I Brake For Bad Boys

by Foster, Lori

  She gave him a blank, anxious look.

  “Seeing you like this . . . I want to fuck you first, and make love to you after.”

  “Yes.”

  He was so hard it hurt. “Let’s see if you’re wet enough yet.” Holding her gaze, he pressed his fingers lower, through her dark curls and over slick flesh. Her body arched.

  “Open up for me, Erica.”

  Her throat worked as she swallowed, then slowly her legs parted.

  He looked down to where his large hand completely covered her. “Bend your knees. I want to see you.”

  Without hesitation, she did, opening herself fully to him. He took in the sight of her pale thighs laid open, her damp curls, and her glistening vulva. He pressed his middle finger deep. She groaned hard, her hips lifting, her eyes squeezing shut.

  “Nice and wet,” he murmured, pleased with how her muscles squeezed his finger. “God, the things I want to do to you . . .”

  He pushed another finger in, testing her, filling her. She was aroused enough, wet enough, that there would be no discomfort for her. He pulled out and found her clitoris again, at the same time bending to catch a nipple in his teeth. Her moans turned raw, her body moving with his hand, and suddenly it was too much. He’d waited for this moment, for this woman, too long to hold himself back.

  Ian sat up, startling a groan of protest from Erica though he didn’t take time to explain. He caught her knees in his hands, spread her legs wider until he could see every glistening pink inch of her sex. He heard her gasp even as he bent, tasting her with his tongue, licking and finally sucking. Erica became frenzied.

  He hooked her legs over his shoulders and caught her hips in his hands to keep her still. She tasted hot, sweet, like a woman should. Her fingers locked in his hair, holding him closer to her as she cried out and twisted, as the sensations built and expanded.

  “Ian.”

  With utmost care, he held her swollen clitoris in his teeth for the concentrated rasp of his rough tongue.

  Erica came. She cried out in a nearly soundless scream, her legs stiff, her heels digging into his shoulder blades. Before her last shuddering breath had subsided, he was reaching for a condom.

  Erica lay there, limp, a little sweaty. Smiling.

  Damn, he loved her. In record time he had the condom on and had settled between her thighs. “You’ll take me deep, won’t you sweetheart?”

  Her smile of contentment faded as he again hooked her legs and held them high. He outweighed her by a hundred pounds easy, was big and hard where she was slim and delicate, and still he settled against her.

  “Tell me, Erica.” His cock nudged against her sensitive lips, swollen from her climax. In this position, she was completely vulnerable—and they both knew it. “Tell me you want all of me.”

  She lifted her hands to his chest, a futile effort to hold him back. Her nails bit into his pectoral muscles as he began pressing inward.

  “Tell me.”

  She panted. “Yes.”

  Her compliance, combined with the wet velvet grasp of her body on the head of his dick nearly forced him into an early release. He gritted his teeth. “Then relax for me.”

  She gave a choked laugh. “Can’t.”

  He pushed in another inch and heard her inhalation of discomfort. Biting off a groan, he said, “You’re gonna have to, babe.” He felt himself sweating, felt his every muscle quivering with the effort it took to hold back. “You’re clenching. Relax and let me in.”

  She took three shallow breaths, then one long, deep one. She closed her eyes, loosened her grasp on his chest, and nodded.

  Through his intense concentration, Ian summoned a smile for her. “I love you, Erica.”

  Her eyes popped open again, huge and stunned, and he thrust in hard, filling her up and obliterating his last trace of control. He was so deep, a part of her—his woman—that holding back became impossible.

  Alive with acute, burning pleasure, he stroked in and out and just when he felt his stomach coil, felt his balls tighten and knew he was about to lose it, Erica began countering his thrusts. He heard her raspy breathing, saw the heated rise of pleasure on her face, and he came, aware of Erica joining him, of her body milking his. Aware of the perfection of the moment.

  He slumped on top of her, replete, boneless. His weight wrought a moan from her, reminding him of her position. “Sorry,” he murmured, then carefully lowered her legs. Turning his face inward so he could taste the salty warmth of her neck, he rumbled, “You okay?”

  She grunted, making him smile again. Damn, from the day he’d met her she’d amused him even while setting him on fire. They were both damp, sticking together, and he never wanted to move.

  “Give me a second,” he said, “and I’ll make love to you.”

  This time she choked, but the sound turned into a low laugh. Her limp arms came around his neck and she contrived a halfhearted hug. “You’re something else, Ian Conrad.”

  That perked him up. “Something better than what you’ve known,” he agreed. “Someone you can trust.”

  “Maybe.”

  He lifted his head to growl at her. “Your second’s up.”

  “What?”

  “It’s time to make love to you.” She started to protest, to laugh some more, and Ian kissed her quiet—then went on kissing her for a long, long time. When she tried to wiggle out from under him, he flipped her onto her stomach and kissed her spine, the small of her back, her dimpled bottom.

  By the time he finished with that, Erica was again squirming with need. He turned her over, cradled her gently, and this time he took her slow, cherishing her body and showing her that she not only made him crazed with lust, she overwhelmed him with love and tenderness too.

  After nearly two days of uninhibited debauchery, Erica was badly rumpled, lazy, and still so sexy Ian wasn’t sure he’d ever stop wanting her. It was nearing ten o’clock on Sunday morning, and he still couldn’t glance at her without feeling a rise of sexual awareness. He couldn’t hear her breathe without wanting her. And her laughs, her taunts, drove him to the very edge of lust.

  Every single thing they’d done had felt like foreplay. He’d showered with her, wanting only to let the hot water ease her sore muscles. Instead, he’d taken her against the wet tile wall with the enthusiasm of a schoolboy on prom night.

  He’d pulled out the massage oil, intent on fulfilling his end of the bargain. But Erica lying on her stomach with her beautiful back and shapely ass showing proved more than he could take. The oil got set aside while he kissed her all over, occasionally shocking her, definitely thrilling her. He’d drawn her to her knees to take her from the back, holding her breasts in his hands with his thrusts so deep he hadn’t lasted more than five minutes—which was fine since Erica had started coming in half that time.

  In the midst of steamy sensuality, there’d been very little personal grooming. Ian let her use his toothbrush and he remembered brushing her long silky hair once, only to muss it again when he carried her out to the balcony to fondle her under the moonlight. He liked having her outside.

  Late Friday night, the storm had rolled in, spraying rain on them, leaving them both damp and windblown. Erica had tasted especially fine with her skin dewy.

  Thinking of it made him want to taste her again. Down boy, he told his overenthusiastic cock. Enough already. Let her rest.

  Saturday morning everything had been fresh from the rain, sparkling clean, and they’d lingered in bed beneath a ray of sunshine slanting in through the open window. Seeing Erica lit by the sun made him more determined than ever to get her to that house in the country, where privacy would allow them to make love outdoors as often as they liked.

  Ian was amazed at his stamina. He’d always had a strong sexual appetite, but he’d never been so insatiable that he couldn’t seem to stop. Of course, he’d never been with Erica. And he’d never been in love.

  She hadn’t bothered with makeup at all, but her slanted green eyes looked sexi
er than ever, especially when they were soft from a recent climax, as they were now. He knew he should get up and cook her breakfast. They hadn’t had a full meal since Friday night; Saturday they’d only snacked so neither of them had to leave the bed for long. She had to be getting hungry. He was starved.

  But then Erica tucked her head into his shoulder and hugged him, and Ian knew he wasn’t ready to move yet.

  “I am so exhausted,” she teased.

  Touched by a modicum of guilt because he’d awakened her from a sound slumber a few hours earlier by sliding into her from behind, Ian asked, “Are you glad now that you stayed?”

  “Yes.” She tilted her face up to see him. “You are imposing, intimidating, insatiable, and very sweet.”

  Most of that he couldn’t deny, but... “Sweet, huh?”

  “Surprisingly so.”

  Perhaps now would be a good time to come clean, while she was still calling him sweet. He knew she’d want to go home tonight since they both had to work in the morning. But damned if he was ready to let her go. “There are still a few things we need to talk about.”

  She yawned and nestled back into his side. “What kind of things?”

  He didn’t want to start a fight, not when she seemed so peaceful and trusting. But he wanted to start their new relationship with a clean slate. Feeling possessive, he cupped her breast and said, “About why you keep men at arm’s length.”

  She laughed. “I dunno about that. You’re pretty close.” She reached down and encircled his penis, which was thankfully at ease for the moment.

  “Physically.” He bit the bullet and added, “But you know I want more.”

  She again looked up at him. “Really?” At his nod, she looked very satisfied—and a little shy. “You think there’s something about that porn shop that brings people together? I mean, look at Asia and Cameron, and then Becky and George.”

  “And me and you?”

  “I do like you, Ian. Everything about you. Most especially your honesty.”

  His stomach twisted with dread. “My honesty?”

  “That’s right. You told me up front what you wanted and why. If it wasn’t for you being so honest about the whole thing, I think I would have bailed out on you.”

  He couldn’t bear the thought that he might have missed this special time with her. “Erica, honey . . .”

  “I suppose I should be honest too, huh?”

  His admission died in his throat. “I’d love for you to trust me enough to tell me about yourself.”

  She nodded, causing the silky weight of her hair to glide against his ribs. “You were right about why I don’t open up to men. I’ve never told this to anyone before. Not even Becky or Asia. But my mom . . . well, she was confused. And weak. She always thought she needed a man around and there was always one willing to hang on her. They used her. For sex, for money. She took care of them, playing house and pampering them—until they walked away.”

  Ian rubbed her scalp, kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. But you have to know I’m not like that.”

  “I do know it.” Again, she twisted to look up at him. “I kind of think you’re the type who would resent relying on a woman for anything.”

  “Not true. I’m relying on you to keep me happy.” He caught her chin on his fist and lifted her face more. “You’re fast becoming a requirement in my life.”

  She grinned, but didn’t look like she believed him. “I grew up with men hanging around the house. I hated it. When they were there, my mother thought she had to be perfect. She’d get up early to put on her makeup and fix her hair because otherwise she’d get complaints and insults. It made me so damn mad, but the more I tried to convince her that we didn’t need them, the more distant we got with each other. She never relaxed, never let herself just kick back and enjoy life.” Erica shook her head. “She tried to get me to do the same, but I fought her every inch of the way.”

  “You’re your own person, Erica, not a replica of your mother.” He kissed her temple, hoping to reassure her. “She made her choices and you make yours. That’s how it should be.”

  Erica lowered her face and hugged Ian. “There was another reason why I refused to primp for them.” She took a deep breath. “When I was about sixteen, the men started looking at me differently.”

  Ian stiffened with a mix of disgust and rage. “They didn’t—”

  “No.” She gave him a teasing pinch, deliberately lightening the mood. “I wouldn’t have allowed that and you know it.”

  Ian squeezed her so tight she gasped. Erica just didn’t realize how susceptible she was as a woman. She considered herself tough, but from her toes to her eyebrows, she was feminine and soft and certainly weaker than the majority of men.

  She’d spent more of her life building bravado than any female should ever have to. “You’re sure no one ever . . .”

  “I’m sure. When I was seventeen I moved out.”

  Startled, Ian tipped her chin up. “Seventeen?” She’d been so damn young.

  Erica shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I spent a year working, staying with friends, moving around a lot. I eventually landed here, and after working my way through a two-year technical college, I started at the factory as an office assistant.”

  Ian gave a mental salute to the divine hand of fate for delivering her into his path. He’d always be thankful for that. “How are things with your mom now?”

  She was silent for a long moment. Her fingers teased at his chest hair, and Ian felt her press a soft kiss to his side. “She died when I was twenty-two. Ovarian cancer. I hadn’t seen her for a long time, and I didn’t know she was sick until it was too late.”

  “Jesus, Erica, I’m so damn sorry.”

  She crawled on top of him, kissed his chin, the bridge of his nose, then his mouth. “You have nothing to be sorry for. But thanks.”

  “Do you ever see your dad?”

  “Never met him. Mom told me he didn’t know she was pregnant, and by the time she was showing, he was long gone. Soon after I was born, she’d moved on to a new man.”

  “And so you’ve always been fiercely independent.”

  “It’s not just that, you know.” She propped her pointy elbows on his chest and put her head in her hands. “Guys in general are pigs.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yep. They work hard at pretending they care just so they can get you into bed, but then spend the mere two minutes they need there to get off.”

  “Not always true.”

  She grinned. “So I’m learning.”

  He hated to think about it, but he said, “You’ve picked some losers, haven’t you?”

  Instead of getting angry at that observation, she nodded. “Yeah, and I was beginning to think I was like my mom, that all I could pick were losers.”

  “Wanna hear my theory?”

  “I don’t know. Do I?”

  He swatted her delectable behind. “Yeah, you do.” Both hands now holding her bottom, he said, “Because of your mother’s choices, you’ve always thought you had to control everything to prove you were different, independent and able to do your own thing. That naturally meant you chose guys who’d let you have control.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I still have control.”

  “Over yourself.” He squeezed her butt. “That’s all anyone should want to control. I don’t want to control you, and you don’t need to control me.”

  “Because you’re not going to use me?”

  He nodded. “And because I love you, I don’t ever want to see you hurt.”

  She went still. “That’s the second time you’ve said it.”

  “Keeping count?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Want me to say it about a dozen more times?” With Erica lying naked atop him, it was getting difficult to carry the conversation. He could feel her pubic hair on his belly, the soft cushion of her breasts on his abdomen. “It’s true, you know. And I think you care about me too.”

  She didn�
��t admit it, which bugged Ian, but he knew she needed time. “You’re a strong, intelligent woman, Erica. You need a strong man, not a weak-kneed ass.”

  Her shoulders started shaking, and seconds later she burst out laughing. Ian rolled her beneath him, spread her legs, and settled against her. Her laughter died.

  “You know I’m right.”

  Breathless, she said, “I’m willing to admit it’s possible.”

  “Because you care about me too?” Damn it, he was pushing her after all.

  “Because you drive me wild.” She grabbed his ears and took his mouth. Her kiss was meant to get him off track, and it damn near did. But he was used to her tactics and he wanted to clear the air once and for all.

  “Shh. Erica, wait.” He stroked his fingers through her hair, spreading it out over his pillow. “Let’s finish talking first, okay?”

  “Talk?” She sent him a mock look of surprise. “Did I finally wear you out?”

  He couldn’t resist kissing her. “Never. I could make love to you for a lifetime and not be done. But this is the first time we’ve really talked about personal stuff, and there are things I want to tell you.”

  She sighed theatrically. “All right. Spill your guts and I’ll try to be attentive.”

  “You’re such a generous woman.”

  She laughed. “Quit stalling.”

  He was stalling, but Erica’s reactions were unpredictable. She was as likely to walk out on him as she was to understand. But damn it, he did love her. That had to count for something. And he knew she cared for him too, even if she hadn’t admitted it.

  Somehow, he’d get her to tell him. She could get mad, but before she left his apartment, they’d have an understanding.

  Ian drew a deep breath, and said, “I set the whole thing up.”

  She didn’t explode, but only because she didn’t yet understand. “Set what up?”

  “Our meeting at the porn shop.”

  “I know. You overheard George and Cameron and . . .”

  “No, sweetheart.” He rubbed her arms, trying to prepare her. “Like I told you, almost everyone at the factory knows about the deal you three ladies had. I knew you’d be next and there was no way in hell I could stand the thought of you playing sex games with some other man. I wanted it to be my turn.”