Some Like It Geek: A Really Big Set of Romances

by Box Set

  Her fucking mouth. Listening to her talk was its own version of grade-A sex. “Tell me more.”

  Her eyes lit up as she lifted her hands and tangled them in her sex-and-sleep-mussed hair. “I want to ride you until you lose control. Until you turn into my very own bucking bronco.”

  “Won’t take much.”

  “But you’ll fight it, won’t you? Because you’ll try to make it last for me.” She gasped and tipped her head back, and he wasn’t sure how good he could be for her when she was doing her damnedest to get him off before he even got inside her.

  “Leah…” he growled.

  And she laughed. The minx.

  “Fuck me or accept the consequences of writhing on top of me like a goddamn pinup queen.”

  She stopped mid-roll-of-the-hips and blinked down at him. “Too much?”

  Never. He grinned and squeezed her hips, lifting her up enough for his cock to bounce to attention—and smack her in the clit. “Put that monster inside you and let me make you scream.”

  Her eyes sparkled at his choice of words, he hoped, but then her smile slipped a bit as she wrapped her fist around him and fit him against her soft, wet entrance. His breath caught in his throat at the glimpse of raw emotion playing out—or maybe just reflecting off him. Because raw was suddenly how he felt as she sank an inch onto him, enveloping him with tight heat.

  Fuck. “Oh, baby,” he breathed, running his palms down her thighs, then back up again as those muscles worked, lifting her up, then lowering again as she took more of him inside her body.

  Maybe it was the mind-fuck of her admission that she didn’t have intercourse with all her lovers. That wasn’t exactly what she said. But it was how he was interpreting it, because it made this moment more special, and for the first time in a long, long time, Quinn wanted special.

  And he wanted it with Leah.

  As she engulfed him in her slick channel, his eyes unfocused and he gave himself over to the sensation. She buried him to the hilt, and when he thought he couldn’t get any deeper inside her, she flexed her hips and squeezed around him.

  Good didn’t begin to describe it.

  He reached for her breasts, cupping the swollen flesh as she rode him, his thumbs finding her nipples even as he tipped his head back, his eyelids sliding shut. Her body fit his perfectly. Her thighs straddled his hips, her pussy took every last inch of his cock, and her tits overflowed his hands with perfect softness. She was the entire package, and not just physically. Each passing minute he spent with her filled him with an increasingly savage possessiveness.

  Could a woman like Leah ever be his? Could she belong to anyone, let along a man like Quinn, who’d practically made a second profession out of being free as a bird?

  He pushed himself up so he could sit and urged her to wrap her legs around him. The flow of their bodies turned into a rocking grind, clit against pelvic bone, cock against cervix. He thrust into her, holding her hips as she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him, a drugging embrace that made his head spin and his dick pulse.

  “I wanna be on top,” he muttered, and she whimpered and nodded as she kept kissing him. A quick flip and he was pinning her to the mattress. Fuck yes. He snapped his hips into her, then pushed deeper still. All the way inside her.

  He ground out her name as he found her gaze and held it. His last coherent thought was just how fucking pretty she was, all wide-eyed and climbing toward an orgasm, before she arched beneath him, sliding her pussy half off his cock, and his brain short-circuited.

  He slammed back into her, chasing her up the mattress as she dug her heels into his ass, her fingernails into his shoulders, and at some point they reached the bulkhead. Instead of stopping, they both reached up and slammed their hands against the teak paneling. No stopping. Not until she came on his dick and he found his own release deep inside her.

  “So close,” she breathed, grinding up against him from below.

  He reared up on his knees and hitched her hips closer to him so he could surge into her and roll his thumb over her clit at the same time.

  The view of his cock thrusting in and out of her body was the dirty cherry on top. Desire spooled hard and fast deep in his gut as he picked up speed. “Gonna come, gonna fill you up, gonna…” He went harder and faster as she pushed into him, pressing off the wall and arching her back. The boat rocked with them as her body spasmed in climax, milking his own orgasm out of him. With a shout, he buried himself deep and let the crashing wave of pleasure consume him.

  Chapter Seven

  Sex with Quinn.

  Holy crap, what an athletic endeavor that had been. Also, off-the-charts amazing and she already wanted to do it again.

  By the time they got back to the marina, her legs were stiff and she was pretty sure bruises were developing on her hips.

  He helped her tie up the boat, then held her face between his hands and gave her a long, sweet kiss.

  “Thanks for the sail,” he whispered against her ear as they turned and slowly walked up the dock.

  “Thanks for the amazing fuck,” she murmured back before lifting her voice and calling a happy good morning to the marina staff working near the entrance.

  His laugh ricocheted off the water and bounced all around her.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy. She looped her fingers through his and pulled him to a stop when he started to head toward his resort.

  “I need to shower and change,” she said, pressing her hand against his chest. “Can I meet you over there in thirty?”

  “I could help you shower.”

  “You could. But then we might not get to the changing part. Or the waffles, and I really want those.”

  “Fine. But thirty minutes. No longer or I’m coming to find you.”

  She was there in twenty-eight minutes. She was just as eager to find him, she found herself admitting.

  The waffles were good, but Leah already missed the private escape that had been their night together on the sailboat. When Quinn gave her a curious look at her obviously distracted thoughts, she fessed up.

  “Miss the water,” she said softly. “But love the company. And the breakfast.”

  “Do you get to sail much?”

  She shook her head. “I joined a club when I first moved to Tacoma—proximity to the ocean was a big draw for the posting. But I don’t own a boat, so I have to crew with whoever needs someone, and I’m unreliable for races, so it’s sporadic at best.”

  “How long have you been there?”

  “Four years.”

  He lifted the bowl of whipped cream in the middle of the table and offered it to her. “Are you moving soon?”

  Her pulse thudded hard in her neck. She understood the shorthand question. Where was her next posting? But there wasn’t one, and for some reason, she didn’t want to tell him that just yet.

  Except honesty mattered to Quinn. This wasn’t another con hook-up where it didn’t make a difference who or what she was. She pressed her lips together and nodded. “But I’m not sure to where, yet. The future’s a bit up in the air.” She hesitated. “Maybe I’ll sail around the world.”

  He grinned. “Great retirement plan.”

  “Yeah. Or a next year plan.”

  His gaze zeroed in on her face. “What?”

  She gave him a rueful smile and matching little shrug. “I didn’t re-up.”

  Quinn’s head spun as he processed the new and unexpected information. “You’re getting out?”

  Her eyes shifted up and down as she looked at him, taking in his reaction. Which might be why she’d held off on telling him, because he was reacting, all right. He wasn’t even sure why, so he reached across the table and took her hand. Hopefully a gentle squeeze conveyed his support.

  She tipped her head to the side as she slowly explained. “I didn’t get a great offer on my next contract. I was looking at four years of being a glorified admin clerk. So I’m moving on.”

  “But you
’re…” He shook his head. He’d only had one brief workplace interaction with her, but she was so damn smart it hurt to think about her being shunted to the side. “What happened?”

  She shrugged again, this time more stiffly. “Does it matter? It’s done. You know the way of things.”

  He did. And since he was in a separate stream, where career progression wasn’t a roll of the dice, the unfairness of the system was more of an academic notion to him most of the time. “Doesn’t make it right.”

  “Not much I can do about that.” Her words tightened, until the last two practically got clipped in half.

  “No. Of course not.” Shit, he was being a heel. Tears shimmered unshed in her eyes. He softened his voice. “Hey…”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Don’t give me sympathy. I don’t want it.”

  “But you got a shitty raw deal.”

  “Yeah. It happens. And I’ll live. Thrive, even, so it’s fine.”

  “But if it was about something that we did—”

  “Nope. Don’t. For one thing, it’s never because of one thing. So yeah, maybe my blow-up at your team didn’t help when the CO got wind of that. But it wasn’t the first time I’d lost my cool, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. And you know what? That probably just means it was time for me to go, anyway.”

  “I could—”

  “Oh, God no. You can do nothing. Please promise me that. I’m not tilting at windmills or waging a campaign against some injustice, imagined or otherwise. I’m moving forward with my head held high, my tuition paid for and my future bright. And that’s the official story.”

  “It’s a good story.” But it still made his chest hurt. And that was his problem, not hers.

  The day was still young and they had days of exploring each other and the island ahead of them. Anything else could wait. Should wait, really, until at least until after their third date was over.

  She laughed as he felt himself smiling. “What are you grinning about over there now?”

  “This is our third date.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You figure?”

  “I do.” He ticked off on his fingers. “Lunch yesterday. Dinner last night.” He winked. “And now breakfast. This is now officially my longest relationship in the last three years by number of dates.”

  She groaned. “And by hours invested?”

  “Second longest.” He rubbed his jaw. “There was this woman I went on two dates with, but they were a week apart.”

  It was the worst thing to admit to a woman you liked, but it served its purpose. Leah was laughing at him, with him, and her eyes were sparkling again. “I don’t have you beat, by the way.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head. “My last boyfriend was halfway through my last posting. So…six years ago? Five, I guess, and then a year of emotional fallout from that before I got the hell out of there. When I got to Fort Lewis, I told myself that this posting was all about the job, and no more mixing business and pleasure.”

  “He’d been in uniform?”

  “No, but he was local. And he made some trouble for me. Nothing too embarrassing, more stressful than anything else. And not worth it when you know that the job will take you somewhere else.”

  “I know what that’s like.” It was the way of it, often. Of course, guys married sometimes. His SEAL team was about half and half, married and single, and most of the committed couples were ridiculously in love. So he had great role models for that, it just had never been anything that had appealed to him before.

  He sat up a little straighter.

  It didn’t appeal to him. Full stop.

  That was the official party line of Quinn Parry. He was a dark sheep, a maverick, a pervert.

  And that was enough conversing about relationships. He gestured for her to eat up. “I’m feeling a sudden desire to head back to your room and explore more of the ways you like to be in control.”

  As far as diversions went, it was extreme. But it also was the truth. If his heart was growing weirdly soft, it just needed a kinky beating to return to its natural state—hard-bitten, wary as fuck, and hiding behind his up-for-anything dick.

  She didn’t even blink. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Chapter Eight

  “No breath play, no fire…” Leah repeated two of the three hard limits Quinn had told her when he’d first seen her on the beach.

  He peeled off his tank top and tossed it onto the chair in the corner of her room. “That’s pretty much it, yeah.”

  “And the anal play?” She got such a rush out of being bold. It was heady and intense.

  And Quinn played right along. “I tolerate it.”

  “If that’s all, then nobody’s nailed your prostate properly.”

  A little lift of his shoulders made his entire torso flex. She could explore his tattoos for days—and would, probably. But first she wanted to make him wait.

  “That’s all you’ve got?” She clucked her tongue and reached under her dress, deftly untying her bikini bottoms and top. Quinn’s eyes got wide as the bottoms hit the floor, then his throat worked thirstily as she snaked the top out the neck hole of her dress. “Not good enough, Parry. I need to know if I can go there.”

  “You keep stripping and you can go anywhere you want, baby.”

  She rolled her eyes at his drawled promise. Instead of answering, she flicked her hand dismissively at his shorts. She wasn’t getting all the way naked yet, but he should. “Those can go.”

  Quinn in a single word would be eager. He liked to wear steady and calm and dirty as masks, but under them all, he was raring to go, and she loved it. Not that she was going to show him that. Nope. She was going to use his eagerness against him, because she was mean like that—and he’d like it.

  She’d imagined this a dozen different ways, but now that he was standing naked in front of her, she didn’t want him on his knees or tied to her bed. She didn’t want to restrain him or his movements in any way. She just wanted him to make her one little promise.

  Crooking her finger, she summoned the beautiful giant to stand right in front of her. She was dressed, he was not, and when she slid her palm over his already fully-engorged cock, he shuddered.

  “No coming until I tell you to, okay?”

  “You think that highly of my control?”

  She squeezed a little harder. “I think that highly of you.”

  “Then I’ll wait all day if you want me to.”

  The right answer. It made her heart swell. Quinn was perfect in every way. So he wasn’t a bottom. She’d still get to play and test his limits today. But he was giving and agreeable in all the ways that she liked. For all that she was soft to his hard, small to his big, he was still the one who bent to her will—and got turned on doing it.

  She swallowed hard as she fought to keep herself standing. She wanted to drop to her knees and suck him deep into her throat. Taste his arousal on the back of her tongue as he tried in desperation not to spill too quickly.

  Tomorrow they could do that. Tomorrow could be the day of quickies and random blow jobs. Today was…well, she didn’t know what it was exactly. But it wasn’t going to be quick.

  She leaned in and kissed his chest, where dark ink got darker. Like India ink painted over charcoal. “Did you cover up a tattoo here?”

  “Yep. That was a girl’s name. We broke up before it healed. I was eighteen.”

  “Ouch.” Now it was a dark rose. She swirled her tongue around the edges. “Were you broken-hearted?”

  “More annoyed that my attempt to piss off my parents had gone so spectacularly sideways.” He lifted his hands, and she let him graze her with his fingertips—oh, so good, that little brush of sensation—before she shook her head.

  “Arms at your side. Let me explore your beautiful body.”

  “You have a beautiful body. I have a workhorse that’s getting long in the tooth.”

  “No way. You’ve gotta be younger than me.”

 
“I’m thirty-four.”

  She smiled. Not younger than her. “You don’t look it.”

  “And you are?” he teased gruffly as she stroked her hands around his hips to squeeze his butt.

  She bit him on the chest, right below the rose that covered up a girl he’d long forgotten about. “In charge. Turn around.”

  He spun around and she plastered herself against his broad, muscled back. Good Lord he felt good. His ass flexed against her belly and she thought about taking off her dress, but then they’d be fucking in no time flat, and that so wasn’t the plan.

  Slow.

  Teasing.

  Pleasure that would blow his mind.

  That was the plan and she was sticking to it, no matter how good it might feel in the short term to just rub against him like a selfish kitten in heat.

  She planted her hands on his hips and moved him away from her. “There’s a vibrator in my suitcase. Outside pocket, in a pink silk pouch. Fetch it, please.”

  There was nothing quite like watching a six-foot-plus man stretch to the full extent of his height. His back flexed, his neck lifted, and his legs and his and yes, that ass, all clenched as he stiffened in surprise.

  She waited.

  A second passed, then he nodded and strode across the room.

  Quinn could feel Leah’s eyes on his ass. All he had to do was tell her it was off-limits, and she’d find another way to make him submit to her.

  But he’d been around kink long enough to know that hard versus soft limits mattered, and it wasn’t really a hard limit. He leaned over, giving her a decent show, and found the vibrator—thank Christ it was small—exactly where she’d said it would be.

  When he returned, vibrator in hand, his cock stood straight out from his body and swayed with each step. Even if his mind was going, “Whoa, what’s gonna happen?”, his dick didn’t have any qualms.

  She reached for him, one hand on his hip, the other around his erection, and tugged him closer, her hold on him gentle. He came closer, all right. He curved over her and pressed a searing kiss against her mouth before standing tall again.