by Maggie Wells
“Did you do what I asked?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Steve’s smile turned rakish, and he relaxed against his chair, toasting her with the wine again. “That’s my girl.” His smile faded slightly as he peered into the glass, then downed half of its contents in one gulp.
Chapter Twelve
Disconcerting.
The word bounced around in her skull as they made their way to Steve’s apartment. Sara caught herself fidgeting and stole a peek at him from the corner of her eye. The man standing beside her in the tiny elevator car had been her best friend for over eight years, but at the moment he seemed a stranger. The whole evening had been...disconcerting.
One minute, they’d be laughing and lobbing the banter they’d perfected over nearly a decade of friendship across the table with practiced ease. The next, his eyes would lock on hers and suddenly she’d be stripped bare. She had never been the focus of that intense stare before. It had always been someone else. Now, she knew what a threat to Christendom her buddy had actually been.
The elevator chimed to signal their arrival, and he moved aside, holding the door back while she stepped into the corridor. The swish of his dark wool overcoat seemed unbearably loud. Her nerves jangled like the keys he pulled from his pocket. The scent of his aftershave, musky and familiar, soothed her senses. He swung open the door to his loft and placed his hand in the small of her back, propelling her forward.
A nervous laugh escaped when she peered about the foyer curiously. “Wow, I guess I haven’t been here for a while.”
“Hasn’t changed much.”
He tossed his keys onto a small table and took her coat, hanging it next to his in the tiny closet. He shrugged out of his suit coat and tossed it over the back of a chair. “Do you want something to drink?”
The wine they had consumed at dinner hummed in her veins. Her brain felt fuzzy, her thoughts muddled. Disconcerted.
“I think I’m okay,” she replied, reassuring herself and declining his offer in one brief statement. She wandered into the living room. Her fingertips grazed the back of the sofa. She nodded to a carved wooden box on the end table. “Is that new?”
“Oh. No, not really. It was my mom’s.”
“Ah.”
Sara glanced over her shoulder to find him hovering just behind her. She moved to the safety of bookshelves bracketing the oversized television and studied the titles stamped on the spines.
“Anything? Water?” Steve asked.
Allowing a nervous little laugh she said, “Water would be good.” She followed him to the kitchen where he pulled two bottles from the refrigerator, uncapped one, and offered it to her.
“I got fancy here too…None of that tacky tap water. Only the good stuff.”
Sara laughed, his lopsided grin putting her at ease once again. She inspected the tiny kitchen. “I can see that you don’t cook very much.”
“How do you know I’m not just very neat?”
She arched one eyebrow. “We’ve met before.”
His voice dropped. “Have we?”
The husky rumble blurred her thoughts. She tried to follow his movements, focusing so intently on his face that she jumped when his hand closed around her waist and pulled her closer. Her breathless laugh echoed off the walls, and he responded with a wolfish grin. “You were too far away.”
A tug at her waist captured her attention. Sara looked down to find his nimble fingers loosening the knot of her belt. She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes when the panels of her dress swished open. Steve crooked one finger under her chin, tipping her head up with his knuckle.
His warm breath tickled her mouth. “Miss me, Sara?”
She licked her lips, trying to chase the tingle. “Yes.”
“Open your eyes.”
She did as he asked, staring back at him boldly. “Weren’t you going to kiss me?”
“Maybe.” His fingertips grazed her skin, tracing the neckline of the dress and trailing along the newly exposed skin between her breasts. “Probably. Did you think about me?”
Clamping her lips shut, she eyed him warily and gave him a single nod. Her heart hammered in her chest.
“I thought about you, darlin’,” he murmured. “I thought about you a lot.”
Warm breath stirred her hair. His hand slid up to her throat, his palm forming to the curve of her neck, his fingertips teasing the pulse throbbing beneath her jaw.
“Did you touch yourself, Sara?” Her lips parted and a tiny moan escaped. “Did you think about me kissing you, touching you?”
She rocked back on her heels, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “Steve...”
He lowered his head, cutting her off by pressing soft, chaste kisses to each corner of her mouth. “Sara.” He whispered her name against her lips, softer than the sweetest kiss.
Winding her arms around his neck, she pulled him down. Her fingers tangled in his hair, the soft waves curling around each digit, anchoring her to him. His mouth closed over hers, and she clung to him, meeting every deliciously deliberate kiss and melting into him. He took each one deeper than the last. The tip of his tongue teased her lower lip, tempting her, but for a moment she resisted the urge to open to him.
Resistance is futile.
The thought made her giggle. Her lips parted. The moment his tongue touched hers all thoughts of laughter, lasers, and lightsabers were chased from her head. His arm tightened around her. He lifted her to the tips of her toes while kissing her right down to the soles of her feet. The backs of her thighs nudged the edge of the countertop. He pushed her up onto the counter, parting the folds of her dress as he stepped away, his chest heaving with arousal.
“Did you touch yourself, Sara?”
She shook her head. “I waited for you.”
He captured her wrist, drawing her hand to his mouth and waiting for her fingers to unfurl. When the tender, vulnerable flesh of her palm lay open to him, he smiled and pressed a lingering kiss to the center.
Sara shivered with suppressed desire. She ran her hand over his hair, calming the tousled russet waves then mussing them all over again.
He pushed the thin knit of her dress over one shoulder and turned her palm to cup her lace-covered breast. “Do it now,” he ordered, nipping at the freckled curve of her shoulder.
“What?”
He stood straight, his eyes falling to the mound of her breast trapped beneath her hand and his. “Show me, Sara.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” Stepping back, his hand fell away. “Touch yourself the way you want me to touch you. Tell me everything you want.”
Wide-eyed, she lowered her hand, glancing around the kitchen. “Here?”
“Now.”
“Steve...”
“You look incredible,” he told her, his voice low and mesmerizing.
Her eyes widened further when he lounged against the counter behind him, crossing one ankle over the other. His eyes looked dark and sleepy, the lids heavy under the burden of his long auburn lashes. She saw his fingers curled around the edge of the counter, the knuckles giving lie to his relaxed pose by turning stark white. Sara felt a surge of power.
She lifted her hand again, her fingertips trailing along the edge of the demi-cup bra she had selected just for him. “You think?” He grunted, or maybe it was more a growl. Either way, the low animal sound that rumbled from his throat was enough to spur her on. “I got this for you,” she whispered. Running her finger under the strap, she let it slip over her bare shoulder.
He blinked slowly, watching the backs of her fingers graze the top of her breast. “Is that what you want? Slow and soft?”
Sara wet her parched lips, noting the way his eyes darted to her mouth with a satisfied smile. “Slow, soft, hard, fast...I want you.”
He swung his foot to the floor, widening his stance. “Show me. Tell me.”
She cupped her breasts, raising them high in her hands, her thumbs and forefingers closing rhythmically
over the tight buds of her nipples. “I want you to hold me in your hands.”
She slipped them into her bra, lifting her breasts from the cups. The cool air caressed her heated skin, and her nipples tightened almost painfully. “I want your mouth, hot and wet.”
“Oh yeah.”
Cradling one breast, she let her other hand drift over her stomach, her fingers toying with the thatch of curls between her legs. Her nails rasped against her mound. “I did what you asked.”
His eyes remained locked on the hand moving between her legs. “Are you wet?”
She dipped one finger into her folds, and he groaned. She stroked herself lightly and held up the finger, showing him the glistening moisture she’d collected. She blinked then gasped, startled by the speed of his movement and the warmth of his mouth closing around her fingertip.
He closed his eyes, his thick lashes resting on his cheekbones while his hot tongue swirled around her skin. He sucked greedily, pulling her finger deeper. She moaned when he released her and he caught it, kissing her hard on the mouth. His fingers tangled in her hair, spreading it over her shoulders, smoothing the ends over her bare breasts as he pulled away.
“I wanna watch you come,” he rasped. He quickly reclaimed his position against the opposite counter.
“I want you to make me come.”
A slow smile spread across his face, lighting his heavy lidded eyes. “Oh, I will, darlin’. Later.” His gaze dropped to her parted thighs. “Did you cuss me?”
“Maybe a little.”
She ran her fingertips along the inside of her thigh, trying to entice him into action. He pushed away from the counter with his hips. He stood tall and straight between her knees, staring into her eyes. “You wanna come, Sara?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Then do it. Slide your fingers in that pretty pink pussy of yours,” he whispered. “Touch yourself now, because soon you’ll be mine. All mine.”
A moan escaped her parted lips. Reaching up, she pressed the tip of her index finger to his full lower lip. He opened his mouth, drawing her finger in again, his tongue swirling around the digit, lapping her up then releasing her abruptly. “Do it.”
She lowered her hand between their bodies. Her eyes locked on his, and she opened her knees further. A low groan caught in his throat. His gaze fixed on the finger slick from his mouth sliding into her. The heat of his dark stare nearly scorched her. She stroked her wet pussy for his viewing pleasure, her own excitement pulsing low and deep in her belly. “Like that?”
“Just like that.” Bracing his hands on her knees, he pulled them apart. “What do you want?”
“Your mouth.” She circled her clit with her damp finger and then plunged it into her throbbing cunt.
“Oh yeah. Licking you, tasting you, sucking you. I wanna fuck you with my tongue, Sara.”
Her breath hissed from between her teeth. She thrust two fingers into the damp heat, the heel of her hand teasing the taut bud of her clit.
“Can you feel it?” he whispered, watching her stroke herself hard and fast. “Tight. Hot. Squeezing your fingers.” He looked up, his eyes hazy with lust. “When you come, Sara...When you come, it’s amazing.”
Her free hand curled around the thick muscle of his bicep, clutching him when her pussy closed around her fingers. “Oh!”
“When you come, I want...” He stared straight into her eyes. “So good. It feels so good, Sara.”
Her breath caught in her throat; a squeak slipped past her lips. Her climax coiled taut and ached deep in her belly.
“When you come...When I’m deep inside you...I could die happy, Sara.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!” she cried. Her control snapped, her orgasm unraveling, leaving her breathless and panting.
“Sara.” Her thighs trembled. She could feel his fingers digging into her flesh, but at that moment she doubted even Steve could anchor her. “Sara,” he coaxed in a whisper.
Her hand slowed, and she tried to force her brain to engage. “Nuh.”
He smiled, raising one hand to stroke her hair, smoothing it away from her damp forehead. “Sara, are you ready for me?”
She blinked rapidly, desperate to regain a modicum of self-control. “Steve,” she began hesitantly.
“Say yes. The answer is yes.”
She stared into those liquid brown eyes, dissolving into their bottomless depths. Wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, she held his gaze and nodded slowly. “Yes.”
Chapter Thirteen
A sharp stab of regret pierced his heart as he stepped into the bedroom and reluctantly loosened his hold on her luscious ass. He nuzzled her tangled hair and whispered, “Down.”
Sara slithered to her feet, grasping his biceps for balance and treating him to a dazed smile when he groaned. “Sorry about that. Still a little wobbly.”
Her blonde hair clung to her damp cheek. The panels of the wrap dress he had so gleefully unwrapped swung loose and open, teasing him with tantalizing glimpses of her flushed skin. He reached to steady her and pushed the thin fabric from one shoulder. “Oops,” he said with a smirk.
“Uh-huh.”
“Let’s just...” He slid the dress from her other shoulder, dragging the dangling straps of her bra down her arm. Fabric pooled at feet. “Much better.”
She glanced at her shoes then back up at him. “On or off?” she asked, arching one eyebrow.
“On. For now.”
“Yessir.” She hooked one finger in the knot in his tie and pulled him down for a kiss.
Her lips were swollen from his kisses and moist with anticipation. The memory of cherry-flavored lip gloss clung to the tender skin, and it made his head spin. The last of his breath escaped his lungs as he drew away, fighting against the desire weighting his eyelids.
“You look beautiful.”
She tugged at the knot. “You’re overdressed again.”
He brushed her hand away, tugging at the noose around his neck. Her eyes widened then narrowed with interest.
“Are you going to strip for me?”
The tie unraveled, and he wasted no time yanking it from his collar. “Something like that,” he murmured.
He stroked her arm, trapping the silken fabric between his skin and hers. Taking her hand, he wound one end of the tie around her wrist. Sara gasped, and he stepped closer, pressing his body to hers as he drew her arms behind her back.
“Okay?” he whispered, tightening the knot that held her hands bound against the curve of her bottom.
She closed her eyes, rocking back on her heels. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Look at me, Sara.”
The moment her aqua gaze met his, he began to unbutton his shirt. He took his time, unbuttoning the cuffs while gauging the quickening of her breath by the rise and fall of her breasts. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grabbing her when her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips. The clink of his belt buckle earned another soft moan. Her nipples puckered into hard points. She shifted slightly, spreading her feet as his pants slid down his legs.
“Are you gonna show me yours?” she asked breathlessly.
“That was the general idea.”
“You are?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Like I did in there?”
He laughed and shook his head, toeing off his shoes. “No.”
Stepping out of his pants, he stripped off his briefs and socks. When he straightened, he met her inquiring gaze. He smirked and purposefully exaggerated his drawl. “But I’ll tell you all about it if that’ll help, Miss Sara.”
Wordlessly, he placed his hands on her shoulders, exerting the gentlest of pressure then exhaling in a rush when she sank to her knees.
Sara looked up, meeting his gaze boldly. “Tell me what you want.”
Her lips closed around the head of his cock, and his entire body jerked. For one crazy, harebrained moment, he was tempted to tell her the whole truth. He wanted to confess the nights he’d slinked home r
eeking of other women’s perfume but thinking about her mouth wrapped around him as he jerked off again. Her tongue slid over his skin, tracing the vein that ran the length of his dick and teasing the very tip, driving him out of his mind.
“I want you,” he rasped.
She moaned, parting her lips and pulling him into her mouth. Her tongue wrapped around him like velvet. The heat of her mouth sent a shiver up his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he clenched his fists, pushing deeper. She knelt in front of him, the embodiment of eight long years of dreams and fantasies come true.
“God, Sara, I thought about this...On your knees...your mouth.”
She hummed her approval and took him deeper. The vibration trapped in her throat shot through his body. For one breathtaking moment, he feared he’d come in seconds. His toes curled into the rug as panic gripped his gut. Her red lips clamped around him. Her wicked tongue swirled around the head of his cock. She drew him deep, her throat muscles working against him. His control frayed and panic flared. She had to stop. Oh god, he didn’t want her to stop…He needed to think…regroup...wrest control from her pretty little hands and hot mouth.
Seizing on his fear, Steve mustered just enough strength to push her away. Sara yelped in surprise and toppled onto her side, unable to catch herself with her hands bound behind her back. “Wha...”
“Sorry. Sorry,” he panted, stooping to help her up. “I, uh...It felt too good.” He grasped her arms, steadying her when she teetered on her high heels.
“Last I heard, it was supposed to feel good.”
“I was...I didn’t want to lose control.”
Her scowl morphed into a smile. “I like you out of control.”
He rolled his eyes, skimming the palms of his hands down her arms. “Doesn’t take much with you.”
Her smile widened into a grin, and she wriggled her arm. His heart stopped when she easily pulled one hand free, proving him a complete failure at the bondage gambit. “Aw, crap.”
