Set the Night on Fire

by Jennifer Bernard

  “Kind of a personal question, don’t you think?” He couldn’t tell for sure in the dark, but her voice sure sounded like she was blushing.

  “Hey, I’m just trying to do my job. You hand-picked me for this mission, remember? Mission Reclaim your Sexual Side? I’m pretty sure this is essential background information. And besides, remember how good I am at keeping secrets?”

  “Right. Okay. Well, then. As you can probably guess, the answer is zero. I’ve been having my orgasms without a man.”

  “Ouch. I guess we are sort of nonessential, if you think about it.” He ran his thumb across the tender skin of her wrist.

  “I admit, I thought that for a long time,” she said softly. “I know how to make myself feel good. And I do. But when we kissed that time at the hotshot base, and then when we made out…well, I realized that I’ve been cheating myself. I was afraid of being scorned and shamed if I did that with a man.”

  “But Evie, sweet girl, we like it when you come. I mean ‘you’ as in ‘women,’ and by ‘we’ I mean normal men. Not sick, manipulative bastard men. Ask any normal guy on the street how it feels to make a woman come apart in his arms, or orgasm against his tongue, or shatter when he fingers her, or drives his cock into her, and you know what he’ll say?”

  Her pulse was skipping in a crazy rhythm, her breath coming fast. “What?”

  “He’ll say it makes him feel like Superman. Like a hero. There’s no better feeling in the world. Although my own orgasms come close,” he admitted.

  She giggled, a light and carefree sound. He took that as a good sign, that maybe her confession was helping her.

  “You gave that bastard the biggest gift, and he threw it back in your face and made you feel like shit about yourself. And then you protected him.”

  “No.” She shook her head fiercely. “I wasn’t protecting him. I was protecting myself and my parents. I mean, there was no evidence of anything. He didn’t hurt me physically. If I’d told my parents, nothing good would have come of it. There would have been drama and conflict and everything they don’t like. I wasn’t even sure I had the words to tell them. They would have understood something like ‘he attacked me’ or ‘he raped me.’ But ‘he made me come with his hand then insulted me and tried to force me to give him a blow job’? I didn’t understand it myself. I didn’t understand how I could be so…different from them.”

  He thought about how she must have felt, so alone and confused and humiliated. “What about your friend, the girl with the freckles?”

  “Brianna.”

  “Did you tell her?”

  “Sean, you’re not listening to me. Other than what I told my aunt, I never told a single person the whole story. Until now.”

  The importance of this moment felt as vast as the Pacific Ocean below them. “I’m honored,” he said softly. “So tell me this. How does it feel now that you’ve told someone?”

  “Weird,” she admitted. “I feel nervous. I’m not sure what you think of me now.”

  “What do I think of you? I think you’re beautiful and passionate and kind and exactly the same person you were before. If you want to know what I think of Brad, well, I guess you probably know that by now.”

  “Passionate. Is that a code word for slut?”

  “Fuck.” He pushed himself up into a sitting position. “No, of course it isn’t.” He remembered that moment between them at the airstrip, when he’d put her hand on his erection. “That’s why you got so upset when I told you that you turned me on. You thought it was some kind of insult?”

  She nodded reluctantly. “I know it doesn’t necessarily make sense. But I’ve been so terrified of showing any kind of sexual…anything…since then. The funny thing is, after it happened, I went to the library and found a book about sex. I used to read it in little snatches when the librarians weren’t looking. I figured out that I wasn’t some abnormal freak for having an orgasm like that. I’m not uneducated or clueless. I get that it’s normal. I do. But I just couldn’t forget the look on Brad’s face and those horrible words.”

  “I get it. It’s hard to trust anyone after that.” He was dying to touch her, to take her into his arms and wipe away the memory of that dickhead, but he didn’t know if she would welcome that.

  “Yes. Especially here in Jupiter Point. Everyone knows Brad, and I didn’t know what he’d said to whom. I was afraid to get intimate with anyone. I figured I’d just bide my time until college then leave. Maybe start somewhere new with a clean slate. I really think I would have broken free by now if I’d left. But then my mother got diagnosed with Parkinson’s and I couldn’t bring myself to leave my parents on their own. So I just put on the blinders and pretended that Brad was just any other guy I’d grown up with. So…” She gave a jaunty little laugh, as if all of this was the biggest joke in the world. “There you have it. My entire sexual history. Oh wait, I left out the time I lost my virginity.”

  “To a gay man. I remember that much.”

  “Yes, he was one of my best friends. He used to work at the gallery with me. One night we decided that since we were such good friends, and we were both single, that we should try having sex. I trusted him because he didn’t grow up here and didn’t even know Brad. And that was all fine except for one little problem. It took him an hour to get an erection and about a second to lose it after he’d penetrated me. The next day he came to see me and said he finally understood that he was gay. And that brings us up to the present. Pretty pathetic, isn’t it?”

  “Hey.” He gave her a little swat on the rear. “No putting yourself down or I’ll have to spank you.”

  “Is this the bossy side you warned me about?”

  “No, you haven’t seen my bossy side yet.” He bared his teeth at her. “But if you keep that up, you will.”

  She made a saucy face at him. Attitude. That’s what he wanted to see. If she could keep that “screw Brad” attitude, she’d be fine.

  “You left out a few bits, by the way,” he said. “Like what made you decide to kiss me.”

  She smiled. “Maybe I’m just a nympho slut.”

  “Evie McGraw, did you really just make a joke out of this?” He gripped her slim shoulders and grinned so wide his face hurt. “If you can joke about it, you’re halfway cured.”

  “Oh my God, you’re right. I did make a joke.” Her eyes lit with triumph. “Take that, Brad White.”

  “Hell yeah.” He offered his hand for a high-five.

  Still smiling, she tugged at his shirt until he ripped it off his own body. He loved the way her eyes went wide at the sight of his bare torso. She gave him a gentle push and urged him onto his back. He lay there, arms spread wide, as she straddled his hips.

  “I bet I can guess the other half of the cure,” she teased.

  “Are you sure, Evie? I don’t want to do anything that’s going to upset you.”

  She reached behind her head, undid the clip fastening her knot, and shook out the waterfall of dark silk. “It won’t upset me. I’m tired of holding back because of that one stupid time.”

  He let his fingers play across the skin of her thighs, just above her knees. When he heard her soft sigh, he explored higher, savoring the texture of her inner thighs, smooth as cream. She parted her legs farther as he reached her panties. He felt the heat already radiating from her core. Glancing up, he saw her lips part, her lovely features painted with gentle starlight.

  She nestled her rear against the hardening rod between his legs. He gritted his teeth against the sweet torture.

  “I intend to make you come,” he told her. “And I intend to enjoy every damn second of it. So if you have any hesitation about that, tell me now. No, scratch that. You can tell me at any point; it’s okay. Whatever comes out of your mouth is fine. ‘No’ is fine. ‘Harder’ is fine. ‘Sean, you’re a fucking sex god’ is fine. All of that works for me. Whatever comes into your head, just let it out.”

  Evie laughed down at him. “Why shouldn’t I? That’s what you do, rig
ht?”

  “Exactly.” He reached the edge of her underwear and swept aside the material to unveil her secret intimate folds. Already damp. Her clit already swollen and pouting from its delicate nest of hair. He brushed his thumb across it experimentally. She trembled and her thighs tightened around him.

  “You feel so good, sweetheart. I love how your clit presses against my thumb, so thick and hot,” he murmured. “Can you feel how hard I am right now?”

  She wiggled from side to side, so her delicious, hot weight slid across his cock.

  “And…now I’m even harder,” he told her. “Thanks a lot.”

  She laughed. “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m going to make you pay for that. In orgasms.” He slid his finger along her wet slit. She was so juicy and primed, her intimate tissues so unbelievably soft. When he reached her clit again, he increased the pressure just slightly, all his senses tuned to her reaction. Her sounds, her squirms, her sighs. “That’s all I want, sweetheart. I want you to feel good. I want you to come apart for me.”

  “That feels amazing, Sean.” Her head tilted back. The wind flirted with the long strands of hair around her face. The pale, muscular stretch of her throat made him long for the day she would open for his cock. But not yet. Right now, he had only one job to do.

  Make her come, and make her feel good about it.

  18

  Every time Sean pressed her clit, Evie felt as if shooting stars were dancing through her body. She should feel awkward, but she didn’t. Something about Sean’s straightforward way of talking about sex made it impossible to feel embarrassed. She knew he was right there with her because he kept saying so. Every word he spoke was about how much he wanted her, how beautiful and desirable she was, how sexy. None of it made her feel self-conscious. The opposite. It made her feel free and wild and happy.

  The heat of his erection filtered through his pants. She ground against it in the same rhythm he used on her clit, and oh my God, it felt amazing, so, so much better than how it felt when she used her own hand on herself. She rocked her hips forward and back, chasing the sensation hovering just out of reach.

  Her breasts ached to be touched. She could do that. She could take off her top and touch herself, or lean forward for Sean to lick her nipples. But that would be wrong—kind of porny and slutty.

  No. No more fear.

  With a quick movement, she pulled off her top and unsnapped her bra. Her breasts spilled into the cool air, nipples hardening instantly. She took them between her fingers and pinched lightly. An immediate jolt of pleasure shot to her sex.

  “Oh yeah,” said Sean, with nothing but deep, gravelly, male approval in his voice. “That is fucking hot, babe.”

  And that sent another swift clutch of heat to her belly. There was no need to hide anything from Sean because he liked it all.

  She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She felt as if starlight was raining down on her. Freedom whispered to her in the wind, with its edge of chill from the ocean. Wildness sang to her in the slow grind of Sean’s hips, the pulse of electricity between her legs. It built and built, higher and hotter, an urgent drumbeat demanding its due…and then it burst into an explosion of sensation. Spasms of pleasure rippled through her, again and again. Every time they started to slow, Sean would change the angle of his thumb, press harder, or different, or something.

  Nothing existed except the bliss pouring through her body. She reveled in it like a cat rolling in catnip, as if nothing mattered beyond the next second, the next blissful jolt.

  A cry was echoing in the air, a low, erotic sound that she’d never heard before. As the convulsions of her orgasm slowed, she became aware of the awkward sound.

  It was coming from her!

  She snapped her mouth shut. Oh geez…so embarrassing. Who made sounds like that during sex? It didn’t sound like any of the pornos she’d ever happened to catch on late-night cable. It sounded raw, sort of like a wounded cat.

  What would Sean think now?

  Cringing, she glanced his way. In the night, with her own body blocking the starlight, she couldn’t read his expression. “Sorry,” she gasped. “I don’t know where that came from, that sound.”

  He sat up, shifting her so they could face each other comfortably. He looped his arms loosely around her back. “Evie, normally I wouldn’t mention this fact at this particular moment, but remember how I said I married a stripper? Sex sounds don’t bug me. I love ’em.”

  She bit her lip dubiously. Even though her lower body still vibrated from her climax, and her limbs felt boneless, her worry was casting a shadow over the whole experience.

  “When people come, they make all sorts of weird noises. Mandy told me I sound like a hog during sex.”

  “A hog? Like how?”

  “I don’t know, like a grunting sort of…I don’t know, I’m not sure I can recreate it. I think you might have to find out firsthand.” He flashed a gleam of a smile. “If you want. When you’re ready.”

  She saw what he was doing—making sure she knew the choice was hers. But honestly, everything about this encounter was so different from the time with Brad. With Brad, the brief pleasure had brought shame and humiliation, then fear. She searched her heart for any hint of those emotions, and didn’t find a single bit of any of them.

  Should she take her chances and find out if going all the way would provide another huge, monumental contrast with that other horrible time?

  “You probably want to be satisfied too,” she whispered. “It’s not fair if it’s just me.”

  “Look, sweetheart. I’m not going to lie. This wild thing between my legs is raring to go.”

  A crazy thrill shot through her. Wild thing. She loved those words. Her body loved those words. The secret part of her that had been asleep at the wheel loved those words.

  “But, you know, he and I have a good relationship. We’ll figure something out.” He ran his hands up and down her back. The size and strength of his hands never ceased to amaze her—or their gentleness. “The important thing right now is you. How are you feeling?”

  “Amazing,” she said, after a quick check to make sure that was still the case. “That was amazing.”

  “Good. That’s all I want to hear.” He brushed her hair behind her back and combed his fingers through it. The soothing sensation made her eyes half close. The breeze cooled the sweat on her body. In another minute she’d be chilled, but for now, it was perfect.

  “So…you’d be okay if we never had actual sex?”

  “I might have the biggest case of blue balls on the planet, but yeah, I’d be okay. It’s not like we’re…well, you know. It’s not a relationship. I don’t expect anything.”

  She feathered her fingers across his chest. Hot skin, firm muscles. All man. Straight up, honest, grown-up man. He was right, this wasn’t a relationship. It was a “mission”—one she’d requested of him. That was part of their agreement and that was totally okay with her. Right? Wasn’t it?

  “Hey,” he said gently. “What just happened?”

  She shook off her melancholy. You made this bed, now lie in it. “Sorry, I was just thinking. We’re doing this because I asked you to help me find my sexual side again.”

  He skimmed his hand across her mound, making her breath hitch. “I think we’ve accomplished that, unless you have unbelievable orgasm-faking skills.”

  She flicked his arm in revenge for that comment. “That’s one thing about satisfying yourself, you don’t have to worry about faking it.”

  “True that.” He laughed, the deep rumbling sound touching a chord deep inside her. Sean’s voice had a way of arousing her all on its own.

  “Anyway,” she continued. “It seems to me that finding my sexual side ought to include the actual act of sex. You know, penetration.”

  She felt his erection jump against her thigh. “Keep talking,” he said in a strained voice. He stroked her upper thighs under her skirt. Her skin rippled—was it more sensitive than
before? It seemed so.

  “Um…what about?” Hadn’t she just said what she wanted to say?

  “You had me at ‘penetration.’”

  “Right. As I was saying, I’m pretty sure my sexual reclamation project will not be complete without it.”

  The phrase “sexual reclamation” also inspired a reaction from his male parts. She drew her finger across the bulge in his jeans. “Does that always happen?”

  “Do you mean does my cock respond to words that sound sexy? Yes. It also responds to stuff like the look you’re giving it right now. And the fact that every time you shift your thigh just the tiniest bit, you pull my jeans against it. There’s a seriously good chance that I’m going to come before we even get close to penetration.”

  “Really?” She was so fascinated by how freely he talked about sex and everything associated with it. “That would be uncomfortable, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes. But also kind of a relief.” He moved his hands back up her thighs, thumbs gliding along the most sensitive inner skin. When he reached the vee between her legs, she yearned for him to touch her more intimately, but instead he veered the other direction, back down the outside of her thighs. A low thrum of need vibrated through her nervous system.

  “You could…I don’t know…maybe bring it out. And I could stroke it. Even if we don’t do anything else, that would feel good, right?”

  “Fuck yes, that would feel good. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I’m a big boy, Evie. I chose to be here with you, knowing what you’re dealing with. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I know that.” And she did, she truly, truly did. The fact was—“I want you,” she admitted. “I want to see what it feels like when you’re inside me. I don’t think it will hurt. It didn’t hurt the last time, with Pete. It just felt strange.”

  “Good strange?”

  “Not really. Just strange.”

  “You know, I might be a little cocky here, but I bet I can beat ‘strange.’”

  “I bet you can too.” Something was expanding inside her, a wild, free, warm feeling. The night air, the vibrant stars, the fresh scent of scrub grass, Sean’s muscular body and slightly pained grin— it all intoxicated her more than the spiked hot chocolate. For the first time in so long, the future felt bright and wild and full of possibility.