I’d never had the opportunity to have a good look at a penis, hard as that was to believe. In my early years, I hadn’t so much dated as messed around with a few guys. I was young, shy, and inexperienced. They wanted to get right to it. So, there’d been fumbling in dark cars, under blankets in beds. Once, while one of the guys pumped away with energy on a sofa bed, his girlfriend’s father had walked in. Thank God for the sheet covering us that day.
And then there was Greg. He, at least, pegged me for his trophy wife. Not that I was any kind of a looker. It probably had more to do with my willingness to obey and serve so married we were. Greg had always called the shots when it came to our sex life. Almost always, we did it in his favorite position, doggy style. Never once could I remember just lying around and exploring each other’s bodies. Not once. And why on earth I was wasting time on memories like these when this incredible specimen of a man lay before me, I’d never know.
Every muscle in me strained to touch that thick rope lying between Daniel’s thighs. “Daniel,” I whispered again. Nothing. I was lost completely in the moment. An overwhelming desire possessed me as I stripped down to my cammy and knickers. “Daniel.”
I walked to the other side of the bed and climbed on for a closer look. Daniel made a small sigh and turned his head so I could no longer see his eyes. No worries there, it wasn’t his eyes I was interested in, at least not at that moment. And he was asleep. Thank God.
Thick blue veins ran below his circumcised head. He’d wondered what I wanted from him? Well, I wanted to run my index finger along the long, thick length of his cock. I wanted to play with him until he was tied in knots and begging for release. I leaned over and lightly traced one of the dark-blue veins with my forefinger. His penis jerked. I froze, holding my breath, waiting for him to demand to know what the hell I was doing. Except he’d probably use stronger language that would mortify me. I’d never be able to look him in the eye again. He didn’t move. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I held.
Something deep within urged me on. I slowly reached over and took him in my hand. I watched him like a bird of prey waiting for the right moment to pounce. His semi-soft hardness swelled in my hand, thicker, harder, longer. I almost dropped it and ran, but my hidden parts were sending a different message. My juices soaked through my knickers. I closed my hand around his heat, barely able to touch my fingers to my thumb. Oh, my.
Suddenly, an irrational urge came over me. This was new, but I shoved all thoughts of the past from my mind. I pushed aside my doubts. This was now, and in my hand was a thing of beauty with a tiny drop of dew leaking from its head. I slipped my tongue past my lips and slowly licked the tiny crease holding that drop. Daniel shuddered.
I ran a circle around the crown, taking a moment to flick my tongue over where the ridge met in the back. Daniel groaned and tilted his hips toward me. I smiled inwardly as the knowledge of power started its climb toward awareness. I was exciting him, and I had control. My lips, my tongue, my mouth, they were pulling him toward rapture. I sank over the thickness of him, inhaling the scent of his arousal.
I loved how my mouth enveloped his shaft and held it there, savoring the taste of him. He tasted of heat and musk with just a hint of sweat. If this were my last meal, I’d die a happy woman. My eyes followed my hand as it trailed over his abdomen, now tight with desire, toward his chest. Only the rigid intensity of his body signaled his need. Inward smile. I would certainly change that. I would make him ache and moan and thrust and burst, just like he had me. It was my turn.
I spent several moments of eternity nuzzling, sucking, licking, and grazing, losing myself in the joy of giving pleasure. I looked up, startled to see those eyes, now the deep blue of the sea, gazing at me. He grabbed the sides of my head and held on gently. His breathing remained deep and even. I circled the base of his pulsing cock. His cock leaped to life as I drew him into my mouth. I would drag him into the pit of my passion or die trying.
Ever so slowly, I glided my lips over that magnificent shaft. His balls drew up, tight and firm, as I cupped them in my hand. I was in heaven having this opportunity to explore and exploit my partner’s pleasure. His low moan spurred me on to take him even deeper in my throat. I worked his penis, relishing the ache building in my cheeks. His moan turned into a groan, equally satisfying on a visceral level.
I decided to add my fingers to the equation and rolled them around the base of his…cock. Yes, I was enjoying the idea of thinking the word, cock. Daniel’s back arched and his hips thrust forward. Yes! This orgasm would be mine.
I slowed the pace and used my teeth to trace up and down that slick pole. Slow. Steady. Inch by inch. Up and down, I alternated teeth, tongue, and mouth, licking, flicking—my own personal ice cream cone. Daniel began thrashing beneath me. I kept the rhythm steady, like a metronome for a few more eternities. When his writhing spiraled out of control, I simply stopped, my warm mouth balm for his roiling torment. Then I started again. Slow and easy.
Daniel braced his arms against the bed, arched up, and started to thrust, almost dislodging me. I tightened the grip with my mouth and hand, matching his pace. A few hard thrusts and he broke. An ocean of his jism flooded down my throat. I held him captive with my mouth, savoring each muscular pulse of his cock. He lay panting as his slowly retreating erection slipped past my lips. I had done this. I had made him lose the iron fist of control he held himself in. Me. The little girl inside me was doing a huge happy dance.
He reached down and pulled me into his arms, planting a gentle kiss on top of my head. I almost burst into tears. It was such an incredibly simple sign of affection the like of which I’d never had before. It broke my heart I was so needy, and I vowed not to show him just how much I wanted his approval.
He opened his eyes and tipped my head so he could look into mine. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I looked into those startling blue eyes and saw humor and fondness…and something more. Something wary, a warning maybe. The shadow of the look a headmaster gives a recalcitrant student before reading the riot act.
“What wasn’t so hard?”
“Doing something sexual that you wanted to do. I presume you gave me a BJ because you wanted to?”
This time I turned the color purple and fervently prayed this would be the worst of the true confessions I’d have to make. I was soon to find out how wrong I could be.
Chapter 14
Daniel
The days slid by in a blink of moments that lasted an eternity, each one taking me closer to the abyss. I’d only ever told one woman I loved her, and that had taken me years to say. Then I’d vowed never to say it again. This time, it had hit me like a bright, searing flash of lightning—lethal yet utterly unable to ignore. I was falling in love with Logan. I was drawn to her like a bee to an exotic flower.
I wanted the truth of her body. I wanted her sex to be mine.
“We need to talk.” I lay on my side facing her, running a finger under the curve of her breast.
Now?
“Yes, right now.”
She stared at me, her thoughts so loud, I could hear them.
“Logan, my dear woman, able to hide your thoughts you are not.” Good grief, I couldn’t sound any more like Yoda if I tried. She smiled.
“Okay, talk.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay, so I know I told you I’m falling in like with you, and I am, but I don’t want that to scare you. I realize you have conflicted feelings about Greg, and I’m not asking you to change that. I just want you to know I care for you deeply, but what we have isn’t about love. It’s about sex and maybe friendship, nothing more. Love only complicates things.”
“I’m not looking for love, Daniel. Sex and friendship are just fine with me.” She reached up and stroked my face. “You’re a good man, and I don’t want to hurt you. So let’s be clear from the get go. I like you, in fact, I’m starting to like you a lot.” She blushed crimson. “You should know I’m somewhat inexperienced, and
I’d like to change that. I want to be with you, but that’s as far as it goes. If you’re looking for more than an affair, then this stops right here.”
I rolled over and stared at the ceiling. The hand playing with the hairs on my chest stilled…but she didn’t move it. I took that to be a good sign.
Could I enjoy sex with her and nothing else? Could I rein in my feelings for her? I wanted it to be true, but I had my doubts. One thing I was certain about…I didn’t want to lose her. And maybe, just maybe, if we played things her way, she’d have a change of heart. Did I want that? Who was I kidding? I could smell the hope radiating off me. Stop… Don’t go there!
Using my best-controlled courtroom demeanor to hide my confusion, I stood up and stretched. “I think I’d better see about supper. I’m going to surprise you, so stay out of my kitchen, deal?”
I fled to the kitchen. I felt like a teenager unsure of how to react after a first date. How does one respond to the love of your life when she dangles a carrot? How do you respond when that carrot has strings?
While the storm raged on outside, the sun peeked over the horizon of my life. I could do this. After all, I didn’t expect to share my life with anyone. So then why did those words—I’m not looking for love, Daniel—thrust a spear into my very core. I’d never expected to find someone to share my life with…or my perverse passions. Now Logan dropped into my life letting in a sliver of light that made that improbability possible. And if I didn’t step into the possibility, there was no chance of it becoming a probability.
I funneled my fear and frustration into putting together a delicious meal from the fixings in the pantry and freezer, the kind of meal that would knock her right out of those knickers she was growing so fond of calling her underpants. Baked coconut shrimp with a sweet and spicy dipping sauce. Chili lime steak with roasted vegetables and lemon-garlic angel-hair pasta. Perhaps a chocolate mousse for dessert. And, of course, the right wine for each course.
One of the few things I had to thank my ex, Justine Pearson, for was the gourmet cooking classes we’d taken together. Thanks to them, I was a fairly decent cook. After doing the mise en place, I took a tour through the wine cellar. I was thrilled to find a 1992 Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon for the shrimp and a Masi Masianco to pair with the steak. After some reflection, I settled on another bottle of the Cab Sauv for the dessert wine. That would probably be more than enough wine for the two of us, but it never hurt to be well prepared.
I found myself whistling as I chopped and stirred, although I had no idea why. I’d probably pissed Logan right off by running out yet again. But, then again, I hoped that the anticipation of sizzling sex was enough to drive any negative thoughts about my unique sexual preferences right out of her mind. As it should mine. These things couldn’t be rushed. This evening would probably be a make or break for us. I needed to think of something that would blow all thoughts of Greg right out of her body and mind. Not that he sounded like the best lover on the planet. Catty, Daniel.
While the vegetables roasted and the steak marinated, I took a quick shower and shaved. In keeping with the times, I chose a soft cotton Polo shirt and a fine wool pant from the wardrobe in my bedroom, amazed that each piece fit me perfectly. I added a splash of a cologne called Dunhill for Men.
By the time I’d finished cooking dinner and setting the table near the fireplace, I had set my plan for the evening complete with a contingency if Logan wasn’t into Plan A. Fail to plan and plan to fail, that was my motto. Now it was time to find out just what made Logan slick. I couldn’t wait to find out. Showtime.
Logan waited for me in the library. She’d changed into a soft peach satin gown with lace and something sheer that must be what they called chiffon. Her voluptuous breasts swelled into the lace that framed a slit that fell where they met. The slit beckoned me to slide a finger between her perfectly formed globes. With a sigh, I resisted and brushed her bare arm instead.
“You look amazing.”
She looked up at me with a shy smile. “So do you.”
I reached for her hand, my eyes never leaving her. “Dinner’s ready. I hope you’re hungry.”
“I’m starving.”
“Then let’s eat.”
Tucking her arm in the crook of mine, I led her to the great room. The brush of her silk gown against my forearm and the heat of her skin made my blood boil. I held her chair for her and with an elaborate flourish, spread the linen napkin across her lap.
This night was about making her discover just how truly special she was. She might not fall in love with me, but she sure as hell wouldn’t be satisfied with the Greg’s of the world once I finished with her.
One word sprang to mind as I watched Logan tuck into the shrimp—zeal. Surprising. I’d only ever seen her eat like some duchess at a state dinner, one tiny bite at a time. It was like the shields had come down, and I caught a glimpse of who she truly was. I liked her true essence. We chatted about inconsequentials, avoiding the obvious. I'd come to realize she chattered to cover her nervousness. I wanted her relaxed. I wanted her.
We’d moved on to the steak. Moans of satisfaction accompanied each taste.
“Superb.” She waved her fork in the air. Animated. There was no other word to describe her. Enticing. Exotic. Erotic. Okay, maybe a few.
“I know.” She tilted her head to the side, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s play twenty questions.” She continued to wave her fork in the air between robust bites.
“You want to play a game?” Now, if she wanted to play a game, I was going to play a game. I had entered another world. The surreal that was Logan and this house. She was like the sun peeking over the horizon, and if I waited for just the right moment, her brilliance would rise and envelop me. The house was a gateway to hope, and indeed temptation.
She took another bite of her steak, looking at me steadily as she relished my superb cuisine. I couldn’t help but enjoy her uninhibited enthusiasm. I was the one making her smile as if she discovered a life she had once longed for but never thought possible.
She continued to gaze at me as if I was a mountain-fed spring she’d found after a long drought. She took a sip of wine. “You do know how to play, don’t you?”
“I could probably guess, but why don’t you tell me.”
She sat forward on her chair. The air practically bristled with her eagerness. “You ask me anything you want, and I have to answer immediately without thinking, without pausing, then follow with my question.”
“Anything?”
“Anything. Okay, you start.”
“Oh no. Ladies first.” Not a chance I was going to give her the advantage. There was too much of the lawyer in me for that. Always stalk your prey. I had the sneaking suspicion that this prey would give as good as she got.
“First lover?”
“Sally Jorgensen. Yours?”
“Rick Ellis. First hard-on?”
“Six—”
She burst out laughing. “You were not.”
“I was so. I was probably two, but I can’t remember back that far. Favorite position?”
“I’ve only ever done two, so that’s not a fair question. Have you ever been in love?”
My heart stumbled a beat. This was not a path I wanted to go down.
“Yes. Best lover?”
She paused a beat. “I don’t think I’ve had one.” She took another sip of her wine. “Longest you’ve made love?”
I leaned over and ran my finger down one of those exquisite arms. “I’ve fucked all night. And you?”
Another one of those endearing blushes. “I mean in one session.”
I leaned back watching the wine I swirled in my glass. “I don’t keep track.”
“Come on. Now you’re deliberately evasive. You do know, and you’re just not saying.”
The damned woman was like a dog with a bone.
“Maybe a couple of hours. And you?”
“Maybe a couple of minutes.”
I leane
d forward again. “No, really?”
She leaned in. “Really.”
“Well, we’re going to change that.”
“When?”
“When would you like?”
The bravado fled, just like that, and she dropped her eyes. I tipped her head and grazed those luscious lips. Lips like ripe strawberries, plump with the heat of her desire. I caressed the side of her face. Fine veins lined her closed lids, lids as fragile as hummingbird eggs.
“What would you like?”
She was quiet for so long I thought I’d lost her.
“Anais liked to be forced.”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard her and waited for my brain to catch up with the racing pulse in my cock.
“And what do you like?”
This time the pause was so long I almost pulled back, almost reacted. Instead, I held steady, breathing in the scent of her excitement, her conflict, and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Something dark, something pulsing with danger. Erotic, but dangerous. Something I wanted to explore. So I held my breath and waited.
“Okay, fine. I want you to force me.” She blurted it out like she was ridding herself of a bad taste.
Force her? What the hell did that mean? This woman was just full of surprises.
“Why do you want me to force you?”
“I just think it would be fun.” The sunrise flush of her skin deepened to a shimmering afterglow. She looked at the table. I tipped her head and looked into eyes now midnight with desire.
I added pressure to the fingers framing her chin. “What’s the real reason?”
She studied me for a beat before dropping her lashes. “I don’t want to think.” She lifted her eyes and gave a timid little smile. She thought she’d made the great confession, one that was enough to get her off the hook. Wrong.
She got up and placed her wine on the mantel. I followed and turned her to face me, leaving my hands on her shoulders.
Ticket to Temptation Page 11
