Nailed

by Cindy Spencer Pape

  “Not so fast, sugar.” With one powerful move, he flipped her onto her back, holding himself above her on his elbows. “One little detail to take care of first.” He shifted onto his knees, reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the strip of condoms. Karen watched as he deftly tore off one and tossed the others aside. Then he opened it and carefully rolled the latex sheath onto his erection.

  Poised above her, Warner stopped moving, and simply looked at her. How had she ever assumed that blue eyes were cold? Warner’s sparkled with heat.

  Karen smiled. “Then what are you waiting for?” She reached down and clasped his cock in her hand, drawing him down between her legs.

  Warner took it from there. With one powerful thrust, his thick crown parted her labia and stretched her wide. She bent her knees so she could push upward, taking him deeper as he slowly surged into her depths.

  “So tight, sweetheart. So warm and silky and wet.” His lips came down on hers as he seated himself to the hilt. He laced his fingers through hers, holding her hands pinned by the sides of her head as he slowly began to move.

  “Warner,” she sighed against his mouth, her eyelids fluttering shut.

  “I’m right here, Karen. Open those pretty eyes, baby. I want you to see who’s fucking you. I want you to know I’m the one making you scream.”

  “I can’t believe you’re really here at last,” she admitted, her eyes locked on his. “I imagined you so many times.”

  “I wasn’t ready for someone like you,” he rumbled. “Someone sweet, and strong, and real. I had a hell of a lot of growing up to do when you knew me before, but I’m a man now, baby. The man who wants to make every one of your fantasies come true.”

  He picked up speed, driving into her with short, sharp thrusts, filling her completely with each one. But she wanted more. She wanted to feel as dark and wild as she had in her dreams. “Harder,” she whispered. “I need more.”

  “More?” He slammed into her even faster. “Oh, baby I can give you more.” He pulled out, making her almost want to cry at the loss.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he growled. Kneeling between her legs, he slid his hands under her ass and lifted her up to his mouth. “I just hadn’t had a chance to taste you yet.”

  Lowering his face to her pussy, he speared his tongue into her slit then dragged it out and around her distended clit. With lips and tongue, he worked her clit while two thick fingers slid up into her slippery channel.

  “Warner!” She’d wanted to come with him inside her, damn it.

  “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to drink down all that cream.” As soon as the words were out, he sucked her clit between his lips, drawing on it hard.

  She couldn’t tell him she’d never had multiple orgasms in her life. She couldn’t speak at all. His fingers curled inside her channel and found a spot she’d only read about, and Karen’s whole world exploded. Lights flashed in front of her eyes and she did scream Warner’s name as her pussy walls clamped down on his hand and her juices filled his mouth. She gripped the sheet in both hands as she rode the rollercoaster, her body spasming over and over while Warner continued to lap at her pussy, occasionally treating her throbbing clit to soft, careful licks.

  Just as she started to breathe again, his tongue picked up speed, tormenting her tender flesh. The roughness of his tongue soon had her passion building again, though, and she couldn’t do much more than lie back on the bed, tossing her head from side to side. “Now, we’ll see how much more you can take,” he muttered thickly. He pulled two pillows from behind her and stacked them in the middle of the bed. “On your knees, with your face on the pillows. Hands beside your head.”

  Karen gulped as anticipation grew. This sounded serious, but it also sounded fun. Obediently, she rolled to her stomach then knelt with her face on the pillows and her butt high in the air.

  Warner didn’t know if he’d ever seen a sexier sight than Karen Sikorski’s pretty, pale ass pointed up at him. He did know he couldn’t resist leaning over and nipping one of those gorgeous cheeks, just hard enough to leave a red mark that would be gone by morning. Fleetingly, he wondered if she liked being spanked, but decided tonight wasn’t the night to try it. Probably wasn’t the right night to fuck that dark pink rosebud, either. Soon, he promised himself. Karen was going to be his, in every way possible. She was the woman he’d unconsciously been waiting for all his adult life. Now that the time was right, he was determined to have her. Looking into her eyes, he’d wondered how he could have overlooked the fact that she was the love of his life.

  He moved up behind her and positioned his aching dick at between her puffy lower lips, then slid steadily home. The hot, tight clasp of her walls made his eyeballs almost roll back in his head. He pushed inside until his groin pressed against her ass, his crown nudged the entrance to her womb and his balls slapped against her mound.

  Fucking heaven.

  “Look up,” he whispered hoarsely. “Look at the mirror.” The dresser ran parallel to the bed, and the big mirror mounted atop it showed a perfect reflection of their bodies. Warner tunneled his hand through her hair, holding her head to the side so she could see as he slowly moved in and out of her welcoming sheath.

  He felt her ripple around his cock as she saw their reflection. “Isn’t that the fucking hottest thing you’ve ever seen?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered as he pulled out, paused then thrust back inside. “You.” Pant. “Are.” Gasp. “Amazing.”

  “No, baby, that’s you,” he said. He let go of her hair to reach beneath her and cup the heavy mounds of her breasts. He squeezed them gently in time to his movements in and out of her heat. “It’s never been this hot for me, Karen. Not with anybody.”

  Her eyes shut and her mouth firmed into a line. Shit, he’d said too much, too soon. He turned away from the mirror to watch Karen herself. She was climbing again, but Warner didn’t know if he could last much longer. He damned sure wasn’t going to leave her hanging, so he brought his right hand down between her legs to fondle her clit. The little nub was so swollen he could feel it poking out of its hood, and Karen moaned as soon as he touched it.

  “Come for me again, baby. I want to feel that sleek little pussy clamping down around my dick,” he said in a ragged voice. “Come to me, Karen, you know you want to.” He pressed down firmly on her clit and slammed himself deep.

  “Yes!” she shrieked as her walls shuddered and clenched around him. Her breathing was nothing but a series of sobs, and she buried her face in the pillow as spasm after spasm racked her body.

  Warner may have yelled something as the seed boiled up out of his balls and shot out in a blast that seemed to take off the top of his head. Pulse after pulse of semen spurted into the condom, drawn by the rhythmic clenching of her snug channel. He leaned over Karen’s back and poured himself into her until he was sure he would be nothing but a dried out husk. Still he didn’t want to stop. His cock continued to twitch, long after he finished.

  “Are we still alive?” she asked a few moments later, after he’d managed to roll them both to their sides. He was still tucked inside her, and amazingly still semi-erect.

  He reached out and smoothed a silky strand of hair off her damp cheek. They were both sweating like racehorses. “I think so. Not sure I could prove it, though.”

  “’Kay.” He felt her body sag then heard a soft snuffle that could have almost been a snore.

  Oh, hell, I put her to sleep. His cock finally softened so he reluctantly slipped out of her warm sheath and slid out of bed. Karen stirred, so he shifted her, laying her the right way on the bed and pulling the covers up over her. Then he ducked into the adjacent bathroom and tossed the condom, before returning to the bedroom to stare down at Karen’s sleeping form.

  Should he leave? He had no doubt she expected him to.

  Warner smiled. His southern grandfather, Kent Warner, had once told his grandson he was as “stubborn as a stripedy-assed mule.” Both of them had known that it wasn’t
an insult. Warner may have been a flake in his youth, but once he decided on something, there was no standing in his way. Sweet little Karen could damn well learn to live with it.

  He was her man. She was his woman. End of story.

  With a shit-eating grin on his face, Warner climbed into the undersized bed, pulled Karen’s lush ass back against his groin, and settled down to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Karen woke feeling warmer than she could ever remember. Since she was almost always cold, that was a real change of pace. Had she forgotten to turn the heat down last night? Wait, it was only October. She hadn’t turned it on, yet. A lifetime of watching every penny had ingrained in her the importance of thrift over comfort.

  So why was she warm?

  “Mmm. Good morning.” Warm lips grazed the back of her neck and Karen’s eyes flew open wide.

  Omigod! It hadn’t been another wet dream. Warner Beckett was really here, naked, in her bed.

  “You’re thinking too much, there, babe.” He nipped her ear playfully and his hand shifted up from her waist to cup her breast.

  Karen could feel herself getting wet as his talented fingers teased her nipple, which was still puffy and tender from the night before. What was Warner doing here? Duh! That was obvious. He was doing her.

  “I don’t even get a good morning, sugar?” His teeth found the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder.

  “G-good morning,” she said. She couldn’t help rubbing her butt back against his rampant erection.

  “It sure is from my point of view.” He suckled lightly on her neck, and she wondered abstractly if he might be leaving a hickey. She’d never had one of those before—good thing she wore turtlenecks a lot in the fall. She could just imagine the ribbing she’d get from her students.

  “If you can think that much while I’m making love to you, I must be doing something wrong.” There was a trace of something in his voice—it couldn’t be disappointment, could it?

  “You’re doing everything right,” she assured him, just in case. “I’m just not awake yet—I keep thinking this is just another dream.”

  “I’m real, sweetheart.” He leaned up over her to snag the last condom off the nightstand then pulled back from her for a minute to slip it on. They’d used the second one somewhere in the middle of the night. No wonder her muscles were aching—in the best possible way.

  Then he was back. He lifted her leg and pulled it back over his, opening her to him. His long fingers tested her wetness, drawing a soft sound of approval from his throat before he slid slowly inside her from behind. He pulled her back against him and trailed his hand up to play with her breasts while he moved in and out of her channel at an unhurried, leisurely pace.

  “You’re just as beautiful in the morning as you were last night,” he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling. “A man could get awfully used to waking up like this.”

  She didn’t protest that she wasn’t beautiful—she didn’t call him on his flattery at all. She was going to enjoy this moment while it lasted, damn it. “I could get used to it too,” she admitted. She clutched at his forearm—the only part of him she could reach—and closed her eyes to focus on the gentle glide of his cock, shuttling in and out of her pussy as if they had all the time in the world.

  Neither of them spoke, and, Warner’s pace gradually increased and he nipped down on her throat again, sending a shockwave of passion skittering down her spine, all the way to her core. His fingers abandoned her breasts, sliding downward to find the taut nub of her clit. He closed two fingers around it, squeezing gently while his cock filled her in strong, rhythmic strokes.

  Her orgasm coiled in her belly as she rocked her hips against his harder and faster. Warner squeezed her clit, held himself deep, and Karen exploded. She let out a wordless cry as her body convulsed, waves of bliss coursing through her, all the way to her scalp, fingers, and toes. Warner followed her over. His guttural shout filled her ear, just as she felt his body clench and he pulsed inside her.

  He snuggled her close dropping kisses on her neck and cheek. “Now it’s an even better morning.”

  Karen didn’t have any complaints. Her body still hummed with satisfaction. “Uh-huh,” she murmured. Turning her head, she managed to reach his upper arm with her lips. “Thanks.”

  “Oh, baby, we’re just getting started,” he said warmly.

  “Warner…”

  “I’ve got a job site to stop in at this morning,” he told her as he finally pulled out of her pussy and rolled away. “But I’ll be back—say two o’clock? I saw a grill out back—I’ll bring over some steaks, if that’s okay.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” She’d had her one night. Better to end it now, before somebody—she—got hurt.

  With no self-consciousness whatsoever, Warner crossed to the bathroom, disposed of the condom, then returned to stand in front of her, his hand gently stroking her hair. “This wasn’t a one-night stand, Karen. Not for me, and I don’t believe it was for you, either. I know we’ve got a ton of talking to do, and yeah, it’s going to take some time to get used to the idea of being in a relationship, but we are in a relationship. I’ll be back between two and three. Okay?”

  “Okay.” What else could she say? Her head was reeling. Relationship? Her? Warner? Where the heck had that come from?

  He pulled on his underwear, jeans, and shirt then sat on the bed by her feet to put on his boots and socks. “I’m going to run back to my apartment and shower, then head over to the site. Call me on my cell phone if you want me to pick up anything at the grocery store on my way back.”

  “I don’t have your number.”

  “Sure you do.” He grinned, leaned over and gave her a loud, smacking kiss. “I left it downstairs by your phone yesterday.”

  After following up with a much more thorough kiss, he stuffed his wallet and phone in his pocket, picked up his keys, and left the room, whistling.

  * * * *

  The scent of violets filled the room, and Karen rolled over in bed. “Aunt Gracie? What are you doing up here?”

  Then she remembered her aunt had been dead for eight months and her eyes flew open. Sure enough, there was Gracie, sitting on the foot of the bed in her favorite purple flowered caftan. The only weird part was being able to see through her aunt to the wall behind her.

  “I’m so happy for you, honey,” Gracie said. “This one is a keeper, for sure.”

  Her aunt knew about Warner? She hadn’t watched, had she?

  Gracie shook her head. “Of course not. I stayed downstairs until he left. But oh, Karen, I couldn’t be prouder. Don’t let him go, sweetheart. You’ve been alone long enough.”

  “It was just one night, Gracie.” Unfortunately.

  “Not if you’re as smart as we both know you are.” Gracie’s insubstantial form leaned over and kissed Karen on the forehead. “Use that brain of yours, girl. Hold on to that man.”

  And then she was gone.

  * * * *

  Karen didn’t make it downstairs until noon. She missed Warner more than she wanted to admit, and her weird dream about Aunt Gracie had her shaking her head. She’d never believed in ghosts, so it had to be a dream.

  Didn’t it?

  She made her way through her shower and breakfast while mentally rebuilding her defenses. It would be so easy to fall in love with that man. She’d already done it once, and even his rejection of her the next day hadn’t really destroyed that adoration. Subconsciously, she’d compared every man she’d met since to her knight in frat boy armor.

  Now he was here, all grown up, and he wanted into her life. What the hell was she supposed to do?

  “To start with, mow the damn lawn,” she told herself grumpily.

  She dragged on her oldest jeans, a T-shirt left over from grad school, and a pair of ratty tennis shoes then pulled her hair up into a ponytail. If Warner wanted to show up at two o’clock, he could damn well cope. Maybe seeing her all grubby and sweaty for t
he second day in a row would get it through his head that she wasn’t in his league.

  Her lawn wasn’t very big, so when Gracie’s gas mower had died, Karen hadn’t bothered to buy a new one. Instead, she wrestled around the old human-powered push mower. It was great exercise and environmentally friendly. Of course, by the time she finished the backyard and started on the front, she was huffing and puffing.

  Just as she finished the last strip between the sidewalk and street, she saw a familiar car pull up to Joe Harris’s house across the street. To Karen’s delight, her friend Becky and two young kids tumbled out, along with Becky’s Aunt Mary. Karen leaned the lawn mower against a big old maple tree and hurried across the street.

  “I can’t believe you’re here so soon,” she cried, hugging Becky tightly. During the reunion a week earlier, Becky had hooked up with Joe, a local mechanic, who’d had a crush on her long before her brief, unpleasant marriage. Now Becky had taken a job here in Heartwood, and she and her kids were moving in with Joe.

  “We’re not here to stay, not this time,” Becky said, stepping back and tucking a strand of her long white-blonde hair behind her ear. “This was just an introductory weekend, to give the kids and Aunt Mary a chance to meet Joe and check out the house.”

  “Looks like they’re getting along fine,” Karen observed a few minutes later after she’d greeted Joe and the kids. They barely remembered her, and happily followed Joe into the back yard when he’d offered to play Frisbee.

  “They really are,” Becky said, blinking back what looked like a tear. “I’m so happy I could burst, but I keep looking over my shoulder, afraid it can’t possibly be real.”

  “I know what you mean.” Karen shivered as she thought of Warner. “You’re sure about this? It is awfully sudden.”

  Becky swallowed hard, but nodded. “I’m scared, but yeah, I’m sure. Joe is the one for me. I’ve never been more convinced of anything in my life.”