Timing

by Mary Calmes

  “Rand, what are you—”

  “I was only twenty-one, and I… I mean, how could I want you and still be me? There was no way.”

  My mind worked fast. “So you insulted me.”

  He nodded. “It was easy.”

  It had been easy, and I could own that piece years later. “I used to be hotheaded.”

  “You still are.”

  It was true.

  “But then I wanted to fix it, but you wouldn’t even talk to me, and then after a few years, you stopped even seeing me. Now it’s like I’m a ghost.”

  “I ignore you.”

  “You try to.”

  “You make it hard,” I conceded. He was always such an ass to me, almost like he went out of his way to get in his digs.

  “I try my damndest.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He was silent, his eyes locked on mine.

  At once, I understood. “All those times we… you… you did that on purpose? You picked those fights deliberately?”

  He gave me a quick shrug. “If you were pissed at me, I knew you still cared enough to be mad. At least it was somethin’.”

  The confession left me reeling. Ten years of guerilla warfare with Rand Holloway and I had been the only one really fighting? “I don’t know what to—”

  “You know Charlotte used to come home and talk about you and all the men in and out of your bed, and I’d think how lucky I was that I didn’t ever get near you.”

  My track record was bad, there was no denying it. I changed men like I changed clothes; the second they became clinging, I needed air.

  “But how you are with Char, how loyal you are, what she tells me you’re like with your friends…. I know how you really are, Stef. I’ve seen your heart in the way you are with her and with my mom. I see you.”

  Shit.

  “And the way you look at me with those eyes of yours just about burns me up.”

  I had no idea what I was supposed to say.

  “When you’re really mad,” he said, smiling sheepishly, raking his fingers through his thick hair, “your eyes get this color green that”—quick breath—“it’s really somethin’, is all.”

  What was something was that he was nervous, really nervous, and I was the cause.

  “Fighting with you was all I had, you know?”

  He had deliberately fought with me, antagonized me, and picked apart me and everything I did. The battles we had waged over the years, the words that had flown between us and the insults hurled… I had to wonder about the man. How had he always been able to push my buttons? I never got mad at anyone the way I did Rand Holloway. Maybe there was a reason?

  “I know I should have told you all this before now.” He sighed, fiddling with my hair, curling a long piece around my ear. “But you’re not the easiest person in the world to talk to.” The back of his fingers ran up my throat under my chin. “And besides… you hate me.”

  I took a step back and bumped into the wall behind me. I had thought to move beyond his reach, to get his hand to slide off me, but he wasn’t having it.

  “Look at you all flustered.” He smiled down into my eyes.

  Again I tried to lean out of his touch, but he fisted his hand in my hair. It was way too long, hitting my shoulders, but at that moment I was so glad.

  “I always wanted to do this, put my hands in your hair.”

  My heart hurt.

  He ran his hands down my chest. “And touch your skin.”

  I had to try to breathe. “Rand—”

  “You sound like you’re dying.”

  “I just—”

  “You know how sick I am of watching other people touch you?”

  I was silent.

  “Charlotte and Ben and all the girls downstairs, everybody wants to touch you all the time. I’m the only one who can’t when I want to be the only one that can.”

  The shudder tore through me, and I couldn’t stop it.

  “Kiss me,” he said, his eyes locked on mine, absorbing me. “Just once. If it’s bad, if I freak out or if you do… fine, we’ll forget all this.”

  It wasn’t a good idea.

  “Come on, you have nothing to lose.”

  “I have you to lose, and I just got you,” I confessed, terrified.

  “You’ll never lose me, I swear.”

  His hand slid around the nape of my neck, and I felt the strong fingers massaging gently as he eased me forward. His mouth hovered over mine, and he took a sharp intake of breath before he pressed the length of his body against me.

  “Kiss me.” His breath ghosted over my face.

  I leaned in and plastered my mouth to his, harder and faster than I ever had before, trying to show him how fierce and grinding it was to kiss a man in comparison to the softness of kissing a woman. But he knew, somehow he knew what I was up to; his smile told me so, as well as the long, contented sigh. When his lips parted over mine, his tongue gliding into my mouth, his hands clutching at my skin, my legs nearly went out on me. I had never been kissed with so much yearning and so much heat. His kiss sent shivers rippling through me, making me tremble in his arms.

  “I knew you would taste good,” his voice rumbled in his chest. “And I knew kissing you would feel right.”

  “Then kiss me again,” I urged him without thinking.

  The second kiss was devouring, and I gave as good as I got, licking, biting, sucking, not letting him go, not letting him breathe. I felt his hand slide down the front of my jeans, under the waistband of my briefs, and fist around my hard, throbbing cock. I broke the kiss then as electricity tore through me, needing air, needing to get my bearings. He tried to follow me as I pulled back, but I reached up and put a hand on his collarbone.

  “Stop,” I breathed out, taking in gulps of air.

  His eyes were heavy-lidded, his mouth curling in the corner as he looked at me. “I can feel your heart beating in your cock,” he said, leaning in to bite the curve of my shoulder where it met my neck. “I need to taste you.”

  “Stop,” I panted, feeling his words in the pit of my stomach.

  “I don’t wanna stop,” he said, his voice hoarse, deep. “I just wanna touch you.”

  “Rand—”

  “Stop fighting,” he said, his fingers moving fast to unsnap the top button of my jeans, the zipper succumbing next. Opening the flaps, he pushed my jeans and briefs down fast with his one hand, the other still wrapped around my shaft. “Just let me have you.”

  He went to his knees and took me into his mouth. I smiled when he gagged, watched him look up at me with a mischievous grin, and then gasped when he instantly tried again. In seconds, he learned not to take all of me in at once, to use his hand and his lips together to make me catch my breath. He licked and sucked, and it was the worst and best blowjob I ever had. His utter joy, the way he surrendered himself so completely to his desire, and how wet and hot his mouth was, all of it nearly pushed me over the edge.

  When I shoved him back, he looked like I’d hit him. The look was replaced instantly with wonder when I pulled him to his feet and pushed him down on the bed. I made quick work of his belt, his briefs and jeans yanked to his knees before I went to mine in front of the cock I had uncovered. It was beautiful, long, thick, and cut, the color a deep golden brown, and it was completely stiff and waiting for me. The musky smell of him and the bead of precome at the end of the flared head were intoxicating. When I took him into my mouth, the groan he let out was hoarse and deep.

  “Jesus.” He writhed under me, clutching at my hair as I swallowed him down, deep-throating him with practiced ease. I give a killer blowjob, and the way he called my name let me know that I was driving him out of his mind. “God… Stef, you gotta stop, I don’t wanna… I’m gonna come if you don’t stop.”

  I had no intention of stopping. The end to wanting Rand Holloway was in sight. The man I had lusted after since I was eighteen years old was lying under me, the hard silky length of him gliding in and out
of my mouth. I wasn’t about to let him get away. I sucked harder, the suction too strong for him to keep control. His hands were in my hair as he rocked into me, fucking my mouth. I swallowed hard as my throat was suddenly coated with his thick, salty come, taking it all, leaving nothing but his quivering release. When I lifted my head, smiling wickedly, he reached for me, pulling me up to him and then down into a kiss. His mouth opened for me, and his tongue tangled with mine, sucking, tasting himself. He couldn’t get enough, arching up into me, his hands clutching at my skin.

  I had to break the kiss so I could breathe. My head and my lungs were ready to explode. “We should stop… we can still stop and you can still say you’re straight.”

  His smile was huge. “I don’t think so.”

  “Rand, you—”

  “Stef,” he growled, rolling over on top of me, kicking off his boots, shucking out of his pants, pulling and yanking and pinning me under him so I couldn’t move. Like I wanted to. I was having too much fun watching his frustration with his clothes, how disheveled and sweaty he looked, and how he had to bend his head every few seconds and lick my leaking cock. “I just want to be inside you, and I really doubt that wanting that makes me straight.”

  His confession was designed to give me heart failure.

  He froze suddenly, every bit of his attention locked on me. “Is that something you would let me do… be inside you?”

  “Oh God, yes,” I nearly moaned.

  His smile was slow as his eyes swallowed me. “I’ve seen you, you know.”

  I watched his long fingers as they worked over my shaft, sliding from the base to the head as it hardened and dripped precome. Did he know how good it felt?

  “I was in town once when you were going out with that guy Brett. You didn’t hear me come in. Charlotte had given me her key. You guys were in bed, and when I looked in your bedroom, I saw you.”

  He was gorgeous there above me, the hard, corded muscles, washboard stomach, and beautifully sculpted chest. I had always admired the beauty of the man, his permanently tousled black hair and sexy blue eyes. I was finally free to look at him for as long as I wanted.

  “You had your legs over his shoulders and his cock was buried in your ass and he was jerking you off while he fucked you.” He smiled seductively, his eyes barely open. “Let’s do that.”

  I shook my head.

  “Why not? Would it hurt you?”

  “You hurting me is not the issue.”

  “Then what?”

  “Rand, if you do this and then hate me afterward, I—”

  “I could never hate you,” he assured me. “What do we need?”

  “Rand, you might hate—”

  “Isn’t there lube or something?” he demanded.

  I pointed at the nightstand, and he stretched for it, lengthening out his beautiful body but not letting me move. He wanted me right where I was.

  “Listen,” he said as he settled himself back, straddling my thighs. “I haven’t been with anyone since my ex-wife Jenny, okay? I have the paper at home that says I’m clean, but you gotta take my word for it and let me skip the condom.”

  I was overwhelmed. “Rand, you can’t want to—”

  “Oh fuck yeah, I want to.”

  I had to concentrate on breathing. “Listen, I’m clean, too, but you shouldn’t just take my word for it. I’ve been with more guys than—”

  “Not anymore,” he said, leaning down to deliver a kiss that curled my toes. The man was so hot, and he really knew how to kiss me. “You’re done with anybody else.”

  His words drove through me like a freight train. I didn’t like people trying to control me. But Rand….

  “And I know you think I’m fulla shit right now, but you wait and see,” he said, leaning over and kissing me again, this time tenderly, his lips lingering over mine. When he pulled back, he was smiling. “Now tell me what to do.”

  “Here.” I held out my hand for the tube. “Let me make you ready.”

  He handed it to me, and he shivered when I popped open the lid. The man had it really bad for me, and I never had a clue.

  I coated his long, beautiful cock with the lube until it glistened in the faint light from the bathroom. My fingers sliding over his hot skin were making his breath falter.

  “God, that feels amazing.”

  I knew it did.

  “God, Stefan… please… please….”

  He didn’t need to beg me. I shifted under him, staring up into his now heavy-lidded eyes. “Put your arms under my knees.”

  As big and strong as he was, he lifted me effortlessly. “I want… can it be gentle next time?”

  Permission needed to be given. “Yes.”

  I felt the head of his cock slide slowly between my cheeks before he pressed against me. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Rand.”

  The thrust into me was hard and fast, and I moaned loudly as all my muscles tightened at once.

  “Shit.” He sounded pained. “Oh Stef, I’m so—”

  “Stop,” I ordered, wrapping my legs around him so he couldn’t pull back out. “This is part of it, Rand, just stay.”

  His balls were against my ass, and his hands were on my thighs, his fingers digging into my skin. “You feel so good… and looking at you…. Jesus, Stefan.”

  “Fuck me,” I begged him. “Do it now.”

  He reacted instantly, filling me, driving inside so hard and so deep that I was sure that I felt him in my abdomen.

  “Oh God,” he moaned, his body reacting like an electrical current had coursed through him. I was very pleased with myself for eliciting such a gut-wrenching convulsion. “Stefan.” My name came out as a raspy groan. “You’re so tight an’ hot.”

  I felt the muscles in my ass clenching and tightening as he pushed in and out of me, burying himself to the hilt with each new thrust, over and over, setting a hammering pace.

  “Stefan,” he repeated.

  “You’re so hard, you feel so good. Move… don’t stop.”

  He thrust deep inside, and I gasped, but when he checked my face, I smiled at him before asking to be fucked harder and faster still.

  “I don’t wanna hurt—”

  “You could never hurt me. It’s not in you.”

  I saw the muscles in his jaw clench.

  “What?” I teased him, lifting my knees as he leaned forward, arching my back so my legs could slide over his shoulders, bring him deeper. “I should trust you. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He swallowed hard, and his voice was husky and low.

  “Tell me.”

  “I just…. This is how I always wanted to be… inside you,” he said, bending toward me. “Kissing you… filling you up.”

  The angle slid his cock over my prostate. I nearly came up off the bed. “Oh God, Rand, please.”

  “Feel good?” he asked before he pushed down into me.

  There were no words. Between the feel of him deep inside and knowing that it was Rand Holloway I held in my arms, I was lost. My body jerked under his, shuddering before I cried out, my head rolling back, my eyes closed as I rode out my throbbing, heart-stopping climax.

  “Stefan!” He roared my name, and when I opened my eyes, I realized that he had never looked more beautiful. His body went rigid seconds later, and I felt the flood of liquid warmth in my ass.

  We were silent, riding out the aftershocks, both of us trembling. When I could breathe, I looked up at him.

  “Jesus Christ, I think I’m blind.”

  He sounded so serious that I had to laugh at him; then he collapsed on top of me, boneless and exhausted. I ran my hands down the sweat-dampened planes of his back, letting my fingers touch his hot skin, trace his spine, feel the rippling muscles. I felt more than heard his chuckle and rolled my head to look at his face. His eyes were dark and wet, his pupils huge.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he promised, bending his head to nuzzle the side of my ne
ck before placing gentle kisses down the column of my throat. “How could anything be wrong?”

  “I just wanted it to be perfect.”

  “If it was any more perfect, I’d be dead.” He exhaled deeply, pulling slowly out of my body.

  I just stared at him as he lifted up off of me before leaning back down to kiss me, his mouth warm on mine.

  And in that second, I was filled with a certainty that scared me to death. I broke the kiss and rolled over on my stomach. What the hell was I going to do?

  He followed, rolled me over, then draped a leg between mine, and propped his head up on his elbow to look down into my face. “Freaking out?”

  How was he so calm? “Yeah. Why, aren’t you?”

  He nodded, the evil grin back, making his wet eyes glow.

  “You’re amazing.”

  “No,” he said, using his fingers to trace my eyebrow, then down my nose to my mouth. “You, my friend… you are amazing. I had no idea it would be like that.”

  I squinted at him as he traced my lips.

  “I have never just…. It felt good… right.”

  “That’s great,” I muttered, shoving him off me, rolling to my side. “And now that your curiosity is satisfied… you need to get the hell outta my bed.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yep,” I said flatly. “Just go or—”

  His laughter washed over me, loud and deep and full of absolute relief.

  “Fine, I’ll go,” I snapped at him, lifting up to move.

  He grabbed my shoulder and pinned me down on the bed, hovering above me, his eyes locked on my face. “Don’t be an idiot. I already told you I wasn’t curious.”

  “Then what the hell is going on?” I never worried after sex. I never even cared, but I had never been in bed with the man who had starred in every fantasy I’d had since I was a freshman in college.

  “What’s going on is that I want to take you home with me.”

  My eyes lifted to his.

  “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited?”

  I yanked him down to me, kissing him hard and deep, the kiss rough and claiming. I wanted to be gentle, but between the aching need in my chest and the overwhelming desire to make him mine, there was no way. I rolled him over and had him flat on his back seconds later. He smiled before parting his lips, sucking on my tongue, tasting me, kissing me back with as much heat as I was giving him.