by Claire Kent
Who knew how often Greg’s daughter had opened this refrigerator door and peered inside, just like Victoria was doing now.
When she heard a sound behind her, she gasped and whirled around.
“What?” Greg demanded, frowning at her. His hair was still damp, and he was wearing a pair of black sweat pants riding low on his lean hips. “You look like you were expecting a burglar.”
“Sorry. I thought you were still in the shower.” Victoria flushed a little and turned back around to stare into the refrigerator again.
When his arm twined around her from behind, she stiffened.
“Why are you so uptight?”
He sounded completely relaxed and comfortable—as if he had no worries in the world. As if he weren’t uncertain about their relationship the way she was. As if it didn’t matter to him that she was here in the kitchen of his house. As if it weren’t an intrusion into his domestic world.
Irrationally, his relaxed attitude annoyed Victoria. He clearly had no idea how she was feeling. Scowling, she pulled out of his grasp and poured herself a glass of orange juice.
“Victoria, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m starving. Do you have anything to eat?”
“I can make waffles.” He grabbed a big bowl from the baker’s rack and walked by her to put it on the counter. As he did, he gave the back of her camisole a teasing tug down. It had been riding up, exposing a strip of skin around her middle, where her top didn’t quite reach her matching shorts.
“Waffles would be good.” She smiled at him, feeling bad for being so grumpy. It wasn’t his fault she was so on edge. She reminded herself that his daughter was out of town for the weekend, and they had the house to themselves. “Do you want some orange juice?”
“Sure.” He lazily started mixing ingredients, looking adorably incongruous doing such a domestic chore. He was so masculine, with his broad shoulders, strong back, and the darkly shadowed lower half of his face. It seemed impossible that he’d be making her waffles.
“You need to shave.”
His eyebrows lifted suggestively. “I thought maybe you like it when I don’t.”
Wrinkling her nose, she lied, “As if I’d like to feel like you’re taking sandpaper to my poor skin.”
His lips twitched knowingly. “Right.”
Since he was looking far too smug, she sniffed, “You’ve got flour on your chest.”
He glanced down and shrugged.
Putting down her glass with a giggle, she went over and brushed it off for him. Her fingers ran over the hair on his chest. She’d always thought she’d prefer artificially smooth male chests, but she’d been crazy. Nothing was sexier than this course, dark hair. It wasn’t too thick or unsightly. Just enough to add the most enticing kind of texture to the smooth planes and rippled muscles.
“I think you got it,” Greg murmured, his voice a little thicker than normal. He’d almost stopped stirring the batter.
“Right.” Her hand lingered on his chest, her fingers irresistibly drawn to the rough feel of him. Her gaze drifted up to his face, but his eyes were so hot and intense she turned immediately away, looking out the window over the kitchen sink.
The window looked out over the large side yard, where Victoria caught sight of a man peering in their direction.
She squeaked in alarm and ducked out of sight before she had time to process the reflex.
“What the fuck?” Greg glanced out the window and added, “That’s just the gardener. What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I just saw him and reacted. I didn’t think you’d want anyone to see me here or anything…”
Greg pulled her hands down so he could look her in the eyes. “You’re being absurd. Yes, for a lot of reasons it’s been easier to keep this thing discreet. But I didn’t sneak you here in the trunk of my car. You can relax.”
“Yeah.” She mentally shook herself off and told herself to stop acting like a fool. “I guess I’m still a little anxious,” she admitted, “After…”
“I know.” He went back to stirring the waffle batter. “But it’s just us this weekend. I thought we were having a good time.”
“We were.” She tugged her tank top down toward her shorts again. Then she slanted him a teasing look. “I think I was admiring your chest hair.”
His warm chuckle in response made Victoria feel rather tingly.
They ate waffles, fruit, and hot chocolate and sat around for a long time talking about books they both had read. Victoria lost track of time and was shocked to see it was after two o’clock when she got up to put the dishes in the sink.
She felt his eyes on her from behind and hoped she didn’t look too unappealing. Her hair was falling messily over her back and shoulders and her little cotton shorts—part of the slate blue pajama set that had taken far too much out of her last paycheck—were riding up a little. She wished her legs were longer and slimmer. And she was worried about what the back of her thighs looked like.
She turned around, knowing her breasts were good and hoping that would cover for any other physical flaws.
His eyes were crawling over her body possessively, and he didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with what he was seeing.
“Are you horny again already? I thought men slowed down in their forties.”
He frowned at her disapprovingly. “If you weren’t interested in my horniness, you shouldn’t tempt me by going around wearing next to nothing and looking so incredibly sexy.”
She had to bite off her instinctive response, which had been to squeak, “Really?” Instead, she laughed as she rinsed off their dishes. “You’re crazy. I’m a mess.”
“Did you want to take a shower?”
She would have been offended except she could tell he mostly wanted to invite himself into the shower with her.
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty comfortable like this. I was actually thinking I might go back to bed.”
She felt more secure in bed, and she certainly wasn’t going to object to any more of the horniness he’d alluded to before.
Greg seemed quite pleased with this decision, and they headed back to the bedroom. They had a playful scuffle as he tried to take her clothes off while she made a pretense at resisting.
He swung her into bed and lowered himself over her, holding her in place as he kissed her. She moaned deep in her throat and gave up her lighthearted struggle. He’d pinned down her arms so she couldn’t get them around him, so she wrapped her legs around him instead.
“Oh, baby,” he murmured, still nipping at her lips. “So good. So sweet.”
She whimpered as she rocked her groin against him, feeling him start to harden against her.
She loved how heavy he was on top of her, loved how hot he became—like he was burning with some kind of inward intensity.
She squeezed her thighs around his hips, holding him as tightly as she could. When he kissed her again, she opened under the pressure of his mouth. His tongue slid against hers with possessive insistence, and she could still taste chocolate on his lips.
Then the phone rang, and she jerked in surprise.
With a frustrated groan, Greg released her mouth and rolled over to check his phone.
Evidently it was someone important. He murmured, “Sorry,” and picked it up.
At least he didn’t leave the room.
Victoria turned over so that her back was to him and tried not to listen to the one-sided conversation that clearly had something to do with his work.
She curled in on herself and told herself not to overreact. It was no big deal. Just a phone call. But it felt like yet another sign of how much of a life Greg possessed—a life that had nothing to do with her.
It shouldn’t matter. They were just having sex.
But she couldn’t stop dwelling on it.
When he hung up, she felt him roll over and stare at her back.
“You got tense again.” It was a statement. His tone was matt
er-of-fact and resigned.
“No, I didn’t,” she lied. “I was just waiting for you to hang up.” She made herself turn over onto her back and smile at him.
“Sorry. I had to take it.”
“It’s fine.”
He shook his head, clearly not believing her. “Flip over.”
She gaped at him. “What?”
“Flip over.” His mouth twitched slightly at her baffled expression. “Onto your stomach.”
She frowned as she did as he instructed. “I might have been a little uptight, but I don’t deserve a spanking.”
He chuckled as he pulled himself up to sit beside her. “We’ll save that for later.”
Before she could respond, she felt his strong hands on her shoulders. She sucked in a breath as he began to knead her tight muscles.
“You don’t have to do that.” Her words weren’t particularly convincing because they were followed by a hoarse moan of pleasure when he found a particularly tense muscle at the back of her neck and pushed into it with his thumbs.
He ignored her, concentrating on the massage as he skillfully worked over her neck and upper back. Soon she felt limp and boneless and she couldn’t hold back the most ridiculous groans of gratification as her body relaxed under his skillful hands.
“That’s good,” she said thickly, when she started to feel guilty about taking advantage of his generosity. “I’m okay now—Oh God!”
His strong fingers had moved down to the small of her back, and he gave that area the same attention he’d given the upper part. “Good?” She didn’t have the energy to lift her head to look, but she could hear a smug smile in his voice.
She didn’t care. She’d never had a massage like this in her life. Her body felt like it was melting into the mattress.
He pushed up the bottom edge of her tank top so he could work over her bare flesh. And she didn’t object when he gently pulled her soft shorts down over her hips and ass and then slid them off her legs completely.
He kneaded the muscles of her bottom and upper thighs and the sensual pleasure deepened into a vague ache below her belly.
Greg massaged his way down to her ankles and then took each foot in turn, pressing into the ball and the arch with such skillful pressure she moaned in helpless response. Waves of relaxation washed over her body with a deeper pleasure swelling up at its heels. “So good. Yeah, right there. Oh God!”
“Turn over,” he said at last, releasing her foot. It dropped to the mattress with a flop, since she didn’t have the energy to hold it up on her own.
She turned over obediently, not even self-conscious even though she was naked except for her tank top.
Greg massaged the muscles on the upper side of her thighs until he’d reached her pelvis.
She saw him staring down at her groin—at the trimmed strip of hair and the folds of flesh that hid her pussy. But he didn’t touch her there. Just pushed up her top until she’d raised her arms to let him pull it off.
The massage had shifted into something different when he began to knead the soft, heavy swells of her breasts. She was still moaning—low and hoarse—but it was as much from the pulsing of her growing arousal as it was from the delicious softening of her muscles.
He took his time, alternating between squeezing and brushing the stiff peaks of her nipples with the hard texture of his hand.
She was wet now. Her eyes were clenched shut, and she couldn’t keep from arching up into his hands.
“Greg!” she gasped at last, the one word almost a plea.
He let go of her breasts and moved back down her body, finally reaching the place he’d passed over before. He nudged her thighs apart and she spread them for him willingly. He slid his fingertips along the warm, swollen flesh, exposing her pussy to his view.
Victoria bent her arms up beside her head, hiding her face against her shoulder.
She let out a shuddering breath when he slid two of his fingers into her slippery pussy, massaging her inner walls with the same attention he’d given the rest of her.
One of her legs bent up with a jerk, and she huffed out a sound of pleasure.
“Mm,” she gasped, trying not to jerk her hips against his hand. “My clit. I need…”
His thumb closed down on her aching clit, and her whole body tightened in response.
“Oh baby,” Greg rasped, “You’re so gorgeous.”
Her orgasm was so close she wanted to claw at the bed, but she managed to choke out, “Liar.”
He chuckled—but his voice sounded rather strained as he said, “Don’t force it, baby. Take a deep breath.” His fingers pumped inside her, and his thumb slowly rubbed circles over her clit.
She had no idea why he was telling her that, but she was too far gone to argue. She forced herself to take a deep breath and felt the pleasure surging forward as she exhaled.
“God!” she cried out on her next inhale, managing to release another slow breath.
This time her climax spiraled up so hard she felt her vision darken. She choked on the spasms of pleasure as her pussy clenched ruthlessly around Greg’s fingers.
He sustained his massage until the last of her contractions faded.
Victoria’s body went limp as she desperately tried to catch her breath, and she lay in a debauched, sated, naked sprawl.
“Wow!”
Greg gave a huff of amusement and stretched out beside her, propped up on a couple of pillows. “Not bad, huh?”
“Wow,” Victoria said again, staring up blankly at the ceiling. “Why didn’t I know to breathe like that before? How did you get so good at this?”
“I must be naturally talented.” His voice was dry and amused.
She looked over at him. Despite his tone, there was a sheen of perspiration on his forehead, and she could see his erection through the loose fabric of his sweat pants.
She gave him a naughty smile and hauled her relaxed body up until she was able to grab at his waistband. “Now it’s your turn. I’ll have you know I’m pretty talented myself.”
He opened his mouth to respond but was distracted by her pulling down his pants. She made short work of them, tossing them over the side of the bed. Then she positioned herself between his legs and slid her hands up his thighs.
His cock was fully erect, leaning up toward his lower belly. She took it in her hands, sliding her fingers along the warm, firm flesh.
He let out a husky groan that hitched in his throat when she lowered her mouth to lick a line up the shaft. She teased him for a minute—flicking her tongue along the head, gently squeezing his balls, following one of the veins with her lips—until his thighs and belly were visibly tense and he was clenching his fingers in the bedding.
Then she took him fully in her mouth, wrapping her fingers around the base of his cock and squeezing to match the suction of her mouth. Every time she hollowed out her cheeks, she felt him make an involuntary thrust up.
His visceral reaction was exhilarating, and a new arousal started to throb between her legs.
“Yes,” Greg hissed, one of his hands moving to tangle in her hair. “Oh baby, yes.”
She was more turned on than ever as he fisted his hand in her hair, gently guiding the bobbing of her head.
She loved to see him like this. Loved that she could make him feel this way.
“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” he rasped, jerking his head to the side as he visibly tried to restrain his urge to thrust.
She mumbled around his cock. It filled her mouth—firm and salty and absolutely intimate. She wasn’t an expert at giving blow jobs but she figured she was doing all right. She wasn’t sure what to do with her tongue, but she tried to twirl it a little as she sucked.
When she slanted her eyes up, she saw he was staring down at where his cock disappeared into her mouth.
She gave a muffled moan and squirmed her bottom, trying to ease the ache of her pussy.
“Fuck. Oh fuck.” Greg took a strained breath, and then suddenly pulled her
head up so that his erection slipped out of her mouth.
“Hey! I thought I was doing good.”
“You were doing better than good,” he said hoarsely, pulling her up toward him and arranging her until she was straddling his hips. “But you’re turned on again too, so I figured we could both enjoy it.”
“I was enjoying—” Her objection was cut off when she felt his fingers exploring her wet pussy.
“Maybe you’ll enjoy this more.”
He lifted his cock to line it up at her entrance, and then she lowered herself until he was sheathed inside her. The penetration was tight and substantial, and Victoria’s head fell back at the sensations.
She braced her hands on his shoulders, folding her legs more comfortably around his hips. She wasn’t used to being on top and so she felt a little strange and uncertain. His cock seemed enormous inside her at this angle, and she was overly conscious of the extra flesh on her thighs.
Greg pulled her head down into a kiss then, and the kiss distracted Victoria from her self-consciousness. She began to rock over him, using her thighs to raise and lower her body until she’d established a satisfying rhythm.
They broke off the kiss as she started to move more purposefully above him. The stimulation was delicious and, since she was in control of the motion, she knew it wouldn’t take her long to come.
Then she became aware of Greg’s hand, stroking along the crease of her ass. His fingers explored even more intimately until she felt one of his fingertips pushing against the tight entrance behind her pussy.
At the unexpected pressure, Victoria’s spine stiffened into a dramatic arc. “Ah!” she gasped, her cheeks burning as she felt the sustained pressure on such a vulnerable spot. “What—”
“You don’t like that?” Greg eased his finger back until it was just barely rubbing the clenched entrance.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice strangled by both desire and anxiety. “I’ve never…”
She’d never wanted to try anything like it before. But something about the intense sensation of his exploring finger and the thrill of such vulnerability made her want to feel him that way.
“Can I try?” Greg pressed again on her back passage when she wriggled on his cock. “You might like it.”
