Hot Stuff

by Kim Karr

  Feeling like a caged animal, I used my instincts and pressed my teeth to his neck, since it was all I could reach.

  He arched at the pressure of my lips on his skin and made a slight gasping sound.

  I was surprised. It wasn’t meant for pleasure. It was meant for him to let go of my arms, not that I really wanted him to. I just liked the challenge of it. “You like it when I bite?”

  “Yeah . . .” Lucas breathed out with a small groan. “I like it when you bite.”

  Awareness simmered low in my belly. I had this. I so had this. He was under my control and he didn’t even know it. “Will you do something for me?” I asked.

  “Sure, what is it?” He let go of my arms and shifted to hold himself above me.

  Power coiled tautly through his arms when he did. I found myself staring at them like I had his stomach, and almost forgetting what it was I wanted. When I said nothing, he started to reach for my arms again, but then I blinked out of my lustful haze. “Stand up and take your clothes off. I want to see you naked.” It wasn’t that I was some crazy perverted kind of girl. It was just that I had been dying to see his body.

  “Girl . . .” he said with a smirk as he got off the bed. “That’s not a problem.”

  “Girl?” I laughed.

  He shrugged. “There’s no way I’m letting Kutch be the only one to call you that.”

  All I could do was shake my head.

  The amusement in our stares disappeared the moment he pulled his shirt off. Riveted by what I was looking at, I sat up as soon as he began to unfasten his jeans. I sucked in my breath when his pants hit the floor and he stood in front of me in only a pair of white boxer briefs. They were tight. So tight. And they not only encased his muscular thighs, but they very clearly outlined the rigid length of his erection.

  He was beautiful, exquisite, a god in his own right. The Adonis that was mine for the night devoured me with his gaze as he reached for the waistband of his briefs. In that moment, I forgot to breathe. Forgot who I was. Forgot about everything except him and me and what we were about to do.

  And then I gasped when his cock surged from his underwear. It strained upward, thick and pulsing, and I think I might have drooled. I know I licked my lips.

  Lucas stepped forward, leaned down, hauling me off the bed and into his arms. “Your turn, Strawberry Fields.”

  That was much better than Girl.

  Those butterflies took flight in my belly, and lower still, until I had to squeeze my thighs together in an effort to stop the ache. Once I felt I could stand on my own, I released my hold on his biceps and took a step back.

  Without hesitation, my hands went to the tie that held my wrap dress together and with trembling fingers I undid it. Lucas was watching me, and when I let the fabric fall to the ground in a way I never had, he hissed a breath at the sight of me.

  Flushing, I could feel heat creeping up my throat and covering my cheeks in pink. I’d never blushed this much in my life until I met him.

  I was wearing black lace and satin garments beneath. They were new. I’d gone to the village a few days ago at lunch to get them. My bra was the push up type and my panties were the skimpy thong-style that made my legs look even longer.

  His chest rose and fell as he stared at me. “The rest. Take those off, too.” His voice had grown thicker, full of desire. Two weeks of wanting each other wasn’t that long, but in the high-adrenaline environment we were in, it seemed like a lifetime.

  While looking at him, at the size of his cock, I almost lost my footing, but then I found it and reached behind my back to unhook my bra. I watched him watch me and allowed the straps to fall down my shoulders. As I let the cups fall away to reveal my tiny swells, I noticed I wasn’t the only one flushing. Pink tinged his cheeks, too, and he licked his lips as he watched me.

  “The panties,” he rasped.

  Hooking my thumbs in the sides of the lace, I eased them over my hips. I did it slowly, enjoying the look on his face as he focused on me like I was the only thing that mattered. I let them fall to my ankles, where I stepped out of them. And then I was completely naked—just like him.

  “Fuck,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. “Turn around.”

  I did, one time only, and wished I had thought to ask him to do the same earlier.

  “You’re perfect,” he breathed, reaching for me and splaying his hand over my ass to draw me close. “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

  “I can’t wait, either.” My breasts were crushed against the hard wall of his chest and my entire body was on fire.

  Lucas lowered me to the bed, and I thought he was going to fuck my brains out, but instead he slid his hands lower over my body, caressing and touching along the way as if he couldn’t help himself. His palms glided over my breasts and then to my belly and finally to my hips. Then he pulled me down the mattress and positioned me so my ass was right on the edge of the bed with my legs dangling over it.

  To my utter shock, he knelt on the carpeted floor between my thighs. My breath hiccupped and tore violently from my throat as he lowered his mouth to my sensitive flesh and licked up the center of it. “You’re so wet for me, Gillian.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned.

  “I’m going to fuck you right after I taste your sweet pussy,” he breathed out.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned again.

  When his tongue touched my clit and circled it, my entire body spasmed and I made a noise I had never heard before.

  Using his fingers to spread me open, he licked me again and again and again, using the flat of his tongue to drive me higher and higher. I shuddered as pleasure began to roll through my body.

  “Lucas,” I called out as I felt myself tipping over the edge so hard and fast. I wasn’t expecting it to happen so quickly.

  Going up on my elbows, I stared down at his wicked, beautiful mouth and tongue.

  He glanced up. “I can’t get enough of the noises you make when you get turned on.”

  There was no shame on my part because the orgasm was now flooding my body and all I could do was shout out his name again and give him what he liked.

  His breath blew hot against my sensitive flesh. “That’s it, Gillian. Come for me.”

  Sweet tension curled inside my stomach, and each beat of my climax pulled another low moan from my throat. Unable to control myself, my fingers curled in the sheets and my body shook as I rode his tongue, shuddering and jerking and pulsing.

  When I could see again, breathe again, function again, I looked down and saw his eyes burning brightly with lust. I extended my hand. “I want you inside me.”

  He licked his lips, as if liking the taste of me. “Fuck, I want that too. Just let me grab a condom.”

  I nodded and scooted up to the top of the bed.

  Even though I laid there dizzy with exhilaration from the aftermath of my release, I watched every move he made.

  The sexy way he bent to pull out his wallet from his back pocket, the strong way he stood to flip it open, how quickly he retrieved the foil packet, and then the hot way he slipped the condom on, stroking the latex down to the base.

  The gasp I made wasn’t on purpose, but if I knew I would be rewarded with the lustful gaze he sent my way, it would have been.

  My body was already humming in anticipation when he positioned himself on top of me. His palms were on either side of my head and he leaned to kiss me, just once, soft and light.

  Using his arms to keep from crushing me, his cock nudged me, and I parted for him, tilting my hips to allow him entrance. Moving above me, he rubbed the tip of his cock along my folds, pushing in a little before reaching between us to guide himself all the way in.

  I moaned when he entered me, and he not only did the same, but he also shivered. There was something about that shiver that made my heart beat even faster. Something that made this all the more right—it was the fact that we both craved this, needed this, couldn’t not have it.

  Still, I was very aware of h
ow wrong it was.

  It was instinctive to reach for him, put my hands on his face, to brush his hair from his eyes. His face looked a little pained when I did, but then it softened. I wondered then if he ever allowed anyone to touch him, I mean really touch him, the way I was, not just on the surface.

  He’d told me about his mother leaving when he was a baby and his brother raising him. Like me, he’d had no female figure around as a child to show him warmth and tenderness. Perhaps unlike me, he was never even aware he had missed it.

  “Gillian,” he breathed.

  “Lucas,” I breathed back.

  With our gazes so full of intensity, he started to move—in, out, in, out—in slow, even strokes. I slid my hands over his shoulders down to his biceps and when I did, I felt him trembling.

  It was the same vibration I felt in my own body.

  It was raw, real, and undeniable.

  It was a feeling fueled with such intensity, neither of us could ignore it.

  His eyes closed for a moment, and he put his forehead against mine before he opened them again. Without taking his gaze from mine, he began to move faster, harder, and I mimicked his rhythm.

  He’d said he wanted to fuck me, but that one word could mean so much. This felt like more than that, though. Like he wanted to be a part of me. Like he wanted me to be a part of him. Like he wanted us to become one.

  My pulse accelerated, nearly exploding when he started to pound into me. It was then that I put my arms around his neck to bring his mouth down to my neck. Happy to oblige, he kissed me there. I tilted my head to offer more, and he took it. He pressed his teeth to my skin like I had done to him and like me, he bit a little and then used his tongue to smooth the spot.

  I closed my eyes, clamping my teeth together to hold back the cry that threatened to burst free.

  In.

  Out.

  In.

  Out.

  When he slid his hands beneath my rear to tilt me against him, I snapped my eyes open. He withdrew and then surged again. Almost instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist as he hammered into me.

  Now his expression was fierce, the strain of what he was doing evident in the clench of his jaw.

  I let out a sharp cry, my arousal taking over.

  “Are you close?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I cried out. “Are you?”

  “Fuck, yes,” he hissed as he drove into me. He was deep. Impossibly deep, and when I felt the pulsating hardness of his cock as he took me, I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  An orgasm quaked through me like an erupting volcano. It was hot, explosive, and so intense that I shook with the magnitude of it. I arched, giving myself up to him, going wild beneath him, and then I screamed his name. “Lucas!”

  His eyes glittered as he slowed his thrusts. Then he closed them, his cock stroking deep and then shallow, deep and then shallow before going deep one last time and remaining there.

  I knew he was coming when his entire body went taut. I pushed through my limpness to keep my eyes open and watch him.

  All the muscles in his arms and chest were straining before they coiled tightly. “Gillian,” he gritted out as he pulsed into me. “Fuck, Gillian.”

  The way he said my name almost made me come again.

  His release seemed to go on and on, and I relished the look on his face. The I’m coming look on him looked way too good.

  It was something I could get used to.

  Slowly lowering his body onto mine, he covered me completely for a moment before rising on his elbows and pushing the hair from my eyes. His chest heaved and his breath was hot against my skin as he placed feather-like kisses all over me.

  I made a noise, or two, arching slightly and pressing my breasts upward.

  He was still inside me, and as I continued to wiggle beneath him, I started to feel him getting hard again.

  Astonished, I slid my hands over his shoulders and laughed a little. “How are you—?” I stopped, more than dumbfounded that he could actually be ready to go again so quickly.

  “You can ask how I’m already getting hard again, it’s okay,” he grinned.

  I raised a brow. “Obviously, I don’t have to.”

  Believe it or not he looked just as surprised as me. “No, you don’t because you know it’s because of you.”

  Confusion creased my brow.

  “There’s just something about you,” he whispered in my ear. “You do crazy things to me.”

  My hands were roaming over his body in that way I had dreamt of, but when he spoke, I paused for a moment. “There’s something about you,” I repeated, and then I squeezed the muscles in his biceps. “Here,” I said, and moved up to his shoulders, “and here.” I pressed my fingers into his skin as I slid them down his back. “And here that does crazy things to me.”

  Although he made a sound of satisfaction, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he placed his palms on the mattress and pushed up to look at me. “I’m serious, Gillian,” he said. “Not only am I unable to stay away, but I don’t think I can get enough of you.”

  In that moment I knew he was serious, and my heart nearly pounded out of my chest, because like him, I felt the same way.

  And like him, I had no idea why.

  Or maybe I did.

  HOLDING

  Lucas

  FOOTBALL SPEAK WAS a language.

  Any player not fluent in it would be lost, both on and off the field. Luckily for me, our offense at Notre Dame used the same terminology as the Bears.

  But after-sex speak was not a language I was well-versed in, or fluent in, and I hated to admit I felt out of my element.

  I stared at her as I stroked my hand down her back, but when she tried to lay her head on my chest, I didn’t know what to do, so I kissed her and covered her body with mine. I didn’t want to upset her, but the bottom line was I was not a cuddler.

  Never had been.

  In fact, the only time I ever actually slept in the same bed with anyone was during my high school years, and that night was not on purpose.

  Sometime during the summer following my sophomore year, I got involved with this group of guys who liked to indulge. Drugs and alcohol had started to become my focus, and football had taken a back seat. Partying was at an all-time high.

  My behavior was out of control, and I was headed down a road that would lead me nowhere good.

  It was three weeks before my junior year was about to begin that my brother scared me straight.

  The guys and I were cruising around town when we got pulled over. Turned out the car we were in didn’t belong to any of them. It was stolen. The cops hauled us all down to the station. When I called my brother, he told me he wasn’t going to bail me out unless I promised to get my shit back on track.

  At first, I hung up on him. Who the hell was he to tell me what to do? But as the hours passed between those four walls with the smell of puke and piss all around me, I started to think about what he’d said.

  When my bed creaked and one of the guys laid down at the other end because there wasn’t enough room for all of us to sleep, I knew I never wanted to end up in a place like this ever again.

  In the morning, after I shoved out of the small bed and climbed over the dude who was dead to the world, I was called into holding, where my brother was waiting for me, and as soon as I saw him, I agreed to his terms.

  Shortly after that incident, Nick moved the two of us out of the house we had both lived in since birth, the one in the ghetto. The new place was small, but in a much better school district. By then he had graduated college and started to invest in real estate. He was doing pretty good. Good enough that we didn’t have to worry about if we were going to have enough money to eat that week and pay rent, at least.

  It was the first time in our lives money wasn’t our primary concern.

  Ever since that summer I hadn’t drank or done drugs or slept in the same bed with anyone.

  With my brother beside me, I found my focu
s, and knew what I wanted. Together, we went after it.

  It was after I’d had Gillian for the third time that she tried to lay on top of me and nestle against me.

  To cuddle.

  Again, I didn’t say anything, but when I went to get up, she pulled me back to the bed. “Where are you going?” she asked.

  I was uncomfortable.

  I must have looked pathetic.

  And she saw it.

  Always thinking everything I did, felt, or said had a reason, she prodded me for information. Although I couldn’t believe it, I found myself not only telling her about the sleepover, but about my no cuddling thing.

  “You’re afraid of intimacy.” She said it so matter-of-factly she could have been telling me I was next in line.

  “You’re crazy,” I told her. “Stop overthinking everything.”

  It might have turned into an argument, but she diffused it quickly. “Then prove it to me.”

  When the gauntlet was thrown down, there was no backing away. And before I knew it, I ended up lying beside her—cuddling.

  Cuddling.

  Even the word bothered me.

  So why did I do it?

  Because she just had this way about her.

  With her head on my chest, I was stroking her hair and listening to her tell me about what it was like to grow up the daughter of one of the most famous quarterbacks in NFL history.

  Whenever Gillian told a story, she had my attention. Tonight though, I listened to every word, to every detail with astute awareness. So much so, that she rose up on her elbows to make sure I was paying attention.

  Didn’t she know she didn’t have to?

  Didn’t she know she captivated me?

  Once satisfied that I was all in, she fell back down and continued to trace my body with her fingers.

  She had a thing about that.

  And I kind of liked it.

  In fact, I kind of liked all of this. The sparkling juice we’d drank together and toasted to the upcoming season, the exploration she’d taken over my entire body, the way she looked at me when she did, and how I felt with her in my arms.