Passionate Kisses

by Various

  Liz pulled over and put the hazard lights on. Rachel leaped out of the car, ran to some bushes, and tossed her cookies. Liz shook her head. So much for Clubbing Liz and Rachel. It just wasn’t their scene.

  After she’d tucked Rachel into bed at her apartment above the bookstore, she found herself too wound up to go home. Without giving herself a chance to think too hard, she made the short drive to Ryan’s house. He’d said she could come over. She pulled into his driveway and checked her cell—1:02 a.m. Maybe she should have called. She stood at his front door and called his cell. One, two, three rings…

  “O’Hare,” he answered sleepily.

  “It’s Liz. I’m here.”

  “Be right down.”

  A few moments later, he opened the front door, wearing low-slung jeans and nothing else. This was way better than accountant Wes. All that golden tanned skin, sculpted muscles, the way he filled out those jeans. Heat pooled through her body.

  “Hello,” he said warmly. His eyes lit with anticipation.

  This was it. Time for her to show her interest. Rachel said all she had to do was get naked.

  “I’m not into accountants,” she announced, stepping inside the foyer and unbuttoning her shirt.

  “Good,” he said before his mouth crashed down over hers. She heard the door slam shut, and then his hands took over for her, unbuttoning her shirt while she roamed her hands over all the delicious warm skin of his chest. Bonus points to Rachel. Naked works!

  His mouth trailed hot kisses down her neck, and she realized with a start that her shirt was gone. She had a moment of panic. The light was on. Her breasts were small. She couldn’t compare to all the women he’d—

  “Damn,” he muttered, gazing at her pink lace pushup bra. She sent a silent thank you to the saleswoman at a certain Secret shop she’d visited just in case she got the nerve to show up here tonight. In place of her usual practical white cotton bra and silk no-line panties, she wore the pink bra with a tiny matching panty that showed a little more cheek than she was used to, but the saleswoman had assured her was “totally the rage.”

  He slid her bra straps down, his mouth raining hot kisses from her collarbone down to her breasts while his hand made short work of the bra, flicking open the front clasp and sliding it off her. He sucked a pebbled nipple into his mouth, and her brain blissfully shut down. She closed her eyes as an answering tug in her womb nearly undid her. She threaded her fingers through his caramel brown hair as he moved to the other breast, then rose to reclaim her mouth.

  She returned the kiss with wild abandon, throwing her arms around his neck, plastering her body against his. His hands were everywhere, sliding down her back, caressing her bottom, her hips, her breasts. He broke the kiss only to scoop her up in his arms.

  A flash of panic went through her from the last humiliating time he’d carried her. She smacked his shoulder frantically. “Put me down!”

  He did as she asked. He stared at her, his hazel eyes dark with passion, searching her face. She stared back, feeling her cheeks burn, unable to explain herself without reminding them both of The Humiliation.

  He reached out with one hand and gently cupped her face. Slowly, he dipped his head to place a tender kiss on her temple, her jaw, the sensitive spot under her ear. She let out a soft sigh and turned her head, meeting his lips again. He took his time now, a slow tender exploration, his hands stroking up and down her back.

  She got bolder, stroking her tongue against his, letting her hands roam across his chest, his flat nipples, sliding lower to the top of his jeans. Feeling bold, she toyed with the waistband.

  “Upstairs,” he said in a husky whisper.

  She began to climb the steps.

  He walked with her, his large hand cupped low on her bottom, his fingers reaching underneath with a gentle pressure, making already warm areas of her anatomy scorching hot. Her body answered with a pulsing throb. They reached the bedroom. He turned on the bedside lamp, and before she could say lights out, he was kissing her again, slowly guiding her to his bed.

  Without warning, he scooped her up.

  “Don’t!” But then he was already setting her down on the soft mattress. He lay over her, resting his weight on his arms. She took in the hard angles of his face, the dark stubble that always made him look a little dangerous, his eyes at half mast, clouded with desire, and something shifted within her. She’d done that. Somehow she’d made this gorgeous sexy man desire her.

  Feeling more confident, she opened her arms to him and lost herself in another hot, deep kiss as his hand ran up the inside of her thigh. She opened for him, and he massaged her center through her pants. She arched against his hand, little moans escaping from her throat. He undid her pants, easing the zipper down, sliding his hand over the lace swatch of damp fabric. He pulled away to quickly slide off her pants, and she wriggled her hips to help get out of them. He swatted a nearly bare butt cheek. “Damn, woman.”

  “They’re totally the rage,” she informed him before grabbing the blanket to cover up. She slid off the panties under the covers. She’d never looked good in a bikini, being more of a pear shape with average legs. The handful of men she’d been with—okay, three men—had done everything they needed to do under the covers.

  His mouth brushed hers. “Don’t hide. You’re beautiful.”

  “I’m not hiding.” She avoided his eyes. “I’m just cold.”

  He dropped his jeans and briefs on the floor. Her mouth went dry. Holy cocktails is right. What she’d only guessed at through his jeans was…amazing and…a little intimidating. She tightened her hold on the blanket.

  “You look hot to me.” He snatched the blanket away and took its place, covering her with the warmth of his body. He kissed her then, and just as she was starting to get used to the feel of his hard body against hers, he levered himself down, kissing his way down her body.

  This was a man who took his time. Kissing, tasting, nipping. She was writhing underneath him by the time he reached her center, placing a hot kiss there and then lingering. She fisted her hands in his hair, wanting to pull him away, knowing this hadn’t worked for her the one time Craig had tried it.

  “No,” she told him, her voice not entirely steady.

  He lifted his head to look at her. “Give me one minute, and you’ll be begging for more.”

  Her whole body shivered at that arrogant promise. Not waiting for her answer, he lowered his head, his mouth working magic. Now she clutched at his hair to keep him there, but it didn’t matter, he wasn’t going anywhere. His hands cupped her bare bottom, lifting her right where he wanted her.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she chanted as the pressure built unbearably. She screamed as she found her release, shuddering with pleasure.

  “Liz Garner is a screamer,” he said, sounding both pleased and a little cocky.

  She lay there, limp and satisfied. “I’ve never screamed like that in my life.”

  She heard a rustle from the nightstand, and then he was back, entering her slowly, letting her adjust to his size. She gasped.

  He stilled. “You okay?”

  “It’s been a while,” she admitted.

  “You feel incredible. Wrap your legs around me.”

  She did. He took his time until she couldn’t take the slow torture anymore and grabbed his butt to finish the deal. Lord, how he filled her. He groaned and lowered his mouth to her ear. “I want to make you scream again.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. It’s too soon.”

  He grasped her hips, angling her up, and began a slow rhythm. Within an embarrassingly short amount of time, she felt the tension coil within her, until she was on the edge, panting, grasping at him, urging him to pump faster, to give her the release she needed.

  He ignored her frantic hands and held her to his rhythm.

  “Ryan, please,” she begged.

  “Open your eyes,” he demanded.

  She did. His were hot, intense.

  He increased the
rhythm, but not enough, not nearly enough. Liz was feeling crazed on the knife edge of release.

  He slipped a hand between them and stroked the hard nub at her center. She screamed as she came, her body pulsing around him. He thrust quickly now, taking his own release as more waves of pleasure coursed through her until finally he exploded inside her.

  He sagged forward, breathing hard. Liz held him in a state of total awe, feeling his heart pounding against her. It had never been like that for her before. Sex had always been a quick, wham-bam thing that she now realized was all about her ex-boyfriends’ pleasure and not hers. Ryan made it about her. She felt giddy with pure joy and found herself smiling. Liz decided right then and there that she’d take Mr. Right Now if it meant she could have mind-blowing sex.

  Ryan kissed her hair, then rolled to his back. She curled up against him, resting her head on his chest.

  “I’m glad you came over,” he said, the sound reverberating through his chest.

  She smiled. “Me too.” Satisfied and sleepy, she fell asleep listening to the solid thump of his heart.

  She woke at the crack of dawn and slipped out of bed. She’d never had casual sex and wanted desperately to avoid any awkward scene that ended with him shooing her out the door. Leaving now would be easier for both of them. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t want any nosy neighbors to see her doing the walk of shame to her car.

  She took one more peek at Ryan. He was sprawled on his back, his chest moving up and down in deep sleep, his long lashes fanning his cheek. She found herself leaning toward him. He was so beautiful. He stirred a little in his sleep. She jumped back. Then she straightened the blanket where she’d slept, dressed quickly, and slipped into the hallway.

  Feeling guilty for sneaking away, she pulled a small notepad from her purse, wrote a quick note, and left it on the nightstand.

  ~ ~ ~

  Ryan woke feeling satisfied, a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time. He smiled, remembering Liz’s screaming orgasms from last night, even better than the moans he’d planned to coax out of her. He reached over for her, hoping for round two. The bed was empty. He propped up on one elbow. “Liz?”

  No answer. And she’d made the bed on her side. He turned and spied a note folded neatly on his nightstand. He unfolded it. Two words: Thank you.

  A damn thank you note? Thoroughly pissed, he crumpled it up and headed for the shower. Fine, he was a booty call. He’d had those before, but he’d thought things were different with Liz. The sex had been freaking fantastic. Her hot little body was so responsive, her reactions so honest. Some of the women he’d been with turned sex into performance art.

  He turned on the hot water and waited for it to steam. His last thought before he’d fallen asleep was that he couldn’t wait to do it all over again. Usually he was eager to get out the door. Instead, Liz had been the one eager to get out the door.

  What kind of person leaves a thank you note for sex? He stepped into the shower.

  Only Liz.

  Unfailingly proper and polite, even after a hot tangle between the sheets.

  He smiled. They weren’t done yet.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ryan elbowed Trav out of the way, basketball firmly in hand, spun, and executed a perfect arcing basket. “Now who’s getting old?” he ribbed his younger brother.

  Trav rolled his eyes. “Still you, bro.” He snagged the basketball and dribbled away, doing some fancy footwork Ryan had taught him when they were kids. Ryan anticipated Trav’s next move and stole the ball out from under him. Another perfect basket. On a perfect day. A Sunday barbecue after he’d spent the night with Liz.

  Shane came out of the house with a cooler and set it out on the nearby patio. “You guys want a drink?”

  Trav took advantage of the distraction and knocked the ball out of Ryan’s hands, racing toward the basket. Ryan let him.

  He pulled his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face. “Thanks,” he told Shane. “I could use a drink.”

  “We’ve only been playing for twenty minutes,” Trav said with a cocky smile. “Where’s your stamina, old man?”

  Ryan punched him half-heartedly.

  “Boys! Kindness is how I raised you. Not fists,” Gran called, carrying over a bag of her favorite Milano cookies (essential to any family get-together she always said). She hugged each of her grandsons, ignoring the sweat pouring off two of them.

  Ryan took the bag of cookies. “How you feeling, Gran?” He put an arm lightly around her shoulders and walked with her to the backyard, where she could sit in the shade of the patio umbrella.

  Gran pushed his arm off her shoulders. “I’m good, but you smell like a locker room. Go shower.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said with a grin.

  When they reached the patio, Shane, ever the host, even when it wasn’t his house, handed Ryan a Gatorade and Trav a Sam Adams. His brothers weren’t traumatized by their father’s drinking, thanks to Ryan’s sheltering of them. He’d tried beer in high school. The taste had revolted him. Just as well. He never wanted to be like that asshole.

  “Hello-ooo?”

  Ryan turned, shocked to see Liz approaching. She wore snug blue shorts and a red tank top. Her hair was up in a ponytail, revealing the earrings he’d given her for her birthday. He remained speechless over both her showing up and her decidedly unbuttoned outfit. Had he done that to her? Loosened her up right into sexy clothes? God, she was hot.

  “Hey, Liz, thanks for coming,” Shane said.

  “What are you doing here?” Ryan asked.

  “Ryan!” Gran scolded.

  “I invited her,” Shane said.

  He turned and stared at his brother, then slowly turned back to Liz.

  She smiled and pink flooded her cheeks. “Shane invited me at dance class. Nice to see everyone. I brought carrot cake from Garner’s.”

  “Wonderful!” Gran exclaimed.

  Liz handed Shane the cake, and he bent to kiss her cheek. A white-hot surge of jealousy speared through Ryan, and he barely resisted knocking his brother down. He felt like a snarling Neanderthal. Next he’d be throwing Liz over his shoulder and carrying her back to his cave. He perked up at the thought.

  “Have you been practicing your cha-cha?” Shane asked.

  Liz laughed. “Not since we tried it.”

  Ryan was done wasting time. He crossed to Liz and kissed her long and hard, ignoring their audience. He released her. She wobbled for a moment, and he kept a steady hand on her back.

  “Get a room,” Trav said.

  Shane whistled under his breath.

  “Hush, boys,” Gran said.

  Ryan pointed a finger of warning at Shane and Trav.

  Shane broke the stunned silence. “Is Rachel coming?”

  Liz smoothed her hair. “Oh, I’m sorry. I meant to tell you. She’s at the zoo with her sister and her nieces and nephew.”

  Ryan felt like a dope. Shane was asking about Rachel. He wasn’t trying to get in Liz’s pants. Not that he would’ve gotten there anytime soon. He moved at a snail’s pace when he was interested in someone.

  “How’s Daisy?” Trav asked.

  “She’s good,” Liz said. “Eight months now.”

  Ryan turned to go in the house for his shower when he heard Trav say, “I beat his butt in basketball. The old man can’t hack it anymore.”

  Liz giggled. Ryan turned and gave his brother the one-finger salute. A gesture that Liz missed because her back was to him. Trav blew him a kiss. Damn nuisance little brothers.

  ~ ~ ~

  Liz had to force herself to focus on Trav as he told her some funny stories of working with his landscape crew. She was still shaken and hot from Ryan’s kiss in front of everyone.

  And the urge to join him in that shower.

  Trav was a bit of a rascal, always joking. He used to get in trouble a lot. She still remembered the time he’d stolen some letters from the high school sign. Instead of Clover Park High, it read: lover High. The
police had gotten involved, but he’d gotten off with community service, mowing lawns and cleaning up around town.

  When Trav finished the story of his crew boss, who drank from a can of Coke that one of the guys had used as a piss can, he offered to get Liz a drink.

  “Um, I’m okay,” she said, not feeling especially thirsty with the Coke story fresh in her mind.

  “I’m gonna get the burgers and dogs started,” he said, heading into the house.

  She joined Maggie under the shaded umbrella. Shane went in the house too, and, a moment later, jazz pumped out through the outside speakers. He returned, handing Liz a glass of chilled white wine.

  “Thank you.” Shane was so thoughtful. He remembered she liked white wine.

  “You’re welcome.” He popped open a Sam Adams from a nearby cooler and joined them in one of the chairs around the patio table.

  “So, you and Ryan, huh, Liz?” Shane asked.

  She shrugged. “It’s nothing serious.”

  “Is that what he told you?” Maggie asked. “I’ll have a talk with him.” She stood.

  “No!” Liz placed a staying hand on her arm. “Maggie, please, he didn’t say that. It’s just casual between us, that’s all.” She could just picture Maggie yanking back the shower curtain to lecture a naked Ryan.

  “Do it, Gran,” Trav urged from where he stood at the grill. “I dare you.”

  Maggie raised an eyebrow at him and sat down. “That’s a reason not to do it.”

  Shane studied Liz in his quiet, earnest way. “Does he make you happy?”

  Liz smiled dreamily, remembering her mind-blowing orgasms. “I’m happy.”

  Shane reached over and squeezed her hand. “Good. I’m glad for you. He can be a little—”

  “Get your hands off her,” Ryan growled from the open door. His hair was slicked back and still wet from the shower. He strode barefoot to the table, in low-slung basketball shorts and a T-shirt, heading straight for Shane.

  “Oh!” Liz stood between the two brothers. “Ryan, it’s nothing. Shane and I’ve been friends for a long time.”

  Ryan jammed a hand through his hair, looking ruffled and cranky. He turned to Trav. “Need any help on the grill?”