Sexy Designs

by Desiree Holt

  Forcing himself to lift his lips from hers, he slid his hands around to cradle her head.

  “One more minute,” he told her, panting slightly, “and I’d strip you naked right here on your front porch and give your neighbors something to watch.”

  Her laugh had a giddy sound to it. “That’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to respond to a man in, well, a very long time.”

  “I’m glad it was with me.” He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “I sense a very sensual woman under all this, Grace Traynor. One with a lot of passion. I want the privilege of tapping it.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll be disillusioned.” She shifted her gaze to the side.

  “Don’t look away. Please. I’m looking forward to tomorrow, and I’m sure I won’t be disappointed at all. Okay?”

  After a long pause, she nodded.

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at one o’clock. Wear something very casual. Jeans, if you have them.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I have a kind of adventure in mind for Paradise Ranch. I think I’ll try it out on you first.” He gave her a light kiss. “Tomorrow at one.”

  ***

  Grace spent a very restless night. Sensual images of herself with Ben had played over and over in her mind, stirring her until she finally pulled her favorite vibrator out of her nightstand drawer. She was so wet she didn’t even need to use lube on it. No, the lifelike dildo slid into her cunt with very little effort.

  What would Ben think if he knew about her toys? Did he think a woman of her age—fifty-six—was past all that? Or was he aware that a woman’s sex drive peaked much later than a man’s did? Alan had so damaged her sex drive that, over the years, she’d only masturbated to satisfy the demand of a body that hadn’t gotten the message sex was off the table. She thought of it as another form of exercise, like the time she spent on her treadmill.

  Ben Randall was the first man in all these years to awaken actual desire. She was so out of practice, she wasn’t even sure what to do with it. But, as she lay there, vibrator humming busily and her fingers rubbing her clit, she tried to imagine his penis inside her instead, thrusting in and out of her suddenly hungry cunt. A situation so far removed from her life, she was surprised she could even remember it at all.

  Unlike all the other times, this climax was far more than a good sneeze. It rocked her entire body. Good Lord! What was happening to her?

  It wasn’t just the physical that tempted her, though. No, far more dangerous was his overall appeal. He was smart, witty, courteous, self-confident without being arrogant. He gave her space, yet, at the same time, his interest was too obvious to miss. Her past was like steel shackles binding her, but, little by little, Ben Randall seemed to be loosening them.

  For weeks, they had danced around whatever this thing was happening between them. Had she made a mistake finally accepting his invitation? Going to dinner with him? After all, she would still be working with him for many weeks, as she decorated the new models in the community and the clubhouse buildings. She didn’t want to screw up such a lucrative contract. But she’d gone, and the evening had been so pleasant she’d almost forgotten to be on her guard. When they danced, she’d felt so right in his arms. Secure. Of course, when the hard length of his cock had pressed against her, she’d been very aware of his attraction to her.

  And that kiss! Holy hell! She’d forgotten what good kissing was like, but she was sure that one was way off the charts. She’d remembered the pressure of his lips and the taste of him long after she’d walked into her house.

  She’d finally fallen asleep, but when she awoke, she was hornier than she could ever remember being. Even as a new bride, before Alan had stripped away every vestige of self-confidence in the bedroom. And now, here she was, having agreed to go on a…what? A date? Today? She thought of nothing except what the day would bring. She had no idea what he’d planned, and she was a hot mess of anxiety and anticipation.

  She distracted herself during the morning with busywork in her home office, finally giving up all pretense of being productive and going to get ready.

  Promptly at one o’clock, the doorbell rang.

  Her eyes widened at the sight of Ben in worn jeans and a soft-collar shirt. She was so used to seeing him in tailored slacks and a button down

  He looks so sexy.

  Okay, she was officially losing her mind. Ben and sexy spelled danger.

  The smile he gave her made her toes curl. “You look incredible, Grace.” He held out his hand. “Ready for an adventure?”

  Was she?

  “I think so.”

  His laugh had a rich, warm sound and rolled over her like heated molasses. “I hope to change that to a positive. Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

  “For what?” His hand was warm on her skin as he guided her to his car and helped her into the passenger seat. She tried not to tremble at his touch.

  “It’s a surprise.” He winked at her.

  Wherever they were going, it was away from San Antonio, farther into the hill country. Somehow, she kept up a conversation with him, even as they left the interstate and turned onto a two-lane country road. She stared at the acres of ranchland they passed, the cattle grazing lazily and horses gamboling in pastures.

  “We’re going to a ranch?” Her curiosity was aroused even more when they turned in through a split-rail entrance with a sign hanging from the crosspiece that read Conway Ranch.

  “Yes, we are. That’s where the surprise is.”

  “Okay, I give up. What’s going on, Ben?”

  “You’ll see in a minute.”

  At the end of a long drive sat a low ranch house with a wide porch. Behind it were a series of outbuildings, and beyond those were more acres of land.

  She let Ben help her from the car. “I’m not so sure about this.”

  “This afternoon is all going to be about fun,” he told her. “At least, I hope so.”

  A man close to Ben’s age, dressed in jeans and a work shirt, walked out of the barn to meet them.

  “Glad you made it.” He shook hands with Ben and turned to Grace. “This must be the beauty you told me about. Nice to meet you. I’m Alan Blanco.”

  Grace’s face heated as he shook her hand also.

  “I think Ben is given to extremes of description,” she protested.

  “Actually, I’m not sure he even did you justice.” Alan turned to Ben. “We’re all ready when you are. I just need to get the goodies from the house.”

  “Excellent. We’ll meet you at the wagon.”

  Despite her misgivings, Grace was curious about what Ben had planned. When he led her through the barn and out the other side, she burst out laughing.

  “A hay wagon? That’s the big surprise?”

  He grinned. “I’m thinking of offering it as an adventure at Paradise Ranch. I thought we’d try it out, and I’d get your opinion. One of Alan’s grandchildren would manage it. Great for residents when their own grandkids come to visit, don’t you think?”

  “I think the adults might be just as interested. I haven’t been on one of these since high school.”

  “Then it’s definitely time you got reacquainted. Up you go.”

  The tailgate of the wagon was down, and he lifted her into the thick bales of hay filling it. With athletic agility, he boosted himself up and pulled the gate shut. Then he tugged her against him, his arm curving over her shoulder, just as Alan emerged from the house carrying a large wicker basket.

  “I see you’re all ready.” He climbed up into the driver’s seat in front, placing the basket beside him. “Okay, folks. Here we go.”

  Chapter Three

  Ben stretched out full-length, leaning on one elbow, and studied Grace. Her eyes seemed a deeper blue than usual and her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink. The navy T-shirt she wore draped softly over breasts he was dying to cup in his hands, and the jeans emphasized the curve of her hips a
nd thighs.

  Alan had left them with the basket and a two-way radio to call for him when they were ready for pickup.

  He had watched her initial apprehension gradually ease as they ate the picnic lunch Alan’s wife had prepared and shared the bottle of wine. Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss over her very tempting mouth.

  “I’ve had this planned for some time, you know.”

  Her eyes widened. “You did? You were pretty damn confident.”

  “Not at all. For a long time, I wasn’t even sure I could pull it off. That you would accept my invitation.”

  Anguish filled her eyes, and the muscles in her face tightened. “I explained last night—”

  “Ssh.” He touched a fingertip to her lips. “I heard and I understand. But now I want you to let me show you how special you are. And how great sex can be between two people who like and respect each other.”

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “What if I’m no good at it?”

  “I have a feeling you’ll be great. Anyway, no expectations. We’ll just go with the flow. Okay?”

  “A-all right.”

  He slipped one hand beneath her head, cradling it, as he took her mouth in another kiss, this one slow and deep. Coaxing her lips apart, he eased his tongue inside, tasting the chocolate brownies, the dry white wine, and the flavor that was uniquely Grace. Heat flashed through his body, hardening his cock and creating an ache in his balls. He cajoled her tongue to move with his, and, soon, they indulged in a mating dance in her sweet, sweet mouth.

  Ben took his time, knowing the best things could not be rushed. He took the kiss deeper, holding her head in place with tender firmness. His pulse kicked over when she reached up a hand to thread her fingers through his hair. Breaking the kiss, he slid his mouth along the line of her jaw, down the column of her neck to the hollow of her throat where her pulse beat in rapid tempo. Emboldened, he licked the tender spot before nipping it oh so lightly.

  Rather than pull away, Grace arched into him, a soft moan echoing from her throat. Ben slipped his hand down her tummy to the edge of her T-shirt, reaching beneath the material to find her breasts. He took one in his palm, just slightly squeezing its softness very.

  They…they aren’t what they used to be.” Grace’s voice was breathless and somewhat timid.

  No more of that. “Good. Because they are exactly what I want right now.”

  To emphasize, he squeezed the one mound again before lightly pinching the nipple between thumb and forefinger. The silk and lace of her bra was an insubstantial covering, but, nevertheless, he wanted it gone. When a deft flick of his fingers opened the front clasp on the first try, he silently congratulated himself on not having lost his touch.

  He waited a moment to see if Grace would protest, but when she simply looked at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, he slid her T-shirt up so he could see the magic of her curves himself.

  “Gorgeous,” he breathed.

  And they were. Creamy mounds, so pliable the way he liked them, with dark nipples that just begged for his mouth. He closed his lips over one and gave a gentle tug. When he grazed it with his teeth, she gave that sexy little moan again and the rich blue of her eyes darkened.

  Bracing her with his arm beneath her, he sucked and licked her nipple at leisure, palming the breast and kneading it a light touch. He wasn’t going to rush anything here. They had all afternoon. Sex might not be as energetic and frantic at his age, but there were a lot more subtle nuances that were infinitely more satisfying. He planned to use every bit of skill he had to make the experience outstanding for this woman who unexpectedly owned a piece of him.

  When he had tormented one taut bud to his satisfaction, he moved to the other one. She writhed beneath him, lifting herself up to him. His penis was making protesting movements behind fly, but he sent it a ruthless message to calm down. Hurrying would be the worst thing he could do.

  When her breathing escalated and her pulse beat harder, he tugged her T-shirt upward with slow movements, holding his breath as he waited for her to protest. But when she tensed, he went back to work on her nipples, and, just like that, he disposed of her top and her bra.

  He licked a slow path down the valley between her breasts to the waistband of her jeans. With careful movements of his fingers, he undid the snap and eased down the zipper. When she stirred restlessly beneath him, a protest on the horizon, he used his mouth to distract her. With the tip of his tongue, he traced the indentation of her navel and the elastic line of her panties. He needed her naked, and, to reach that point, he’d have to keep her distracted.

  He wasn’t as agile as he used to be, but he still managed to keep her preoccupied with his mouth and his tongue while he eased down her jeans. Then, again, she tensed and moved her hands to press against his shoulders.

  “No.” She slid her gaze away from his. “I-I’m not sure I—”

  “Grace.” He stroked her cheek and the slender line of her neck. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m going to love whatever I see. You are a mature woman with a mature body which is exactly what I want.”

  “I don’t look the way I used to,” she protested.

  “Thank God.” He blew out a breath. “Because I don’t either. So, we start out even.” He skimmed his mouth over hers. “Let me see you, Grace. Let me make you feel good.”

  “Then you have to take off your clothes, too.”

  His gaze locked with hers, and what he saw was a delicious combination of shyness and desire. It made him all the harder.

  “I’ll take off my shirt.” He grinned and yanked it over his head.

  He knew his upper body was in pretty good shape, gray hair sprinkled over a chest tanned from sitting outside shirtless. He watched her eyes for her reaction, a breath easing from him when she smiled.

  “Not bad for an old guy,” she teased.

  “Yeah? You like what you see?”

  She smoothed her hands over his shoulder and down his chest, scraping her nails over his nipples in a tentative caress, as if not sure he’d like it.

  “You can do anything you want to me, Grace. Touch me anywhere. It’s all good.”

  Maybe that was the key to moving forward. Let her do some exploring of her own. Give her a feeling of confidence. Of control. He had a sense that in her marriage that hadn’t been a factor. Damn asshole. So, he lay back and let her sit, her fingers exploring every bit of his exposed skin. When she leaned down and licked his nipples, he had to grit his teeth to maintain control, but, whatever he had to do, the end result would be worth it. He knew it.

  But damn! It took mountains of self control to lie there while she smoothed her hands over his chest and his shoulders. Flicked his nipples with a fingernail then shyly leaned down to touch the tip of her tongue to each one. When she traced a wet line down to his navel, his cock flexed. There was no way she couldn’t notice. Her heated gaze widened, and she reached a hand out to touch him.

  But, that quickly, she drew it back.

  “It’s all good, Grace.” He managed to speak even with his teeth gritted. “Go ahead.”

  She reached out but again drew her hand back with a jerky movement.

  Ben took her hands and kissed each finger, licking the tips before easing her down to the quilt again.

  “I’d love for you to touch me there.” He delved the tip of his tongue into the hollow of her throat. “Of course, this might all end too quickly if you did.”

  She studied his face. “Yes?”

  “Can’t you tell how hungry for you I am? How horny you make me?” As he spoke, he inched her jeans down her legs. “I want to put my mouth on you everywhere.” Demonstrating, he drew a line with his tongue along the waistband of her panties. “I need to taste every inch of you, Grace. Every mouthwatering inch.”

  Kneeling between her legs, he gripped the elastic with his teeth and pulled it inch by inch down her skin. In an instant, she clutched his head with hand
s that trembled.

  He looked up at her, at the anguish plain on her face.

  “Grace, darlin’. I told you. It’s all good. I love what I see. Luscious skin. Full breasts. Gorgeous nipples. Hips I can hang onto and warm legs to wrap around me.” He inhaled a deep, calming breath. “Look at me. Gray chest hair. Muscles not once what they once were.” He placed a kiss just above the nest of curls on her mound. “But if I don’t get a real taste of you in a minute, I might die of deprivation.”

  She actually giggled, a sound that broke the strain, and slid her hands from his head. He noticed that she curled them into loose fists, but that was okay. At least she had given him the signal he wanted.

  He continued to draw the panties down, away from her pussy and down her thighs. He stopped for a moment to inhale her tantalizing musk, a rich aroma that woke every nerve in his body. Then the panties were gone completely, and he could spread her legs wide.

  His heart almost stopped at the erotic sight of her. Curls a shade darker than the sable on her head marched in a straight line across the top of her sex and in neat lines down each of her labia. The rest of her mound was neatly shaved.

  God!

  He’d never thought to see such a sight again at his age. Not unless he found someone of a much younger generation.

  This was a woman who, despite locking away her passion, groomed her body well. Took good care of herself. Made herself tempting even though there was no man in the picture. Well, that was definitely going to change. Right now.

  He caressed her inner thighs with his thumbs, just light strokes, watching her face while he did so. Her body trembled beneath his touch, and she caught her lower lip with her teeth again, a habit he was coming to love. But she didn’t try to stop him. If the acceleration of the pulse at her throat was any indication, she was responding to him as he’d hoped.

  Little by little, she relaxed, and when her legs fell open more, he slid his thumbs up to the lips of her cunt and stroked them. She caught her breath, and a soft whimper drifted from her mouth. He kept up an even rhythm, a steady caress, and was rewarded by the replacement of one kind of tension with another. He knew it had been decades since she’d responded to any man, even been with one, and pride surged through him that he was able to bring her this kind of pleasure.