HotText

by Cari Quinn

  “Twenty-two.” Jeff grabbed another piece of cheese just so he had something to chew. He would’ve preferred nails but it would have to do.

  “He likes them young.”

  “You can say that again.” He popped a grape in his mouth and reached for the wine, drinking straight from the bottle. Screw it. She might as well know who she was dealing with if she was sleeping with him. “Sorry,” he said when he caught her stare. “I’m not Mr. Manners.”

  “You don’t say.” When he set the bottle down, she surprised him by lifting it to her mouth. She dribbled a little liquid down her cleavage and he had to adjust his cock—and his earlier estimation.

  He thought he’d seen her at her sexiest before? Hell no. That move just won.

  “Better from the bottle,” she decided, emptying her own wineglass. She let the glass fall to the mattress between them as she went back to the bottle for another hit.

  “You trying to kill me?” He speared a hand through her hair and dragged her closer, covering her lips with his before she’d had a chance to swallow. Cheap red wine—which she hadn’t complained about and had even smiled over—spilled into his mouth and he groaned as her tongue chased it. “I want you again,” he said, meeting her gaze.

  “About time. It’s been at least an hour.”

  He dropped his forehead against hers. “Would it be inappropriate if I again commented on your ex’s stupidity?”

  “No. Comment on that all you’d like.” She plucked a grape off the platter and fed it to him. “Your sister’s probably cute, if she looks like you. Though I have a confession.”

  “You like girls?”

  “Ha ha. No. I didn’t think you were cute at first.”

  Jeff grabbed his chest and fell onto his back, nearly toppling the rest of the grapes. “No! Anything but that. You didn’t think I was cute? How can you say that, you shrew?”

  Her giggle threaded through him as sweetly as the cheap wine and left an even better aftertaste. “It gets worse. I thought you were…”

  “Ugly? If so, you warmed up pretty well.” He tweaked her nipple, smiling as it beaded from his touch. “And continue to do so.”

  “Not ugly, no. I thought you were like me. Attractive, but sort of average.”

  “Average,” he repeated, blinking until she came more sharply into focus in the soft light cast from the bedside lamp. Her hair tumbled around her face, framing her warm brown eyes and pink cheeks. “Average?”

  “I don’t think you’re average anymore. I think you’re—” She stopped, took another gulp of wine. “Yummy.”

  He had to laugh. “Me or my cock?”

  She glanced down at the member in question and back up at his face. “Truthfully? Both.”

  He grinned. “Christ, I think I love you.”

  Chapter Five

  Jeff eased back, noticing that she’d stiffened. Way to go, stud. “Metaphorically speaking,” he added carefully.

  “I know. It’s just been a long time since anyone’s said they love me, metaphorically or otherwise.” Karyn pushed aside the plates and the wineglass between them and curled against his side, resting her head on his chest. “I’ve never had an affair before.”

  “Never?”

  “No. Lon was my third lover. We met the summer before college. The first two guys were my high school boyfriends. I figured some things improved with time.” She circled his nipple with a blue nail. “And they did, before the sharp and irreversible decline.”

  He bit off a laugh. “When will the divorce be final?”

  “Don’t know. I haven’t looked at the papers yet.”

  Now he stiffened. Even knowing he didn’t have a right to react that way didn’t stop him. “Why not?”

  “I’m not sure.” She sighed. “Think I’m a little drunk. Feels lovely.”

  That was all well and good. Yay for her. But there was still that minor matter of her divorce papers to discuss. “You’re not going to fight it, are you?”

  “The divorce? No. Of course not. Do you think you’d be here if I planned to?”

  “I don’t know.” There came that damn prim edge to his voice he hated.

  He’d heard himself use it when Shelley said she’d found someone new and wanted a trial separation. He’d also used it when Hilary had spouted a variation of the same and told him she didn’t mind staying married to him but wanted to “explore” other relationships too.

  By and large he wasn’t a fan of marriage.

  “I’m not a cheater. If I was, do you think I would’ve waited for you to text me to suddenly realize it?”

  “No, probably not.” He rubbed her shoulder in wordless apology.

  “My God, I’m dense,” she said, jerking up to a sitting position. The grapes tumbled out of the dish, rolling all over the bed. Neither attempted to gather them up. “You texted me to try to get me back with my husband so he would leave Daisy alone.”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  She frowned at his admission. What did she expect? Some fancy lie? Not the way he was built. “Doesn’t sleeping with me defeat that purpose?”

  “Pretty much,” he said again, tracing his fingertip around her full dark pink lips. Sexy lips that shouldn’t be frowning but smiling. Or engulfing his cock, one incredible inch at a time. “Daisy’s on her own now. I sure as hell don’t want you back with him anymore.”

  “Shouldn’t you have been honest with me?”

  “I wasn’t dishonest.” He locked his jaw and glanced at the ceiling. “All right, you win. I should have spelled it out.”

  “Is this when I get pissed at you and our booty call ends?”

  He tried not to laugh as he took in her serious expression. “Up to you.”

  She trailed her fingernail down his stomach, following the dark, unruly line of hair to his groin. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” she said, scratching his skin enough to let him know she hadn’t forgiven him despite what she said.

  Worked for him. Annoyed sex could be even better than happy-go-lucky sex.

  “Want to fuck?”

  Her brows drew together. “You’re very single-minded, Jeffrey Maddox.”

  “I am. How do you want it?”

  She gave him a hint of a smile. “Good.”

  “You ask a lot,” he said, rolling out of bed. “Ever done it from behind?” He grinned at her quizzical look. “On your hands and knees, I mean. We modified it earlier to fit the accommodations.”

  “Your ability to roll with the punches is admirable.” She shrugged. “A couple times. All I remember is sore joints.”

  “You’ll like it this time.”

  “If not, can I get my money back?”

  “No refunds here.” He tugged on her hair, pleased that she laughed so readily. “Satisfied every time’s the Maddox motto.”

  “What a relief. I think I forgot to get a gift receipt.”

  After replenishing his supply of condoms from the package on the floor, he came back to her and motioned for her to flip over. “Show me that ass, sweetheart. Time for another new experience.”

  He expected her to balk, maybe even to suggest another position altogether. But she didn’t bat an eyelash as she capped the wine bottle, set it aside and rolled over onto all fours.

  “There’s something else I’ve never had,” she said as he knelt between her legs and stroked a hand up her silky-smooth back.

  “What’s that?”

  “An urge to fuck a really rude guy,” she said, throwing him a glittering smile over her shoulder. “Or should I say fuckingly rude?”

  He laughed so hard he had to press his face against her spine to catch his breath. “Since we’re sharing truths, I’ve never liked someone so much, so fast,” he said when he could speak again.

  “Does that mean anyone or just women you’re attracted to?”

  “Both.”

  “Hmm. Guess it’s obvious I like you too. Rude and all. Then again, Oscar the Grouch always was my favorite Sesame Street ch
aracter. You don’t happen to live in a trash can, do you?”

  “Close. King Street, third floor walkup. Living room, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and tiniest damn balcony you’ve ever seen.”

  She bowed her head to brace it on her folded hands. “Least you aren’t green.”

  “No, but my balls are turning blue.” He whistled at her new pose. The perfect supplicant, waiting for her pleasure. “You really work for me, Karyn Allison.”

  “Happy to hear it. And ditto. Now please…” She trailed off. “Please fuck me, Jeff.”

  Not a demand she had to make twice.

  Jeff rubbed his hands over her supple skin and sucked in a breath as she arched. There was something so alluring about a woman’s—this woman’s—creamy back, especially offset by her wavy dark hair. She was sensual in the extreme and so beautifully fragile. But not weak. She had an inner strength he doubted she even gave herself credit for. She might bend, but break? Not Karyn.

  He slid on the condom, eager to have her snug heat surrounding him. “Let me in.”

  She surprised him again when she spread her thighs wide, rocking her hips while he circled his cock over her entrance. Damp flesh greeted him, dragging a moan from his throat the farther he sank.

  “Better hold on,” he managed, waiting until she’d gripped the sheets in her delicate hands, silver rings flashing, before he started to move. “You’re about to learn about rude, annoyed sex.”

  “Are we annoyed?” she gasped as he pushed deeper, grinding into her with hot, incessant friction.

  “Even if we’re not, pretend.” He drew back and pumped into her, forcing her body to accede to his invasion. She stretched around him gloriously, her tight sheath enveloping him over and over. Too much. He wouldn’t come before she’d caught up with him, but she’d have to get a move on.

  Fast.

  “Touch yourself,” he said, gripping her hips tighter. He didn’t want to bruise her but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to help himself. She felt fantastic. “Make yourself wet.”

  “Wetter, you mean.” Her voice sounded seductively breathy. “Since I think I already qualify—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you are, make more.”

  She laughed and slipped her hand to her sex. “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Tentative brushes of her fingertips glided over his dick. She clenched around him, throwing her head back so that her dark hair cascaded halfway to her ass. He reached up to wind his hand through her curls, pulling harder than he’d intended. Needing that jolt to remind him this was real, that she wasn’t a figment of his overworked imagination.

  The slap of their bodies moving together echoed in his head. Real. Brutally honest. Stripped bare. They were that together and more. For one night, they’d given each other that much.

  For long suspended moments he drove into her, expending a breath every time she took him deep. She captured him inside her, inner tissues rippling, her body fisting him for a beat, then two, until she cried out and let go.

  Fuck yeah. Now.

  Karyn pulsed around his length so wildly he couldn’t hold back. He groaned and thrust hard, surely leaving marks, probably ripping out her hair while he stroked into her without reserve. She let out a sound crossed between a wail and a scream, her spasms extending when he changed the angle. Christ, she was coming again. He buried himself to the hilt, his cock jerking as he drained himself into the condom. Giving her all of himself. More than she was probably ready to take.

  He collapsed on top of her, the scent of her sweat-sheened skin making him want to burrow deeper and never leave. Eventually he made himself roll over but he didn’t open his eyes. Too much effort. Even breathing took all his concentration.

  “You fucking killed me,” he said in between bouts of mutual wheezing.

  Karyn turned over to face him and blew away a damp curl. “I pretended to be really mad. Next time I’ll work on furious.”

  Chuckling, he slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. Only then did he realize crushed grapes clung to her breasts. He bent his head and flicked her nipple, savoring the sweet fruit and even sweeter woman. She moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him against her until he’d consumed every last drop of juice and mashed chunk of grape.

  “Bet I’m so clean I sparkle,” she murmured. “You, on the other hand…”

  He glanced down, noting the cheese he now wore as a spread on his knees. Who the hell knew where the dishes and the wine bottle had gone.

  “Think we’re gonna need another shower,” he said with a grin.

  * * * * *

  Karyn awakened to the sound of bells. Church bells? A wedding?

  They continued to chime until she discerned it wasn’t bells, plural, but the doorbell. Of her house. She rubbed the cobwebs out of her eyes and ignored it, figuring it could be a new paperboy or something. When the bell rang for, oh, the seventh time or so, she realized her visitor with pathetic timing had no intention of leaving.

  Jeff tightened his arm around her waist. “Want me to handle it?”

  She smiled. God, it was nice having a man around again. Especially one like Jeff. And what that meant she had no intention of dwelling on.

  “No, I’ll get the door. You’re a guest.” She slid away from him, already missing his body heat as she reached for the robe hanging from one of the bedposts. The blue terry cloth covered her from neck to ankles, but Jeff’s attention as she tied the belt made her skin prickle with awareness. “Go back to sleep.”

  On the way to the door, she tried to fluff her tangled hair. She quickly gave up. Hopefully she wouldn’t horrify anyone.

  “Who is it?” she called as her bare foot hit the cold hardwood floor of the foyer.

  “Lon.”

  Her hand fisted around the banister. Terrific.

  She inhaled a deep breath and marched forward, determined not to be deterred in her own home. At least it would be hers for a while longer.

  “Hi,” she said as she pulled open the door and squinted in the early morning sunlight. “You’re early.” She made herself smile. “By about six hours.”

  He cocked his head, rolling the newspaper he held between his palms. His brown hair fell in disordered waves around his rawboned face—tousled by Daisy’s hands perhaps—and he wore mirrored sunglasses that hid his dark eyes. His eyes were always sleepy, always bored. At first she’d assumed it had to be an affectation. But she’d slowly, painfully learned his cool disdain came naturally.

  “You said morning. It’s almost seven. That’s morning, right?” He tossed the paper on the hall table and scratched his smooth jaw. “You have my phone?”

  “Yes, I do.” She bit her lip and wondered how long Jeff would stay upstairs. Before she’d finished the thought, she heard thundering footsteps on the creaky steps. “Come in,” she said, opening the door wider just as her lover stepped into the front hall.

  He’d put on his jeans. She was grateful for that much. But he hadn’t bothered with a shirt and definitely didn’t bother hiding the disgusted curl of his lip.

  “Jeff, you know Lon,” she said, moving back as the two men stared at each other. If someone threw a punch she wasn’t about to get caught in the crossfire.

  She took the opportunity provided by the heavy silence that hung between them to study the two men. Jeff was shorter, stockier, more built. He also had harder edges. Even the glint in his gorgeous eyes spoke of his willingness to take a swing to defend her honor. She didn’t think he waded into most of the messes he came upon but if necessary, he wouldn’t be a bystander. He’d get down and dirty with the best of them.

  Lon loomed over them both, though he didn’t have an extra pound on him from his years of careful diet and exercise. He never spoke a cross word or grew impatient. No, he simply checked out. Even the reflective surface of his sunglasses offered a perfect mirror of his personality. Hot-blooded he wasn’t. At least not with her.

  “I know him. How’s Daisy this morning?” Jeff asked,
crossing his arms over his chest.

  “She’s fine. Why are you in my home?” Lon didn’t sound pissed, just mildly curious.

  “Your home. Not hers, even though she lives here too and you’re long gone.”

  She shot Jeff a glance, simultaneously gratified and dismayed by his quick defense. Didn’t he understand arguing would only make everything worse?

  For whom? How much longer can you stay mute and numb?

  “Jeff’s a…friend,” she said in an attempt to quiet both her mind and her lover. She didn’t want arguments, didn’t need strife and she definitely didn’t like the hot look Jeff tossed her.

  What did he expect her to say? If Lon had half a brain, he could guess what had happened between them.

  “Yeah, I’m her friend who just put on his pants.”

  Karyn didn’t attempt to stop Jeff when he turned around and headed back upstairs. She just wanted peace.

  She shoved her hands through her hair in frustration. God, when was she going to realize she wasn’t going to get peace? It just wasn’t going to happen. She needed to stand up for herself for once—and for Jeff—or she’d be on her own again and it would be her own damn fault.

  “You’re sleeping with Maddox?”

  She would’ve taken outrage better than shock. Lon sounded stunned at the mere possibility she had a lover. No wonder her self-confidence needed some work.

  “His name is Jeff.” She dropping her hands to her sides. “Yes, I’m sleeping with him. Since you’re involved with his sister, you can’t claim to not understand the family appeal.”

  For once he had the courtesy to look embarrassed. “Daisy’s a student of mine at the night school. She came in to take a course and—”

  “And you decided to hell with professional ethics?”

  “It’s not a university,” he said under his breath. “They’re just continuing education courses. She’s above age.”

  “Barely.”

  “That’s not the point. The point is you. How long have you been sleeping with him?” he demanded, showing more interest in her than he had in years.

  She glanced at the slim bangle watch around her wrist. “Seven hours, give or take.”