Sex, Lies and Dirty Secrets

by Jamie Sobrato

  Um, right.

  “I guess you’re right. I just never imagined acting on our attraction, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. I’ve spent lots of time imagining it.”

  He had?

  Well, truthfully, so had she, but no way was she going to admit it. Instead, she flashed a smile. “Fantasies are one thing. Acting them out can have unintended consequences.”

  They reached her room, and before she could find her security card, he had her wedged against the door, his mouth inches from hers. This was one time when his aggressiveness was much appreciated. Even if she wasn’t supposed to be appreciating it, she couldn’t help herself.

  “Tonight,” he said, their lips nearly touching now. “I say, forget the consequences.”

  Macy’s insides melted. She was a silly fool. A girl who’d been deprived of so much handsome jock attention that she didn’t know how to handle it now that she could get it.

  But the consequences were exactly why she was doing this, right? Let him forget them, but she had to keep them in the forefront of her mind all night.

  And as long as she could do that, she’d be okay. She tilted her chin, and their lips met. She’d meant it to be a soft kiss, but there didn’t seem to be any slow setting on their attraction. Suddenly they were locked in a kiss that was all searching tongues and throaty moans, all grinding hips and wandering hands.

  It was nice to be this wanted. It really was.

  Stupid. Stupid thoughts again. Macy somehow untangled herself from Griffin long enough to find her card, unlock the door and step into the foyer. But they didn’t make it very far.

  The door slammed shut, and inside the room, a nightstand lamp was on, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow. Perfect lighting for sex. Not harsh enough to highlight many flaws, but just enough light to enhance the show.

  Somehow the bed seemed too far away. Macy dropped her purse, Griffin dropped dessert again, and she couldn’t reconstruct in her head how they ended up on the foyer floor. She was pretty sure she’d fallen down, but then Griffin was pushing her dress strap off her shoulder and licking her nipple and she really couldn’t manage to give a damn how they’d gotten there or whether they’d ever leave it.

  Now he had both breasts exposed, and Macy arched her back, pressing herself toward him as delicious tension built up inside her. She heard herself moaning; her fingers were tangled in his hair, and she had no idea where all this crazy desire had come from. When his fingers made their way to her panties again, she thought she might cry.

  To have all this pleasure and not be able to take it to its natural conclusion—it wasn’t going to be easy.

  He pushed her panties down, plunged his fingers into her, massaged and coaxed her toward the one place she wasn’t supposed to go.

  Maybe she could spare a few IQ points…

  Just a couple of little ones…

  Like the ones she used for remembering useless dates or names of people she no longer knew.

  Her dress was bunched around her waist now, and Griffin was exploring lower and lower with his tongue. This was where she was supposed to turn the tables, distract him, something.

  She definitely shouldn’t have let him go where he was going. But, oh, she just wanted to feel his tongue there for a second, for a minute…

  Five minutes max.

  And then she’d definitely put a stop to it.

  Abso-freaking-lutely.

  His tongue flicked against her clit, and she sighed. He began sucking and probing and working all sorts of magic, and then Macy was making some crazy gasping sounds, as if she’d just run a marathon or something. She spread her legs wide, lifted herself to his mouth, ground against him. Wanted more of him.

  Thank goodness there was finally a conviction she could get behind.

  “I want you inside me,” she said.

  But he didn’t stop.

  “Please,” she begged, tugging at his hair a tiny bit and attempting to wriggle away.

  He held her hips still, and Macy wasn’t quite as behind her newfound conviction as she intended to be. She collapsed on the floor and closed her eyes, swept away by the delicious rhythm of his tongue.

  But she was getting perilously close to having an orgasm. She could feel the delicious tension building, the heaviness in her groin, and she had to stop it.

  No, no, no, no, no.

  She couldn’t let it happen.

  She summoned all her strength, wriggled away again, sat up and started undressing him.

  His gaze, half-lidded, warmed her. He was taking in the sight of her naked, and Macy could only hope he liked the view. Even after losing weight in college, she’d stayed curvy, and men had never made a secret of loving her full breasts.

  The rest of her body, well, she wasn’t exactly Kate Moss, but then no one ever complained. And she was too damn happy to be healthy to nitpick herself. She looked good enough. Hell, in dim light, she looked fantastic.

  And so did Griffin. She’d freed him of his shirt, and now he was taking off his shoes…his pants…his boxers. He had a stunning athlete’s body, still hard and trim, all sculpted muscle, not gone to flab the way so many guys did after their glorious youth. For that, she had to give him his props.

  His eyes were still locked on her, and she didn’t try to hide her staring at him. She let her gaze travel over him slowly, and his large, full cock deserved special attention.

  Heaven help her. She was a believer that size did matter, and it was going to matter more than ever tonight.

  Here was hoping he didn’t know how to drive that big rig with any kind of expertise.

  GRIFFIN WANTED to finish what he’d started. He didn’t like being known as a one-hit wonder in bed, and he took pride in making sure his lovers came many times during an encounter. Once was never enough, not for him, and definitely not for the women he slept with.

  “You should have let me finish,” he said. “I like to think I’m pretty good at it—”

  “Oh, you are,” Macy said, and then she kissed him.

  Her hand gripped his cock, and they were on their knees now, face-to-face. He intended that they should make it to the bed, or at the very least a solid piece of furniture to avoid rug burns, but then he was on his back and she was straddling his hips and all he could think to say was, “There’s a condom in my wallet.”

  She found it, opened the wrapper, put it on him, and he was too hypnotized by the sway of her ridiculously perfect breasts to do anything. He was normally more of a leg man than a breast man, but Macy had just converted him. He was a believer now.

  Hallelujah.

  He loved their weight, the way they moved, and when he thrust into her, the way they bounced. As her hot, tight opening took him in, he couldn’t imagine which was more perfect—her pussy or her tits.

  No, all of her.

  She was perfect, from her soft, pretty face to the slight curve of her belly, from her lush pink nipples to her long, narrow legs, she was freaking perfect.

  No wonder he had such a hard time working with her.

  She began rocking against him, riding him, moving his cock deeper into her, and he could only grip her hips and enjoy the show. Her hair spilled over her eyes, framing her face with a wild mop of waves, and she slid her hands up her torso as she rode him, gliding over her belly, cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples.

  Damn he loved watching a woman touch herself. Loved the arousal in her expression, loved her soft gasps and moans.

  She quickened her rocking, and he meant to slow her down. He didn’t want to come too fast, wanted to savor this, make it last. But then she dropped one hand behind her back and dragged her fingernails gently over his balls, and he was nearly done.

  He willed himself not to come, tried to remember that he was supposed to be pleasuring her. Or something like that. She continued to caress him as she rode his cock, and it all became too much.

  He had to do something to slow this down, and fast.

  She wa
s so much hotter than he’d imagined. Macy showed him the limits of his imagination—in the softness of her skin, in the pleasures of her curves, in the eagerness of her touch.

  He sat up, held her tight and lifted her with him as he stood. Against-the-wall sex was the hardest kind, guaranteed to slow them down enough that he could savor this once-in-a-lifetime experience.

  He held her weight with his hips. Where their bodies came together, he burned. And when he plunged himself inside her, he gasped with the relief of it.

  This woman.

  Had there ever been a woman he’d wanted more? Had he ever felt more stripped bare by his desire? As if he could do things that wouldn’t otherwise be humanly possible? As if running naked through a blizzard would seem a minor sacrifice if it meant having Macy the way he did right now?

  He found her mouth and kissed her. Drank her in. They kissed wild, hungry kisses until they had to come up for air, and then with her breasts against him, with her sweet hot pussy taking in his cock, he never wanted it to stop.

  Her thighs holding tight to his hips, he pumped into her again and again, their breath intermingling, their bodies growing damp from their effort.

  Macy’s face was a picture of desire. He wanted to paint it. To burn it into his memory. He watched her—her eyes closed, her brow slightly furrowed, her mouth soft and full—and he memorized it all.

  His legs began to shake under the effort of their sex, and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. He felt an impossible tightness growing inside him. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, and there was no stopping.

  Lifting her again, he eased them both onto the floor, where she straddled his waist, and he rested on his elbows for those final delicious thrusts.

  He bucked against her, cried out, felt his come shoot into her, lost himself in the pulsing frenzy of pleasure. Aftershocks rocked him as she dipped her head and laid claim to his mouth. And somewhere in their kissing, he managed to catch his breath.

  Only then did it occur to him that she hadn’t come yet.

  Oops.

  He pulled her down on top of him, his cock still deep inside her, and he whispered, “That wasn’t supposed to happen so fast, or without you.”

  She giggled. “Sorry. Guess we got a little carried away.”

  “Why don’t we move this all the way into the room and do it right?”

  “We were doing it wrong?” she asked, feigning confusion.

  Griffin eased out of her, rolled her off him and removed the condom. He went into the bathroom and dropped it into the garbage. Back out again, he offered Macy a hand and helped her to a standing position.

  “Far as I’m concerned,” he said, “anytime my girl doesn’t come before me, we’re doing something wrong.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking a little…shocked?

  Poor thing probably hadn’t had a really selfless lover before. And if that was the case, he’d just have to give her an extra dose of selflessness.

  “Does that shock you?” he said as he led her to the bed.

  “Um, no. I just figure, what does it matter who comes first?”

  “It matters because I believe it’s incredibly important to pleasure the woman I’m with. It’s a measure of my manhood.”

  She stretched out on the bed on her side, and the sexy curve of her hip nearly did him in. “Isn’t that overstating the case. I mean, who’s counting?”

  “I am,” Griffin said. “And I’m starting to get the feeling all the guys you’ve ever slept with were serious losers in bed.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve done all right.”

  “No one should ever have to describe their sex life as ‘all right,’ don’t you think?”

  A smile played on her lips. She appeared to be considering it. “I guess I’m more interested in the connection, the whole experience. It’s not all about the grand finale to me.”

  Something about her words rang false, but Griffin wasn’t exactly in a state to give the matter any deep thought. A little bit of foreplay, a lot of pleasure for her, and he’d be ready to rock again.

  “I know a lot of women think that, but seriously, it’s just a symptom of having been with lousy lovers. It’s like playing the game but not finishing it. Sure, playing the game is fun, but if you don’t get through the final round and declare a winner, you’ve lost the whole point.”

  “A sports analogy? An orgasm equals winning?” She was looking more amused by the second, and Griffin had a feeling he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere.

  Then he remembered the chocolate fondue, and suddenly he knew how to revive the night. He disappeared from the side of the bed and retrieved the dessert bag. He put the container of strawberries and the warm container of chocolate on the nightstand.

  “Are you ready for dessert?”

  “Now we’re talking,” she said.

  He sat down next to Macy, opened the chocolate, dipped his finger inside, and offered it to her. She took his hand and kept her gaze locked on him as she slowly licked his finger, then sucked it into her mouth.

  His erection was already coming back.

  Damn, the things they could do with fondue. It boggled the mind. He dipped another finger into the chocolate, withdrew it and traced it over Macy’s breast.

  “Hey, it works as body paint,” she said as she watched.

  Griffin bent and licked the chocolate from her. Then he dipped again…painted again…licked again.

  “Who needs strawberries when I’ve got you here?” he asked.

  She stretched to grab a strawberry, dipped it in chocolate, then took a bite. Dipped it again, then offered a bite to him. “I think the strawberries could still come in handy,” she said.

  He took a bite. Shook his head. “No, you definitely taste better.”

  And with that he went back to licking the last traces of chocolate from her breasts and belly. Once he’d finished, he moved lower again, plunging his tongue into her pussy until she was squirming and crying out his name.

  He coaxed her closer and closer to the finish line, making every oral-sex move he knew.

  He prided himself on reading a woman’s signs. He knew all the stages leading up to orgasm. The calm before the storm, the build-up, the tensing muscles, the release, the waves of pleasure.

  But Macy, oddly, wasn’t showing the usual signs.

  So when she suddenly tensed and cried out in desperate, throaty gasps, he had to wonder…

  Was she faking it?

  He tried to recall the way she’d sounded in the fake orgasm contest. Different from now, he was pretty sure, but his cock was rock-hard now, and he couldn’t think very coherently.

  No, couldn’t be fake.

  But his fingers were inside her, his tongue against her clit. It wasn’t as erect as it should have been. And there were no contracting muscles inside her. Something wasn’t quite right.

  Why the hell would she fake it?

  But, maybe he was just too crazed. He probably wasn’t reading the signs.

  When she’d recovered, he lay down beside her and draped his arm over her belly. “Did you just fake it?”

  Her eyes shot open. “Of course not. Why would you say that?”

  She sounded thoroughly offended by the suggestion, and the last thing he wanted to do right now was piss her off.

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry—guess I’m just overly suspicious after that contest the other night.”

  She expelled a sigh. “Oh. That. Forget it. I was just acting on a stupid dare.”

  “Promise?”

  She kissed him long and slow, her hand finding his cock and massaging all the right spots. “I promise,” she whispered against his lips.

  That was all the convincing he needed.

  6

  MACY STRETCHED OUT beside Griffin after they finished making love. She wanted more than anything to let them have another go at it, but if they did, she doubted she could hold back. Well, maybe she could, but she’d need some time to give herself another pe
p talk first.

  She had to keep in mind that this was all about dumbing down Griffin, and not at all about her own sexual pleasure.

  But damn it, he’d tried so hard. And he’d gotten so close to making her come.

  She traced her fingers along his ribcage, and he jerked, swatting her hand away. “That tickles,” he said.

  “Poor baby.”

  He rolled over onto her, pinning her to the bed. “Let’s see how you like it then,” he said as he began poking her ribs.

  She laughed and squirmed, fighting to get his hands away but failing.

  The phone rang, and Macy realized just how late it was. Late enough for Lauren to have arrived.

  “Hello,” she answered, breathless from their wrestling.

  “Um, did I interrupt something?” Lauren asked, sounding more than a little suspicious.

  “No, I was just…running from the bathroom.”

  “Was it chasing you?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” Lauren said. “I’m here. I’m tired. I want a bed to sleep in.”

  “My room is 2218. Come on up,” she said, flashing a warning look at Griffin.

  He snapped to attention, sitting up and looking at her in alarm. When Macy hung up the phone, she hopped off the bed and went to look for her clothes.

  “Lauren’s here. You’ve got to vacate the premises pronto.”

  “Just me? Aren’t you going to come over and keep me company tonight?”

  He managed to look so puppy-dog pitiful, even with his bare, bulging pecs and his rippling abs on display, that Macy couldn’t have imagined turning him down even if she hadn’t had an ulterior motive.

  “I’ve got to stay here to open the door for Lauren and give her a key, and then I’ll come over. Happy?”

  “I will be when I’ve got you in my bed,” he said, tugging on his pants. “And don’t spend too long chitchatting. I want you over there before I fall asleep waiting for you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Macy watched as he did a half-assed dressing job, grabbed his shoes and socks, and left her room to go next door. When he was gone, she heaved a gigantic sigh of relief.