Still, there was work to be done. Promises to be upheld. And she was starting to get cabin fever.
Sick of feeling sorry for herself, she dragged herself up to stand.
Hard work would probably do her some good. She’d call Mike and tell him that she had been sick but that she’d be there to work tomorrow morning.
No way he’d believe that.
Okay, so maybe she would just call and air it all out. Tell him that she wasn’t thinking straight since her little mishap. He’d understand that. They had to talk about it, they couldn’t just ignore that there was this sexual tension that caused the air around them to buzz with a sort of static charge just three days prior.
She’d finally convinced herself to pick up the phone when a knock sounded at the door.
“Kitty? You home?”
Shit.
It was Mike. And she was wearing her Daffy Duck t-shirt and a pair of plaid boxers.
“Uh, just a minute,” she yelled at the door.
Her body went into autopilot as she stormed through her bedroom like a tornado, yanking off her clothes as she went. She slipped on the sexiest bra she owned that was clean – a teal, lacey number. On top of that, she threw on a midnight blue, deep-v shirt that accented both her eyes and her cleavage. A matching thong and a pair of black leggings were next.
No big. She would’ve done the same for any guest.
“Take your time,” he called from her porch. “I’ve got plenty of beer and pizza out here to last me through the night.”
The next ten seconds were spent deciding whether to wear her hair up or down. She finally gave up, threw it in a ponytail and slicked on some peach lip-gloss.
She looked in the mirror. Not bad. From pajamas to perky in three minutes. Satisfied, she half-jogged to the door and swung it open.
Mike stood there with a smile, a six-pack of beer in his left hand and a large pizza in his right. And boy did he look good. His thick, black hair gleamed in the fading sunlight. He wore a black t-shirt that barely contained his ink-covered, sun-kissed muscles and a smile that made her tummy ache.
“Truce? I haven’t seen you leave the house in three days. So I thought I’d come feed my landscape designer before she starved to death,” he said.
Kaitlin returned the smile. “I know, I’m so sorry. It’s just…I--”
“No, I’m sorry,” he cut in, “I shouldn’t have put you in that position again after what happened the night before. And I swear I didn’t turn the sprinklers on you. Even if it was god damn funny.”
She waited for the humiliation to come with his teasing words, but it never did. “Yeah, I guess it was pretty funny,” she said with a grudging smile. “Well, come on in.” She gestured to the living room.
“Man, it feels like forever since I’ve been in this house,” he said as he stepped into the foyer.
“It has. Not since I graduated and you and Rick took me out to the bars,” Kaitlin reminded him.
She led him into the living room and motioned for him to set the pizza on the table.
“I’ll get some plates.”
When she returned, Mike had cracked open a couple of beers. He handed one to her and they each took a slice. For the first time since she’d gone over in her trench coat, she felt like she could breathe. She couldn’t say why she felt so relieved that she hadn’t driven a permanent wedge between them with her actions the other night, but damn it, she did.
“I love Roberto’s pizza,” she murmured, before closing her teeth around a bite. The tangy tomato sauce and gooey cheese hit her tongue and she moaned with pleasure. “Sooo good. I haven’t had it since high school,” Kaitlin murmured between bites.
“Yeah, I used to cut class so I could get lunch there every Friday,” he admitted with a grin.
“I wish I’d cut class more. High school sucked,” she admitted, taking a sip of the icy beer he’d brought.
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“For you, maybe!” she said with a laugh. “I mean, you graduated my Junior year, but I still never stopped hearing rumors about your sexual conquests until the day that I graduated. Every guy I met in my grade or below me asked if I knew you when they found out I lived next door to the Blade brothers.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“It’s true,” Kaitlin said, matter-of-factly. “Every guy in your class wanted to be you, and every girl in school wanted you. I mean, you slept with half the girls in school. They couldn’t stop fawning at your feet.”
Mike took a swig of his beer and shook his head. “Those rumors are greatly exaggerated. I really didn’t sleep with that many girls in high school.”
“I bet.”
“I may have gotten around some, but it wasn’t because I had some twisted desire to fuck my way through school. I just never found anyone I liked enough to stick with them.”
Kaitlin wolfed down another slice of pizza. Until then, she hadn’t realized just how hungry she was. “I see,” she said, “commitment issues, huh?”
Then it dawned on her. How could she be so stupid? Of course he had commitment issues. His drug addict mother dumped him and his brother off on his grandma’s doorstep when they were just ten years old. Loneliness and loss had to be an all-too-familiar feeling to him. Could she really blame him for not wanting to risk experiencing that feeling again? If that had happened to her, she’d probably feel the same way. She was trying to figure out how to backpedal, but he seemed unfazed.
He polished off the rest of his beer and set the empty bottle on the table. “Yeah, I guess. You were pretty much the only girl I was even friends with all four years.”
The fluttering in her stomach, the same dizzy feeling she had when they nearly kissed three days ago, started up again.
“Why me?” she asked him.
“I don’t know. You just weren’t like them. You were real. And I liked you as a person. I would never have tried to sleep with you – I didn’t want to ruin the weird but fun relationship we had.”
He caught her gaze with his dark, mesmerizing eyes.
“Plus, I guess I always figured you had a thing for my brother,” he said, cracking open another beer and handing it to her.
She thought long and hard about that notion. Maybe she had started out with a plan to go there and seduce Rick, but that seemed like a million years ago now. Had part of her known all along? Because all she thought about since then was Mike. He haunted her dreams and her days were filled with thoughts of what might have been if he hadn’t stopped her.
Kaitlin pulled another swig of the beer, wondering if she was already tipsy or if being around Mike was making her feel this way.
“That might have been so,” she said. “But where was Rick when that guy was picking on me on the bus that time and you punched him in the stomach? And where was Rick and his coat when I was freezing that night we did the pub-crawl? The night you kissed me?”
“I mean, really, you were the one kissing me that night. And you were drunk. We both were.”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t like it,” she shot back.
Jesus, who was she right now? She must be buzzed if she’d said that out loud.
“Is that so?” he asked, raising a single eyebrow.
“Maybe.” Her tongue felt thick and fuzzy as her pulse stuttered.
“If you liked it so much, then why did you run off the other night?” Mike asked, his voice all grit.
“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “I guess I was scared. And embarrassed.”
But tonight, there wasn’t a shred of that embarrassment left. In fact, she felt bold. Wild. A little crazy.
For Michael Blade.
Heat radiated from her center outward until every nerve-ending stood on end.
Sure, it would just be tonight. He was too much man to tame, and the last thing she wanted was to live the kind of life her mother had lived, always watching over her shoulder for the next woman out to steal her all-too-easy-to-steal man.
But t
onight?
Tonight she knew exactly what she wanted, and he was sitting right next to her with the sexiest smirk she’d ever seen. And when he put his muscular, ink-covered arm around her to draw her in closer, she didn’t pull away.
“I’m not embarrassed anymore, though,” she murmured.
He lifted her up effortlessly and set her onto his lap, so that she was straddling him. He grabbed her by the ass and pulled her in tight to his rock hard body.
“Then prove it.”
6
The smell nearly did him in, same as before. Sweet and light and sexy, just like Kitty. He breathed her in before he traced her mouth with the tip of his tongue.
She shivered in his arms and his cock pulsed. She was so free, so open with her responses, it humbled him.
Her arms snaked around his neck and she plastered her chest against him as she sealed her lips to his. The blood pounded in his ears as their tongues tangled in a dance as old as time.
He clutched her hips, pinning her closer, letting her feel the weight of his want, and she groaned. Her soft hand slipping between their bodies and she closed it gently over his straining seam.
“I…” Her cheeks turned a fiery red but she swallowed hard and tried again. “I want to taste you. Can I do that?”
His heart beat like a jackhammer against his ribs and he nodded. “Fuck, yes. I’ve dreamt of that mouth on me every night since you came to the house and kissed me.”
God help him, she didn't hesitate. Her sexy breasts bounced and jiggled beneath her blouse as she shimmied backward until she was standing. Then, she dropped to her knees.
His chest went tight as she reached out a tentative hand to unbutton his fly. Her gasp when his cock sprang free was music to his ears. Before he could even fully appreciate the sight of her looking down at him, eyes wide, her mouth was on him.
As shy and awkward as she could be at times, he’d been prepared for teasing. A lick of the tip. A slow slide of tongue before she suckled on the head for a bit. A tentative tasting until she got comfortable and found her confidence.
There was none of that.
One second she was staring down at him reverently, cupping him gently in one soft hand, and the next, she was eating his cock, swallowing him whole, taking his shaft so deep, he could feel the tender flesh at the back of her throat. Stars exploded behind his eyelids as he grunted and gripped the couch cushions.
"Fuck."
It was like being encased in molten lava, pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. His cock expanded further with another rush of blood as pressure built in his balls like a coming storm.
He'd had his dick sucked hundreds of times by dozens of women. He’d never had a woman come at it like this. Like she loved it. Needed it.
All the while, she made little humming noises in the back of her throat, urging him on, like she couldn’t wait for him to spurt in her mouth. He tried to get a handle on his reaction, but she wrapped one arm around the backs of his thighs, drawing him even deeper.
“Damn, Kitty, that’s so good to me,” he muttered, giving up and threading his fingers into her silky hair.
She stared up, eyes glazed over with a need that nearly laid him low as she began to move faster, sucking harder with each pass. The lean column of her throat clutched at his swollen shaft in sensual grip and the last thread of his control snapped.
He tightened his hand in her hair, using it as an anchor as she worked her lips around his straining, swollen cock over and over.
What had started out as a test of her mettle had become a test of his self-discipline and he began to pump his hips in counterpoint to her motions, fucking her mouth in long strokes.
His whole world became a pinprick, and his vision blurred. She never let up, reaching out to cup his balls in one hand as she worked.
After countless hours of fantasies. Days of dreaming of this moment, he was five seconds from blowing into her mouth like a teenage boy before he’d even returned the favor.
Not acceptable.
He tore his gaze from the glossy red curls head bobbing between his legs and took a steadying breath. Finally, by some Herculean force of will, he halted her with a firm hand in her hair.
As he drew back, she made a valiant effort to follow, fighting him every step of the way. His dick came free with a pop and bobbed up against his stomach as she licked her swollen lips.
“I never…I want to taste it. I want you to come in my mouth,” she murmured, again trying to dip her face closer.
Even though the words sent a bolt of heat running through him, he forced himself to shake his head.
“Not this time. I want to be inside you.”
He reached down and tugged her to her feet before circling his hands around her waist and hoisting her up to stand. He stood to join her, taking a second to peel off his own shirt before going to work on hers. He wanted to go slow. Admire each luscious inch of her, but the need to touch…to taste was clawing at him like a wild animal.
He yanked her jeans and panties off and then pressed her down onto the couch before dropping to his knees, the same as she’d done for him. She gasped, soft hands clutching at his shoulders as he spread her thighs spread wide, revealing her glistening, pink slit.
“Jesus,” Mike hissed, sucking a breath in through his nose and letting it out slowly through his mouth.
Whatever he was going to do, he’d better do it fast because he was one well-placed touch from exploding. And before he did, he was dead set on making her come harder than she’d ever come in her life.
Because, she might not have started out wanting Michael Blade, but he would make damned sure she never forgot him.
When she’d decided that she was going to do this with him, Kaitlin had promised herself she was going to do it right, which meant no holds barred. But this? This was scaring the hell out of her.
Already, she could feel herself melting into him. Wanting to touch every part of him. Mad with the need to make him feel as wild inside as she did. It was electrifying and terrifying all at once, but she refused to back away from it.
She’d worry about the ramifications tomorrow. Tonight was theirs’.
His rough hands gripped her hips and that alone was enough to send her heart racing anew. She wasn’t a virgin. She’d slept with a few men. Good men. They’d been confident. Smart. Kind. Even competent in bed.
None of them were like Mike.
They’d been careful and gentle and sweet. And boring. So boring.
But when Mike had told her to get on her knees, it was like a line that had been tethering her down her whole life snapped and she was finally free.
She watched him now as he stared down between her quivering legs, seemingly as entranced as she was, and a thrill ran through her.
Her euphoria morphed quickly to lust as his fingers ground into her hips, pulling her to the edge of the couch. He bent low, taking one tingling nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue laving at her as he sucked was almost more than she could take.
Breathing in his masculine, woodsy scent, she reached up to stroke his neck, but his growl stopped her cold.
“My turn now.” He nipped the tender swell of one breast with strong, white teeth and she gasped.
He bent his head to her breast again and flicked one nipple with his tongue. She arched her back to press herself deeper into his mouth and then nearly screamed in frustration as he pulled back yet again.
“Don’t rush me, Kitty,” he murmured, the gravel in his voice sending a gush of heat between her thighs.
He leaned in again and took one nipple between his teeth. He batted it with his tongue and she groaned his name, twisting beneath him.
“Please, Mike-.”
“Shhh,” he whispered, and then pressed his hard, callused palm against her heated core.
Her hips flexed to meet him as two thick fingers dipped into the wetness waiting there for him.
“Nice,” he hissed, sliding his hands down over the sen
sitive skin of her inner thighs before tracing her seam and slipping lower. Their groans mingled as he thrust into her, filling her. She fluttered her hips helplessly against him, and he froze.
“Please.”
He slid his finger deep, grinding the heel of his palm against her throbbing clit.
“I want you,” she whimpered, her vision going hazy as she tried to focus on his gorgeous face as he spoke.
His jaw was so tense, it could’ve been carved from stone and it was only the fear that he would stop touching her that kept her from leaning forward to press her mouth against it. He drew back and added a second finger, thrusting deep and curling them. The sensation had her clawing at the couch in ecstasy.
Close. So damned close.
She shook and tried to grind harder onto his fingers. The orgasm was shimmering just out of reach and she needed it more than her next breath.
He moved between her thighs and palmed his cock in one hand. He stared down at her and groaned and then gripped himself before stroking upward. As he pumped his engorged member in firm strokes, his fingers worked her, thrusting in and out in a steady, slow rhythm. She couldn’t tear her eyes away and moaned as bead of moisture wept from his cock.
As her cries grew louder, and his breath came in short pants, he began to stroke himself harder, up and down.
He stilled and released himself as his cock jerked and twitched.
The he knelt back in front of her, flicking his tongue against the tight bundle of nerves between her legs. Sucking the hard little nub into his mouth, expertly working it with lips and tongue even as his skillful fingers rode her.
One more breath, one more move, and she was going over the edge.
“Mike,” she sobbed, all pretense forgotten as she arched her hips to take him deeper, her pussy clasping tight around his fingers.
He pulled back, his warm breath washing over her as velvety liquid trickled down her thighs. He bit her there and she jerked again, in the agony of anticipation. A second later, he muttered a curse, stood like a shot and withdrew his fingers.
“I can’t fucking take it. I need to be inside you.”
Home for the Holidays: A Contemporary Romance Anthology Page 4
