Whirlwind

by Layla Chase

  His glance connected with hers, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Can’t see the whole design.” His hand moved up and eased the blouse and her bra strap over her shoulder. His gaze lowered to her upper chest. “Nice detailing.”

  A rich herbal scent tickled her nose, and she swayed closer, only inches from his sculpted lips. What was it about this man that drew her? Made her want to go down on her hands and knees and howl like a she-wolf while he pummeled into her from behind? The moment the primal image crossed her mind, her breath quickened and her skin flushed.

  Focus on the banter. She inhaled, and her eyelids drifted closed. She was losing the struggle against succumbing to his charm. Every heart beat thrummed need through her veins, a slow, steady pulsing that dampened her panties and kept her nipples ruched. “What else can you show me?”

  The lightest of touches brushed her eyelids. “Not sure I can offer better than what you’re imagining.”

  Her eyelids popped open, and she connected with his knowing dark gaze only inches away. A gaze that searched hers, making a connection that seemed to touch her soul. Her mouth dried and she swallowed hard. “The deal was sharing tats.”

  “So it was.” A chuckle escaped his lips.

  At the whisper of his hot breath across her cheek, she squared her shoulders to brush the tight buds of her nipples against the restraining bra. Jolts of sensation targeted her pussy lips, and she had to bite back a groan.

  The scuff of his boots sounded against the concrete as he toed one off. He bent, stripped off his sock, and pushed up his jeans leg to expose a firm calf. A band of repeated symbols circled his lower leg.

  Senna squatted at his side and cupped her hand around his rock-hard calf, rubbing her thumb over the markings. “A migration band.” Forcing her gaze to the tattoo, she tried to ignore the heat of his skin and the pull of his strength, the part of Chev that spoke to her as a woman. “Interesting choice.”

  “More a statement of solidarity.” He ran a hand lightly over her hair and grazed her cheek before extending it, palm up. “What other treasures, uh, tattoos, will you display?”

  With her hand clasped in his large one, she rose to her full height and gazed at his enticing bare chest—pecs taut and bulging, dotted with deep bronze disks. The skin was tight and smooth, marked only by an inch-long scar near his collarbone. Her question of how that happened could wait until another time. Now, she thought of her remaining half dozen tats, deciding which to unveil next. As she enjoyed the sight of his body, she loosened the rest of the buttons and eased her blouse down her arms.

  Dark eyes widened with sexual heat, and his nostrils flared. His intent gaze roved her torso before meeting hers. “What should I be seeing?”

  Disappointment curled in her stomach. She’d wanted to put them on more of an equal basis with the amount of bared skin but had definitely anticipated a different response. With a twist, she angled her right shoulder in his direction. “It’s here on my shoulder blade. A hummingbird done the summer I spent under Jake Bearclaw’s tutelage.”

  A finger slid on her skin along the ridge of her shoulder, outlining the bird’s shape. “The green shimmers.”

  Heat built along her skin under his touch. Unable to resist, she rolled her shoulder, prolonging the sensation created by a man’s callused hand on her body. “His trade secret—one he never shared.” Her words were breathless, the temptation to lean back into his body almost overwhelming.

  His hand cupped her shoulder and pulled her around to face him. “You traveled each summer? Part of a college program?”

  “Museums, arts councils. I’m resourceful and scrounged for grants wherever I could get them.” She bit her lower lip before answering, unsure about revealing her desire to discover her true ancestry. “Nothing wrong with wanting to see the country.”

  “Keep that up, lady—” his heated gaze centered on her mouth “—and our challenge here is over.”

  Finally. An admission of his attraction. A dam inside her burst, letting her desire rule her movements. She anchored her hands on his ribs and pulled him close. “You, Chev, have said the magic words.” She tilted up her face and stretched to press a kiss on his waiting lips. The combustion was instantaneous and electric.

  His arms snaked around her and wrapped her against the solidness of his chest. He widened his stance and pulled her body flush with his, pressing her hips close with a hand at her lower back.

  “Oh yeah.” As he groaned, his words tickled her ear. “You feel as good as I’d hoped.”

  With her hands gripping his hard back, the heat from his body invading hers, and the scent of warm male filling her head, Senna’s senses were on overload. Blood rushed to her head—his magnetism made her reel. “And I hope you’re ready to make me feel even better.”

  His body stilled, and he eased backward until their gazes met. “We’re done sharing our body art?”

  “I’ll give you the quick tour.” She pulled back, hands struggling with the button on her jeans. The zipper grated downward, and she yanked apart the fabric. “The butterfly on this hipbone was done by an Iroquois known as Orenda. This dragonfly by a Navaho named Charlie Ooljee.”

  Chev stepped back and let his gaze wander her exposed skin in a methodical path. “These are nice.” He stretched out a finger and traced the outline of insects, running his finger along the elastic band of her bikini panties. “But not as fine as the body I see.”

  “That tickles.” She shivered and leaned over to shove the jeans down her legs, her heavy braid flipping over her shoulder. “This migration band—”

  A warm hand slid along her spine and nimbly unhooked her bra closure.

  At the sudden action, she gasped. The silky fabric popped loose and fell forward, along her arms. She straightened, grabbing for the scrap then met his gaze and let her arms fall lax at her sides. The bra landed at her feet.

  The molten heat in his eyes was like a velvet caress. In response, her nipples perked to full attention, sending tingles straight to the heaviness at the pit of her stomach. Building arousal made her sway, and she grabbed his shoulder to steady herself as she kicked aside her jeans.

  A strong arm wrapped around her back and pulled her close, his dark stare, hot and piercing. “Done with the tease show?”

  She crinkled her brows. “What?”

  “Like you don’t know what your swaying and shimmying caused?” His hand lowered to her ass and pulled her against his groin, then hissed in a breath.

  Against the rock-hard bulge behind his fly.

  “Those were nothing. I spent a summer in Vegas and learned gyrations, high kicks, and even a bit of pole dancing.” She shifted her hips, ran a knee along the inside of his thigh, and rubbed her belly against his hardness.

  A growl sounded low in his throat, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “Senna, you’re sure…”

  Damn sure. “I go after what I want.” Her heart rate kicked up a notch.

  “But here?”

  Her gaze met his, staring into the obsidian depths flecked with the darkest brown triangles, and she gave him a slow wink. “Live in the moment, Chev.” Her hands ran along his ribs, scooted over his stomach to his belt buckle, and tugged. “Appreciate what’s right at hand.” The closure held tight, and she yanked again. “If I could get this undone, I could appreciate you.”

  “Let me.” His hands moved to the silver buckle, twisted, and the closure unclasped.

  When he didn’t undo the zipper, she swallowed hard and worried that she’d been too brazen. Not all guys appreciated her bluntness—some had scoffed at her forward manner. But that wasn’t the type of man she’d judged him to be. Unable to resist, she reached out and cupped his cock through his jeans, flexing her fingers over its girth. Still hard and bulging.

  Chev breathed in a quick breath and braced his legs. “Yes, lady, I’m hot for you.”

  Her fingers caressed in a subtle massage, letting her actions clue him in on how much she wanted him. She hooked t
wo fingers into his waistband and pulled him close. “Show me the rest of your hard body.”

  Her lips pressed against his, and her tongue teased at his lips, savoring the firm texture of his mouth.

  Rough hands cupped her jaws and held her head still while he deepened the kiss, alternating between deep strokes of his tongue and gentle laps along her teeth and lips.

  Her pulse beat faster at the invasion, and moisture soaked her panties. The tang of arousal filled the air, inciting her own lust. She wanted his hard cock inside, filling her.

  Chev lowered a hand to cup her right breast, rolling her nipple between his warm fingers. His lips traced a hot trail of kisses along the side of her neck.

  Goosebumps ran over her skin at his touch. She hooked a calf around his leg and rubbed her mons on his upper thigh. A moan built at the back of her throat and hummed at her lips. For a second, she thought about ripping off his jeans. Instead, she rubbed her hands over his chest, enjoying the texture of tight muscles under smooth skin. The scent of sage clung to his skin, and she breathed deeply.

  He eased his mouth along her cheek, planting hot kisses to her ear. “I need you.” His hands circled her waist, and he lifted her to the padded table.

  Finally. Her breath caught in her throat. She gripped his shoulders then scooted backward, loving the look of concentration on his face as he scanned the area. A small table, a backless stool, a folding chair, and her padded tattoo table.

  “Lie down.”

  With quick movements, he unzipped his pants and skimmed them down his lean hips. Black briefs hugged his tight ass and cupped his heavy cock.

  She was almost content just watching the languid actions of his toned body.

  Almost.

  Naked, he was an imposing figure. Intense eyes, dark skin, muscled physique, and a quiet air of command that oozed from every gesture.

  Without breaking eye contact, he stepped to the table and leaned over to flick his tongue over her breast.

  The warm touch on her tight nipple sent a shock through her, and her back arched off the table.

  His mouth closed over her breast, and he drew her tender flesh into his mouth, laving with broad strokes of his tongue. At the same time, his hand inched along her abdomen and snuck under the elastic of her panties.

  Her breath quickened from the dual onslaught to her body, and she reveled under his intimate attentions. With one hand, Senna tried to wiggle her panties over her hips but kept getting distracted by the excitement his sucking mouth created on first one breast then the other. Her pussy throbbed with need, and the fingers playing with her cropped curls were not reaching their target.

  She ran a hand over his chest, teasing his nipples with caresses.

  He stiffened and eased upward, away from her touch. “Not yet.”

  “Why the hell not?” She reached out and cradled his balls, running her hand up his cock. “This is proof you’re ready.” She tightened her fingers in sequence, easing from the base toward the head.

  A groan escaped him, and his knee dug into the table. “I was thinking of your pleasure.”

  “Nice thought, now fuck me.” She raised her hips enough to scoot off her panties and tossed them over her shoulder.

  His gaze held hers for a long moment, then it lowered to take in her naked body. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth, and a finger ran along the inked marking above the line of her dark pubic hair. “A whirlwind? Here?” A black eyebrow winged upward.

  A grin stretching her lips, she shrugged. “I thought the symbolism was appropriate.”

  His palm covered the circular tat, a finger combing through her moist curls. “But will I get lost inside?”

  Her heart leapt. For so long, she’d wanted to connect with a man who wasn’t put off by her boldness. “Only one way to find out.” Her hand pressed on his as she lifted her hips. “Take me.”

  “This table won’t hold us both.” He planted kisses along her shoulder, his lips skimming her skin toward her breasts. “Turn over.”

  He was right. The table wasn’t meant for rollicking action. She flipped over and pressed her hipbones to the table’s edge, bracing her legs wide and resting her forearms on the padded surface.

  “Looks like you’re ready for the doctor to give you a shot.”

  The distinctive rip then crinkle of a foil packet sounded.

  She started to glance over her shoulder when an iron arm clasped her stomach and pulled her backward. Against a warm groin.

  “Lower yourself onto me.”

  The stiff head of his cock pressed against her wet folds, seeking entrance. This was what she’d been waiting for since the first moment she’d bumped into him at the exhibition entrance. Senna grabbed for the edge of the table and lowered herself with short bounces. Her thrusts were met with his slow strokes, and soon they were moving together, alternating between slow and fast, shallow and deep.

  When his hand cupped a breast and tweaked her nipple, she couldn’t hold back her sounds. “Damn. You fill me, Chev.”

  She caressed every inch of his skin she could reach—his hard thighs, firm ass, and taut waist—and tried to modulate her ragged breathing. Under her fingers, his body was dotted with beads of perspiration. Their joined bodies created a maelstrom of sensation. Her skin was on fire, and her pussy burned. She was close. All she needed was a bit of—

  “I’ve got to touch you.” Chev’s hand skimmed around her waist and dove into the curls dripping with cream. One fingertip circled her clit then pressed hard. A second one slid along her slick folds and then he worked them on both sides of her throbbing knot.

  The pressure sent her over the edge, her clit spasming with pulses one on top of the other. She stiffened then cried out, falling heavy against his arm and sucking in deep gasps of air.

  Chev pumped, long and deep, then he grabbed her hips and ground his cock in circles before letting out his own satisfied groan and slumping against her back. With slow strokes, his hands rubbed along her upper thighs.

  Deep inside, Senna savored the pulses as his hot cum jetted into the condom, his rigid head tickling the walls of her channel. His cock filled her like none other had.

  Moments of sated bliss stretched into minutes. She reveled in his skin hot against her back and the rasp of his breathing gradually returning to a normal pace. The sounds of the arena—laughter, talking, the clunks of equipment being packed—slowly filtered into her hearing. Scents of popcorn and hot dogs entered her nose. The reality of their quasi-public location registered, and she tried to straighten. How loud had she been? “Hey, Chev, we’re a bit exposed here.”

  For a split second, his hands froze then rested on her hips. “Right.” With a last caress, he stepped back.

  In an instant, cool air brushed on her naked skin, and she straightened her wobbly legs. Usually at these ‘just after sex’ awkward moments, she threw on her clothes and dashed home. This time was different—she wanted to know more about this guy. She stepped to the side and leaned a hand against the table’s edge.

  From the plastic storage bin beneath the table, she grabbed a couple of small towels, tossing one to Chev. The other she used for a quick cleanup before starting the search for her clothes. Why was the act of tossing off your clothes before sex passionate, but the hunt for them afterward so undignified?

  “How can you move after what we shared?” Chev’s lids were lowered halfway over his eyes, his hands braced on the table.

  Senna zipped her jeans and slid her blouse over her arms, her breathing still a bit uneven. “Because I don’t want anyone walking in and seeing us naked. I don’t believe my permit covers—” her hand flipped between pointing at his chest and then hers “—this.”

  “Ahh. Good point.” His grin turned lazy, and he eased into the nearby chair and stretched out his legs. “You’ve got more energy. Gather my clothes and toss them here.”

  “You’re already telling me what to do?” Normally, she enjoyed watching the act of a man dressing, loving the
immediate intimacy created.

  “Either that or I remain on display.” He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. “An event that obviously bothers you more than me.”

  She clasped enough buttons to keep her blouse closed and leaned over to scoop up his jeans. A familiar symbol in the design on his belt buckle caught her eye, and she lifted it to reflect the light. A small whirlwind sat on the horizon of a desert scene with a flat-topped mesa in the background. Her fingernail outlined the etched spiral. “I know this artist.”

  “You do?” His words were spoken low. “How?”

  Senna barely registered his guarded tone. “I mean I know this work. It’s beautiful. A friend had a buckle and then special ordered a watchband with similar elements.” She flipped it over and spotted the initials one on top of the other—C.T. “This is by Cheveyo Taima.”

  Chev. She gasped and whirled to face him, eyes wide. The pieces fell into place. Tattoo by ‘clansman’ Taima. Only revealing his name as ‘Chev. ‘ “You! You’re Cheveyo?”

  With an easy move, he stood and was at her side in two strides. He stepped into his boxer briefs, took the jeans from her hand, and pulled them on. “Have been all my life.”

  “But why?” Heat crept into her cheeks, and she was not normally a blusher. He really had her flustered.

  A couple of long strides took him back across the space. He lifted his T-shirt from the extra chair and pulled it over his head, extracting his braid. “I didn’t want my identity to matter.”

  Her heart raced. “I don’t know if it would have.”

  “Glad to hear it.” He shrugged and grinned. “Besides, I had another reason.”

  Senna didn’t know if she should be mad or embarrassed. “What reason?”

  “Not before you agree to have dinner with me.” He stepped close and rested his forearms on her shoulders, his hands linked behind her head. “Tonight in my hotel room where I can love you right.”

  Possessiveness laced his words. A proposition that sounded delicious. Spoken words of acceptance stuck in her throat and she could only nod.