HotText

by Cari Quinn

  “Get on your knees.”

  She almost started to argue before sense prevailed. Why would she argue against something that would probably feel amazing? She trusted him to bring her pleasure. He’d taken her further already than she’d been in years.

  Karyn kneeled and closed her eyes, envisioning how she must look. Nude, hands slapped against the glass. Though she’d eagerly abandoned most rational thought, she couldn’t help imagining what elderly Mr. Nelson next door would think if he made the mistake of looking at her house at the wrong moment. But why would Mr. Nelson—or anyone else—be up at almost one a.m.?

  When Jeff kneeled on the window seat too, she forgot all about her neighbors. He’d somehow managed to fit behind her and now his thighs cupped hers, his rough hair scraping her sensitive skin. They were plastered together, sharing the same insufficient air. The same seductive scents of their mutual arousal. With their bodies flush, his cock seemed weightier against her back. More likely to give her those screaming orgasms he’d promised.

  Without hesitation, he nudged his cock between her legs, sliding through her abundant wetness. Making more from just the movement alone. She glanced up, catching his reflection in the glass as he tore the foil packet with his teeth. Teeth that had already done such wonderful things to her body.

  He sheathed himself, cursing as his fingers fumbled, and then finally the crown of his erection poised at her entrance, barely slipping inside. Whether he meant to taunt her or give her time to adjust, she didn’t know.

  She sliced her fingernails into her palms. Relax. Relax. She chanted the mantra in her head, grateful the words didn’t fall from her lips for once.

  He inched in, slid out. Pumped deeper, pulled away. Just as her frustration swelled to a fuckingly epic level, he hauled her hips up, dragging her higher before he sank all the way in, filling her so completely she gasped.

  Her flesh stretched, unaccustomed to a man after so long. Each thrust stirred her unspeakably. More than just her pussy linked with him when he slid into her. A little part of her heart did as well.

  Stupid. It was just fucking. But she liked the giddy, reckless feeling that came with tumbling for a man again. Wise, unwise, she didn’t care.

  In one fell swoop, wham, her recent memories of dismal sex vanished, replaced by this shining experience. He hadn’t even really done much yet but she knew he’d give her what he’d promised.

  Poor guy. She almost felt sorry for him that he would be forever known—in her head at least—as the man who’d helped give her back her dormant sexuality. Who wanted that kind of burden?

  He changed the angle and his groan tore through the room, echoing in her head. Mixing with her whimpers and then drowning them out completely.

  “You like it fast?” he questioned, delving deeper when she’d been sure he’d reached the end of the line.

  How did she like it? Any way he could give it to her, probably.

  “Yes,” she whispered, raising her ass as he started to pound into her. “Yes,” she said again, stretching the word out until it had about twelve syllables.

  “Oh yeah.” He grunted and jerked her up and down his cock, his plunges accompanied by the most erotically dirty squishing sounds she’d ever heard.

  That was her. All her. Her pussy was that wet, that tight. That completely capable of driving a man crazy. This man at least.

  His harsh pants blew the damp hair off her neck every time they joined and separated. Her inner walls squeezed him, holding him motionless for increasingly longer moments. It felt so damn good, and God, she wanted to come. Wanted him to come just as much.

  Her fists rapped on the glass as he gave up all pretense of civility and ripped into her harder than she’d ever been taken before. Her orgasm swelled—her breasts aching with it, her clit throbbing. Her nerve endings sizzled and snapped like shorted fuses. She bit her lip but a moan escaped her anyway while she fought to match his strokes. As she met them and urged him for more.

  He reached around her and rubbed her clit, his fingers slipping down to hold him inside her pussy for a heartrending moment. She looked down, transfixed by the sight of him inside her, of his fingers holding him there. And then he moved again, fingers moving too, and she shattered.

  Karyn whimpered, helpless to stop it. Her eyes closed against the whorl of light that exploded in her head. Before she’d recovered, he pressed her shoulders against the cold glass, her sensitive nipples grinding into the frosty pane as he thrust one last time and erupted inside the condom. He rode out the climax, his body jerking, her name tumbling from his lips. “Karyn.”

  Eyes still closed, she smiled.

  For a while, neither moved. Maybe he’d somehow dropped into unconsciousness while slumped against her in what had to be a most uncomfortable position. Stranger things had happened.

  She opened one eyelid and caught him grinning at her in the glass.

  “You almost screamed.”

  “So did you.” She didn’t sound defensive. Hell no. She couldn’t have been more triumphant if she tried. “You’re still shaking.”

  “Is there a scorecard?”

  She moaned as he slid out of her, rubbing all those freshly stimulated nerves, and his smile stretched in the glass.

  “If so, that moan just lost you a point,” he added, his tone smug.

  “Really?” She let her forehead hit the window and struggled to reclaim her breath. And her wits. “Feels like I won to me.”

  “C’mere. You gotta be cold.” Unaware of her sudden and complete paralysis, he took her arm and tried to get her to stand. “Karyn?”

  She shifted clumsily into a sitting position. Her legs felt as limp as undercooked spaghetti, her thighs a quivery mass. “Gimme a sec.”

  “Take two.” He disposed of the condom in the trash can and slid down the wall beside her, his ass hitting the bare floor with a thud. He slanted her a sideways glance, a grin again teasing his mouth. “I’m gonna want to do that again. Soon. Just so you know.”

  “How soon? I think I broke something.”

  “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?” He crawled over to her and cupped her cheek, his brows knitting over his narrowed eyes.

  She laughed at how rapidly his fatigue vanished. “No. I’m fine. But it’s been a while, you know?”

  “Yeah.” He sank back on his heels, his palm still cupping her face. His hand felt so warm in contrast to the cold gnawing at her spine. “For me too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. At least a year. Probably more. I try not to think about it.”

  His suddenly fierce expression made her laugh again. “It’s harder for guys. You have reps to consider.”

  “Some rep. I’ve spent more nights with my hands around a book than a woman.”

  She liked imagining him with that pencil she’d seen behind his ear earlier, a thick hardback in his hands. A little line of frustration wrinkling his forehead as it did now. “To some women, that’s a turn-on, you know. Players do nothing for me.”

  He hesitated and she knew the specter of Lon had jumped right back into the conversation. He never stayed away for long. “Handy for me.”

  Karyn reached out to graze his jaw with her thumb, savoring the beginnings of stubble. She’d never seen her ex with stubble. Or with his mouth as deliciously soft and used as Jeff’s.

  “How’d we end up here?” she asked softly, not expecting an answer.

  “Luck,” he said, turning his head to kiss her palm. “Blind fucking luck.”

  “Guess I was owed some eventually.”

  “Me too. I had to listen to Daze all night long last night—” He cut himself off quickly but not quickly enough. His gaze shot to hers.

  She cocked her head. “They were loud?”

  “Karyn—”

  “Maybe back in the day we were loud too. It all seems so long ago now.” She worried her lower lip. “I want to know. I’m fine with it. Really.”

  He shrugged, his features taut. “I don’t know. I g
uess. Probably seemed louder because I was only a wall away.”

  She glanced down at her legs, spread wide enough to accommodate him kneeling between them. If her gaze continued, she’d see her curled-under toes, a persistent—and annoying—nervous habit. She wasn’t unaffected and her feet proved it.

  Then again, she had other proof. Wet thighs for one. She’d had an orgasm. An astronomically wonderful, beyond compare orgasm. She’d come hard and easily. For someone who’d had to work for every climax for a while, that was huge. The rest she’d deal with later.

  “Lon hasn’t been too much of a screamer recently either,” she said, glad her voice sounded thoughtful rather than sad. “Your sister must be really good.”

  “I’d rather not think on that much, thanks.”

  Smiling, she brushed a stray lock of hair away from his ear. She couldn’t touch him enough. She wanted to cuddle, just curl up and lie beside him with his breathing a steady rhythm in her ear, his heartbeat slow and relaxed under her hand. “You live with her?”

  “No. I have my own place. But the damn exterminators were there this weekend. One of my downstairs neighbors has a shitload of cats and we all pay the price after a hot summer like we had. Though you can’t tell it now with the damn snow.”

  “I like cats. Lon was allergic. As soon as we settle the divorce and I move out, I’ll go down to the pound. Hopefully my new apartment will let me have one.”

  “Move out? Why?” He looked around the room. “I can see how much you love this studio.”

  “You can?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. “How?”

  “All the details. The crystals, the frilly curtains, these really useful cushions.” He patted the window seat and she grinned. “You’ve nested here.”

  “Nested, hmm?” She sighed. “Yeah, I guess I have. I’m used to fussing with a classroom, making it homey and fun.”

  “I like it,” he said, looking around again. “My place is generic central.”

  “Really? I can’t imagine anything about you being generic,” she said as he turned his truly dazzling grin on her.

  “So why are you moving from a place you love?”

  “The house belongs to Lon. It’s been in his family for generations. My name’s never been on the deed. It’s my own fault for never pushing it.”

  “So push it in the divorce. That’s the best time to make a stink about every damn thing anyway, right?”

  She shook her head, idly stroking his hair. “Not for me. I just want this all to go away. I hate fighting. Just not temperamentally suited to it. Easier to find another place and start my new life that much quicker.”

  “He’s cheating on you. Right now.”

  “We’re separated. Technically I just cheated on him too.” She patted his shoulder and eased around him to stand. She didn’t really want to think on that at the moment. The last thing she wanted to feel was guilty, when she wasn’t to blame for any of this.

  “You’re saying the louse didn’t cheat before the separation?”

  Rubbing away the goose bumps rising on her arms, she crossed the room to pick up her discarded clothes. “No, I’m not saying that. I know he did.”

  Jeff rose and wandered over to her easel, seemingly completely comfortable naked. Unlike her. “So take him for all he’s got. Any judge would side with you.”

  She didn’t answer as she struggled to put on her smock. Pity her hands weren’t steady enough yet to manage it.

  He glanced over at her and dipped his thumb in the little well of yellow paint in the tray. “Why are you getting dressed?”

  “I’m cold.” She couldn’t exactly be relaxed while sitting around in the nude in front of a guy she’d met that evening. Clothes would help her think more clearly.

  “So let me warm you up.” He openly studied her, his gaze sliding over every part of her he could still see. The rest she suspected he was remembering. “These paints. What are they made out of?”

  “Vegetables and plant extracts. I teach preschool and—” She stopped talking as he approached, her horsehair brush in one hand and the cup of yellow paint in the other. “What are you doing?”

  “Are they nontoxic?”

  She raised her eyebrows, reasonably sure where he was going with his line of questioning. “Yes. I buy them from a company in Sweden for just that reason. Sometimes I take my paints to school and the kids get their hands in everything. These are completely safe. Washable with just soap and water and nonpoisonous if they accidentally eat them. Accidentally,” she stressed.

  And she was babbling. What the heck did he plan to do with her yellow paint?

  His hot blue gaze held her motionless. “Do me a favor, Karyn?”

  She didn’t agree. Not yet. “What?”

  “Take off your smock.”

  Chapter Four

  “Jeff—” Karyn began.

  “I always wanted to paint stuff. Thought it would be fun. I’d like to paint you.” Jeff saturated the brush, brought the dripping tip close to his nose. “Damn, this smells good. Like ice cream.”

  “It’s also made with milk.” When had she started shivering? “I’d have to take a shower right away.”

  “We can do that.” He waggled his brows and made her smile. “You can do me too. Just don’t paint anything I can’t afford to lose.”

  A laugh escaped her as she shrugged out of her smock yet again. “Ditto.” Taking a steadying breath, she strolled to her easel. “How do you feel about red?”

  “Why red?”

  “Because it’s an angry color and I rarely use it. You seem like you’re capable of exploding into rages if provoked.”

  She frowned. Why had she said that? Though she’d been teasing, he probably didn’t understand her humor yet.

  He only grinned. “Other ways I explode are much more fun. Let me demonstrate.”

  “Why do I believe that?” She came back to him, her backup brush and red paint in hand. “Just a little,” she warned as he moved closer, brush extended. That wasn’t all that had extended. His cock hardened, not all the way but gaining ground fast.

  She tried not to stare and realized she’d lost the battle when he chuckled. “Look your fill. I am.”

  Before she could comment, he smeared yellow in the valley between her breasts. The cool paint made her tremble and her nipples tightened to obvious peaks. “It’s cold.”

  His mouth curved. “I’ll warm you up. Promise.” He painted the center of her torso, twisting the brush so the slightly rough bristles scraped her skin. God, everything he did to her felt so good.

  “You know what I’d like to paint?” he asked after adding another couple of experimental flourishes to her quivering belly. He circled her, jabbing the brush into the paint so hard she heard it bump the bottom of the cup. “Your ass. Both perfect round cheeks.”

  “Yellow? That can’t be sexy.”

  “It is from back here.” He’d already started sweeping the bristles down her left cheek. That she couldn’t see precisely what he was doing added another thrill. “I’d love to see this ass in jeans. It’s made for them. Those really tight ones, with the low-rise waist.”

  In spite of herself, she giggled. Actually giggled. “I don’t wear those kind of jeans.”

  “You should.”

  “Mmm hmm. Maybe with a tube top too, no bra. And my hair all loose. Oh, and high heels. The really high kind I can’t walk in.”

  He continued to paint her left cheek. “Slutty makeup. You forgot the slutty makeup.”

  “I don’t wear makeup.”

  He stopped, craned his head to look at her. “But you’d do all the rest? I like you, Karyn.” He hesitated. “What’s your maiden name?”

  “Allison.”

  “That’s a first name.”

  “It’s a last name too.”

  “Karyn Allison,” he said under his breath, resuming his painting job. A moment later, he put the paint back on the tray and washed the brush in the cup of water. “Middl
e name?”

  “Colette.”

  “Karyn Colette Allison. That sounds like a doll on a shelf.”

  “A naked doll at the moment.” She turned and raised her own brush, waving it through the air. “My turn.”

  He didn’t move, waiting for her to come to him. And come she did, bearing a brush laden with red paint. While he grinned down at her, his hooded eyes revealing how much he was enjoying this impromptu painting party, she swiped red lines over his chest, stippled the paint over his pecs. She caught her tongue between her teeth and concentrated on her design, only lifting her head when he hissed out a breath.

  Teasingly she flicked his nipple with her fingernail. “See, told you it was cold.”

  “Not why I hissed.” Jeff glanced pointedly between them. His erection now pointed due north, quite unabashedly. “That brush feels really good.”

  “Apparently.”

  “Don’t,” he said when she threatened to crown his pride and joy in red.

  She laughed. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

  “You done yet?”

  She added a couple more finishing touches. “Now I am.”

  Once she’d reorganized her easel and cleaned off her brush, she led him into the adjoining small bathroom so they could check themselves out in the mirror on the back of the door.

  “You painted a smiley-faced daisy on my chest,” he said, astonished. “With a little sun and clouds.” He tipped his head sideways. “Those are clouds, right?”

  “Yeah.” She shrugged. “I like flowers.” She turned around and let out a laugh at the twin smiles on her butt. “More smiley faces. We’re just a happy pair tonight.”

  “Apparently,” he said, echoing her earlier reply with a grin.

  He tugged her into his arms and covered her lips with his, sliding his tongue deep in one silky motion. She sucked on him lightly, arching her body against his so she could feel every inch of the hard cock trapped between them. He pulled her even closer, mashing her breasts to his chest in his quest to eliminate all distance between them.

  Soft strokes and tender words of praise might’ve made her suspicious but his rough manner helped her to trust him. What she saw was what she got with Jeff Maddox. And what she saw, she liked. A lot.