Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice

by Kimberly Raye

“Yeah?” He arched an eyebrow and kept soaping.

  She cleared her throat. “In order to really be good at pleasuring a woman, you should probably practice.”

  “I’ve thought the same thing myself.”

  “And since I’m your teacher, I would be the obvious one to practice with. I can tell you when you’re doing something wrong. And when you’re doing it right.”

  “Am I doing it right so far?”

  “Most definitely. But if you weren’t, I would be the first to tell you and steer you on the right path. After all, Girl Talk usually offers a money-back guarantee. Since you’re not paying me—you’re giving me lessons instead—this is the next best way to insure customer satisfaction.”

  “Satisfaction, huh?”

  “Most definitely, so I would be glad to help out in any way possible. Just so long as we’re both clear about what’s going on.”

  “Sex,” he said.

  “Strictly sex.”

  “Now,” she said as she reached down and took the soap from his hands. “We really should start at the beginning.”

  “I already know all I want to about Dinah the Vagina.” “Dinah was just a model. Today you’ll be meeting the real thing.” She lathered her hands, slid the soap in the dish and touched her own flesh.

  “Let me,” Clint started, but she shook her head. He’d made her watch and stirred her up, and now it was his turn.

  “This isn’t an interactive lesson.” Her palms slicked over her skin, starting at her neck and moving lower, over her collarbone, off to one shoulder then the other in a slow, gentle massage. “Not yet.”

  She wasn’t sure he would oblige her. His gaze was too dark, too hungry as he stared her down.

  She paused her ministrations and watched him swallow. A heart-pounding moment later, he nodded and raised his arms. One hand gripped the shower curtain rod while the other flattened against the opposite wall. His biceps bulged and his penis jutted forward and suddenly Skye couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

  There was just something about watching all those muscles ripple that stole the air from her lungs.

  She enjoyed the view for a few more heartbeats before drawing a deep breath and turning her attention back to the soapy hands paused on the slopes of her breasts. She slicked the lather down, around, under. Her nipples ripened even more as she touched them with her palms and massaged them for a stirring moment that made his gaze darken to a smoldering blue as hot and iridescent as the center of a flame.

  She let her touch slide lower, down her quivering abdomen to the vee between her legs. Her fingers slicked through the hot flesh between her legs. Her lips parted in a gasp at the sudden contact and his knuckles went white, as if he was fighting very hard to keep from touching her.

  Not nearly as hard as she was fighting, but she wanted to make sure she turned him on as much as he’d turned her on with his slow, thorough strokes.

  Her fingers slid back and forth, spreading the lather and making her entire body tremble. She’d touched herself intimately before. Masturbation was a normal expression of sexuality, but there was just something about doing it in front of him that made it feel that much more pleasurable.

  At the same time, it wasn’t nearly enough.

  A few more strokes and she knew she’d reached her limit. She took his hand from its place on the wall, his flesh warm against hers, and pressed his palm against her lower abdomen. His touch burned into her, sending flurries of heat dancing along her nerve endings. She moved his fingers lower, guiding him to the spot that ached for him the most.

  At the first moment of contact, she jumped. His thumb brushed over her throbbing clitoris and intense pleasure rushed through her.

  “Now this,” she said breathlessly, “is Dinah’s real-life counterpart.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” he murmured, his fingers stroking back and forth in a tantalizing motion.

  Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “That’s good.” “Just good?” He slid a finger just a fraction inside her slit and a moan rumbled up her throat.

  “Great,” she said once she found her voice. She braced her hands against his hard chest and wiggled just enough to pull him a little deeper. “Better than great.”

  “And how about this?” He pushed deeper and she thought she would orgasm right then and there. She could have. If he pulled back and plunged deep just once more, she would be a goner.

  But she didn’t want that. She wanted him. Inside her. With her.

  “Stop,” she gasped, grabbing his wrist. “Not yet. Not without you.”

  The last word faded into a gasp as he kissed her. His mouth was hot, determined and there was no doubt that he scored an A+ in the kissing department. His tongue delved deep, stroking and stirring in a hungry exploration. Then he pulled back, leaving her to take the lead, to chase his tongue back into his mouth and coax him back into action. Fast and slow. Aggressive and shy. He teased her, then retreated in a maddening cat-and-mouse game that drew her entire body to full, throbbing awareness.

  Until she wanted him so much she had to touch him. Her hands were on him then. She touched everywhere she could reach, slicking her palms up and down his hard shoulders and hair-roughened chest. His arms went around her, his hands sliding down her back to pull her flush against him. His hard length pressed into her stomach and he rubbed himself, his mouth devouring her in a long, wet kiss that made her knees tremble.

  He cupped her buttocks, kneading her bottom for a long moment as he drew her closer. Then he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck.

  His hard, throbbing flesh grazed the sensitive area between her legs, the length rubbing against her slick folds as he turned and stepped out of the tub. He kissed her hungrily as he walked the few feet from the bathroom to the bed and eased her down.

  Light filtered around the closed drapes, pushing back the shadows just enough to give her a good view of Clint as he rounded the end of the bed to grasp the shorts he’d shed. His arms flexed as he leaned down and retrieved a small foil packet from his pocket.

  A few seconds later, he stood beside her, towering over her as he rolled the condom down his thick length.

  She opened her legs and he settled between them.

  “I see you remember the missionary position,” she gasped as she felt the tip of his erection slide just a fraction inside her.

  “You’re tight.”

  “I have a confession. I know a lot about sex, but I don’t do it a lot. Not as often as people might think.” She wasn’t sure why she told him except that she was hot and bothered and totally unprepared for the mix of feelings that assaulted her as his body pressed into hers: excitement, vulnerability, hunger, desperation. And Skye Farrel did crazy things when she was unprepared. “I mean, I’ve had lovers, just not that many, and not here lately. Unless you count the King Kong Ultra my sister Xandra gave me last Christmas, but that’s only once in a while and I primarily use it for clitoral stimulation—”

  “You talk a lot during sex.”

  “Talk can be stimulating.” She clasped his jaw, his stubble rough against her palms as she drew him down for a quick, deep kiss before she slid her mouth across his cheek to his ear. “Sexy talk can be very stimulating.”

  “Sexy as in?”

  “I can feel you, so hot and hard, and I want you inside me so much I don’t think I can stand it anymore.”

  At her words, he retreated the inch he’d penetrated. His hands slid under her, cupping her bottom and tilting her to take all of him as he plunged deep.

  A shudder ripped through him and she touched him, feeling his body quake as she trailed the length of his back and touched his hard buttocks, pulling him even deeper.

  He stared down at her. “I must be doing it right.” “You get an A+ for effort. But I have to see the full technique before I can give you any real feedback.”

  He grinned, withdrawing and sliding deep again, and again.

  Her body clasped him and
he pounded into her, harder and faster, grinding her into the mattress and making the bed shake. The headboard slammed against the wall.

  She barely heard the noise, however. She was too focused on her own pounding heart and his deep, raspy breaths as he pushed her higher and higher toward the edge. Another thrust and she went flying over into the Land of the Sexually Satisfied.

  A tremor worked its way through her body, starting between her legs and spreading outward, gripping every nerve in her body until she felt like a live, pulsing wire. Exquisite sensation followed, sweeping through her and drenching her senses. Her inner muscles clasped at him, reluctant to let go and lose the delicious orgasm pulsing through her. She held him tight, drawing him deeper, again and again, until he followed her over the edge.

  A curse tore from his lips as his back arched, the cords in his neck drew tight and he climaxed.

  He collapsed on top of her for several fast, furious heartbeats before rolling over and pulling her on top of him.

  She rested her head in the curve of his shoulder and concentrated on trying to catch her breath.

  His hands slid up and down her back, soothing and calming for a long while, until their breath slowed and their heartbeats slowed and the air grew cool around them.

  “I guess I aced the test.”

  She lifted her head and stared down into his eyes. Amusement danced in the deep depths, along with something deeper. Something fierce and possessive that sent a tiny thrill through her, quickly followed by a rush of panic.

  She frowned. “I wouldn’t get too smug yet. This was just a pop quiz.” Surprise filtered across his face and anger gleamed in his eyes.

  “This is just one of the top ten most popular positions every man should know if he really wants to pleasure a woman. Which means the jury’s still out. Not to mention there’s at least another ten Kama Sutra positions I personally recommend to lift the average lover to a higher level of performance.”

  “Is that so?” He flipped her on her back in one quick motion that caught her off guard.

  Uh, oh. Sure, she’d been trying to push his buttons, to push him away so that she could think, but maybe she’d pushed him too far. Men were much more delicate than women realized. At least, when it came to their egos.

  Clint smiled and hot challenge gleamed in his eyes. “I guess I’d better get started then. One down and nineteen more to go.” He dipped his head and drew her nipple into his mouth. He suckled her, his tongue licking and teasing the tip.

  Mmm . . . Maybe she’d punched the right button after all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s been having really good sex.” Jenny stood in the doorway of Skye’s office Sunday morning and eyed her boss.

  “That’s ridiculous.” Skye glanced up from her laptop and the new handout she was reworking for tomorrow night’s Girl Talk party. She smiled. “I have not been having really good sex.”

  She’d been having really great sex.

  Not for the past few days, mind you. They’d driven back late Thursday afternoon. Clint had dropped her at her high-rise and headed for the airport to fly out for practice and qualifying for this afternoon’s race. She hadn’t seen him since. But in the twenty-four hours before they’d parted ways, he’d made quite an impression as they went over nine more positions to complete the Most Popular Top Ten.

  Ten more to go to make the recommended twenty. Heat rushed through her body and made a permanent pit stop between her still tender thighs. Where he’d claimed to have been a poor student back in school, he shot the notion completely to hell and back in the bedroom. And the bathroom. And the small elevator of the hotel. And the tiny alcove near the ice machine.

  He’d kept up his A+ through each and every encounter, and even earned a few bonus points with a very creative move Skye had since dubbed Ice, ice, baby!

  The old Jenny would have demanded to know everything from kisses to positions to the number of orgasms, and Skye would have filled her in willingly. What good was sex if you couldn’t share the details with your best girlfriend?

  But the woman standing in her doorway simply watched her for a long, silent moment, before giving a shrug.

  The apprehension Skye had felt in the two months leading up to the wedding returned full force and her mother’s words echoed in her ears.

  “Once a woman gets married, she loses the woman she once was. She loses her spark. Her fire. Her freedom. She becomes just a shell. She looks the same, but there’s nothing inside. No more substance.”

  “I’m so glad to be back.” Jenny dropped a bright pink wicker satchel on her desk before collapsing into her chair. “I’ve got so much to do.”

  “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow. You’re technically still on vacation.”

  “I knew you would be working on Sunday—you’re always working—and my vacation ended the moment I stepped off the plane yesterday. Thankfully. A woman can drink just so many margaritas and watch just so many romantic sunsets. I mean, it’s great for a little while but I’m used to being busy. I could hardly sleep last night thinking about everything I needed to do today.”

  Okay, so maybe Skye was wrong. Just because Jenny had handcuffed herself to Duke, didn’t mean she’d morphed into the poster girl for wedded bliss.

  “It is going to be a busy week,” Skye said. “We’ve got eight bookings and we need to make an emergency run to the printers for more workshop brochures. I meant to go last week, but I got caught up in something.” Or rather someone. A certain someone by the name of Clint.

  Her thighs gave an answering ache and she smiled. And then she frowned.

  She was too busy to sit around thinking about Clint. Sex was fine, but it had its place and time. And it wasn’t here or now.

  Despite the very large bright orange rubber penis sitting on top of her TO DO tray.

  Skye grabbed the rubber penis and tossed it into her top desk drawer before heading back to the tray for the half-inch stack of stapled questionnaires she’d collected from this week’s hostesses. “I’m so glad you’re back. I was just about to dive into these and the thought of going it alone wasn’t the least bit appealing.”

  “I’m right here with the supportive vibes.” Jenny winked. “So you get to it and I’ll tackle these.” She unearthed a pile of opened gift cards. “I’ve got at least two hundred thank-you notes to write. And once that’s done, I’ve got to fill out a new checking account application— Duke and I are going joint now, not to mention I have to change my name and then there’s the whole social security thing to go through, and the driver’s license forms, and I’ll have to request new credit cards...”

  Bye, bye dear friend. Hello Mrs. Duke the Dietician. Skye’s stomach grumbled and her mouth watered as she thought of the gourmet cookies just waiting for her at the deli around the corner. Fifteen minutes away at the most. Ten if there was no line at the register.

  She forced the thought away, reached for her roll of SweetTarts and popped several into her mouth.

  Skye spent the rest of the afternoon organizing the questionnaires and compiling a list of answers to the most frequently asked questions. She paused only to offer a few variations on Jenny’s standard “Thank you for the Fry Daddy.”

  There was the obvious “We really appreciate the Fry Daddy,” to the “We loved the Fry Daddy,” to Skye’s stroke of standard wedding gift genius, “Fire up the vegetable oil, we can’t wait to fry instead of boil!”

  “All done,” Jenny finally declared after Skye had sucked her way through three rolls of candy. “How about you?”

  “Right with you.” Skye filed the questionnaires and logged off her laptop before closing the lid.

  Jenny glanced at her watch. “Duke’s probably still at the hospital.” At Skye’s raised eyebrows, she added, “He was just as eager to get back to work. Say, why don’t we head over to Potent Produce. I haven’t had a really good salad since I left for Jamaica.”

  If she’d said cooki
es, they would be in business. As it was, Skye was depressed enough without adding a very healthy salad to the mix. “You go on ahead. I’ve still got a lot of work to do for tomorrow night’s workshop.”

  “See you in the morning then.” She gathered up her stuff. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She reached into her purse and smiled. “I brought you a souvenier.”

  Shock rolled through Skye as Jenny pulled out a hand-carved piece of wood.

  “It’s a penis,” she said when Skye remained silent.

  “I can see that.”

  “A wooden penis.”

  “I can see that too.”

  “A wooden vibrator. Not that it vibrates. The natives don’t have access to batteries. But it has these smooth little ridges and when you twist it, it’s better than a vibrator. I found it in this quaint little village when Duke and I went on a safari inland. The woman said it was originally crafted to keep the women happy while the men were away on hunts.”

  “You brought me a wooden vibrator,” Skye said as the meaning of the souvenir sank in.

  Jenny frowned. “You don’t like it, do you? Duke told me to get you a T-shirt, but that’s so impersonal. I wanted to get you something I knew you would love and this is a one-of-a-kind. They’re all individually crafted, so that no two penises are alike. I thought you could work it into one of the workshops when you give a brief history of masturbation and its universal appeal. It’s educational.”

  “It’s great.”

  A look of relief passed across Jenny’s face. “I’m so glad you like it. You were so nice about all the crazy wedding nonsense and I wanted to get you something extra special.”

  “It’s the best thing anyone’s ever—what did you say?” “You were so nice.”

  “You said crazy wedding nonsense. I heard it. You said it. Crazy as in wedding as in nonsense.”

  Jenny gave a sheepish smile. “I did get a little crazy. I actually hyperventilated because the caterer cut the carrots lengthwise instead of across for the vegetable trays.” She shook her head. “I was just under a lot of pressure and people do crazy things under pressure.”