by Lindsey Hart
“And do you?” He said hotly against her ear. “Do you want me to leave?” His finger pushed forward, dangerously close to dipping inside of her. June gasped. “Because if you do, your body is a really, really good liar.”
She needed to say yes. She opened her mouth, sure the words were there. “No,” she panted. “No, I don’t want you to leave.” Damn it! Damn him! He’d put some kind of spell on her tongue. On her body. On… on everything.
Well, two could play at that game. He let out a low, sensual laugh right by her ear, and slipped his finger inside of her. She gasped at the fullness. He stroked her gently, slowly, torturing her.
Her hand snaked out and she gripped his cock. He let out a loud hiss of surprise as her fingers closed over his shaft. She closed her eyes and kept her face turned away, so he couldn’t see her amazement at just how thick he was. God, he was huge. She hadn’t exactly stolen a glance when he’d stripped his clothes off. Now, she wished she had.
His cock jerked hard in her hand and when she stroked him, a shiver ran through his body. A sense of power surged through her, until his finger moved inside of her, banishing her ability to think.
“You have amazing hands,” Brock mumbled into the crook of her neck. He bent his head and suckled her skin there, probably leaving marks in his wake.
“You have amazing hands too,” she whimpered stupidly, too turned on to be embarrassed at her frank statement.
He laughed softly, a short, hard burst. “I like the way you touch me. Like you already own me.”
Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh my goooooddddd. While his finger was still inside of her, Brock started to do other, wondrous things with the ones that weren’t. He circled her clit gently and shards of pleasure ripped through her. The hot spray of the shower was delicious against her skin. Her hips bucked forward into Brock’s touch.
“You asked if I had a bent dick, I believe,” he said huskily. “Does this answer your question?”
“Yes,” she moaned, her voice husky and unrecognizable.
His hand closed over hers. He guided her, pumping his cock with her tight fist. His hips bucked into her touch and he groaned. “I want to taste you, June. Before you undo me completely.”
He didn’t give her time to decide otherwise. He pulled out of her hand and fell to his knees in front of her, and holy shit, seeing him there down on the stone, staring up at her with eyes that had turned completely smoky and stormy, was an image she’d have ingrained in her brain for a very, very long time.
CHAPTER 12
Brock
He wasn’t sure how he’d taken things this far. He didn’t actually think June would give him a chance in hell to ever see her naked, and there he was, staring at her perfect body. God, she was exquisite, a rare creature. Her beauty was beyond comparison. Her smooth, creamy skin cried out for his touch. He wanted to mark her, to leave his bites all over her. Her dusky nipples cried out for his mouth. Her flat stomach flared into a set of beautiful hips and shapely legs. And lord, what was between those legs was sweet, ripe, utter perfection.
She was perfectly shaved and smooth. “Oh my god,” he exhaled as he fell to his knees. Her hands tangled in the long strands of his hair. His parents were always on him to get it cut, and he was fucking thankful, at the moment, that he’d left it. He loved feeling her fingers there, pulling just a little too hard, the pinpricks of pain racing over his scalp sending a zip of pleasure right to his already aching cock.
He parted her legs with his hand. He ran his palm up the smooth creamy skin of her thigh before he got to her perfect pussy. She was already wet, so wet and slick and not because the shower was running over that glorious body either.
No, she was wet for him. He hadn’t been imagining those heavy-lidded stares. He certainly hadn’t been imagining her looking at his ass. He’d picked those jeans for a reason. Because he knew they looked good on. He could wage war in more than one way.
He couldn’t wait. June dug her nails into his scalp as he tasted her. He wasn’t gentle. He wanted all of her. He wanted to worship her, to scrape his teeth over her, to bite her. He moderated that a little, toned it down and stuck to flicking his tongue over her, to tasting her, to letting her sweet juices run down his throat.
Holy shit. She was so far beyond perfect it nearly slew him. The best part- he was going to remember this. He knew she’d taste sweet, but he had no idea how sweet. He was the one plunging his tongue into her and yet he was also the one seeing stars.
June’s back hit the stone. She let it hold her up. She tugged on his hair and let him do whatever the hell he pleased.
He took his time with her, exploring her folds before he brought his tongue to her entrance. He teased her a little first until a loud whimper was torn from her throat. He plunged in since it was such a pretty whimper. Her hips slammed into his face in appreciation of his efforts. He moaned against her as he pulled out. He twirled his tongue over her, exploring, savoring, plundering until she was moaning and writhing against him.
“Please,” she begged.
Of course, he knew what that meant. “Please, what?” he had to ask because he was a bastard.
“I want to come,” June mewled.
He grinned wickedly up at her and when he did, her eyes opened. She stared down at him, those emerald green orbs so heady and sexed-up it nearly made him shoot his load right there. His cock kicked painfully as she bit down on her bottom lip. God, he craved her. He craved her like he’d never wanted another person before.
He realized how dangerous that was. How this wasn’t just simply about him getting her off in the shower. It wasn’t just about him making her feel good.
He wanted to do so much more. He wanted to mark her. To claim her. To make her undeniably his. To convince her that she should be in his life. Even if suddenly that felt… it felt a whole lot less safe than it had before.
He couldn’t be married to her and not want this with her all the time. He wasn’t sure if love was possible, but this was. This- whatever it was, the connection they had going on at the moment, the way he’d thought about her all day, the way he’d barely restrained himself from putting his hands on her and kissing her breathless… that was real.
“You want to come, or you want me to make you come?” he growled, snapping out of his thoughts. His thumb circled her clit and she ground into his touch, trying to take from him what she needed most. He moved his thumb away with a feral growl and slid his finger inside of her. She was so impossibly hot, so slick, so tight.
“Yes, I want you to make me come,” she gasped as he moved his finger inside of her.
“How? Do you want my finger? My fingers? My mouth? My tongue? My cock?”
“Oh god.” June ground into him. He realized, as she tilted her face up and closed her eyes, just how badly she wanted him. How much she ached for him. That makes two of us. “What if I want it all?”
Her lusty words nearly sent him right over the edge. He jammed his eyes closed and stood up abruptly. He wrapped his arms around June and slammed her into him. His mouth claimed hers, hard, with all the carnal lust raging inside of him. He kissed her like he’d give his soul to do it. And she kissed him right back. Their mouths went to war, while their bodies ground against each other. He had no condom and he had no idea if she was on the pill. He wasn’t going to take chances, though she probably would have told him if she wasn’t.
He ground his pelvis hard against her. She shifted until the head of his cock was right between her smooth, slick folds. She mewled and whimpered, ground and writhed against him. He’d never felt anything more wanton or heavenly. Just rubbing against her like some sexed-up teenager was almost as good as the real thing.
Apparently, June thought so too. She was so close. He could tell by the tension in her muscles, the shivers that raced up her, the way she clung to his neck, digging her fingers into his back like she was holding herself up by it. He could tell by her raspy breaths in his ear, her frantic little moans.
He reached between them and pinched her clit and she shattered into a million pieces. She actually screamed. Screamed something, though it wasn’t his name. It wasn’t words at all. Her hips went wild, rocking and jerking against his cock.
Which of course pulled an explosive climax from him. Literally. He exploded over her in hot jets, across her stomach. He came so hard his balls nearly pulled up into his throat. His guts clenched, and his lungs imploded. He came until he wondered if he’ll ever have anything left to make it happen again. His balls actually felt sore. He felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach and chest, and maybe in the face for good measure.
He’d never felt anything even close to that. Something so painful and erotic it was thrilling and terrifying. He might as well have been a sixteen-year-old kid again because when June opened her eyes and gave him a shy smile and moved into the shower to wash away what he’d just done, he nearly came undone again.
He reached silently for the shampoo bottle and began to lather June’s hair. Surprisingly, she let him.
Because he had to be good, to get out of that shower sometime, a shower that didn’t even belong to them, embarrassingly enough, and get June back to her friends, he stuck to her hair. There was no soaping those glorious breasts or running his hands between her legs.
When she rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, he let her. He soaped his own hair, washed himself, shut off the shower, and got out.
June was no longer looking at him. She threw him a towel but didn’t turn around.
When she cracked the door to look for the promised clothes, he wasn’t sure if the emotion he saw on her face, fleetingly, before she turned, was regret or something else entirely.
CHAPTER 13
June
Back at the hotel, June learned first-hand that rock bottom had a new meaning. One in which she completely lost her self-control and simultaneously jacked off a man who was little more than a stranger, but who just happened to be her husband, while he got her rocks off, in a private shower, owned by a woman she didn’t know, but who had been ridiculously kind to them.
To top it off, her two besties had been bursting at the seams all through dinner when she and Brock made a damn appearance together after reaching said rock bottom. Sally and her staff did the best they could to make up for the ruined ride, which was obviously cut short by the rain. The food was excellent and one of the staff members, a woman who was about twenty-five, brought out her guitar and played songs she’d written herself. She was amazing and had the voice of an angel.
It would have been a great time if it hadn’t been for the fact that Mandy and Jaz kept sending her looks. Looks that said they wanted all the juicy details in all their grizzly gore. They squirmed all the way home in the truck and as soon as they burst into the hotel room, June knew their hour and a half to get ready for the show was going to be spent trying to withstand their onslaught of trying to pry details from her that she didn’t want to share.
“Oh my god, you have to tell us where you went. You disappeared for like, an hour!” Jaz started in as soon as the door shut behind them.
June sighed. She walked into the room, flung her jacket and sweater off onto the bed and began to rummage in her suitcase for something that was minimally wrinkled. She wanted classy, not slutty. She’d packed for Vegas though, and not many of her dresses went longer than thigh length.
“Do you have anything I can borrow for the show? None of these dresses are right and I can’t exactly wear jeans.”
“No!” Jaz nearly screamed. “You have to answer my question!”
Mandy was much smoother. “You can borrow one of my dresses,” she said coyly. “If you tell us what happened with you and Mr. Hottie Pants.”
“Oh. My. God. You did not just call him that.” June groaned. This was going to be so much worse than she thought.
“Oh, I did, and I’ll do it again,” Mandy said far too proudly.
“He is a Hottie Pants,” Jaz insisted. Like god, did you see his ass in those jeans? It was even better when they were wet. Good enough to lick.”
“Oh, for god sakes.”
“His ass probably has its own hashtag,” Mandy said dreamily.
“You went to have a shower at Sally’s house. She told us that. But did you have one together?” Jaz pressed for details like it was a matter of life or death that she gets them. She had that far-away look in her eyes, the sparkle a single woman gets when their ovaries have just spontaneously combusted. Or their panties caught on fire. Mandy and Jaz both had that panty burning look on their faces. The smoke coming out of their pants practically filled up the room.
“If you had a shower with him, you might as well just stay married,” Mandy said in a tone that was completely matter of fact. “You’ll be ruined for anyone else after that experience.”
“Did he have butt dimples?” Jaz chimed in. “Please tell me he had butt dimples. With an ass like that, he had to.”
June barely managed to repress a groan. The truth was, she knew Mandy was right. She did feel ruined for anyone else. Brock’s ass did indeed deserve its own hashtag. His body was in another zip code altogether. Her only regret was that she’d been so shy and shocked at the beginning of the shower, she really hadn’t taken the time to take him all in. By the time they got warmed up, her brain wasn’t exactly functioning correctly. She was so preoccupied with covering herself up after, trying to muster up the will to regret what she’d just done, she hadn’t taken a visual either.
All in all, she hadn’t taken the time to properly worship Brock, to take mental snapshots that she could go over later when she was alone and burning up. Unfortunately, that was the only part she could bring herself to have regrets about.
“So… are you going to tell us?” Jaz stood, hands clasped in front of her, eagerly waiting. Mandy leaned in, hanging on every single word.
“Geez, you guys are a broken record.” There wasn’t as much heat behind her words as June would have liked.
“We can’t help it. We want details. We have to live through you. We’re never going to be able to find a man like that for ourselves.”
“Yeah, the best date I had last year was like a four out of ten and that guy is off the charts. As in, like, a hundred.”
“A million.”
“A billion.”
“Infinity.”
“Oh my god.” June threw her hands up in the air. “I can’t take this.” She pulled a straightener out of her suitcase and stalked to the bathroom. She plugged it in and turned it on, ready to tackle the disaster of her hair. “We don’t have that much time to get ready. You guys better get dressed.”
“I can’t believe he’s taking us to a show,” Mandy said, that dreamy tone back in her voice. “Is he rich?”
“I have no idea. Should that matter?”
“Nope.” Jaz popped her head into the bathroom doorway. “It’s just that he rented out that whole ranch for us and he’s taking us to a show. His rental truck was nice. Did he have a nice hotel room? Like a suite? I think he’s loaded. You got married to a hottie and a rich hottie at that.”
“Can I have some of whatever you drank that night? Please point me in the direction of that poker room so I can make some magic happen for myself,” Mandy sighed.
“I don’t know if he’s rich. I don’t care. It’s not like I’m going to stay married,” June grumbled.
“You’re not?” Jaz’s mouth dropped open.
“Yeah, why not?” Mandy backed up Jaz. “He’s sexy, like god-like sexy, off the charts hot. He’s obviously packing, he has money, he’s nice, he’s charming, he’s… god, he’d make the most beautiful babies.”
June held her breath so she couldn’t smell the panties literally melting off her friends. They were going to be useless piles of goo by the end of the night and it was clear they weren’t on her side. Worse, everything they said was true. Brock was slowly winning her over and it had been less than twenty-four hours since they got married.
&n
bsp; “Would it really hurt to give him a chance?” Jaz asked innocently. “He’s sexy, but he’s also nice. All the guys you date are assholes. Even from the start. They’re all wrong for you. It’s like you’re attracted to men who are completely inappropriate so you don’t have to actually care.”
June froze. Mandy’s eyes went wide. Jaz slapped a hand over her mouth. As if her humiliation wasn’t enough for the day, hell as if her past wasn’t enough humiliation for a lifetime, Jaz had to go and hit the nail right on the head.
Is that what I do? Is that what I’ve done? Look for someone who is wrong? Who is only going to hurt me so I don’t really have to get invested?
June whirled and her friends backed up. She slammed the door and locked it. She leaned on the solid frame for a minute, trying to catch her breath.
When Chris cheated on her, she saw it coming. She was basically pulling out of the relationship anyway since she’d been done with it for so long. When it happened with Shane, they weren’t even living together. When Rob left her for a dude, that was humiliating, but as for hurt? God, she couldn’t bring herself to actually, truly say she was heartbroken.
The truth was, she liked dating. She liked being in a relationship since it meant having someone there in some capacity. Someone who was supposed to care. Did she use those guys as a sort of security blanket since she wasn’t really ready to settle down? Guys that she knew probably wouldn’t work out?
It was a simple equation. Chemistry leads to feelings which lead to caring which may or may not turn into love, but either way, it opens a person to a world of hurt. No chemistry meant no deep feelings, meant no hurt.
