by Nona Raines
She played with him and teased just as he’d done for her, licking and sucking. His clean, salty flavor thrilled her taste buds, his musky scent made her dizzy. She loved the way his eyelids lowered, how he hissed in pleasure. Being in control, exciting him, filled her with a delicious sense of power that fizzed and bubbled in her like sparkling wine.
Slowly, he pushed her away and withdrew. “Enough.”
He grabbed a condom and tore it open, his gaze never breaking with hers as he rolled the sheath down his shaft. He was the very picture of lust—his eyes hooded, his face rosy, his lips full—and Blaise gloried in knowing she inspired it.
When she would have lain on her back, Guy gently rolled her to her right side, facing away from him. “This way.” She bent her left leg at his urging, and he snugged up behind her, sliding his cock between her folds.
She trembled and gave a shuddery laugh. “I don’t remember this one. What’s it called?”
Tingles rippled through her as he pressed hot kisses behind her ear and along the back of her neck. “I don’t know. We haven’t gotten that far in the book.”
They both laughed, but her chuckles turned to gasps and moans as he pumped his hips back and forth, nudging her with his cock. “You like that?”
“Uh. Oh.” He expected a response? “Yes.” She thrust her pelvis back, wanting him urgently now. He took pity on her and entered her gradually, stretching her bit by bit. Oh, so good. But he was too slow, too careful. She got greedy again and pushed back hard. She groaned in delight, in utter satisfaction, when at last he filled her completely.
But he didn’t stay. As he moved forward and back, her body followed, writhing sinuously, trying to hold him. He pumped into her, palming her breast. He moved his hand lower, teasing between her thighs then pressing firmly on her clit. White-hot sparks crackled behind her closed eyelids. She turned her head blindly toward him, searching for his kiss. Her mouth found his as her pussy contracted around him, pulsing with the orgasm that washed over her. Guy’s other hand gripped her shoulder, and he stilled behind her in his own climax.
They kissed a while longer, lips and tongues playing softly until he slipped away and she sank face forward into the pillow. She drowsed a bit while he left the bed briefly—to get rid of the condom? When he returned, she flopped back toward him, snuggling against his warm, solid frame.
He chuckled as she nuzzled her nose against his neck. “Tickles.”
Blaise, drowsy and bit shy, smiled at him. What happens now? Was it time to dress and go home? Say “Thanks a lot, it’s been fun?” Was he waiting for her to make the first move? What did he want?
What do you want, Blaise? You’re just as much a part of this as he.
She wanted more.
The silence was abruptly broken by the loud grumble of her stomach. She slapped her palm to her middle. “Whoops.” She laughed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m hungry, too. We both skipped dinner.” He rolled off the bed and grabbed a menu from the side table. “How does room service sound?”
“Sounds great.”
Forty-five minutes later, she perched on the club chair in just her blouse and panties, biting into a tuna melt with a side of onion rings. Guy sat on the edge of the bed, wearing his shorts and working on a cheeseburger with French fries.
“Do you take the bus every day?” he asked.
They hadn’t yet exchanged last names, but it couldn’t hurt to share a few details of her life. Besides, she was curious about him, too.
“Yes. I work at the Lovell School.”
He looked impressed. “Oh, that’s the place for students with disabilities. You’re a teacher?”
She smiled but felt a twinge of worry that she might disappoint him. “No, I’m just an aide.”
He didn’t seem disappointed at all. “There’s nothing just about it. You’re really hands on with the students, then.”
“Yes. Well, we all pitch in, teachers included. The kids have a lot of challenges, but they’re amazing.”
His mouth widened into a grin. “Your face lights when you talk about it. You must love your job.”
“It took me a while to find my niche in life, I guess you could say. But you’re right, I do love it there.” Did he wonder why she wasn’t a teacher, why she hadn’t gone farther in life?
“You like helping people.”
Her cheeks went hot. “They’ve helped me just as much as I’ve helped them.”
His quizzical look asked how so? But he didn’t push, just left her an opening in case she wanted to elaborate. She found herself wanting to open up, to share something with him she’d shared with few others. “It’s more than just a job. The students there, the teachers…they’re like a second family.” The Lovell School had given her a purpose in life aside from her daughter.
He removed a hidden piece of tomato from his cheeseburger and set it aside on the plate. “Have you always wanted to work with kids?”
“I sort of stumbled into it.” She gestured to her plate. “Would you like some onion rings?”
“Only if you’ll take some of my French fries.” They made the exchange, and Guy waited patiently for her to continue her story.
“I’ve bounced around a lot of jobs in my life. Anything I could find to make ends meet. I was a single mother, so I did whatever I could to scratch out a living for my daughter and me.” Sometimes juggling two and even three jobs at a time. But she wasn’t looking to host a pity party.
“Your daughter’s father didn’t help out?”
A chill passed through her. She didn’t want to think about Reese, Ashlynn’s father. One of the biggest mistakes of her life. Still, if she hadn’t made that mistake, there’d be no Ashlynn. “No. He’s never been in her life. We weren’t married.”
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
“Oh, it’s all right. I just—”
“How old is your little girl?”
Blaise grinned. “My little girl’s a grown woman.”
It would have been natural to mention Ashlynn’s upcoming nuptials, but Blaise was suddenly reluctant to spill the beans. She was pretty sure she was older than Guy, and was fine with it. That made her a cougar. Silly, but she hated for him to picture her as a matron—the mother of the bride in a frumpy outfit and a gaudy hat. Not when she sat here with him, rumpled and glowing from sex and hoping for a second helping—not of onion rings.
Speaking of which. “Could you spare some of your ketchups?” She’d already used all her own little packets.
“Take them all. I don’t use it.” He deposited them on her plate.
“Thanks. So.” She smiled. “I’ve run my mouth long enough. What do you do?”
“You mean you couldn’t tell from all my questions? I’m a lawyer.”
“Oh.” Now that was impressive.
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Not one of the wealthy ones, though. I’m an attorney with Legal Services.”
He definitely wasn’t in the legal profession for the money. “I see.”
“I work with the elderly, children, survivors of domestic abuse. It’s a pretty mixed bag.”
Blaise admired him even more. “You like helping people, too.”
He nodded. “I think I’ve helped some, yeah.”
“Was that something you always wanted to do? The law, I mean.”
“Not right away. For a while, I thought I might be a teacher like my father.” He wiped his mouth and placed his crumpled napkin on his plate. “My mom’s an accountant, but numbers aren’t my thing. My roommate in college was pre-law, and he got me thinking about it. As it happened, he ended up dropping out, but I decided to go for it.”
“Your family must be very proud of you.”
“They’re proud of both their children. I have a sister. I think my abuelo was proudest of all.”
“Your grandfather.”
His eyes lit up. “You know Spanish.”
“A few words.” She’d picked them up
from Desi and her mother, Gloria.
“Abuelo was in his eighties when I passed the bar exam. He actually cried when he heard the news. He worked as a custodian and lived to see his grandson become a lawyer.”
Blaise blinked hard and had to clear her throat before she spoke again. “That’s an amazing story. Your family really embodies the American Dream.” She wondered what he’d make of her story, nowhere near as inspiring. An unintended pregnancy at nineteen, being forced to drop out of college, years of scrounging at minimum wage jobs to support even a crummy standard of living.
“Hello?” He tilted his head, peered at her intently. “You seemed to go somewhere else for a minute.”
“No, it’s nothing.” Her smile felt more like a grimace.
He nodded at her plate. “Have you finished?”
“Oh. Yes.”
He stood, gathered their plates and glassware, and placed the tray outside the door. Blaise slipped back into bed, admiring his firm backside as he walked away from her and his taut abs as he headed back toward the bed. On his way, he stopped and picked up Cupid’s Delight from the armchair. He smiled, one corner of his mouth hitched a bit higher than the other.
“Remember this?”
“Oh, yeah. You bet.” She smiled, patted the empty pillow beside her.
He climbed into bed and leaned against the headboard with the book. She snuggled against his solid form, her head nestled in the groove between his neck and shoulder. It fit there perfectly, as though designed especially for her.
Guy held the book in his left hand, his right arm keeping Blaise snug against him. He read aloud while she turned the pages.
Chapter Four
Blaise shifted in the darkness, gradually becoming aware of the heavy bedclothes and the warm solid body beside her. For a moment, she froze in panic. This wasn’t her room, her bed. A blink later, she remembered where she was and who shared the bed with her.
Thanks to Cupid’s Delight the evening had been most memorable. Twice she and Guy had set the book aside to re-enact an episode from the hero’s delightfully naughty adventures.
Smiling in satisfaction, she rolled his way. It felt so luxurious and decadent to press her naked breasts against his back, nuzzle his neck. His scent mingled with the aroma of sex saturating the room.
There was no shyness in her as she reached across his hip to stroke his sleeping cock. It responded to her touch, growing, hardening, awakening perhaps before the man himself did. It wasn’t long though before Guy murmured and rolled to his back.
“What—”
“Shh…” She covered his lips with her fingers to shush him. Blaise was sleepy and sex-drunk. She might be dreaming and, if so, never wanted to wake up.
She rose and straddled his hips, leaned down to kiss him, and flicked her tongue along the seam of his lips. His mouth opened, and he sucked on her tongue as though it were a delicious stick of candy. He was trying to claim her, but Blaise didn’t want that. She wanted to be in control. Wanted to claim him.
She pulled back with a laugh, swinging her hair off her shoulders, then grasped his cock. She pumped it, pausing from time to time to caress the velvety cockhead with her thumb, massaging slippery pre-cum into his skin.
“Is that good?” She spoke in a whisper, so not to disturb the dream.
“Mmm. Yes.” The answer came in a hiss. He bucked up into her touch. She cupped his balls, teased that tender little spot behind them with a finger.
He almost bucked her off him that time. She laughed. “That good, huh? Hold on. I’ll make it even better.”
She grabbed a rubber from the nightstand and tore open the packet. She pinched the air from the condom’s tip and after feeling for its lip, placed it in her mouth. Dipping her head, she unrolled the condom over his cockhead with her lips and tongue, using her hands to roll it down completely. Though latex wasn’t her favorite flavor, using this little trick to please Guy made her hot. Tingles raced through her.
“Hold on.” She lifted herself over him and guided his cock inside her. “It’s going to be a wild ride.”
She moaned, sliding down his thick shaft. Yes. She was a bad, bad cowgirl, and he was her stud. She’d show him what she could do.
That’s when Guy turned the tables. He grabbed her arms and jerked her down for a wet, deep, open-mouthed kiss. A fuck me kiss. And she would. She was. Blaise scraped her breasts against his rough, crinkly chest hair, then tore away to suck in air before he pulled her back. They fought each other with crushing kisses and dueling tongues, struggling for mastery.
“Let me. Let me,” she gasped, and finally he let her pull away to sit up again on his raging hard cock. Her nipples, clit, and pussy were all on fire. Hell, every inch of her skin was ablaze.
She moved slowly at first, loving the way he filled her. But soon, she needed more, faster. Her thighs quivered as she rode him hard, her blood thundered in her ears, and her lungs burned as she gasped for breath. Just when she thought she might collapse from exhaustion still unsatisfied, he snaked his hand between her thighs. The brush of his finger on her clit sent her over, and her core clutched him as it pulsed with her orgasm.
That brought him with her. His thighs tensed beneath her and his fingers dug into her hips as he came.
****
When she awoke later, it was to the bright morning sun and the aroma of coffee. She opened her eyes to find Guy at the edge of the bed holding a cup. He smiled down at her. “I don’t know how you take your coffee.”
She sat up, stretching. “Black is fine.” She accepted the cup, took a sip of the strong brew. He’d already dressed and shaved, and his still-damp wavy hair indicated he’d showered as well.
As good as he looked, she preferred him tousled, the way he’d been last night.
“How old are you?” she heard herself ask and blushed at how abrupt she sounded.
His eyebrows rose a bit at the unexpected question, but his smile didn’t waver. “I’m thirty-eight.”
Doubt pinged her. Okay, she’d assumed he was younger, but six years?
Guy’s mother must have taught him that a gentleman never asks a lady her weight or her age, because he didn’t turn the question around on her. Blaise bit the bullet all the same. “I’m forty-four.”
Again, there was no diminishing of his smile. “Then I guess we’re both plenty old enough to know what we’re doing.”
And what are we doing? What am I doing?
With a shaky smile, she set her unfinished cup on the nightstand, stood, and gathered up her clothes. “Think I’ll grab a shower myself.”
She made it a quick one, then scrambled into her clothes. She had no toothbrush, so used her finger and the tiny guest tube of toothpaste to clean her teeth. Better than nothing. Running a comb through her tangled locks, she sighed, already missing Guy, although they hadn’t yet said goodbye. Now she remembered why she’d never liked hookups. She wasn’t very good at them. She always got a little too emotional, then too sad when they were over.
It would be particularly hard saying goodbye to this man. Their connection had not only been sexual, but personal. Their conversations between romps had been eye opening and thoughtful. She’d been sure he’d felt the pull, too.
Based on what, Blaise? Your wishful thinking? Just because you feel something doesn’t mean he does.
When she emerged from the bathroom, her coffee cup had been refilled. Not only was he an intelligent and downright sexy man, he was a considerate one. She picked up the coffee, grateful for something to do with her hands in their last few awkward moments together.
Time to say goodbye as gracefully as possible. “It’s almost check out time, isn’t it? I should be going.” She set the cup down, then took her purse from the top of the dresser. “Maybe we’ll see each other again sometime on the bus.”
Oh, hell. Why did she say that? Now he’d think she was angling for a repeat performance. Desperate older woman looking to get laid again.
She wanted to let go li
ghtly. She had to get back to her real life, to being the sober and responsible Mother of the Bride. She’d had the best night of her life, and that was fine. She had no further expectations.
And yet—
“Blaise, I’d like to take you out for breakfast.” He took a quick glance at the digital clock-radio. It read ten forty-seven and check out was eleven a.m. “Or brunch might be a better option. What do you say?”
Excitement fizzed inside her. If he’d wanted to be rid of her, he could just let her go with a “Thanks, it was great.” But offering to prolong their time together? Maybe he felt the same pull that she did.
He caught her momentary hesitation. “We don’t have to say goodbye just yet.”
She surprised herself for the second time that morning. “But maybe we should.”
His startled look gave her the determination to go on. Last night she told herself she wanted more. Well, that hadn’t changed. She didn’t want to wait like a schoolgirl and “let the boy decide” what course to take. “If this is all we’re going to have, then I don’t think I want to prolong the goodbyes.”
“I see.” His eyebrows lowered, and his mouth firmed, an expression she took as anger. Blaise’s stomach tightened into a knot. She’d been too pushy, and he wasn’t having it. Well, at least she’d made her feelings known.
He picked up his jacket and shrugged into it. “In that case, let’s not say goodbye at all.”
She’d misread him. Her flattened hopes filled with air, became buoyant with possibilities. They’d only spent one night together, true. But now at least they’d have a chance to get to know each other, to find out if they really clicked.
A smile lit his face. “Brunch, then?”
Her own lips curved. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Terrific.” He patted his back pocket. “I’ll need my wallet.” He gestured to the items he’d placed on the dresser last night. “Would you mind?”
“No problem.” She picked up his watch and wallet in one hand, but somehow fumbled while handing them over. The wallet fell to the carpet and spilled open.
