Quinn, Jane Leopold - Undercover Lover (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Jane Leopold Quinn

  Chapter 17

  He started on her back, his lips to her shoulder. Loosening the band that held her hair, he pushed it from her nape and kissed her. Kissing her lips was awkward, but he scootched her up a little more to make it possible.

  She sobbed into his mouth. “What are you going to do? Tell me.”

  He repeated his actions on her other wrist, wrapping it completely to protect it before attaching the elastic end to the bed. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided,” he groaned. Caressing her arms, he brushed the flattened sides of her breasts, pushing his fingers underneath to get to her nipples. Kissing her spine, he smoothed his palms down her body, his fingers nudging under her to meet around her waist.

  He tugged at the zipper of her skirt, pulling it down her hips.

  She felt his hot breath in the small of her back, felt his tongue drag wetly over her bottom cheeks. He straddled her knees, keeping her legs together between his. She tried to imagine what he saw: her body stretched out, her bottom defenseless, naked except for thigh highs and the thong. It even turned her on to think of what she must look like.

  Hot breath bathed the crease where her bottom met her thigh. He nibbled there. Nibble, lick, nip. Over and over until her pussy lips ached unbearably. He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, slid them down the center, wickedly tightening the silk elastic.

  She couldn’t stop moaning, constant grunts and sighs escaping from deep inside her. She felt vulnerable and exposed, wild and wanton, and so inflamed she wanted to scream. She trusted him. She wanted him. Any way she could have him.

  He parted her cheeks with his thumbs. She buried her face in the sheets, tried to control her panting. He massaged along the crack in small circles, kissed the small of her back again, nipped and stroked her bottom with his tongue. She wanted to spread her legs, to let him in, but he’d squeezed them together.

  He picked up the band lying at the small of her back and snapped it gently, a dark and thrilling sensation. She’d never known it could be so sensual.

  “Oh, baby,” he murmured huskily, sliding the thong down her legs. Gliding over her, cloaking her back, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  She bobbed her head in a yes.

  He backed off and slipped an arm under her waist to draw her to her knees. Sliding his hand around to cup her mound, he slipped two fingers along side her clit.

  She jerked her bottom, rubbing against his cock like a cat in heat.

  “Jesus,” burst out, along with his breath, at her ear. He shoved the broad head of his penis between her thighs, over her cleft, wetting the length of it with the juices seeping from her body. Moaning, she held still. In this new position, he touched her in ways he hadn’t before. He surged, dipping to prod his cock into her sheath in short, tormenting movements. She shimmied her hips in a silent message to enter her fully. He needed orders. “Oh, God. Yes. Damn you, harder!”

  “Yes.” His voice was lost in his groan. “Holy Christ, you feel good. So tight. Unh…yes!”

  She arched her back with the pleasure of his tight, full fit inside her. Her muscles flexed and yielded to his cock. Tears rolled from the corners of her eyes into her hair, her forehead pushing into the pillow. His heat, hard muscles, hot skin, surrounded her. “My clit. Please…”

  He released the grip he had on her hip, slid his hand around, took her between thumb and forefinger and pinched.

  “Harder,” she begged.

  He slid his penis almost all the way out.

  “No…” In agony, a wonderful kind of agony, she felt ready to explode. He was so much better than the vibrator, she thought deliriously. The thick head of his cock stretched her, stroking her tissues deep inside in an agony so startlingly carnal and so unbelievably right. Fighting for a breath, she ground out, “More.”

  He thrust in, a shallow, pulsing stroke.

  “Hard,” she grunted, loving the stuffed full sensation of his cock.

  He thrust again.

  “Harder,” she sobbed, rolling her forehead on the pillow. She felt his restraint, his control.

  “Don’t hold back. Just do it,” she pleaded.

  “Baby.” His fingers gripped her hips, holding her still.

  He withdrew and, without warning, he stroked into her, fast and hard, just the way she wanted it, had begged for it. Their shouts echoed in the room.

  “More,” she panted.

  “Jesus, yes.” His growl heralded a change in tactics.

  And she got what she’d been pleading for.

  He eased out, the head just barely there, then thrust back in. With every in-thrust, he growled, the sound of his voice going lower and lower into a grunt.

  She felt her throat tighten, then felt nothing but his cock, the potent, sensations of ecstasy.

  He howled, stiffened, his fingers digging painfully into her hips holding them still.

  Her channel, flexing and massaging him, brought his explosion, the fiery flood of ejaculate pulsing into her. She pulled on her restraints. Fully realizing her submissive position broke her last bit of control. Burying her face in the pillow, she didn’t register her own desperate howls, the sounds coming from deep inside, and she went over the edge to join him, not able to stop her whimpering.

  His body surrounded her. “I’m sorry if I was too rough, baby.” He sounded a bit weepy, too.

  She didn’t have the words to express how she felt. Her brain had detonated along with her body. She tried to form words, but only whimpers, low and rasping, soft and whispery, came out. The heated breath of his murmurs tickled in her ear. She groaned. “I’m…fine… ”

  Some time later, she awoke to find him entwined around her, his front to her back. She smiled sleepily, listening to his light snore. Her wrists were loose, with the stockings still wrapped around them, and a wanton lust came over her. She wanted to tie him up. Wanted to suck his cock, lick it, caress his balls with her tongue, to make him explode in her mouth. She stealthily worked the stockings off her wrists and rolled over to grasp his arms before he came awake.

  * * * *

  “Unh…” Sam protested the disturbance. Sleep. That’s all he wanted. He didn’t think he’d slept in a month, maybe more. Between work, the shooting, and his amazing woman, he’d been strung pretty tightly.

  What’s going on?

  He was sure he’d been snuggled up to a soft, sweet backside of the woman he’d tracked down. They’d had the most amazing…

  Rolling to his back, he stretched his arms above his head, enjoying the pull of his muscles. His eyes closed, he smiled and flexed his neck, digging his head in more deeply on the pillow.

  He felt a tickle on his chest, like little bugs’ legs crawling all over him. “Ow.” His nipple. He tried to drag his arms down to brush the little bastards off. And couldn’t. Still more asleep than awake, he tugged again.

  “Ow.” This time his eyes popped open, and he pretty near had a heart attack. Hovering at his side, she bent over his torso, teasing him with her long hair and taking turns biting and sucking his nipples.

  “Jesus…”

  She rolled one between her teeth.

  He panted and sought her gaze. Fully awake now, the tables had been turned, so to speak, and he found himself duly tied to the bed posts. “Unh…no…” He arched his body, uncomfortable with the submissive position. “Liz…what…?” His stomach roiled with nerves. He felt much too vulnerable.

  She effectively quieted him, whispering shushing sounds, nibbling up his neck, over his jaw and across to his ear. Her hair fanned around them like a curtain shutting out the world. She leaned over his face, running her fingers up his outstretched arms, caressing, kneading, circling his wrists, reminding him of his restraints. As if he could forget.

  Beautiful.

  Her movement put her nipples right over his lips, and he pulled one into his mouth before she could get away.

  She squealed and sat up, wrapping her hands around his arms and dragging her fingers back to his shoulders.

  D
amn.

  She tugged at his underarm hair, twisting the strands in her fingers. How the hell could this torture turn him on? “Mm.” He felt the tightening of his cock, the searing ache, and the throb of blood through his veins. His fluttering stomach muscles contracted, he wasn’t sure what would happen next. With a hiss, he clenched his back teeth, but it didn’t stop the little grunts and whimpers slipping from his throat.

  She caressed him, trailing her fingers over his chest and molding his muscles with her palms, paying special attention to his nipples and the darker area around them. That’s when he noticed he couldn’t breathe right.

  …excruciating…

  His cock bobbed, ached and wanted. He shifted his legs restlessly, opening his thighs. She hadn’t caressed him anywhere near there, but the sensations raced over his skin, through his muscles and blood. Seriously afraid he would come before she touched his prick, his hips arched in readiness. Not sure why being subdued would turn a tough guy like him on, he groaned at his confusion and at the contradictory eroticism.

  “Sam, open your eyes.”

  Slowly, he cranked them open.

  She peered at his face with a worried look on hers. She massaged his chest and his sides, placing her palm over his heart. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded jerkily, taking a much needed deep breath. It seemed neither of them could get a good breath around the other.

  “Do you want me to untie you? Because I will if you don’t like this. I just wanted…I mean I thought you’d like…I’m sorry.” She leaned over him reaching for his wrists.

  He had a decision to make. Fast. Suck a nipple in or… “No,” he whispered, his lips millimeters from the sweet, pebbled tip.

  Their eyes met, both surprised, but no one more surprised than he. He had never been restrained like this in his life and didn’t like it one bit.

  Except he did like it. With her.

  “Don’t untie me.”

  I’m insane.

  “Give me your breast,” he ground out.

  She cupped her breast in her palm and offered it to him.

  Holy Christ!

  He couldn’t blink. Her eyes sparkled with a million lights. Her lips made an O, then puckered. He knew what she wanted. Latching on, he heard groans loud and clear. Hers and his. He suckled and swirled his tongue over the tip.

  She balanced over him, her arms on either side of his head shakily holding herself up. In fact her whole body quivered above him.

  He reluctantly released her nipple, brushing his nose against the wet tip. “Finish this. I need to get my arms around you.” He wasn’t sure she heard him, his voice so low and husky he could barely hear it himself over the roar of blood in his ears.

  She hesitated.

  “Do it, baby.” He nudged his hips up. “Suck me…”

  She breathed roughly, her mouth slightly open, a breath in, a whimper out.

  “Christ, please…”

  Then her mouth covered him in hot, wet silk. Her lips clamped around the ridge below the head. Her tongue played in the slit, her hands wrapped tightly around the shaft.

  Jesus. Go all the way down.

  His gut twisted, hot with tension. With anticipation. With lust. He thrust up to show her what he wanted.

  Down she went. As far as she could. It was all mouth, a scrape of teeth, her swirling tongue, her fist holding what didn’t fit.

  “Yes.” His voice was high and begging, his throat thick with passion and pure want. “Liz,” he groaned. He could feel her humming moans on his cock, then her high-pitched whimpers. He forced his eyes open watching her bob up and down to service his fucking cock.

  She’d pulled her hair to one side so he had a clear view of her face, of her lips pulling, her cheeks inflating and deflating, her hair tickling his thighs. “Holy Christ!” He thrust with his hips, fucking her mouth. His sudden eruption spilled thick, forceful jets into her mouth. He didn’t know for sure if she swallowed it this time. He’d arched and squeezed his eyes shut on the exquisite pleasure. Tears seeped from the corners of his eyes and trickled down to pool in his ears.

  Chapter 18

  Sam slumped over the counter in the bathroom, his fingers splayed on the surface supporting his weakened body. He blinked, shading his eyes from the bright, unforgiving overhead light.

  Holy Christ! What am I gonna do?

  Bent over at the waist, he buried his face in his arms. Shocked at his own possessive wanting, he had never, in all his twenty-six years, been this wrung out from sex. His cock actually hurt. His thighs, as well as his stomach muscles, ached from the strain. He slowly finished unwrapping the stockings from his wrists, bringing back the memory of every glorious second of the night before.

  I love her.

  He stared at his reflection in the mirror, not really seeing anything except his dark hair and eyes. As shocking as this revelation was to him, he felt a comforting warmth spreading through his chest. “Oh, baby. I do love you,” he whispered to the mirror.

  His belly clenched. In the mirror, he watched his already hardening cock. She made him want to have everything, to do everything with her. Almost made him forget he’d never told her the whole truth. He cradled his penis then remembered he gripped his cell in his other hand.

  “Hell.” He’d gotten up from the bed to use the john and had seen his phone blinking away. The bathroom light, the memories of what they’d done, distracted him, but he finally accessed the text message.

  Oh, Christ.

  Petey in hosp hi fever. call me. The message was from Jeff.

  What had he thought? Look what his love had done to Petey, then to Liz. He brought destruction to the people he loved. He needed this message to remind him of that.

  I’ve got to get out of her life. I owe Petey too much.

  Again, his note to her was brief.

  Sorry. Petey’s in the hospital. I have to go home.

  * * * *

  “What aren’t you telling me, Liz? What happened in New Orleans?” Bailey and Liz were brunching at the Swedish restaurant four blocks from Liz’s house. “He’s gorgeous, but more importantly, he cared enough to come after you.”

  Liz felt the blush warm her cheeks. “Well…” She hesitated.

  “He found you, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her friend should have been a police interrogator. He trained his patented intensity on her and wouldn’t let go until he got every bit of information. A large chunk of it would never be revealed to a living soul. The things they’d done in bed had been over the top. Amazing, hot, sensual, depraved. Absolutely wonderful. And she was very much afraid she’d never see him again.

  “Liz…”

  She groaned. What had happened to him?

  “Can I take it that you haven’t talked to him since you’ve been back?”

  She nodded.

  “The snake!”

  “Yeah.”

  “You could call him.”

  “If he wants me, he can call.” She bit into her cinnamon roll.

  “But, Liz, it’s the new millennium. Girls can call guys now, you know.”

  “Yeah, but he left me.” She concentrated on chewing.

  “What do you mean he left?” Bailey’s gaze hardened.

  “Just what I said. He had his fun and then left.”

  “You mean he walked out?” He sounded incredulous.

  “Yeah.” She couldn’t look at her friend. “In the middle of the night.”

  “God damn it! I’m so sorry, Liz.”

  “It’s okay,” she said in a quiet, defeated voice. “It’s a learning experience. I woke up in the morning, and he was gone.”

  “No message?”

  “Nothing.”

  “God! I hate the man.” Bailey tapped the table with restless fingers.

  “I handled it maturely. I huddled in my room until time to go home. I was furious with myself but couldn’t seem to get my act together.” And she never did find that pair of thigh highs.

/>   Bailey wrapped his fingers around hers. “Well, move on then. A man like that isn’t worth a minute’s more thought. He’s not worthy of you.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She felt abandoned. Her days with Sam had been amazing. “Well, she who has never lost love has never felt love, or some crap like that. Stupid saying!” He’d left her as surely as Fred had.

  * * * *

  “Sammy, that lady is looking at you.”

  “Petey, it’s not nice to point at people. Especially ladies,” Jeff advised, but all three men turned to look at the lady.

  Holy shit.

  The lady was Liz. Sam caught her gaze before she lifted her chin and looked away.

  Take that, dog! He hadn’t seen her since New Orleans. His cock swelled at the memory. He’d stuffed her stockings in the drawer of his bedside table. Unfortunately, she stood right next to the display window that originally captured Petey’s attention.

  “Hi.”

  Oh, God, Petey spoke to her.

  “Do you know Sammy? Do you like Legos, too?”

  “Sammy?” Wide-eyed, she looked stuck with no way to escape.

  There was nothing else to do but brave his way out of this. He’d almost told her he loved her, had almost let it slip during the most wonderful sex of his life. He’d accepted she was more special to him than any other woman had ever been. Then the text message. Petey had been taken to the hospital with a high fever. His brother was his responsibility and first priority. Didn’t Petey suffer for his actions every day? Hadn’t Liz been through enough because of him?

  Petey’s fever had dropped, he’d recovered quickly, and then had been released from the hospital. Today, he and Jeff were taking him on a shopping excursion to celebrate.

  And now his youngest brother was talking to her. What were the odds they’d run into each other on Michigan Avenue? Damn, she looked good. Why couldn’t the woman wear slacks? But then why should she? She had spectacular legs.