by Maggie Wells
Steve sighed heavily. “I’ll bring wine.”
She sat still, listening to his soft, even breaths as they echoed through the phone.
“No one is like you, Sara. You know that, right?”
She bit her lip and drew a deep breath, unwilling to give in to the smile of pure feminine pleasure threatening to break through her pout. She forced her voice to be deliberately light and teasing when she whispered, “Have sweet dreams, Steve.”
His voice was rich with laughter and smooth as molasses as he replied, “Darlin’, I think we both know they’re gonna be.”
Chapter Six
Steve throttled the neck of an innocent bottle of Merlot as he climbed the steps to Sara’s apartment. He balled his hand into a fist to keep from peeling his suit coat from his shoulders. He wanted to sling the jacket over his shoulder in hopes that Sara would fall to her knees and act out the scene she described in such vivid detail the night before.
Too obvious. Too desperate. Cool, play it cool. Do not jump her the minute she opens the door. Let her take the lead.
The days that passed since their first encounter allowed him to catch up on his required reading. He plowed through each of her books, searching for snippets of himself in her characters and coming up empty. Still, it wasn’t a complete loss. Buried deep in his desk drawer was an old electric bill envelope covered in notes. Over the last two days, he made diligent lists of things her heroines seemed to like and, much to his chagrin, her heroes’ leading characteristics.
Apparently, Sara liked the bossy, commanding type. I can do that. Steve closed his eyes as he raised his fist to knock. Be in charge. Be strong. Don’t act like a lovesick puppy dog. Got it.
The pep talk continued as his knuckles rapped the door. He just hoped he didn’t go blank the minute the test began. Sara opened the door, and a tiny frisson of fear skittered down his spine.
Okay, hang on, hang on. Breathe. Do not jump her. I can do this. I can do this.
She stared up at him, and he struggled to keep his face neutral as he scanned the snug, stretchy pants she wore with a pink zippered hoodie. He tried for a cool, sardonic smirk. Those seemed to go over well in her books. “I’m overdressed.”
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Hey.”
His brain tried to issue the command to give her his customary hug, but his synapses seemed to be on strike. Her smile faltered a bit, and he wanted to kick his own ass.
“Are you coming in?” she asked, a note of apprehension creeping into her voice.
“Yeah.”
Sara stepped back, and the opportunity for the hug was lost. Instead, he held up the bottle of wine for her inspection and said, “Is this okay?”
Sara nodded. “Perfect. Thank you.”
She took the bottle he offered and turned toward the kitchen. “Dinner is in the oven, but it’ll be a little while.”
She checked over her shoulder as if she was uncertain he would follow. Steve felt an almost irrepressible urge to laugh. How could she not know I’d follow her over a cliff?
He stopped in the doorway, figuring the eight feet separating them might be enough to keep from launching himself at her. Sara placed the bottle on the counter and bent to rifle through a drawer. The smooth knit of her black pants stretched enticingly over her ass, and Steve lost the thread tethering him to self-control.
Oh hell.
“How long is a little while?” he asked abruptly.
Sara pulled a corkscrew from the drawer, wincing as she glanced from his face to the clock on the stove and back. “Thirty minutes or so, I guess. Why? Are you in a hurry?”
The slight tremor of nervousness in her voice did him in. Steve crossed the room in three long strides and grasped her waist, pulling her roughly to him.
“Yep,” he said, his voice gruff and deep.
“Oh, well, hello!” Tipping her head back, she grinned at him.
“Hey.”
The kiss was hot and demanding on both sides. His lips parted, and his teeth scraped hers. Sara turned toward him, straightening her torso until she was pressed flush against his body.
Steve pulled back, ignoring her grunt of disappointment as he raised both hands to her face. He pushed her hair back, his thumbs caressing her jaw, and he held her there, staring into her eyes.
“I was afraid you weren’t happy to see me.”
“I thought about you, Sara. I thought about you all day,” he said in a harsh whisper. “Happy now?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He dipped his head and kissed her tenderly. Her lips clung to his so sweetly, and warning bells clamored in his head. He pulled back, using a fraction of a second to capture the emotion welling inside of him in a choke hold. His arms banded around her like steel, lifting her from the floor. Sara yelped in surprise.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered.
She complied, her thighs gripping his hips like a vise. His hands slid down to her ass, cradling her against him as he turned on his heel.
Her lips teased the skin of his throat. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer. Instead he strode straight to her bedroom, kicking the door wider and carrying her directly to her bed. Sara laughed when he dropped her unceremoniously on the mattress. She beamed up at him as he reached for his tie and began to yank on the knot.
Sara scrambled to her knees, brushing his hands away. “You’re gonna tear it.”
“I don’t care,” he said, letting his hands fall to her hips.
His fingers pressed into her flesh when Sara pulled the tie from his collar, letting the silk dangle from her fingers before it slithered to the floor. He kept his eyes fixed on hers while she opened the top button on his shirt. A ragged exhale marked the first crack in his reserve.
Sara smiled. “What about dinner?” Her tone may have been teasing, but her body was taunting when she swayed against his chest.
“I don’t give a damn about dinner.”
He reached for the zipper on her sweater and jerked it down six inches. Sara drew in a sharp breath. His eyes fell to her breasts. His breath stirred the wisps of hair trailing over her shoulder.
“Aren’t you starving? You’re always starving.”
Steve’s lips twitched into a smile. “I am. I am starving.”
He cupped the back of her neck and tugged on her hair. Sara’s lips parted in shock, and he took full advantage, kissing her as if he’d been unleashed.
His mouth ravaged hers. She clung to his shoulders, her fingers bunching the fabric of his suit coat. His tongue swept over her teeth then plunged into her mouth to tangle with hers.
Sara burrowed under his coat until she found the curve of his ass. She squeezed him roughly, pulling him closer to the edge of the bed. Taking control.
That’s my job. He jerked away.
“What?” she asked, breathless and bewildered.
He shook his head then pressed both hands to her shoulders, propelling her back across the bed. Resting on her elbows, Sara stared up at him wide-eyed. He straightened and shrugged out of his coat, tossing it over the nearest bedpost.
Her gaze lingered on the jacket. By the time she turned her attention back to him, he had his shirt half unbuttoned. He yanked the tails from his waistband, dragging up the t-shirt he wore beneath.
Sara watched, her bare toes curling into the quilt. Her lips parted. Her hips circled, sending subliminal messages straight to his crotch. His undershirt bunched over his stomach, stretching taut across his chest when he yanked his hands free from his cuffs. He peeled the undershirt off as he toed off one shoe then the other.
“I love the way you multitask,” she murmured.
Her easy use of the ‘L’ word gave him a shot of courage. He fixed her with what he hoped was a devilish grin. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
Sara’s smile was instantaneous. She reached for the tab of her zipper, but he stopped her with a single word.
“No.”<
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“No?” she asked, her fingers frozen in place.
He grasped her wrist and pulled it away. She stared at the long fingers clamped around the delicate bone. A shiver passed down her spine when he carefully relinquished his hold on her. Her hand fell away, resting on the faded patchwork quilt covering her bed while he unbuckled his belt. Her eyelids grew heavy. She blinked lazily as he unfastened his pants. The rasp of his zipper echoed through the room like machine gun fire.
Sara stared at the ceiling. “So wet,” she whispered.
He fumbled his way through the rest of his clothing. His belt clinked when his pants hit the floor. “You are?”
Sara circled her hips enticingly. “You make me so wet. Thinking about you.”
He yanked the zipper on her sweater, freeing the tab from the catch and spreading it open to bare her lace-covered breasts. “Keep talking,” he ordered. Pressing one knee into the mattress, he caught his weight on his hands, ranging over her.
She raised her head, opening her eyes and staring at him solemnly as she wet her lips. Her hands splayed across his chest. “I’ve never been so wet. I want you so much.”
A surge of electricity arced between them. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He licked his lips then asked the question he both loved and feared. “Did you write?”
Sara swallowed hard and lowered her eyes as she gave him a mute nod. She bit her full lower lip. He bent to kiss her, teasing the afflicted flesh from her teeth.
“How can I want you this much?” she asked in a rush.
Her breathless question hung in the air for a moment. As he kissed hard and hot, he recalled one particularly steamy passage of the book he read the night before and found inspiration. “I’m gonna love you, Sara.”
She answered him with a soft moan. He trailed kisses from her mouth to her cheek to her ear. “I’m going to make you so wet, you’ll beg to have me inside of you,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
She shuddered. Steve smiled when goose bumps rose on her arm. A caress of his thumb stroked them away. “There isn’t an inch of you I won’t know. There isn’t a freckle on your body that won’t be mine.”
“Touch me, please touch me.”
He nipped at her earlobe and shifted to plant his thigh between hers. “I will.”
Sara grasped handfuls of his hair and pulled his head up. “Now! Oh, god, I’m so close,” she said in a rush.
Her bright blue eyes pled with him. She arched off the bed, rubbing the mound of her pussy against his thigh shamelessly. He almost swallowed his tongue. She bore down on him, grinding against his leg, the damp seams of her yoga pants rasping against the hair on his thigh.
A laugh bubbled from his stomach, rumbling through his chest to tickle his throat. He didn’t dare let it out, but he couldn’t tear his half-amused, half-amazed gaze from her. His hand closed over her breast and squeezed, testing to see how little it would take to send her over the edge. Her fingernails dug into his bare thigh, and she pushed against him wantonly, her eyes fixed on his stiff cock.
He glanced down, following the line of her vision. “You wanna suck me, Sara?” he asked in a low, teasing tone.
“Oh God!”
She shuddered as her climax rolled through her body. Steve watched, immobilized by the play of pleasure across her features. The fact that he had a part in that pleasure rocked him to the soles of his feet.
The tremors began to subside, and he rolled over onto his side, spreading his fingers proprietarily over her bare stomach while she came down. Sara opened her eyes, and he couldn’t suppress his smile any longer.
He arched one eyebrow. “Now I don’t feel so bad for jumpin’ the gun a bit the other night.”
She gave his shoulder a shove. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not laughin’ at you. I couldn’t be happier right now if you had the winning lottery ticket tucked inside your panties.”
“I’m not wearing any panties.”
Steve grunted like he’d taken a sucker-punch. “Even better.” He rolled up to sit beside her, reaching for the waistband of her pants and jerking them down with one deft tug. “Lift up for me.”
Sara did as she was told, and he stripped the stretchy cotton down her legs, dropping them over the side of the bed. He wrapped his hands around her ankles, his palms pressing against her as he slid them slowly up her legs.
“I’ve never been like that,” she whispered.
His attention diverted by the neatly trimmed thatch of light brown curls between her legs, his head popped up, unsure if he had heard her correctly. “Like what?”
“I’ve never been...It’s never been that easy.” Sara blushed, and his heart tripped all over itself in his chest. “I’ve always taken a while to... you know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Nothing wrong with that at all.” He parted her legs and knelt between them.
Sara shook her head. A slow smile curved her lips. “I don’t know how I knew, but I just knew it would be like this.”
His fingertips trailed along the curve of her calf. “Us?”
“Yes.”
Startled from his frank perusal of her naked body, he grinned. “Think we got it out of our systems?”
“I hope not.”
He watched her squirm as his fingers played over the sensitive skin inside her thighs. He grinned. “I meant the hair-trigger thing. We’ll be good now. At least, I will be.”
“You will?”
“Yeah, I can handle this now that I know I’m gonna get to do this again and again.”
“You think so?”
“I know so,” he replied, flashing a cocky smile.
“Smug bastard.”
“I am smug.” Steve abandoned his explorations and planted his hands on the bed to crawl back up over her. “But I assure you, I know who my daddy is,” he drawled, gazing down into her eyes. “The only problem is I don’t know where to start.”
“No?”
Shifting his weight to one hand, he pressed his finger to her lips. “You’re beautiful when you come, Sara.” A tiny moan escaped her lips, humming against his finger. “Your mouth is so beautiful. I want to watch my cock slide between these soft, sexy lips.”
Sara opened her mouth and drew his finger onto her tongue, keeping her eyes locked on his as she sucked ardently. A breathy laugh whooshed from his lips as he pulled back, dragging his damp finger from her mouth, down her throat, and between her breasts. He used that finger to lift the front clasp away from her breastbone then opened it with a flick of his thumb.
“Talent,” she murmured.
He glanced down at the satin cups clinging to the hardened tips of her breasts and muttered, “I’m good for a little more than recovering files you pretend to delete.”
“You are.”
He peeled the fabric away, baring her. Gathering the soft mounds in both hands, Steve pushed them together as he bent forward, capturing one furled pink nipple between his teeth. His eyes flickered up to make sure she was watching. His teeth sank into the taut flesh.
Sara bowed off of the bed. He pushed her back down, laving the afflicted nipple with his tongue while his fingers pinched the other roughly. He pulled back, his breath causing her flesh to bead tighter. She moaned and ran her hands through his hair, scraping her nails along his scalp.
Steve didn’t dare touch her the way he wanted. The gentle, reverent touch he had pictured in his head so many times wasn’t what she’d written. She wanted hot, demanding, and passionate; and he was determined to be the guy who gave it to her. He dragged his tongue the length of the plush valley between her breasts and then pushed them together again.
“So soft,” he murmured, his fingers closing convulsively around the full mounds. He shook his head to clear it and peered up at her. “It’s too much. There’s too much I want to do with you, but all I can think about is burying myself deep in your pussy.”
“Oh yes,” she exhaled, her body archi
ng to find his.
“Do you want that?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
He slipped one hand between her legs, groaning deep in his chest the moment he brushed her damp curls. The tips of his fingers tickled the swollen lips of her sex, and she writhed, parting her legs further in blatant invitation. Trailing one finger through her folds, Steve parted her. He pulled his finger from her, his lips parting as her juices gleamed against his skin.
“I told you,” Sara whispered.
“You did.” His eyes met hers, and he touched his finger to his lips to taste her. “Oh, yes, ma’am, you did.”
His eyes locked on hers as he sucked her juices from his finger, and she gasped. He thrust his wet finger into her heat again, and she cried out. He withdrew, reveling in her soft whimper. “Wanna taste?” he asked, tracing her bottom lip with his fingertip.
Her eyes widened, and she swallowed hard. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. He lowered his hand again, pushing his finger back into her and stroking her hard and fast before withdrawing again.
“I have a better idea,” he said as he fell forward, catching his weight on both hands.
The head of his cock pressed against her damp nest of curls. He grasped her wrists and pinned them up above her head. Sara moaned and then raised her hips, changing the angle so his cock pressed against her entrance.
“Oh yes, much better,” she whispered.
He grasped her thigh, pulling it up onto his hip. His breath seeped from his lungs as he pressed into her heat. “Fuck.”
“That was the idea.” She groped his ass and pulled him deeper.
“You have no idea.” He tried to hold himself still for a moment, long enough to gather his wits and a teensy bit of self-control. “Jesus, God, you’re hot. So tight,” he ground out as if he were in pain.
“And you’re hard, so hard,” she answered. “Now fuck me.”
He thrust into her, grinding against her each time his pelvis met hers. A laugh bubbled from her lips, and he faltered. His hips slowed and he tilted his head, studying her triumphant expression for a moment. He pulled out before she could stop him.
