by Anna Cruise
“I'm not ready for you to come,” he whispered. He lowered his mouth and his lips locked on my neck, then moved to my ear. He sucked on the sensitive flesh, then bit down. I cried out.
“Get out,” he told me.
I brushed the wet hair away from my face. “Don't wanna do me in the shower?” I asked, grinning wickedly. I leaned back against the wall again, trailing my fingers down my breasts. “Just a bed guy, huh?”
He reached for my arm and tugged me out of the water and on to the floor. With his free hand, he turned the faucet off. I stood on the bath mat, rivulets of water running down me. Goosebumps prickled my skin and my nipples tightened from the sudden onslaught of cool air.
He shoved me to the floor, the damp mat half beneath me. He wedged himself between my legs and pushed against me and I whimpered.
“You want it?” he asked.
“Yes.” I reached for him but he reared back, away from my grasp.
“Tell me.”
“I want you,” I breathed. I was crazy with wanting. Beyond wanting. I needed him.
He smiled with satisfaction but, instead of pushing into me, he got up on his knees. His eyes scanned the counter, locking on a small black pouch. He reached for it and I shivered in anticipation. Sex toys?
I couldn't see what he had in his hand, it was so small. My mind raced with possibilities. A silver bullet? Pleasure rings? He held up a small blue package, then brought it to his mouth. He ripped a hole in the wrapper, then pulled out a condom and handed it to me.
“Put it on.”
I pushed myself up on my elbows and, after a moment's hesitation, took it. I grabbed his cock, stroked it once, then shifted under him, like a mechanic sliding under the belly of a car. I touched my lips to him, intending to swallow him whole. He shirked away, his arousal an inch from my mouth.
He shoved me away. “I'm in control,” he whispered, his voice tight. “Put it on.”
I glared at him for a second but he planted his hands on my shoulder, his thumbs over my throat, applying gentle pressure. “Put it on,” he repeated.
I did what I was told, slipping the thin sheath over his arousal, stroking him as I did it. I watched the muscle in his jaw twitch, the way his eyes darkened, the sudden intake of breath when my hand slipped between his legs, teasing.
He leaned down, his mouth hovering above mine. “You want me?”
I nodded.
He smiled and this time, when he lowered his body onto mine, he pushed into me, warm and firm. I moaned and lifted my hips to meet him, to take all of him.
“Yes,” he whispered, his mouth against mine, his breath hot, his lips moist. He moved his lips to my cheek, then my ear, panting softly. “Yes.”
I tried to thrust my hips but he held me back, his pace slow, calculated. The inside of my thighs were slick and wet, not from the shower.
“Harder,” I told him.
His hands moved back to my throat, his fingers tightening just a little. I widened my eyes.
“I'm in control.”
And he was. Controlling everything, driving me insane. Just like I'd wanted to do to him.
His lips found my neck and I threw my head back and this time, he drove harder and deeper into me. Waves of heat built inside of me and I lifted my hips to meet his, whimpering with need.
His mouth nipped at my ear. “Tell me you're ready.”
I tried to find the words, but could only manage a whimper.
He thrust harder. “Tell me.”
I took a deep breath, my body hot and tingly, and rasped, “I'm ready.”
His lips drew into a smile against my cheek. He picked up his pace, crashing into me over and over, our slick skin slapping together, a fast, steady beat. My nails dug into his shoulders and I held on to him, raking my fingers along his skin, feeling the heat take over, every inch of me buzzing with desire and the anticipation of release.
The waves of heat cascaded through me, a white-hot avalanche and I screamed, my hips bucking against him. He kept slamming into me. I kept screaming. And then he pushed against me, pinning me to the tile floor, all of him emptying into me with a groan and a massive shudder.
My heart hammered wildly and I tried to steady my breathing. Tried to process what had just happened. I hung onto him, his hips slowing to a stop, his body limp, sated. I took a deep breath, trying to settle the waves still rocking inside of me.
The sex had been mind-blowingly good. But that wasn't why I was staring at the bank of lights mounted over the mirror.
I was numb. Shellshocked.
Stuart Woodcock had managed to do something no guy had ever done.
Tame me. Control me.
And I wasn't sure how to feel about that.
FOURTEEN
Something was poking my ass. Something warm and firm. I pushed against it and felt an arm wrap around me, a hand cover my breast. I molded my body closer.
“Good morning,” Stuart whispered, his finger flicking my nipple.
I moaned and shifted more fully on to my side. He grabbed my hips and, before I was even fully awake, eased his cock into me. Memories of the night we'd just spent together came flooding back. I reached behind me, my hand on his ass, raking his skin with my fingernails as he thrust deep inside of me. Jesus, he felt good. I moved my hand from his body to my own, trailing my fingers across my stomach, traveling down to rub the tight bud between my legs, feeling my body instantly respond. I was suddenly, gloriously awake. Alive.
“Get yourself off,” he whispered, his tongue tracing my ear lobe. He bit down gently. “Come for me.”
I didn't need an invitation. I worked my fingers, rubbing the sensitive nub, and he increased his tempo, his hips crashing into me as he drove deeper inside of me.
“Now,” I panted, stroking faster, feeling the sensation build. “Now.”
He groaned and shuddered just as I cried out and we came together, our bodies a twisted, spent mess.
Stuart wrapped his arm tighter around me and kissed my shoulder. “Good morning,” he repeated softly, his voice a little ragged.
“Hell yeah, it is,” I said, snuggling into him.
We lay quietly for a few minutes, his breathing evening out. I relived the last few minutes, the unexpectedness of it, and I relived the night we'd just spent. We'd stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes after our first encounter but he revived quickly. Before I knew it, he'd dragged me to the bed and proceeded to reenact every sexual act I'd ever done—and every act I'd always wanted. He didn't give me an ounce of a say, ordering me around, his eyes dark, his voice harsh with passion. For the first time in my life, I hadn't been the one calling the shots in the bedroom. Stuart had dominated me in every single way. And I'd liked it.
I turned to look at him. “So,” I said, splaying my fingers across his chest. “What's on the agenda today? More sex? Or getting ready for Mexico?”
He smiled. “I don't need to get ready.”
“Well, I might,” I said. “I have no idea what to pack. What to bring.”
“You don't have to go, Annika.”
“What?”
He closed his eyes. “You heard me.”
I pushed up on my elbow and stared at him. “Why wouldn't I go?”
His eyes opened and he lifted his eyebrows. “Why would you?”
“What kind of question is that?” I asked, irritated.
“I'm not trying to start a fight with you,” he said quickly. He stroked my back, his fingertips dancing lightly across my skin.
I arched away from his touch. “Why wouldn't I go?” I repeated. “I said I would.”
“I know,” he said. “But that was before...this.”
I sat up straighter. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
His eyes traveled the length of me, lingering on my exposed breasts. “Didn't you get what you wanted?” I opened my mouth to respond but he continued. “I mean, I wanted it, too. Don't get me wrong. And we can have sex all day long if you want—I've got nothing else on the agenda.
But I know that's the reason you volunteered to go.”
“You don't know shit,” I snapped, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
He reached for my arm and yanked me back into the bed. I tumbled on to the sheets, falling half on top of him.
“Let go of me,” I hissed.
I was pissed. Of course all I'd wanted from him was sex. Duh. But I hated hearing him spell it out for me, hearing him say that sex was all he apparently wanted from me, too. He didn't want my company in Mexico. He wanted to fuck me for the rest of the day and then head off into the sunset with grape-eyed, do-gooder Brynn.
“Will you chill the fuck out for a minute?” He threw his arm completely over me, pinning me to the bed.
“What if I want to go?” I said, struggling against his grip. “What if I want to go help people in Mexico?”
His eyes searched mine, a frown creasing his face. I didn't know what he was thinking, what he was going to say. But, all of the sudden, I did want to go. Not just because I didn't want him to spend any time alone with Brynn—although there was that—but because I wanted to show him I was more than just a sex toy. I didn't like being used. Not when I wanted something more.
I bit my lip. I didn't know what I wanted from Stuart. But I knew one thing. I didn't want to be a conquest. I'd never been one, had always been the one conquering the men I chose to sleep with, and I didn't want to start now.
Not with him.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “You can come.”
He shifted so he was on top of me, his knee nudged between my legs. He dropped his mouth to my breast, dusting kisses as his lips traveled across my stomach. I felt my body instantly respond.
He glanced up at me with hooded eyes and a wicked smile. “You can come,” he repeated, his voice husky with desire. “Now. And again and again.” His tongue found the center of me, that hot, heated core that was ready for him, and I inhaled sharply.
He lifted his mouth and grinned. “And to Mexico.”
FIFTEEN
I would have had sex all day long with Stuart. But Abby ruined everything.
She called three times before I finally crawled out of bed and grabbed my phone.
“Where are you?” she hissed.
I walked out to the living room, the phone cradled against my ear, and sank down naked on the couch. “What?”
She sighed. “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago.”
“What? Where?” I knew I hadn't agreed to babysit. I'd done my time with that kid, reluctantly volunteering to watch her when Abby and West went out for their anniversary last summer. It was never happening again.
“At the house,” she said. “For mom's birthday. The same thing we do every year on June first, remember?”
“Shit,” I muttered. I'd completely and totally forgotten. “Why didn't you remind me?”
“I tried,” Abby said. “Yesterday, when you hung up on me?”
“I was busy,” I said dismissively. “And you should have tried harder.”
She groaned. “Of course. This is all my fault.”
“Well...”
“Shut up, Annika. Can you get here or not?”
I glanced at the bedroom door. Stuart hadn't made a sound and I was pretty sure he was still passed out after our last sex session. I chewed my lip and thought for a minute. I'd have to leave Stuart. Get dressed and head over to the house and spend an hour or so with the rents and my barely tolerable brother-in-law and my niece who I was sure was part Tasmanian devil.
“Sure,” I said, with about as much enthusiasm as me agreeing to remain celibate for a month.
“Hurry. I'm covering for you for fifteen more minutes. Tops.” Abby hung up.
I dropped the phone on the coffee table and sank back into the cushions.
“Problem?” Stuart asked.
He was leaning in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of navy blue gym shorts. His perfect brown hair was tousled, little tufts sticking out from the top of his head. His chin was dotted with stubble, his cheeks rosy red, and all I wanted to do was climb back in bed with him.
“I...I have to go somewhere.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I thought we agreed to hang out here for the day. And fuck.”
“I know,” I said. “I just...I forgot something.”
“What?”
I didn't say anything.
“Got another hot date?” he asked.
“Shut up.” I frowned. “It's my mom's birthday.”
A grin spread across his face. “Oh?”
“Oh, what? You didn't think I had a mother??”
“No—”
“I mean, I know it's hard to believe mortal flesh gave birth to this,” I said, motioning to my body.
“You are a piece of work.”
“I know.”
I stood up. I was stark naked but I didn't care. He'd already explored every inch of my body. And I knew he liked what he'd seen. Touched. Tasted.
“Anyway, they're close by,” I told him. I brushed past him on my way into the bedroom, cupping his balls and squeezing gently. He sucked in his breath and reached for me but I pulled away. “I'll be back before you know it.”
“So I'm just supposed to wait here?” he asked, amused.
I glanced at the pile of clothing on the floor and sighed. It was the second day in a row that I had absolutely nothing to change into. I sighed again and reached for my skirt. My barely there denim skirt and leopard print halter wasn't exactly the outfit I'd have chosen to wear to my mom's birthday but I didn't have much of a choice. I tugged the shirt over my head and tried to adjust my tits so they didn't spill out quite so much.
“You can do whatever you want,” I said. “Just be back here in an hour. So we can continue where we left off...”
“Was that your mom calling?”
“No. My sister.” I shimmied into the skirt, pulling the waist low on my hips in an attempt to cover more of my thighs. I didn't have panties.
“Older?”
“Nope.”
“Younger? How old?”
“Twenty-one.”
He frowned and I knew what he was doing: remembering how old I'd told him I was.
“We're twins. Identical.”
His eyes widened and he let out a low whistle. “Dear God. There are two of you walking this city? This earth?”
I chuckled. “Abby is nothing like me. Nothing.”
“I think I need to see this,” he said.
I found his comb on the bathroom counter and tugged it through my hair. “What?” I said, leaning in the doorframe so I could see him.
Stuart rummaged in his duffle bag. He unearthed a brown t-shirt and slipped it on. It was the only article of clothing he was wearing.
“You're inviting yourself along?” I asked when he didn't answer.
He looked at me. “What? You don't want me to come?”
“It's not that,” I said. I glanced in the bathroom mirror and smoothed down my hair, trying to lose a little of the just-been-fucked look. “I just didn't think you'd want to come.”
He joined me in the bathroom. “Why wouldn't I?”
He took the comb out of my hand and worked it through his own hair. I watched him, an unfamiliar, slightly uncomfortable feeling settling in my stomach. Everything about the morning felt unfamiliar. New territory. Standing next to each other, getting dressed and combing our hair, talking about the day's plans.
“I don't know. Because it's just a lame family birthday party.”
He picked up his toothbrush and squirted toothpaste on it. And handed it to me.
I swallowed. I didn't do boyfriends. Not ever. I wasn't used to this kind of intimacy with a guy. Very rarely did I even stay until morning. It was something I'd never been interested in. Stuart was watching me, a puzzled expression on his face, and I realized I was just standing there, holding the toothbrush halfway to my mouth. I stuck it in my mouth and started brushing.
“You guys cele
brate birthdays in the middle of the day on a Monday? Does no one in your family work?”
I spit in the sink. “My parents are realtors. They make their own hours.”
“Entrepreneurs,” he said, nodding. “Will there be cake?”
“What?”
“Cake?” He said the word slowly, raising his eyebrows. “Caaaaaaaaake.”
I swatted his arm and he chuckled.
“I'm not deaf.” I handed him the toothbrush, then fluffed my hair and tugged on my shirt one more time. “Yeah, I'm sure there'll be cake.”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“We already agreed to spend the day together,” he said. He held the toothbrush to his mouth. “If we can't have sex, we can at least eat cake.”
SIXTEEN
I thrust the bouquet of flowers at Stuart. “Hold these.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
We'd stopped at a florist on Garnet and I'd run in and bought a dozen yellow roses for my mom. It wasn't the greatest gift in the world but it beat stopping at the drugstore and grabbing shitty chocolates or even shittier perfume.
Five minutes later, we were parked in front of my old house. I killed the engine and stuffed my keys into my purse.
Stuart smiled when he saw it. “You grew up here?”
I nodded.
“Nice.”
It was. We had a great house within walking distance to the beach. It was a good size, at least by Pacific Beach standards. Two-story with a detached garage, small yards both out front and in back.
I strolled up the sidewalk, the bouquet of flowers back in my hands. Stuart shoved his hands in his pockets and walked alongside of me. June Gloom was in full force, the coastline socked in by a thick layer of marine clouds. They'd burn off later but right now, it looked like we were living in San Francisco. The air was thick with moisture, the breeze cool, and my outfit seemed more inappropriate than ever.
We got to the front door and I didn't bother knocking, just pushed the door open and kicked off my shoes in the entryway. Stuart followed suit, leaving his leather sandals lined up next to my pair of heels.
My parents were seated in the living room, chatting with Abby and West. I didn't hear the baby and a brief flash of hope passed through me. Maybe they'd left her with a sitter. She was absolutely hell on wheels.
