by Holley Trent
“I’m sure there’s a lot more going than kissing, if we’re any indication of what’s typical.” She looked down onto the lawn again.
“You’ve got to admit, it’s exhilarating getting to try things you never thought you’d experience.” He moved so he was right behind her, his feet bookending hers, and put his left hand on the railing. She didn’t turn, didn’t say a word to stop him. She just let her body mold against his chest as he leaned in and skimmed the tip of his nose along the satiny curve of her jaw. He pressed his lips to her warm neck and inhaled her sweetly cloying scent. It was fruity and floral all at once. Decadent, with just the right notes of womanly musk.
He wanted to lick her there and everywhere. Strip her nude and have his fill of her. He wanted to take her hard and fast the way desperate men took their women, then take her again slowly, thoughtfully, until she quivered beneath him and clawed her mark onto his back just like she had with her teeth on Clint. He wanted to take her home and love her up with Clint’s help, but he didn’t know how to build that bridge. How would they go from casual vacation fling to something more? Something serious.
“That feels good,” she whispered and teasingly ground her ass against his crotch.
He worked his hands down to the bottom of her dress, crushed it in his fists, and nudged it up to her hips. “Quit it, or you’ll be flying home with a limp and a smile.”
“Promises, promises,” she said.
“I really didn’t bring you out here to fuck you. I just wanted to talk.” He kissed her more, up the lobe of her unadorned ear to the top, where he pulled it between his teeth and let it snap back.
“Do you always talk with your body instead of your mouth?”
“Only when you’re around, apparently. I like you, Liv. It’s nice of you to put up with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, Clint’s ill-mannered because he can get away with it. I grew up the middle son with four brothers in the eastern North Carolina boondocks. As close to the swamps as you can get. My fingernails were only ever clean on Sundays, and that’s because my mean-ass granny would come across the field and crack the whip on us, so we’d go to church. My mom worked nights and slept days, and my dad just tried to keep the farm going.”
“Did you think I would view you as pathetic?”
“No, not pathetic. Country, though.”
“I don’t get that vibe from you.”
“I try hard to keep it under wraps. Get me tired enough, though, and the bumpkin comes out. Clint jokes my tattoos just cover up the farm dirt I’ll never be able to wash off. Hell.” He tugged at his shirt. “Clint picks out my clothes half the time. Left up to my own devices, I’d be in an old work shirt and cargo shorts.”
“Your shoes were a dead giveaway this isn’t your usual get-up. You hadn’t even cracked the leather.” She laughed. “Honestly, I would have been just as impressed by the work clothes. You’re built damn nice, Kenny.”
He couldn’t help but to laugh, too. “It’s been a long time since I’ve connected with a woman. Eleven years ago, I felt like every pretty lady I encountered talked down to me. I guess they thought I was stupid because I had a little twang in my voice.”
“If I’m nice to you, it’s because you’re nice to me. Simple as that.”
“I think that’s the flight attendant in you talking. You don’t have to waste your customer service reserves on me.”
“It’s not a waste. You make it easy to be nice. I get tired of having to work so hard at it.”
“Hmm.”
He knew what that was like, in a way. He spent a lot of time under cars but had to deal with customers every now and then. They’d cuss and argue about estimates and expenses, and he’d have to stand there and silently endure it. His scripted response, courtesy of Brent, was, “I could fix it for cheap, but if I do, you’ll just need it fixed again. Let me do it the right way the first time.” Sometimes they huffed and drove their junkers away, but for the most part, they told him to fix it then walked away cursing his mother under their breath. Clint told him he should quit. Financially, they could certainly swing it, but what would he do with himself? Be a stay-at-home boyfriend? Play more gigs with the band? Maybe do more community service. That wouldn’t be so bad, but he did like repairing cars, so he’d have to find another way to get his mechanic fix.
He sighed, and trailed his fingertips along Olivia’s inner thigh. “Hey, you never answered Clint’s question. Why did you really come here?”
“I did answer it.” She drew in a breath when he ran a finger down her pussy then swirled it around her swollen clit. “I answered the best I could.”
“Did you? I think you came here for more than a hookup. I understand wanting to wait for someone to come to you, but I think you were holding out for more than a kinky tryst.”
She hooked her right leg around Ken’s and put her head back against him. Then she moaned as he probed her. “Is this therapy?”
“I’m hardly qualified. I’m just a mechanic.” He set her leg down to the balcony floor and turned her around to kiss her.
She sucked on his bottom lip and slid her hands around to his ass. She grabbed it and kneaded it hard, just the way Clint did. Just the way he liked.
He slid his hands up to her face and broke the kiss. “Really, I just want to talk to you. Okay?”
“Is that your way of warning me about the upcoming gentle letdown?”
“Not at all, honey. I don’t want to let you down ever. I want to talk to you, because you’re soft and sweet, and that’s something Clint can’t give me.”
Her cherry-red lips parted, and he used his thumb to wipe away the lipstick he’d smudged. “You really mean it?”
“Yeah, I do. Come on. I’ll give you a comfortable shirt to put on.”
She tucked her arm through Ken’s, and he walked them toward the door. “I think I’ll take a shower first,” she said.
He pushed the French doors closed and fastened the latch. It shut out the music from the lawn and locked him in with Olivia. Ken went to his suitcase and found the shirt wadded beneath the pajamas he hadn’t yet worn. Clint had told him to pack them just in case, but that just in case scenario hadn’t happened yet. He handed it to her, and she nodded her thanks before heading toward the bathroom.
Everything about her was damned irresistible, and as she showered, he struggled to compartmentalize and prioritize everything he wanted or needed to accomplish.
The bathroom light clicked off, and she stepped out while buttoning the last button on the shirt.
“Maybe we can finish that bottle of wine,” he said. “When we leave here, I probably won’t touch the stuff again, unless I attend a wedding or something.
“Not fond of wine? You sure came to the wrong event, then.”
“It was either this event or wait until winter. Clint didn’t want to wait.”
“I see. Do you always do whatever Clint wants?”
“A happy Clint makes me happy. He’s really not that hard to please, once you understand what makes him tick.”
“Sounds like a lot of work, being in a relationship like that.”
“I’m sure you’ve been in enough.”
“A few,” she said.
“Never wanted to commit?”
“Never really found anyone worth me upending my plans or career for.”
“That’s cold.”
“It’s the truth. My sister thinks I’m incapable of long-term relationships, of permanency, and likes to throw her happy nuclear family bullshit in my face during every family gathering.”
“You don’t want that?” He grabbed the bottle of wine from the table, along with two glasses, then sat on the right edge of the bed. He shucked off his shoes.
“What? A home, a spouse, and a couple of kids?”
He nodded.
She shrugged. “Sure, I guess, but not at the expense of not having passion. That’s what missing from my sister’s life. Everything is rote and
predictable. No room for surprises, and God forbid anyone toss a monkey wrench into her perfectly coordinated life.”
He patted the bed beside him, and she flopped there. He handed her a glass of wine.
She sipped for a while, staring at him over the rim.
“You’re not cut out for the white picket fence life, are you?”
She closed those dark eyes and shook her head slowly. “My job keeps me hopping, and I like the adventures it takes me on even if I hate the company. I guess there are only two things missing from my life.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, I travel without ever seeing much of the places I visit. I’d like to change that. It’s not enough to be in the world, if I can’t witness it. I just don’t want to experience it alone.”
The room door creaked open.
“Second, I want to go home to a house that has someone in it.”
Well, he and Clint could take care of that.
Clint came over to the bed with three napkin-covered bowls and stared at Olivia.
“I’m sure I sound pathetic,” she said and put her glass to lips again.
Clint tore his attention from Olivia to look at Ken.
Say something, Clint. Tell her what you want.
Clint had a knack for surprises. Maybe this time, he’d have some magic for them.
Clint cleared his throat and eased to the side of the bed. He set one bowl on the nightstand, one on Ken’s lap, and passed one over to Olivia. “It’s a pretty deadly chocolate mousse. Ken hates chocolate, so he’ll pretend to be a gentleman and offer you his, then I’ll offer you mine, too, so you don’t think he likes you more than I do.”
There was his charming boy.
She grinned as she pulled the crisp, white cloth off the glass bowl. “I couldn’t dare let it go to waste. All those poor cocoa beans sacrificing themselves for my unrefined palate. I’d better make their short lives meaningful.” She slid the spoon between her lips then drew it out slowly. She turned toward the ceiling with a look of ecstasy. “Damn, I could get used to this.”
Ken wrapped his arm around her shoulders and grabbed his glass from the nightstand. “What, the mousse or the company?”
Clint turned his back and walked toward the balcony doors, as if he was afraid to hear her response.
“The company, silly.”
Clint stopped and turned. Relief brightened his eyes and flooded his cheeks.
She swirled the spoon through the mousse and crossed her legs at the ankles. “Of course, I’m not foolish enough to hold out hope that situations like this happen in real life. I’m too old for fairy tales, and that’s exactly what it would be.”
Ken opened his mouth to refute her statement, but the balcony doors slammed before he could get the words out. Clint was playing the pessimist, and Ken wanted more than anything to go out there and shake some cool into him. Something was really wrong if Ken was being the aggressive one, and he knew exactly what.
Clint was afraid he’d fuck this up.
Olivia nudged Ken’s ribs with her elbow. “Hey.”
“Hmm?”
“Do you two rent or own?”
“Own. We’ve got a house on two wooded acres and no close neighbors. Clint says he likes it that way, because no one can hear me scream.”
Her shoulders shook with laughter, and when she made the cutest snorting sound, he had to laugh, too.
It was such a silly thing. A stupid little joke, but she got why it was funny.
But of course, she would. She just fit, and there was nothing fairy tale about it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
At first, Olivia thought she was imagining the probing flicks between her thighs. That it was part of some far-too-sensual dream she didn’t want to wake up from. Then audacious fingers dug into them and spread her legs farther apart.
She was being licked again and again. A fast stream of air blew onto her wet pussy as a pair of thumbs parted her. It made her toes curl. Then she opened her eyes and nudged the sheets back to find a redhead lapping at her like a cat trying to get the last bit of cream.
Clint pushed her legs up onto his shoulders and went back to work circling his tongue around her clit.
“Good morning,” she said. Her voice came out sounding husky and unexercised, but really it was the combination of the early hour and her arousal.
“Mmm.” He rubbed his stubbly chin back and forth across her sex then flicked his tongue into her slit, where he sucked and kissed her.
She gasped and clamped her thighs against his head in an effort to push him back a couple of inches so she could catch her breath. She didn’t want to come already. She didn’t want to use up her one orgasm on oral, when she could have his enormous cock inside her.
“Wait,” she whispered and threaded her fingers through his hair. “Just wait.”
He stopped fucking her with his tongue long enough to say, “Want you,” and he went right back to work.
“Oh, no.” She put her head back and moaned then arched up off the bed. Ken was propped up on his side, staring at her.
She exhaled through her opened mouth and felt her face contorting into some grotesque thing as Clint slipped one finger, then another, inside her. He scissored them and never stopped sucking her, unhinging her.
She let go of his hair and instead grabbed at the sheets, where she scratched at them for purchase as a wordless keening noise escaped her throat.
“Is it good?” Ken asked. He rubbed sleepy eyes, and a smug grin pulled at his lips.
All she could do was moan.
She closed her eyes and tried to suppress the mounting orgasm. To think about anything beyond the tingles radiating up to her belly or the little shocks of pleasure-pain that made her tighten around Clint’s fingers every time he nipped at her clit.
No, no, no!
She couldn’t push it down, though. Couldn’t ignore all the sensation rippling through her.
“Fuck!” she pounded the sheets, and her toes cramped from her curling them.
She trembled as if she were freezing, and the sensation was further escalated by Ken’s pinch of her right nipple through her borrowed shirt.
“He wants you to come, Liv. Go ahead and come on his tongue, so we can all get back to sleep.”
“Y-you’re evil,” she said and managed to grab his wrist before he could reach back in for a second helping.
“I want to see you come, too. I want to see your face when he licks you off.”
“No,” she said then tried to close her legs and roll away from Clint, but he was too strong, and he knew she liked it too much. “I have to fly home today. If I’m going to come, I want cock.”
Ken chuckled and managed to dart his hand to her left nipple for a pinch. “I think he’s challenging you. He thinks he’s going to get more than one orgasm out of you.”
“N-not going to h-happen.”
Clint fluttered his fingertips against her G-spot, and she grabbed at his hair again before shrieking out her frustration.
She was so close. She was wound so tight, she feared she’d pop and combust.
Ken leaned in closer and put his mouth against her left ear. He tickled her lobe with the end of his labret spike. “Do you trust him?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. She didn’t know why, but she did.
“Then show him.” Ken’s cock grazed her belly through his boxer briefs as he shifted closer, and she grabbed it without thinking. Idly, she fondled the head and massaged while willing herself to stop fighting Clint’s pleasures.
He sucked, flicked, probed, and after a surprising swat to her vulva, she came, screaming, and possibly waking everyone on the floor, but she didn’t care.
Couldn’t care.
Ken groaned and eased her viselike grip away from his cock as Clint lifted the covers over his head. He crawled up the bed, his green eyes bright with hunger or anticipation. He lay down next to her and wordlessly pulled her on top of him.
For a
while, he just stared at her, saying nothing, as if he were trying to memorize her features.
It didn’t make her uncomfortable, exactly, but she would have paid handsomely to learn what was flitting through the enigmatic man’s mind. Did he regret going down on her, maybe decided he’d gotten his urges for feminine companionship out of his system?
He stroked her cheeks with his fingertips then skimmed his index finger along her jawline and down her neck. He paused at the collar of the shirt, where he fiddled with the button.
“You’re so pretty,” he said.
“I can’t take credit for that. You could tell it to my parents, if it’s really important to you.”
“Maybe I will someday.”
“Quit joking.”
He raised his shoulders in a small shrug and eased his hands down to her waist. “Are you ready?”
“What for?”
His fingers skimmed lower, and he lifted the back of the shirt from her ass. They lingered at her cleft, toying, tickling.
“For both of us.”
“Are you kidding? I probably won’t be able to feel anything. Why couldn’t we have done that last night? I didn’t need sleep that badly.”
“I always save the best for last. Come here.” He puckered his lips, and she bent to receive his gently probing kiss. He tasted of last night’s wine and of her, and if she wasn’t in her own head, she might have found the flavor on her tongue arousing.
Vaguely, she registered Ken moving off the bed and the bathroom light being switched on.
Clint pulled away and said, “I know you’re clean. We were all tested before coming here, but…are you on anything? Birth control?”
“I get a shot.”
“Is it okay if I…can I feel you, O? Please?”
“You mean, without a condom?”
“Yes. I want you to sit on my cock and milk it. I want to feel your warmth, your silkiness. Will you give me that?”
Olivia turned her head when she heard the sound of crinkling behind her. Ken removed the condom from the package and rolled it onto his beautiful, erect cock while holding a tube of lube between his teeth.
Clint turned her head back to him, gently but pointedly. Once she was looking at him, he moved his hands south and worked her buttons free.
