Ezra watched her, too. Hell, he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked toward him. He tensed as she stopped just a breath away—literally just a breath. He could feel the warmth of her skin, see his own reflection in the dark glasses she used to shield her eyes. “If I didn’t want you touching me, believe me, you wouldn’t have gotten in the front door,” she said. “The friends thing was your idea in the first place, not mine. Remember?”
His mouth went dry as she reached up and, with unerring accuracy, laid a hand on his chest. “So does that mean I don’t need to stop staring at you?” he asked and his throat was so damned tight he could barely breathe.
“Stare all you want.” She slid her hand higher, toyed with the neck of his T-shirt. “I want to know what you look like … can I?”
“You can do anything you want.”
If anybody had told him that having a woman touch his face could be that damned erotic, Ezra would have laughed.
That was until Lena Riddle put her hands on him, tracing the line of his lips with her fingertips, doing the same with his jawline, along his cheekbones, feathering across his eyes and nose.
She took her time with her tactile exploration of his face, combing her fingers through his hair, even tracing his ears with her fingertips.
Every single touch, every single stroke, seemed to arrow straight down his spine, striking him square in the balls.
Damn it, he hurt. His cock was rigid, painfully hard, and he was ready to do damn near anything if it would get her to wrap those soft, cool fingers around him. He was all but shuddering with the need to touch her, taste her.
By the time she finished and lowered her hands to his shoulders, Ezra was strung tight and hovering on the edge of his control.
“What color are your eyes?”
“Green.” His voice was hoarse, tight. Hell, he was so damned turned on, it was a miracle he could even speak. Reaching up, he caught her glasses and tugged them off, setting them on the small table just inside the doorway. “I want to see your eyes.”
She averted her gaze but he reached out, caught her chin in his hand, and tugged until she was once more facing him. “You’ve got the prettiest damn eyes,” he said, staring into the pale blue. He closed the scant inches between them and angled her chin upward. “I want to kiss you … if that’s a problem, then do me a favor and just tell me no, right now.”
A grin flirted with her lips and she swayed closer. “Not a problem. Not at all. Unless of course you plan on deciding in a few hours you’re not sure you really want to try this thing out, after all.”
Ezra nuzzled her mouth. “Hmmm. Not going to be an issue, although I think it’s time I apologized. I’m sorry about that. Seriously. Could we maybe rewind and just start over? Try it again?”
“No … no do-overs.” She raked his lower lip with her teeth. “I get why you pulled back. It makes sense. Just make sure you really want to go forward before we … do whatever.”
“I’m sure. Damnation, I can’t get you out of my head, Lena. You’re everywhere.” He cupped her face in his hands, angling her head back. “Can’t stop thinking about you, not from the first time I saw you.”
“Hmmm. Well, that’s pretty much mutual … now why don’t you stop talking and kiss me already?”
Anything else she might have said was muffled against his mouth. She moaned and he swallowed the sound down, licked her lips, demanding that she open for him. She did and he shuddered as her taste hit his system with supernova force. It was like kissing the damn sun, blistering hot but so damn sweet. Growling against her lips, he hooked a hand over the back of her neck and tugged her closer.
She came willingly, sliding her arms around his shoulders and plastering that long, perfect body against his. He rested his free hand on her hip and just barely managed to keep from rocking his hips against her, cuddling his aching dick against her belly. Before he could give in, he stroked upward, tracing the line of her waist, up, up until the heel of his hand stroked over the outer curve of her breast. She caught his hand, but instead of tugging it away, she pressed him against her.
Tearing his mouth away from hers, Ezra rested his brow against hers. “Damn it, Lena. Are you trying to kill me?”
She smiled and arched against him. “No.”
“You should be more careful,” he rasped, torn between the need to just keep right on touching her and his muddled thoughts—too quick. Moving too damn quick, but damn if he didn’t want to just go with it, ride it out … ride her.
She shrugged and stroked a hand down his chest. “I usually am.” She laughed softly as she slid a hand under his shirt, resting it just above the waistband of his jeans. “I’m usually a lot more careful than this.”
He believed her. “Good.” Then he grabbed the waistband of her shirt and shoved it up, baring her breasts. “I’m usually a fucking Boy Scout … fuck, Lena. You’ve got the prettiest damn tits. Hell, everything about you—so damn perfect.”
Stooping over, he caught one swollen pink tip and sucked it into his mouth. She cried out and dipped her hands into his hair, holding him tight. “Ezra …”
He growled against her, using his tongue to push her nipple against the roof of his mouth, drawing on her flesh and shuddering as her taste flooded his senses. She tasted like peaches, too. Ezra loved peaches. He rested his hand on her hip, easing it lower and lower, under the waistband of her pants to find her naked under them. Swearing, he tore his mouth away and rasped, “You’re not wearing any underwear.”
“Wasn’t exactly expecting company.” She tugged on his hair, trying to guide his mouth back to her breasts.
Ezra wanted to do just that, bury his face against those small, plump mounds, fill his hands with the subtle curve of her ass. He wanted to strip her pants away and push her thighs wide, press his mouth against her pussy and see if she tasted as sweet there as he thought she would. But his control was already damned shaky and if he was going to stop, now was the time. Slowly, although it damned near killed him to do it, he stopped touching her and forced his hands down to his sides. “We need to stop now.”
“Why?” she asked, leaning against him. “You didn’t go and change your mind on the friends thing again, did you?”
“Yes … no. Shit. I want us to be friends—yeah. Just want more than that, too, and this is rushing it and if we don’t stop now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop later.” He pressed his mouth to her neck, raking his teeth along her skin. “You’re killing me.”
She smiled. He could feel it against his chest, feel the soft kiss of her breath drifting over his flesh. “I don’t want to stop,” she whispered. “It’s just getting fun.”
Then she reached between them and tugged on the button of his jeans. “I don’t want to stop,” she repeated, freeing the button and then catching the tab of his zipper and easing it down.
Ezra swore as she slid her hand inside his jeans, inside his underwear and closed her fingers around his dick. “Damn it, Lena. You’ve known me for a few weeks. That’s it.”
She pressed her lips to his chin. “I know enough. I know that my dog likes you. I know you’ve got one of the sexiest voices I’ve ever heard. You don’t seem to feel the need to hold my hand or cut my food because I can’t see and you don’t seem to care one way or the other about that, either.” Her lips, soft and warm, brushed along his jawline, then down his neck. “I know that you got pissed at yourself because you touched me and you thought I didn’t want you touching me … and you would have left me alone, as quick as that. And that right there says a lot about you, Ezra King. It says a whole helluva lot.”
He shot a hand into her hair and tugged, guiding her face up so that he could stare down at her. He caught her hand, and as much as it damned near killed him, he tugged her away until those clever, cool fingers were no longer tormenting him and threatening him to destroy what little trace of control remained.
“You’re too damn trusting, baby. You think some slick bastard couldn’t make
you think just those very things, play on it until you were willing to do just this?”
Lena laughed and pushed up on her toes, pressed her lips to his. “I’m sure some slick bastard could try to do just that … and several slick bastards have tried, tried and failed miserably. I’ve got good instincts, Ezra … and you may be slick, you might even be a bit of a bastard when you want. But you’re not one for games.” Then she bit his lower lip. “I’m not much for moving quickly, but I am one for listening to my instincts … and everything inside me wants you.”
Fuck …
Ezra’s hand tightened in her hair and he slammed his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. Count to ten. Ten didn’t work. Try twenty—
Fuck it. He could count to fifteen million and it wasn’t going to do a bit of good. He was burning, his cock hard, his balls on fire, and the only thing that would soothe that blistering heat was Lena. “I should know better than this,” he muttered, lowering his eyes back to her face and staring down at her. “I really, really should. But screw it.”
A smile bloomed on her lips just as he crushed his mouth to hers.
She moaned into his kiss and rose on her toes, arching against him. Her breasts pressed flat against his chest, her belly cradling his cock. Sliding his hands under the waistband of her trousers he shoved them down as far as he could without breaking contact with her mouth. “Naked, Lena. Get naked for me.”
She shimmied her hips and the black cotton fell into a puddle at her feet. Then she leaned back, reaching for the hem of her shirt. Ezra beat her to it, stripping the skimpy tank away and staring down at her. His mouth went dry.
Her breasts were perfect, small, firm mounds, pale as cream, topped with hard nipples. Dipping his head, he caught one in his mouth. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he boosted her up and turned, pressing her up against the wall. She tangled her hands in his hair and arched against him, whimpering under her breath.
Ezra worked a hand between them, unwilling to let her go, but he had to touch her, had to touch her more, had to touch her everywhere. At the first touch of the slick wet heat between her thighs, he shuddered and groaned. “Fuck, Lena … you’re wet.”
She arched against his hand and gasped as he plunged two fingers inside her. The walls of her pussy clenched around him, tight and greedy. “Put me down, Ezra.”
“Why?” He pressed his mouth to her neck and bit her. “I like you just where you’re at.”
“The bedroom.” She whimpered and rocked against his hand. “The bedroom’s upstairs.”
Ezra kissed her, keeping the contact light. “No bedroom, baby. Right here … I’m going to die if I don’t fuck you right here, right now.” He pressed his brow to hers and said, “Is that okay? Please, please, please say that’s okay.”
“Um … that’s more than okay,” she said, her voice breathless.
“Good.” He circled the tip of one finger around her clit, smiling as her long, slender body arched and shuddered. “So damn hot and tight. You’re already so wet for me.”
Her eyes widened, her mouth parted. The heat of her body seemed to skyrocket. Laughing, he leaned in and nipped her lower lip. “You like dirty talk, Lena?”
“Yes.” Then she blushed and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging him close. “I like it when you talk, period.”
If he had any semblance of control left, he just might have pressed his lips to her ear and given her all the dirty talk she could handle, told her how he was dying to bury his mouth against her pussy and see what she tasted like, that he loved the way she smelled like peaches and moved like sin, but his brain was shutting down on him. Shutting down, drowning out anything but the need to lose himself in her.
“I’ll give you plenty of dirty talk. Later. Right now …” He slowly lowered her to the floor and then reached for his wallet. Yeah, just call him a Boy Scout. He grabbed one of the two rubbers he’d shoved inside it and then he dropped the wallet to the floor. He could get it later—he’d need it later, because this first time wasn’t going to last, and there was no way he could get his fill of her in a few minutes.
Hell, a few decades …
He tore the foil wrapper open, but before he could put it on, Lena reached between them. She took it from him, holding it in one hand while she slid her other hand down his chest, along his belly until she could wrap her fingers around his cock. “Carry rubbers around all the time?” she asked, fumbling a little as she unrolled it down over his length.
“No … but hope springs eternal.” He adjusted the rubber and then reached for her, pulling her into his arms.
“Your leg.”
“Leg’s fine,” he rasped, slanting his mouth over hers and boosting her up. It wasn’t—already the muscles were knotting up on him, but he didn’t give a damn. The pain in his thigh was nothing compared to the ache in his cock, in his balls. “Wrap your legs around me, Lena … hold on to me.”
She did and he shuddered as it opened her folds. Nudging against her with the head of his cock, he leaned into her, sank inside … lost himself. He stared into her sightless eyes and felt stripped bare as she curled her hands around his neck. “Fuck, Lena.…”
She arched against him and he sank deeper, deeper inside that long pale body, until the russet curls between her thighs tangled with the thick, coarse hair surrounding his cock. Buried inside her, he blew out a harsh breath and tried to suck in more air. “You okay?”
“No …” she whimpered, working her hips, trying to ride him.
“No?” He could feel her, through the thin latex barrier; she was slick as satin, wet as rain, and burning—burning him, wrapping hot fiery tendrils around his balls and squeezing tight, tight, leaving him torn between exquisite pleasure and near pain. “Not okay?”
“Hell, no. I won’t be until you move.”
He gave a pained laugh and then started to move, stroked deep inside her honeyed depths and shuddered. “Then maybe I should move … like this?” He pulled out until just the head of his cock remained in her snug heat.
“Hmmm. That’s a good start.”
“What about this?” He pushed deep, but stopped a few inches shy of complete impalement.
Lena pouted and rolled her hips against him. “Not so good there … damn it, Ezra, don’t tease me.”
He would have, though. If he could breathe. He would have teased, toyed, and played with her until she was the sweating, desperate mess that he was—until he thought she was even half as desperate for him as he was for her.
But he couldn’t because he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—couldn’t do a damn thing but swivel his hips and bury his length inside her. Again. Again. Her pussy went tight around him, gripping him convulsively, milking him like a hot, tight little fist, and he groaned, desperately.
He was going to lose it—going to come before he’d even had a couple of minutes in heaven, before he gave her even a tenth of the pleasure she was giving him. Working a hand between them, he pressed his thumb against her clit and stroked.
Lena stiffened in his arms and arched up, her head slamming back against the wall. A wild cry escaped her lips and he swore, crushing his mouth down on hers, swallowing her cry, swallowing her moans. “Come for me,” he muttered against her lips.
Too soon—he wasn’t giving her enough—
But she came—like she was already primed for him and all she’d needed was that teasing, taunting touch.
Hot and wild, she exploded for him, her hands tangled in his hair, her legs tightening around his hips. The ache in his balls expanded and he growled against her lips, but now he fought back his own release with a vengeance. Again—he wanted to see it again, and this time, he wanted to watch her as she came, see it in her eyes.
He held back and shifted, reaching down and hooking first her left thigh, then her right over his elbows, leaning into her. Holding her open, exposed, he slowed his thrusts and eased back, stared, watched as he fed one slow inch after another into her heat. She was so f
ucking wet, so damned soft. Beads of moisture gleamed in her curls and he groaned. Needed to taste her—had to, but couldn’t stop.
“Touch yourself,” he rasped and she did. With rapt fascination, he watched as she worked a hand between their bodies and circled one fingertip around her clit. Quick, light circles. Her breathing sped up and he gritted his teeth as she went tight around him. “Don’t come again, not yet, fuck it, you’re killing me. Give me your hand, give me a taste.”
She hesitated.
“I want to lick your fingers, Lena … one taste, give me a taste,” he ordered, staring down at her pink pussy, so desperate to taste her that he might have pulled away and gone down on her, fuck his bad leg, fuck his aching balls. Worth it to taste her—but then she reached up, seeking out his mouth. He leaned in and caught her fingertips between his lips, sucked on them.
Sin. She tasted like sin. Hot, dark, and ripe—
“Fuck, Lena, we should have gone to your room. I want a better taste of you.” He leaned in and kissed her, plunging his tongue inside her mouth and gorging on her. Sweet, she was sweet everywhere.
She arched up against him, moaned into his mouth. Her pussy flexed around him—milked, squeezed …
Ezra lost it. Hard and fast, he shafted her. She cried out against his mouth, and he swallowed it down and rode her until she cried out again, and again, and again … as she came apart in his arms. And then it was his turn, his orgasm ripping from him with near-painful intensity.
He let go of her legs and wrapped his arms around her torso, banding her against him and shuddering, shaking like a man caught in the grip of fever. Shaking. Shuddering. All but dying.
IT WASN’T ENTIRELY UNUSUAL TO SEE A VEHICLE PARKED in front of Lena Riddle’s house.
But he knew the cars he expected to see there.
He was careful—after all, this was his territory and he made sure he knew exactly what took place in his territory.
The truck parked in front of Lena’s house now wasn’t one he wanted to see there.
If You Hear Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense Page 17
