by Sara Ney
Flushed, she rests back, bracing herself up by the elbows on my soft mattress, and I stroll in after her, flipping on a newly acquired table lamp from Target. I give my shirt collar a tug, loosening the top button and leisurely sliding it through the hole. One. Two. Two buttons undone.
Those hypnotic blue eyes never leave my face.
Three buttons.
The pads of Tabitha’s fingertips lightly caress my white duvet cover, stroking it softly. “Are these the crisp, clean sheets that Greyson said would be nice to roll around on that day I found you shopping?”
“Hell yeah.” A chuckle escapes my throat.
She swallows and licks those juicy lips. “Good choice.”
My fingers pull a fourth button unfastened. Five. “You impressed? I got me a new wine bottle opener, too.”
“Oh, fancy.” Her voice is throaty and breathless.
“You like the sheets, Tabitha?”
“Oh yeah.”
Six.
“You should see yourself. Hair all over, skin all hot. I couldn’t be more turned on. You’re so fucking sexy.”
Her hooded eyes leave my face to rake me up and down, searing, as I pluck button number seven free. “So are you.”
“You know what would make us even sexier?”
Eight.
“What?” she says in the barest hint of a whisper.
Her legs part voluntarily when I kneel… go down on bended knee… unbuckle the thin straps on her high-heeled shoes, each one the same color as her flesh and sexy as shit. I remove them both and kiss the top of her foot before tossing both heels off to the side. They hit the closet door with a loud thud. I ignore them, running my palms up her silky thighs, letting them roam up and under the skirt of her dress, parting the seam in the process.
I watch, transfixed, as Tabitha’s eyes flutter shut, losing herself in the feel of my hands gliding across her skin.
Still on my knees, I inch forward to settle myself between her legs and wrap my arms around her waist. I trail kisses along her collarbone, the glowing skin where her shoulder and neck meet.
Tabitha tips her head back to give my greedy-as-fuck lips access, her long blonde hair falling to the comforter, cascading like a waterfall. Stunning. I take a few strands, rubbing them between two fingers, then lift them to my nose.
“Your hair smells amazing.” I drop the locks and my lips speak into the hollow of her neck. “You smell like I want to do this.”
This is my tongue trailing the length of her collarbone.
Tabitha moans, stiffening slightly.
“What are we doing, Collin? What are we doing,” she pants. “This isn’t me. I don’t d-do one-night stands.” She releases another moan when my tongue licks the hollow between her breasts. “I’m a… mmm... relationship kind of girl.”
“So am I,” I respond dumbly, my mouth nipping her bare skin, hands pushing aside the soft fabric of her dress, lips grazing her bare shoulder.
Tabitha gives her head a little shake.
“I would never bring this up, but… oh god, that feels good… we’re stuck with each other no matter what. Cal and Grey are going to end up married and… mmmm… we’re going to be in each other’s lives whether… your tongue is amazing… or not.”
Tabitha threads her fingers through my hair, roughly raking her nails along my scalp. Her back is arched with pleasure, and my large hands move up and down her spine, kneading. I wet the pulse in her neck with my tongue, too. “Good. I want you to be stuck with me. You’re so goddamn sexy.”
I wonder if she knows what a turn-on her brain is, her mind.
No lie.
“What will our parents say?” she asks with bated breath into my hair as my fingers splay across her middle, enjoying the feel of her silky dress beneath my fingers. But not for long: she needs to be naked. “All their kids dating each other. Collin, it’s not normal.”
“Who gives a shit? I don’t.” My mouth finds purchase on the swells of her breasts and my fingers deftly work the belt on her dress. Swiftly. Done. “You’re beautiful.”
Her fingers continue their savage plunge through my—
“I love your thick hair.”
I’m close to purring like a goddamn jungle cat when she massages my scalp. “I love your hands.”
“I love your hands.”
These hands are going to make her feel even better. I nuzzle her cleavage again with my nose and inhale the musk of her perfume.
“I fucking love your boobs.” I palm one through her dress. “Definitely love these boobs.”
Tabitha tips her head back and laughs through a gasp. “Take off your shirt.”
Oh, now she’s giving orders? “Take off your dress.”
But I stand to pull the last few pearl buttons through their holes. She stops me.
“Wait, let me do it.”
I watch, mesmerized, as her nimble fingers fly down the seam of my shirt. She spreads her hands on my bare chest when she succeeds in releasing the remaining button. Her palms span flat over my washboard abs.
Her breath hitches in wonderment. “I was right.”
“About?”
“This is one of the happiest trails I’ve ever seen.” Still sitting on the edge of my bed, the tip of her finger leisurely traces the narrow path of hair that runs from my belly button, and disappears into the waistband of my pants.
I swallow. “When… when were you thinking about my happy trail?” She stands, both palms traveling flat over my abs, roaming the length of my stomach, pecs, and up, over my shoulders. Unhurriedly, they descend again towards my belt buckle in such a slow, deliberate pace it almost makes my leg twitch with urgency.
Like a dog in heat.
“When was I thinking about all this? Hmm…” Tabitha hums. The sound of metal coming unfastened, leather sliding, and a thud on the ground are the only sounds filling the air. “The minute I found out you weren’t Greyson’s new boyfriend, my mind went there. And stayed there.”
Her talented fingers work the fly of my pants, then the zipper.
Jesus.
I bite my lip and deeply inhale towards the ceiling, count to… to… shit yes… to control my breathing as my large body begins to vibrate, strumming high with eagerness.
Tabitha’s fingers skim my waistband, tormenting. Grasping my black slacks, she finally fucking pushes them down my hips. I step out of the legs, kicking them aside like a Neanderthal so they land in a heap near her shoes, out of the way. It wouldn’t be cool to trip on that shit once we’re frantically stumbling around bare-ass naked.
And we will be naked soon.
Guaranteed.
She teases, stroking me with a feather-light touch. “You really do have the best hands,” I damn near whimper. It sounds like I’m whining as goosebumps cover my skin.
Fucking goosebumps—and she hasn’t even stroked my cock yet.
“That’s what all the boys say.” She giggles then at my sullen expression. “What? I’ve always wanted to use that line out loud.”
“Maybe you should use it in your next book.”
“Maybe I should.”
Impatiently, I begin working the sash on her dress, yanking it free and letting it limply fall to the side. My fingers, of their own accord, pursue her skin like a heat-seeking missile. Tabitha bites her lower lip when I push her dress all the way open, permitting the pads of my hands to roam her body, the flat planes of her stomach, the plump breasts pressed together by a sheer, nearly transparent push-up bra.
Barely there, flesh-toned G-string.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think… “Were you planning on getting naked tonight?”
With a single shrug, off comes the dress. It cascades to the floor. “You’ll never know, will you? And I’ll never tell.”
Tabitha Thompson, you secretive little sneak.
My hands reach out, grab on, and toss her on the waiting bed.
It wants to get laid, too.
When our clothes fall to the
carpet and the pile of fabric is discarded, I waste no time scooting to the center of Collin’s bed in my bra and panties. It’s been who knows how many months since anyone has touched me intimately, and my body is alive with everything for Collin.
He follows on all fours, crawling towards me from the foot of the bed, kissing his way up my leg, starting at my ankles, dusting kisses on the insides of my thighs that leave me trembling almost uncontrollably.
I spread my legs desperately, affording him easier access to all my sensitive spots, because let’s face it—it feels ah-freaking-mazing and my inner slut has apparently been unleashed.
I want it so bad.
I do everything but thrash my head around on the pillow as Collin’s mouth grazes my stomach at the same time his forefinger hooks itself under the seam of my sheer underwear. The rude asshole teases with a tug, releasing the elastic with a snap and leaves them on.
I touch his shoulders, urging him upward till he stops, his mouth latching onto my nipple through my bra, sucking and sucking and swirling his tongue until the mesh is soaked through.
“Oh j-jesus that f-feels…” Yeah. That good.
When our mouths finally meet, we’re tortured and aroused at the same time, noisily groaning our relief. His large, hard body is smooth and firm, and I can feel every inch of him.
Every solid inch.
He’s so hard.
His dick is so hard.
It feels s-so… so… oh god...
But I’m not relieved—not nearly—and won’t be until he gives me what we both want. Lord, listen to me, using words I’ve written in my own books—chapter seven, as a matter of fact.
Thank god I didn’t blurt it out loud. Then again, as I get to know him better, it would probably turn him on hearing me talk all smutty and dirty.
His skin is sweaty and warm and I want to lick him all over.
I want him to lick me all over. All. Over.
And then, as if reading my mind… he does.
Yes! Shit yes.
“Do you like that, baby?” he murmurs as his hot lips follow a path from my stomach to my clavicle. Normally I can’t stand tallking during sex—and I can’t stand the word baby—but coming from Collin? He can call me anything he wants. I am putty in his large, capable hands.
My overactive imagination kicks into overdrive as the sound of our panting and kissing fills the air. I do nothing but lie like a limp rag doll beneath him, raising my arms above my head and grabbing hold of the fluffy pillow.
“I knew it was you the moment I saw you.” His praises reach my soul, even as his mammoth hands worship my breasts. “You’re all I think about. Jesus, Tabitha, stop rocking your hips like that.”
But I don’t stop. I release the pillow, reaching my hands between our bodies to stroke him up and down through his boxer briefs. He’s long and ready and throbbing. “Why are we still wearing fucking clothes? Take these off.”
The wait is unbearable.
Agonizing.
I’m begging now. “Please, Collin, take them off.”
“You don’t have to fucking tell me twice.” He rolls off me to swiftly strip himself bare, and I do the same, fumbling to unclasp my bra and peel off my underwear, dropping them to the floor.
“I don’t know if I can wait.” Collin licks my ear lobe as he settles himself between my thighs, stiff in all the right places. I moan my appreciation—loudly—into the hollow of his neck when he rotates his pelvis, grinding into me, and press a kiss to his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna make you come so hard.””
I want more.
He gives it to me.
Yes… Yes, Collin. More.
A distraction: that’s what she’s been for the past several weeks. I wanted her blonde, beautiful, and beneath me.
And now she’s here.
Her neck thrown back as my mouth eagerly imprints the smooth, bare skin of her shoulder, Tabitha’s golden hair spills across my pillow. I brush the hair out of her face, cupping her jawline with my palm.
My thumb strokes her bottom lip and I lower my chin until our lips meld together. Brush back and forth. Once. Twice.
I savor the feel of our naked bodies pressed together, impatient to feel her around my hardened cock, the pulsing between my legs almost un-fucking-bearable, wanting to dig in deep.
I don’t want to rush her, but—
“Condom, now. Collin, Collin,” she chants my name. “Enough playing around. I need it now.”
I give it to her then, sliding in and nailing her slow and fast and… motherfucker… Soft and hard and… fuck, Tabitha, right fucking there… Slick with sweat, the air thick with urgency, we move in sync, whispering. Demanding. Coaxing.
Gasping.
The fucking moaning never ends.
“Yes… oh, mmm, God, Collin… Collin… Uh! Oh god…”
“...Hold on tight to the headboard, baby... Fuck me, Tabitha, just like that…”
“…Right there… p-please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t… stop…”
We’re raw. We’re tender.
We’re a walking, talking cliché.
Fuck. Yeah.
We settle into a pattern after our night together—meeting at Blooming Grounds during the work week; he works and I write. Laughing, talking. Dinners. Hiking.
Movies at his place.
Our feelings for each other grow; we ache.
We burn.
We hold hands, talk, kiss constantly. Cuddle.
Touch.
And have sex. Lots and lots of hot, incredible sex.
We make love, too.
Collin Keller is everything I’ve ever wanted—everything I’ve only fantasized about in writing.
Blare watched Adam from across the bedroom as he pulled off his shirt, stalked over, and pulled back the covers on his side of her bed. Sliding in, he reached over, trailing a hand down her bare stomach. “Tired?” he asked, kissing her shoulder.
“Yes and no,” she said, stretching like a feline alley cat, satisfied and content. “It was a long day.” Blare might have worked for her parents during the day, but she had a side project she worked on at night. Moonlighting as an artist was taking its toll.
Adam went further down her body, disappearing under the covers. “Sweetie, don’t you think it’s time to tell someone besides me?” His voice was tentative and unsure. He’d suggested it before, but… “I’m not ready. Give me time.”
“When will it be time, Blare? It’s been over a year.”
Blare stiffened under his inquisition, but softened immediately when his fingers… did that thing... right… there…in that spot… “Yes. I know. I will, but I have to be the one to tell, okay? Promise you won’t say anything.”
He kissed her neck. Nipped at her breasts. Licked in that spot that drove her absolutely wild.
“Baby, I promise.” Adam kissed her abs. Her belly button. “You can trust me. I won’t tell a soul….”
Blare lost herself in him then as he worshiped her body. Loving him.
Trusting him...
“Greyson tells me you’ve been spending shit tons of time with my sister. That’s a big change from her avoiding you at your party.” That’s something I’ve always respected about Cal since he started dating Greyson; he doesn’t fuck around. When he wants to know something, he asks—he doesn’t beat around the bush, and he’s not passive aggressive.
But that doesn’t mean I have to give him a full shakedown of my personal business.
I glance over my shoulder in the direction of the restrooms, where the girls have disappeared to. We’re at a bar in Calumet, the city where Cal attends an Ivy League university, and coordinated the trip for a weekend Greyson happened to be staying with him.
Win-win for all of us.
For Tabitha and me, it was like killing two birds with one stone, getting to visit them both at once. It’s also the first time our siblings will see us acting like an actual couple.
“Dude. Are you listening to me?” Cal prod
s me in the ribs.
“We’re having fun.”
Lot of sex. Lots of fun.
“We’re having fun?” He snorts, resting his elbows on the counter in the bar we’re sitting in. “Humor me and define fun, would you, because you say fun and all I hear is I’m banging your sister.”
Cal uses air quotes when he sarcastically intones the word fun.
He’s perceptive. Calculating. And clearly not amused.
I look him in the eye, tapping the bottom of the beer bottle in my hand against the counter. “Without getting into detail, Tabitha and I are friends—”
“It better not be friends with fucking benefits.”
“Would you let me finish?” Okay, initially I assumed he was going to be cool with me dating his sister, but now I’m not so sure. I tread lightly, choosing my next words carefully. Don’t get me wrong—Cal is cool guy and he’s perfect for Greyson, but he’s also built like a tank, has about thirty pounds on me, and I’ve literally watched him suckerpunch a guy between the eyes during a rugby match. So yeah. Pissing him off is not on the itinerary.
“Tabitha and I are friends. I’m not just physically attracted to her; I respect the shit out of her. Do you even know how amazing she is?” I take a swig of beer. “The minute I saw her, I just kn—why the fuck are you staring at me like that? Am I starting to sound like a goddamn pansy?”
Cal rolls his eyes. “The minute you saw her at your housewarming party?”
“No, man, the minute I saw her hiding behind a rack of chairs at Target, working herself up into a tizzy, wearing that cute pink hat. So fucking adorable.” I chuckle when Cal looks back at me, his brows scrunched into a confused scowl.
“My sister is not adorable. She overreacts to everything and is a giant pain in the…” He stops short when I cock an eyebrow.
He shakes his head, regathering his thoughts. “Look, I’m not going to start an argument with you. All I’m saying is you better not be playing around. She’s dated enough assholes; she doesn’t need to date another one.”
“Have you ever met your sister? Pretty sure she’d have my balls in a vise if I screwed her over.” Cal nods in agreement. I swallow what’s left in my beer bottle before waxing poetic. “So sweet I can barely stand it. Last night she surprised me with a—”
