see.”

  I swallowed as he bumped my thighs until I loosened my legs. The blush I’d resisted earlier flushed across my skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake everywhere his gaze settled.

  “You’re so beautiful, Angel,” he whispered, stroking my hip where he’d smacked me. “And I mean it, I don’t have gentle in me right now.”

  “I can handle it,” I promised, and he snapped his gaze up to mine. The hunger flaring in his eyes settled all internal arguments and worries. I could handle it. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

  “Never,” he promised. “Never.” He tilted his head back for a moment and gulped in air like he needed it. “Keep your hands there.” It wasn’t a request, so I just nodded, and he let go and tugged his shirt off and tossed it behind him before he stood. As much as I missed the weight of him, I stared as he pulled his belt free, then shucked off his jeans. His boxers swept down with them, leaving his cock in prime view.

  Everything about Ian was cut—his shoulders, his pecs, his hips. He had an Adonis belt to die for. Even if I didn’t know he’d played football, you could hardly miss it. Nothing spare anywhere, and all of that gorgeously golden tanned flesh—well, except around his groin and hips where his swim trunks usually rested.

  The nest of blond curls around the base of his cock even managed to look sweet, and I rolled my eyes internally at that bit of monologue. His cock was thick, just like the rest of him, and the tip was almost rosy it was so red.

  He ran his hand from the base to the tip, and I might have whimpered as he gave it a couple of hard pumps, his fingers flexing around it. Then he paused, so still, and I sucked in a breath.

  “Fuck,” he said, then cut his gaze to his dresser and back to me.

  “What?” Hot and cold blitzed me at the same time, leaving me dizzy.

  “Fuck,” he repeated, then reached over to his nightstand.

  “Ian.” I started to sit up, but he pointed a finger at me.

  “Don’t.” The predatory look in his eyes when he riveted them on me held me far more captive than that single word. “Condoms. They’re in my bag. Downstairs.” He cursed again.

  And a laugh escaped me, more from delight at his intensity than any real humor. At the same time, I couldn’t adore him more at the moment. He was so worried. “We don’t need them,” I told him softly.

  This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned this conversation. In fact, I’d shied away from it a couple of times already. Not because I didn’t want to tell the guys, but more that I wasn’t sure how to approach it without sounding like I’d turned into some kind of sex-crazed, horny teenager.

  I had a few years of being a horny teenager under my belt. The guys wouldn’t care. I knew that. Intellectually. After that near slip with Coop, I damn well knew he’d be all in. Knowing it in my head wasn’t the same as knowing it in my gut.

  That said, Ian didn’t need one. And he sure as hell didn’t need to tear himself up about it.

  “What?” He pinned me with a look, and I squirmed again. He wasn’t even touching me, so how was he managing to make me feel like he had his hands all over me?

  I licked my lips, then met his gaze steadily. My voice was pretty wrecked from wanting, but I didn’t care. “You don’t need one. You’re clean. I got tested…and I asked the doctor for an implant.” I shifted my arm this time—the left one, so I could half-turn to present him the upper arm, and it meant kind of rolling on my side. Ian studied my arm and then dragged his gaze down the length of me.

  If my nipples got any tighter, they might break off. I was so damp, the slickness had to be painting the inside of my thighs. Still, all I got was a thrill from the way he kept devouring me with his gaze. I was not a coy person and I’d never pretended to be a sexpot, but if he kept looking at me like that, I needed to practice.

  “It’s effective. No pregnancy. And…that was why I asked you guys about getting tested. I don’t…” Fuck, I was going to bring this up, and I could only mentally cross my fingers it didn’t end this before we even truly got started. “I didn’t want to be the reason any of you got something if the others had it.”

  I braced for his reaction, but the sudden blinding grin was not what I expected. “You are the fucking best,” he swore, then he crawled back up the bed and his mouth was on mine before I could even process the words. The searing kiss stole every ounce of breath. He stroked his hands up my arms and positioned them above me again. The smooth coolness of leather slid over my arm, and I tilted my head to find him threading his belt around my left wrist, then looping it before I glanced at him.

  “I really need you to keep your hands to yourself.” He looked so damn serious, I nodded. “Is this okay?” He gave the belt a little tug, and I wasn’t saying no, so I just nodded. He hooked it through the slats of his headboard before he slid it over my cast. “This is just a reminder. Don’t pull, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  That wasn’t a request. More than a little turned on by the prospect, I just nodded and watched him as he turned his attention back to me. Then he kissed me again, another blistering capture of my mouth as his tongue swept inside. The weight of his cock was right on my thigh, and I squirmed a little, wanting to move. He stroked his hands down, and this time, he pinched my ass.

  “Stay still,” he ordered. Then he was kissing my jaw and my throat. A moan slipped out of me when he closed that hot mouth on a nipple, and I forgot about the not moving thing. That earned me another slap, and the groan that hot sting elicited should have embarrassed me. It might later.

  I didn’t really care. He cupped one breast, massaging it as he sucked hard on the other. My back arched, trying to get closer to him. The hand on my hip slid between my thighs, and I let out a hiss at the first brush of his fingers.

  “Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re so wet.” He didn’t leave me room to respond before he stroked my clit. And I was too primed, the tension in me snapped, and I thrust my hips up. He moved to the other breast, and I swore I felt his teeth this time as he pushed me ruthlessly.

  Already too sensitized by the day, it didn’t take me long. The orgasm crashed through me and left me almost soundless, even if I wanted to scream.

  He bit along the underside of my breast, and I hissed at that, then he pushed a finger into me, quickly followed by a second, and my thoughts melted. This was everything I’d hoped, but not enough of what I wanted. At my protest, he lifted his head and eased a third finger in. I clenched down on him as he stared up at me.

  “Like that, Angel?” he whispered. “Are you going to like it more when it’s my dick and not my fingers?”

  “Yes.” Was that even a real question?

  “How badly do you want me in here?” He pumped his fingers in, and the hard thrust of them as he curled to stroke my g-spot had my eyes rolling.

  “Ian…�
��

  “How badly?” There was a bit of a cruel streak in him. One I hadn’t expected. “You’re going to have to tell me.”

  I rocked my hips up to meet him, and he pulled his fingers out. Then I got another slap on the ass for my trouble.

  “Dammit,” I swore, and he grinned.

  “I told you not to move.”

  “You’re killing me,” I complained. Not really. I just wanted…

  “Then be still and let me enjoy myself,” he instructed, and his voice had deepened, the husky notes darker and demanding. “Or I’m just going to come all over your belly, and that won’t make either of us happy.”

  As if to illustrate his point, he moved his hand down to his cock so I could see the moisture glistening on the tip. He rubbed himself, his knuckles whitening as he fisted the base before stroking up to the tip.

  I licked my lips. That looked fantastic, if a little painful.

  “Can you be a good girl, Angel?”

  I almost laughed again. It would be so cheesy, except my body responded to the tone as much as to the way he looked at me when he said it. “I can be anything for you,” I promised. “Just don’t stop.”

  “Not going to stop,” he whispered. “Don’t think I could right now.” He eased me onto my side a little, then reached up to fix the belt until he had me almost rolled over onto my stomach before he fixed the loops. It wasn’t remotely uncomfortable, though I didn’t like losing my view.

  At my little huff of protest, he chuckled and then he bit the curve of my ass. The bite stung, but he pressed a kiss over it and then traced his hands up and down my sides.

  “Angel, you look beautiful no matter how you’re lying, but I have always loved your ass.” The admission almost made me preen as he massaged one cheek and then the other. “You have no idea what it does to me to see you in jeans, do you?”

  “Um…” I glanced over my shoulder at him as he stroked down the backs of my thighs and eased them apart. You know, it would be worth whatever spanking he wanted to give me. I shook my ass at him, and Ian’s mouth curved as he caught my eye. The moment held there, and then he landed a hard slap on my left cheek, the one he hadn’t spanked earlier, and heat jolted all the way through me.

  At my harsh breath, he kept me pinned with a look as he massaged the heat from where he’d landed it, then he cupped his palm as he landed a second, and I groaned.

  “Fuck,” he exhaled and moved, bracing my hips as he lined himself up, and then he pushed in, no pause for breath as he thrust deep. My whole body curled as I tried to push back into him, but there was no room for it as he draped over my back, and then his mouth caught mine as he began to rock his hips.

  The feel of him was incredible, and I let out a sharp cry as he rocked into me. The slap of his skin hitting mine served like a damn metronome, and somewhere the fact that his music was still playing hit me and a laugh escaped me. His groans and harsh breaths punctuated our kisses. The belt came loose from my wrists, and he dragged me back up with him, mouthing kisses along my jaw as he kept slamming into me.

  The shift in angle was everything, and every push made me cry out. I had to be quiet but I didn’t want to be, and Ian was no quieter than I was. He skated a hand down my chest as his other arm kept me up with him as he increased his rhythm. When he began to play with my clit, I lost it and dropped my mouth to the arm he had braced over my chest and clamped my lips against him, trying not to scream.

  Vision whiting out, I couldn’t do anything but hold on as he rocked into me. Every stroke was like riding pure heat, and I only surfaced as he let out a long, low moan, hips jerking once. His orgasm was a lot quieter than mine, but the rush of heat pooling through me was so fucking different.

  Somehow, he twisted to get us down on our sides, and he cradled me to his chest. Slowly, the fact that my whole body trembled registered, as did the slow strokes of his hands along my sides and up to my breasts, more soothing than stimulating. He was kissing me, too. Against my neck and along my shoulders.

  I shuddered as he eased out of me. Oh, so much messier. That thought drifted from somewhere as he nudged me onto my back, and then he cupped my face before nuzzling a kiss so gentle, it brought tears to my eyes. I lost track of time, just lying there drifting as we kissed. This time when I lifted a hand to run through his hair, he only caught it for a moment to kiss it, and then I was free to touch him.

  Eventually, our panting breaths slowed, and he stared down at me from heavy-lidded deep blue eyes, pupils blown and his expression so possessive, it made me shiver all over again. “How are you feeling?”

  Oh, yes, the wrecked tone in his voice made me smile. “I don’t have words,” I admitted. I could still feel him inside of me. The heat. The weight. No condom was great.

  I never wanted to go back.

  I could also feel him leaking out of me. I could live without that, but not enough to make it matter. He kissed me again, and the song on the stereo shifted over to one of the new ones, the one he’d said he’d written about me, and I traced my fingers against his face.

  When he slid a hand down to catch some of his cum and trace it back up to rub against my labia, and I raised my brows. “Marking territory?” No idea where that came from, but his sudden blinding grin made me glad I’d said it.

  “Just reminding myself this is real,” he whispered. “That I’m not dreaming.”

  At that, I lifted my head and nipped his jaw, then kissed along his throat until I could find a spot to suck a hickey into place. He began to toy with my clit, and the overstimulation made me whimper, but I didn’t push at him to stop.

  “Definitely not a dream,” I assured him as I dropped my head back to the pillow.

  “Good.” Then he did something I could never have expected. He not only kissed his way down my body, he nudged my thighs apart so he could settle between them. The hush of his breath over my pussy sent a fresh wave of heat through me.

  Before today, I was pretty sure I’d pushed every limit.

  I was wrong.

  “I hope you don’t mind if we break your curfew,” he teased, and I laughed. A laugh that turned into a groan as he ran his fingers down my labia and parted them before he pressed his face against my pussy and proceeded to eat himself out of me.

  I didn’t think I had it in me to come again.

  Trust me, I was wrong about that, too.

  It was late when he slipped out of his room to the bathroom and came back with a washcloth. He helped clean me up from our next round, and I shuddered through every touch. I was too sensitive now. When he tried to apologize, despite his smug grin, I pinched him.

  As much as I’d love to never move again, I had to get dressed. He helped me, including getting the charm necklace back into place, though I did go home without panties. The scraps of mine were tucked away in his drawer. We slipped out like thieves—thank God his parents had gone to bed and I didn’t have to look Joe or Sara in the eye after fucking their son five ways from Sunday. Or I should say, after their son fucked me five ways from Sunday.

  My ass was still a little tender, but not in a bad way. Everything was. And at the same time…

  “Ian?”

  He glanced at me as he started his mom’s car. We’d had about forty text messages from the guys that we’d utterly ignored. It was almost midnight, and we were finally heading back to the apartment. Jake’s sarcasm had echoed through his Well, thanks for the update, asshole that he’d sent to Ian after Ian answered him.

  “Yeah?” The possessiveness was still there in his eyes.

  I licked my lips. The intensity, the day, all of it… It was too much and perfect at the same time. “Don’t think this lets you off the hook for those dates.”

  He stared at me a beat, then burst out laughing.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Angel.”

  I grinned and leaned back in the seat.

  “You hungry?”

  I considered his question. “I could eat.”

  I’d definite
ly worked up an appetite again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Merry Mayhem

  I startled awake to the soft weight of a hand on my cheek and two fingers pressed against my lips. It was dark as hell, save for a crack of light let in from the hall.

  “Archie?”

  He motioned for silence, then beckoned me out of the bed. I’d been sandwiched between Jake and Ian, so he had to help me climb out. Coop was right there at the door, and he had clothes for me in his hands.

  It wasn’t until I was in the hall and Coop was helping me put on a pair of yoga pants while I braced one hand on the wall, that I said, “What’s going on?”

  “We’re going Black Friday shopping,” Coop told me in a hushed voice, and Archie rubbed his hands together gleefully. He was way too awake for what was—I caught Coop’s hand to look at his watch—three-thirty in the morning?

  “What the hell? We just went to bed a couple of hours ago.” If that. No wonder I was so groggy. Not even the cats had stirred, and they were usually the first ones to pounce when I got up, no matter what time it was.

  “Hands up,” Coop said as he tugged my tank top up and over. Then he had a bra that he slid me into, and I stared at him a beat. Wait, why was he dressing me? But he had it hooked on and then tugged a sweatshirt over my head. It was all slouchy, comfy clothes, so I wasn’t going to complain too much.

  In the living room, Archie held out one of my reusable coffee mugs filled to the brim, and I downed it gratefully as Coop pulled on my socks.

  “I’m not five,” I told him. In fact… “I tied your shoes when we were five.”

  He shot me a grin. “Then call this making up for it.”

  “Why are you two so happy?” And why weren’t we waking up Jake and Ian?

  “Because we are going to hit the sales, we’re going to see what there is to see, and we’re going to people watch,” Archie said, his eyes dancing. “This is like the first Christmas in forever that I’ve been excited for… We need to get you a tree.”