“You’re incredible,” he said. “You taste great.”
“Don’t say that. It makes me hot.”
“Imagine how it makes me feel. You’re so tight.”
“It’s been a very long time for me. That’s the only explanation I can think of for my desire to jump into bed, before drinks or dinner.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining. We can stay here all night if you want.”
She laughed. There was something about this man that drew her. Maybe it was that trait she’d considered earlier, his confidence and easy assumption of power. Yet he was considerate and fun. She would have to watch herself carefully and make sure she followed her own rules. This was for the book only. She’d better not become emotionally engaged or everything would be tainted. Worse, she’d end up with a broken heart when he left.
“Remaining in bed isn’t necessary. But I know now what I’d like for dessert.”
“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Do you need to use the bathroom? It’s across the hall.”
“Please.” She sat up and scooted to the side of the bed. When she stood and walked to the door, she felt his eyes on her but was too relaxed and satisfied to care.
Closing the door to the bathroom, she used the toilet and rinsed her face. She stared into the mirror, wondering what she’d been thinking. Was tenure worth spending months fucking two men to see how their attitudes, actions, and behavior toward her and each other changed?
“Fucking like this? Hell, yes.” Even without the idea of a book, Beau’s body and generosity as a lover would bring her back to his bed. How had the man escaped being married?
She exited the bathroom. “I’m in the kitchen,” he called.
She went back to the bedroom and found the shirt Beau had pulled over his head and dropped on the floor. She slipped it over her head and strolled into the kitchen.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. He had turned on the stove burner under a saucepan. In jeans and shirtless, he looked good enough to eat.
He gave her a once-over with appreciation sparking in his eyes. “It looks right at home on you.”
She inhaled. “It smells.”
He smiled, and heat spread through her. “Are you saying I need to do laundry?”
“No, I’m saying it smells like you, sexy, hot, all male.”
He sauntered to her. “It’s that kind of thing that will have me carrying you back down the hall.”
“No one’s stopping you.” She laced her fingers behind his neck, and he did the same around her waist. They kissed, and that old tingly feeling started in her pussy. They hadn’t been out of bed ten minutes and she wanted him again. What was wrong with her? This was far beyond being without sex for too long. This was a desire for the man standing before her.
She pulled back her head and sniffed. “Something’s burning.”
“Oh, shit!” Beau sprung back to the stove and picked the pan off the flame. “Steve’ll kill me. This sauce is like gold to him.”
Leah came up beside him. “Let’s transfer it to another pan. I’ll clean this one. He’ll never know.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She laughed.
“What’s funny?” He scrambled around a bottom cabinet and came up with another pan.
“Two big, strong former Marines. Warriors. One cooks and gets upset when his sauce burns. The other is worried the first will discover he burned the sauce. You’re not what I expected.”
“I pick my fights,” Beau said, smiling. “And Steve fights dirty.”
Her face fell. “That much I remember about him.”
Beau transferred the sauce from the first pan to the second, using a spoon to scoop out any bits that appeared blackened. Then he sniffed the sauce in the new pan. “This is better.” He set it over a very low flame.
“You do not need to be cleaning pans,” he said, taking her hands in his. “But I would like to know what Steve did to you.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. I want to help if I can. Help both of you, because he feels awful about what he did.”
“He told you?”
“Yeah, Friday when I got home. But I’d like to hear your side.”
“It’s simple,” she said. “He destroyed me.”
* * * *
Beau couldn’t believe his ears. There was no denying Leah was upset. Still. After what? Eleven, twelve years? He had never known Steve to lie. Not over something important like a woman’s well-being.
He stirred the sauce while she insisted on cleaning the burned pan. She looked sexy as hell in his shirt. If he’d just stayed in bed, she would have come back and they would have cuddled and kissed and…they’d be fucking right now, instead of his standing there wondering if his best friend raped or did something equally bad to the woman he wanted to be inside right now.
“Look. I was at that frat party where whatever happened with you two happened. I was drunk, too. It could have been me who took you upstairs and—”
“Beau. If you want to prepare dinner for us, I’m happy to help. If you want to talk, I’m happy to do that. But not about that, and not about him.”
“Okay. I get it. Or I don’t, but I’ll stop.” Bubbles appeared on the top of the sauce. He was forgetting something. “Shit! We need spaghetti.” He bent to get the stock pot.
“Do we really need pasta? You have a great loaf of French bread here, and that sauce does smell delicious. We could just dunk the bread in the sauce and make it a really rustic meal. Do you have anything to make a salad with?”
“Salad is already made and in the ‘fridge.”
She dried her hands on a dishtowel. “I’ll get it out and dress it.”
“Just don’t dress yourself.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder, and his heart beat wildly. “Why aren’t you married?” he blurted out.
She laughed, bending provocatively as she removed the bowl of salad. He could poke her from the back right now. Even the chilled air from the refrigerator wouldn’t kill their heat.
“Funny, earlier I was wondering the same thing about you.”
“I’ve never found anyone who would put up with me.”
She glanced at him. “Is this balsamic vinaigrette what you want for the salad?”
“I like it if you do.”
She took it out and poured some over the greens before mixing them. “And what’s wrong with you that women everywhere run from the thought of marrying you?”
“Oh shit. All kinds of things.” He laughed. “Like I curse.”
“Hell, I do, too.” She smiled, and he laughed again.
“I’m focused and centered on what I want to do. Right now it’s get my degree. Women don’t usually want to share time with the man they love. Although you’re sharing time with two men. How’s that working for you?”
“I don’t know yet. So far I’ve only been with one man.”
He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. “Is that so? Because when I was out getting groceries last Thursday, I could have sworn I saw you drive by with the good professor. You weren’t on a date?”
“Yes, we were. We went to dinner and then to see The Towering Inferno. I think it put him out of the mood. We didn’t end up in bed. Is that what you want me to say?”
“As a matter of fact—”
He put the spoon on the counter, turned off the burner, and went to her. As she turned, she held out a piece of lettuce coated with dressing. He took it in and reveled in the burst of flavor—sweet and sour from the balsamic vinegar and fresh from the lettuce and oil. He swallowed quickly and kissed her, letting her experience some of the taste. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against his body. Her tits pushed against his chest. She ran her foot up the back of his leg, and through his shirt her body seared him.
“—that’s exactly what I wanted to hear you say.”
She kissed both corners of his mouth. “We’re going out again this coming week.
”
He shook his head. “Don’t spoil it.” He nibbled her earlobe. “I’ve turned off the sauce.”
“So we’re free of the kitchen?”
Oh, yeah. “Want to hold off on dinner for a while longer?”
“I want to climb inside your skin and make love for the next hour.”
“Dr. Morris, we are two great minds thinking along the same lines.” He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. And this time, he closed the door. He didn’t want to feel free. He wanted them to be cocooned within four walls, alone and secluded.
“I want you on top,” he said. “I want to watch your face when you come and hold your breasts in my hands.” He set her on the floor and tried to kiss her, but she pushed him back onto the bed.
“If I’m on top, I call the shots,” she said. “I’ll say what you touch and what you don’t.”
She smiled and unbuttoned the first button on his shirt. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her long fingers popping the plastic button through the hole, one after the other, until the material barely covered her breasts and her belly button was about to be exposed.
He licked his lips. His dick pushed hard against his jeans, aching to be free. “And I’m just supposed to follow orders?”
“Like you used to in the Marine Corps.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The last button came undone, and Leah shrugged his shirt to the floor. “You’ll put your hands under your head and not touch me at all until I give you permission.”
He did as he was told. If there was one thing anyone would say about Beau Johnson, it was that he was a good Marine.
Chapter Seven
Leah watched the bulge in his jeans grow and lengthen. That would soon be deep inside her, and she could hardly wait.
She unbuttoned him and ran the zipper carefully over his erection. He sucked in a breath as the back of her hand came in contact with his briefs.
“Lift up.” He raised his hips to allow her to pull off his jeans and then his briefs. His cock stood erect, thick, long, and proud.
“What have we here?” she said in a low voice. “It looks good enough to eat.”
Beau made no sound, but his muscles looked tense with the effort he expended not speaking or moving.
She bent over him and licked the head. He sucked in another hard breath when she teased him with her tongue again, but when she took him most of the way, her hand twisting gently on the skin at his base and her tongue stroking him all the way down and once more all the way back up, he groaned loudly. She did it again, using her hand to lead her mouth down, twist at the bottom, and then follow her mouth up. The next time down she moaned while she held him deeply in her mouth, and he jerked up, giving her an inch more she didn’t think she could handle. But she did. Now he pushed and withdrew in concert with her mouth.
Blowing Beau was so erotic, she moved her hips in rhythm. He raised his knee so her pussy came in contact with his leg and she scrubbed her clit against him. Down, up, back, forth. Closing her eyes, she lost all notion of time and place. There was only the sensation of rough skin on sensitive, smooth skin and his cock filling her mouth. She came with no more than that—her body’s instinctive reaction to stimulation.
Her groan of surrender brought Beau to action. He reached down and pulled her off him. The sound of foil tearing open meant he was covering himself. When he lay back again, she crawled to him and straddled him. Her orgasm still rippled through her body, nerve to nerve, muscle to muscle. She slid over him easily with the flow of her cream easing the way. She rose onto her knees and fell back down. With one hand she reached behind and stroked his scrotum.
“Baby, I can’t take that. I want you to come again.”
She rose and fell again, swiveling her hips and rubbing her clit on the wiry hair at the base of his cock. Heat flooded her. Her breasts bounced with her merry-go-round fucking. She rolled his balls between her fingers. She wished she’d thought to take them into her mouth while she was at it. Next time.
“Just having you inside me is bringing me close.”
“Then this should help.” He reached between them and pressed her clit with his thumb. The climax struck, not totally unexpected but overwhelming all the same. She cried out. She couldn’t help it.
Beau held her hip with his other hand and drove into her until she rose and fell through the thrust of his cock and no action on her part. She let go and rode him as a bronc buster managed a wild stallion. Finally, he used both hands to hold her tightly to him. Her orgasm went on and on, and somehow knowing Beau was coming, too, set her off on another round. By the time they both finished, she was limp as a dishrag. He caught her as she fell forward and eased her onto his chest. His cock was still lodged in her pussy, and she pushed against it.
“You’ve rung me out,” he said.
“I could say the same, if I had the strength to talk.” She cuddled against him, tucking her arms to his sides.
“Do you want to sleep? We should get under the covers.”
“No, just rest for a minute.”
He wrapped her in his arms. “Feel free.”
Leah let the euphoria of her orgasm wash over her. That had been great. Absolutely the best sex she’d had in a long time. Maybe ever, and she didn’t think it was because it had been too long between fuck sessions. There was something about Beau that made the sex special as well as spectacular.
If he hadn’t wandered into her class, who would she have asked to participate in the book? She’d come very close to asking Henry Matthews, a psych professor. But she couldn’t get Beau off her mind. Henry was good looking and a nice guy, but he wouldn’t have come close to this, this magical experience.
Beau was no kid, no ordinary college student, and, thankfully, no longer a military man. She would have had a serious conflict with her conscience had he still been in the service, an institution with which she disagreed. That he had come into her life right when she needed someone seemed almost like an omen. The book would be successful. Her body would be satisfied beyond her wildest dreams. Tenure was in the bag.
“Can I move you to the side for a minute? I need to take care of this rubber or we’ll have an accident.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I should have thought.”
Yes, you should have thought. You need to keep this impersonal, academic. The book! The book, the book. It’s all that matters.
She moved off his chest and stretched out on her side to watch him get up. Every part of his body was muscled—his legs and thighs, hips and shoulders. The man looked like a real, live comic book hero, even from the back. He dropped the latex bag into the trash can near the bed and pulled back the bedspread and sheet.
“Come on,” he said. “With the air conditioning on, you’ll get too cold.”
Since ending their activity, Leah had noticed the cool air blowing across her skin. She lifted herself on one arm and pushed the bed linens under her until she could manage to get her feet in. That was when Beau climbed in and pulled the covers over them. Immediately, he put his arm under her neck and pulled her to him. His body put out heat like a furnace. She warmed immediately but couldn’t move because he had his arm around her.
In seconds, his deep breaths told her he was asleep. Leah had more important things to do than sleep. Besides the exhilaration of fantastic sex, Leah had the opening of her book. Before she’d even slept with the second man, Beau already showed signs of jealousy. The strength with which he held her now indicated a proprietary feeling. When she did take another man to bed, she had no doubts that sparks would fly. The tale would be thrilling and a bestseller as big as the Kinsey Reports.
Tenure, here I come!
* * * *
Steve closed the front door and tossed his keys in the brass bowl near the door where he and Beau kept things they wanted to pick up quickly on their way out. He was beat after three hours in the chemistry lab, a fast sandwich, and another three hours studying at the library. Alone. He’d tr
ied hard all night not to think about Beau and Leah or what they were doing. He’d failed a number of times. Now he was worn out from his roller-coaster emotions and would most likely have to put up with even more—the noise of their sex—because Leah was still there. He’d parked beside her Datsun 240Z in the driveway.
He walked into the kitchen and immediately sensed the acrid odor of burned tomato sauce. There was no evidence of the crime, but Steve knew it anyway. He’d grown up with that sauce, and his mother at one time or another had committed every atrocity a woman could make against the lowly tomato. Not that he’d let Beau know that.
He searched for leftovers of dinner but found nothing. “So much for a nosh,” he muttered and then decided he’d just go to bed. Midnight was hardly late, but staying awake would only evoke more visions of the mighty amount of sex that had taken place in the house that night.
Turning out the lights that Beau had left on for him, he walked down the hall to his room. As he passed Beau’s room, he heard low voices and a soft moan. Jesus! He’d go crazy if they started in and he had to listen to bedsprings all night.
He went into the bathroom and made as much noise as he could, letting the lovers know they weren’t alone any longer.
When he finished, he opened the door at the same time Beau’s door opened. Beautiful Leah brushed past Beau, pausing to kiss him.
“Good night, Steve,” she said coolly as she went down the hall. He leaned against the doorframe and scratched his ear while Beau walked her out to her car. The bastard was bare chested, barefoot, and looked thoroughly satisfied. As did she. Steve sighed.
The sound of Leah’s Datsun pulling away followed Beau back into the house.
Steve wandered into his bedroom, wondering if he should ask about the evening or not. When Beau came out of his room carrying a tray with a saucepan and the remnants of the French bread, Steve decided to find out what his friend would volunteer.
Teacher's Pets [Unlikely Bedfellows 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 6
