Full Throttle Yearning

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Full Throttle Yearning Page 6

by Lynn, Aurora Rose


  Unable to help herself, Roxie pulled herself to one side, leaned up on one elbow, and stared. The breath caught in her throat and refused to release. Charlie was every bit a man. His chest was lightly matted with fine, dark hair and his whole body was tanned. His abs were hard angles and planes. His waist was small and his rigid cock was the largest she’d ever seen. She’d suspected as much when she’d ground her hand against him earlier, but now she had tantalizing visual proof.

  Quickly, before he could stop her, she pulled off her pants, revelling in the appreciation she saw in his gaze. Impossibly, his penis became wider and larger right before her eyes. That’s all for me, she thought in wonder.

  “I want to slide my cock into your wet pussy,” he murmured, kneeling beside her. The mattress sagged to accommodate his weight and his musky scent wafted around her, drawing her into his sexual web. Idly, his index finger traced a circle on the outside of her upper thigh, tickling then mesmerizing her. He could do anything he wanted and she would be his… But it can only be for this one night, she reminded herself.

  Honeyed juice trickled down between her legs. “I want that too.” Her invitation was like the wind whispering through new, early summer leaves. Keeping her eyes on his face, she scissored her legs apart and edged her finger to the wet pearl that must surely be glistening in the low light from the lamp. Her thighs trembled.

  His hand clamped over her wrist so quickly that she hardly believed anyone could be so swift. “No,” he ground out. “Let me do that.” With gentle firmness, he settled her hand at her side. His gray eyes sparkled.

  Feminine pleasure shot through Roxie again. She never would have guessed that morning that she’d be lying naked in a virile man’s bed that night.

  He spread her legs wider, knelt between her legs and gazed for a long while between her thighs.

  “What do you see?” she asked in a husky whisper, curious to know how he perceived her.

  “I see a beautiful woman, her silken thighs wide apart to show off her clit and the pink folds of her labia. There is a point of moisture catching the light, beckoning to me.”

  So he knew a great deal about women, Roxie told herself, not embarrassed in the least. She was in capable and practiced hands for the night. Which turned her on. Reaching out, she touched his upper arm and the hard muscles there.

  “Roxie, you drive me crazy,” was all he said, as if he were being tortured senseless. His thumb idled along her skin at the juncture of her upper thigh and her mons. She shivered as heat seared through her, and her muscles tensed in heightened anticipation.

  His arm muscles rippled as he slid into a prone position, his head between her legs. She stared up at the ceiling and waited for his tongue to dart into her pussy. The ceiling must be nine feet high. Charlie slipped a finger past her wet clit and into her weeping vagina. Roxie nearly shot off the bed, restraining herself by grabbing fistfuls of the sheet.

  “Charlie!” she wailed, desperately searching for something to berate him with.

  “Yes, my dear?” he asked, much too sweetly for her liking. He had the upper hand and he knew it.

  “We should have gone into the mountains,” she muttered, keeping her voice low.

  “To make love under the night sky, under the twinkling canopy of stars? Do you think I would be doing things differently?” His self-assurance mocked her. Then another finger slid into her channel. “I might be too big for you,” he said softly, his gray gaze assessing her.

  “I thought you’d lick my clit,” she protested, not caring whether his penis was big or small.

  “I’ll get to that, but for now I’m admiring your juices flowing from your cunt as I squeeze my fingers inside your channel.”

  She sighed with rising need. “I love it when you talk dirty.” Roxie attempted to shift from one hip to the other to encourage Charlie to plunge his cock into her, but the movement didn’t work.

  He clamped his hand onto her left thigh and stilled her. “Be patient, Roxie. I’ll get inside you when I think you’re ready.”

  The patronizing attitude angered her. “For Pete’s sake, who would know better whether I’m ready, you or I?” she asked in frustration. She twisted her head from one side to the other and finally closed her eyes, willing herself to relax, to take things as they came. Charlie meant well, didn’t he? And his erection was rather huge.

  “Trust me on this, Roxie. If I knew without a doubt you were ready, then I’d take you.”

  Somehow, his voice was soothing and reassuring. Despite herself, Roxie calmed. His digits slipped out, one by one, then the moment she’d waited for arrived. She cried out as his tongue rasped against her hot clit. Her muscles clenched quickly and an orgasm tore through her. Her eyes shut tight. Stars of different magnitudes spun around in her head, yet Charlie continued to lave her clit with sure, firm strokes.

  “No more,” she cried out, attempting to stop him, but he must have turned a deaf ear. His tongue went on with its ravaging madness. Her hips bucked and her spine bowed but he held tenaciously on, nipping at her pearl to heighten her pleasure.

  Another orgasm rent through her, shattering what little equilibrium she had. She thought she heard ocean waves but they were much too far away. Perhaps they were in her head as a result of the intensity of her climax.

  “Are you okay?” Charlie asked solicitously.

  Thank goodness you’ve stopped eating my clit…but I want more! Dazed, she nodded, and with great effort blinked her eyes open.

  Charlie loomed above her, his gaze laced with concern. He inclined his head as if reassuring himself, then said, “Now you’re ready.”

  Now she was ready? It’s all about control.

  The thought evaporated into thin air as quickly as it had come. Charlie scooted up, trailing burning kisses from her navel to between her breasts. Her skin tingled with awareness. Was Charlie setting fire to every cell in her body? He pressed his hard erection against her wet channel and gave a low groan.

  When he hefted himself above her with his elbows to either side of her, his ravenous gaze met hers. Roxie reached up and ran her fingertip along his lower lip. His tongue darted out and licked the appendage before he took her finger into his mouth and sucked on it.

  “Don’t,” she murmured, focusing her gaze on him.

  Dancing gray eyes stared back at her, giving her the impression that he was imprinting her face on his memory. He released her finger. Cool air enveloped the soft skin of the pad. “Don’t what?”

  She pretended to shift under him, although his weight was fully on his elbows. “I—” Did she know what she wanted?

  “You want me to stop turning you on even more and start thrusting inside you?” His lips curved in a small smile of amusement.

  “Yes, that’s it.” Her mind must have become addled by his nearness, by the strength of his beautiful, naked body.

  “Your wish is my command,” he responded lightly, reaching between them. His cool fingers parted her entrance, and slowly he began to ease into her slick passage.

  Inch by inch, his big cock slipped into her, filling her so completely that she had to suck in a breath.

  Charlie abruptly stopped. “Are you okay, Roxie?”

  Her fake name on his lips sounded foreign and harsh. She resisted the strong urge to turn away, to murmur her real name, but forced herself to lick her lips instead to steady herself. “Yes,” she managed on an exhalation. She didn’t know whether he would take her affirmation at face value.

  He frowned. “Roxie, if I’m hurting you then I need to stop. I’m not the kind of guy to force a woman.”

  “I know that.” She dredged up a grin.

  Unmoving, Charlie looked away, his features set in melancholy lines. Was he fighting something bad from his past? After all, wealth and luxury didn’t always bring happiness.

  When his gaze returned to her, he said, “Why don’t we do a sixty-nine? Then both of us are in control.”

  Roxie couldn’t help herself. Her eyes alm
ost bulged out of her head. “No. I want you, just like this.” She clenched her vaginal muscles playfully around his cock to physically reiterate her message.

  The sadness in his gray gaze dissipated and his lips curved in a smile even as tiny crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. She was relieved he’d relaxed.

  “I’m so wound up,” he told her, beginning to thrust deeply into her again.

  Her eyes widened again in question.

  “I’m with this beautiful woman and I’m scared as hell of making a mistake with her.”

  Roxie placed her arms around his neck and drew his face closer to her own. “I don’t think you can make a mistake when it comes to me,” she murmured, pulling his head lower and pressing her lips against his. Some of his weight transferred to her, erotically squeezing her aching breasts. She shimmied under him and an inexplicable joy bubbled through her. Wasn’t she free? When she’d made love to Charlie she could simply leave, without regret.

  Her spine rocked with his thrusting in and out of her pussy. She gave him a flirty smile and etched a fingertip along his right brow. The hair was so fine, so soft. Then she traced the contour of the bridge of his nose, and her whole body seemed to become a live wire of raw emotion.

  Charlie’s face had scrunched up in a way that mirrored his intense concentration. Roxie shut her eyes and all the sounds and sensations around her were magnified. The little grunts of exertion from above her. The blood roaring through her veins. Her muscles tensing in anticipation and Charlie’s cock plunging in and out of her channel. She contracted her vaginal muscles and gripped him in a tight hold. His breathing was raspy and hoarse. He was about to climax. If she held on for just one more second, they’d explode together.

  Charlie’s strokes were shorter. He was riding his own wave of happiness. With bated breath, she waited, but her self-control disappeared in the face of the pure pleasure of climax. A long, guttural groan, then the world fell away, replaced by sheer, tumultuous sensation. Rock faces split apart, the sky became blood red and grass was bluer than the water in a clear lake. Then, except for the pounding of Charlie’s heart intermingling with that of her own, there was silence.

  Chapter Four

  Charlie’s orgasm had been the most sustained and the most spectacular of his life. And he wanted another with Roxie. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks flushed a bright pink. Her eyelashes fluttered like tiny, dark wings. Had the sex been as good for her as it had been for him? He certainly hoped so. If she stayed with him—

  That will never happen, he thought morosely. Lifting his head onto one elbow, he brushed wild strands of hair from her face.

  “Hmm?”

  He laughed softly at her drowsy response. “I was thinking I’d like you to stay all night.”

  Her eyes flashed open. Was there a hint of alarm in the depths of her blue gaze? Swiftly, her expression changed to one of regret. “I can’t. I’m on the early shift tomorrow.” She took a peek at her watch. The leather strap was fairly new, he noted, and the face was surrounded by small zircons—imitation diamonds. “It’s almost midnight. I’ve got to go.” She pushed away and sat on the edge of the bed.

  Her long hair falling down her naked back was tousled and far too sexy for comfort. Should he try to stop her? Should he pull her down and make love to her again despite her protests that she had to leave? Her sweet, feminine scent filled his nostrils and his head began to spin. The fragrance was making it difficult for him to think, but he had to protect her from danger, from Rowter, from the motorcycle gang that was coming—

  No.

  He fell back on the bed and covered his eyes with his forearm. How could he have confused Roxie, almost a complete stranger, with his long-gone mother? Discomfort straddled the middle of his stomach. Had he conjured the need to safeguard her because of what had happened to his mother? In all the time he’d been at the bus stop he hadn’t seen one sign of anyone who might pose a threat to her. But then why had she escaped out of the diner’s back door? What was going on?

  Quickly, before Roxie could glance over her shoulder and witness his moment of weakness, he caught her around the waist and pulled her down. “Make love to me again, Roxie. I need you.”

  He was telling the truth. And afterwards he could figure out whether she really needed protection or whether he’d imagined that she did.

  Despite herself, Roxie leaned back into Charlie. The room smelled of sex, of their natural body scents mingling, a heady fragrance. She’d heard the hard edge of pleading in his voice, but she had to get away. If she didn’t, she was very likely to want sex with him again, then her composure—what little she had in his presence—would evaporate. He was part of the world from which she’d fled, and she had no desire to return. He was all the things that were wrong with being wealthy, with being one of the elite. And if he knew everything, including when she was ready for his cock fitting inside her, then what else didn’t he know?

  She wanted Charles Vernon with a passion bordering on obsession, but if she didn’t leave now, she might as well go back to her father.

  She made the mistake of glancing over her shoulder at him, at his magnificently muscled body, at the rock-hard cock extended toward her so invitingly and temptingly. Heaving a deep sigh of regret, she barely jerked free of his tenacious hold and jumped to her feet.

  “No, Charlie,” she snapped. “I’ve got to go.” She bent and retrieved her panties and tugged them up her ankles and her thighs. Then the pants, all as she avoided looking straight at him.

  Languidly, he swung his feet over the side of the bed. “What can I say to make you stay?” His voice was hoarse with longing.

  Her nipples betrayed her and budded into tight, painful peaks. She decided to try a ploy from the rare soap opera she’d seen. “Listen,” she said, drawing on her jacket. “Your world and mine don’t mix. Rich boys take poor girls and use them. The end.” She ran out of the room and down the stairs, feeling like Cinderella missing a glass slipper. When she reached her motorbike under the star-encrusted night sky, she breathed a heavy sigh of utter relief.

  From the bedroom window, Charlie watched as Roxie started the bike and it roared to life, breaking the night’s silence. She pumped the gas several times before she finally raced off into the darkness. The noise gradually decreased until there was nothing but the chirping of crickets to be heard.

  Raw emotion churned in his gut. He turned around and surveyed the bed on which he’d recently found comfort and joy. That whole speech about a rich boy and a poor girl had sounded awfully contrived. He’d heard enough lies in court to know, which once more confirmed his rising suspicion that Roxie was hiding something she didn’t want him to understand. This time he would act on his doubts, just as he would if a client had ordered him to leave no stone unturned. He lifted his cell phone and hit speed dial five, his friend the private eye, whom he trusted the most to keep a secret.

  Off the freeway, in a well-lit parking lot, Roxie zoomed in alongside a new model pickup truck. She felt as if she were choking. How could she have left Charlie, saying what she had, after the best sex ever? He was one in a million, and of course she wanted more of him, but she’d left his world behind and she wasn’t sure he’d fit in to the one she’d made for herself.

  She restarted the bike and headed for home. LA was a city that never slept, and even at midnight there was plenty of traffic on the freeway with her. Thankfully, it wasn’t crawling along in lanes that were bumper to bumper. Still, the drive took longer than she’d expected. She had plenty of time to think.

  In her apartment, she sipped a refreshingly cold orange juice and leaned her hip against the counter. Next door, the neighbors were having a raucous party, but she shut out the sounds of laughter, shouts and crashes.

  She had been attracted to Charlie from the first second she’d seen him. He seemed genuinely concerned about her welfare…and that struck her as odd coming from a man who maintained the lifestyle he did. She had to hit upon a new job so he wou
ldn’t be able to find her.

  Why hadn’t he called her on the fact that she’d pretty much stolen his parking space earlier? Had the sex been so important to him?

  Face it, Elizabeth Audrey Harrier. The sex was important to you too. You wouldn’t have gone out of your way to make the trip to Malibu if it hadn’t been. In the morning, you need to find a new job so Charlie can’t trace you.

  The tall glass slipped in her hand and hit the sink with a loud crash. She hurried to clean up the mess, running water from the faucet.

  I don’t know how I’ll tell Gerry. He’s been so kind to me, hiring me on right away, but I have to leave, even the notion isn’t sitting well with me. Charlie’s rich, he has the resources to find me if he wants. Just like Father—and why hasn’t he found me?

  The question troubled Roxie. Her father, like Charlie, had every resource one could think of at his command. Then why not find the recalcitrant daughter? What part of the puzzle was she missing? She was intelligent, educated at an Ivy League school, yet she couldn’t figure out why her father did what he did. She laughed a little at that. Men were, quite probably, the greatest enigma ever.

  The neighbors pounded several times on the wall adjoining the kitchen. Or was it the neighbors? Trepidation ran up and down her spine as she remembered the feeling of being watched earlier. Why hadn’t she felt those ominous eyes at Charlie’s as they made love?

  She sighed and settled onto the cot with its light throw. Had Charlie been serious about doing a sixty-nine? She’d heard about it but never tried it. If he asked her again she’d go for it. But he wouldn’t find her.

  Then again, she owed Gerry two weeks’ notice. Wouldn’t he raise his eyebrows at her decision to leave so soon?

  As for Charlie, she’d have to handle him when he came in to the diner.

  If he did.

  Charlie waited in the alley behind Woody’s Diner. He’d quit smoking years ago, but this morning he’d bought a pack at a convenience store, then promptly thrown them away. Instead, he’d opted to suck on a strawberry crème candy he’d found in his glove compartment. His nerves were on edge and every muscle in his body was prepared to jump into action. He’d seen the sun rise in muted purple transmuting into vivid oranges, but he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that he wasn’t doing enough for Roxie—or, as he’d discovered, Elizabeth Audrey Harrier.

 

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