OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW BETTER

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  But as he pushed her closer, he knew that he couldn't hold back this time. The erotic sensation of touching her there, right where he could feel the pressure of each thrust of his penis, was too much stimulation. When she went off like a rocket, so did he, bellowing out his sexual satisfaction, loving the sense of privacy that allowed him to do it.

  Sex in a house was good. Sex in a house with Kasey was very good.

  * * *

  Not long after that, Kasey took a tour of the house while wearing Sam's shirt and nothing else. She wasn't sure that a tour of the house was a wise idea, considering that she would end all contact with Sam after tonight, but he'd been like a little kid with a new toy. He'd admitted that he'd only had the house six months and she was his first female guest.

  That had worried her, too. Sam might be putting too much importance on what was happening between them, even though she'd given him no reason to do that. She knew from talking with her friends that lots of couples enjoyed a night of sex with no strings attached. Sam was thirty, for heaven's sake. He had to know that was a possibility.

  But you haven't said that, whispered a little voice in her head. She should have. She should have said it on the dance floor, or in the car, or before they walked into his house, or before he took off his clothes. But she'd never tried out that particular line, and it didn't come trippingly off the tongue, as Shakespeare would say.

  She would tell him though, and soon, because this affair couldn't go anywhere. He was a thirty-year-old guy with a house, for heaven's sake. She was a twenty-year-old with no desire to settle down. They were very different.

  She had to keep that thought front and center in her mind, especially considering how good the sex had been. She'd never had a multi before. Add that to the privacy of being alone in a house, another luxury she'd never experienced, and the comfy bed, and his trick with the pillow—way too much fun.

  Then there was the other problem, the sense of belonging. She'd started this date already slightly in love with Sam, and he'd more than lived up to her expectations. They got along very well, considering how old he was. More than once she'd caught herself wondering if she could stretch this episode beyond one night. But she knew that would be a mistake that could get her in serious trouble.

  Putting her thoughts temporarily on hold, she went for a tour of the house, because he seemed to need her to see it. Maybe that's the way new home owners were about their houses—they felt the need to show them off to anyone who would look around. She wouldn't know about that, but she had to admit it was a very nice house.

  "I still have plenty I want to do to the place." Dressed in a pair of shorts he'd grabbed from a drawer, Sam held her hand as he took her back through the living room. "But at least the previous owners had already pulled up all the carpet and refinished the wood floors."

  "They feel nice." She'd never walked on real wooden floors in her bare feet, and she liked the sensation.

  He glanced down at her feet. "I know what you mean. I hardly ever wear shoes in here." His eyes traveled upward, to where the shirt skimmed her thighs. "Too bad I took down the drapes, or we wouldn't have to wear clothes, either." His eyes grew hot and his fingers tightened.

  The thought of walking around Sam's house naked spiked her arouse-o-meter. "I'd probably feel weird doing that," she said. But she didn't really think so. She suspected she'd feel sexy.

  "You'd get used to it. I never realized I was so sick of roommates and apartment living until I moved here. Come on, let me show you the best part."

  She'd seen the best part, and it was his king-size bed, but she chose not to say so. The more she praised his lovemaking techniques, the less he'd understand when she told him goodbye.

  He drew her through the dining room, which currently had only his computer desk in it, and into the kitchen, where he flipped on another light. "This is not the best part. Eventually the kitchen will have to be completely renovated, but I'm waiting. Kitchens aren't my specialty."

  She could guess what he was waiting for—a woman who wanted to share this house with him, a woman who would have definite ideas about how she liked her kitchen arranged. "It looks okay to me," she said, so that he'd understand she wasn't mentally redesigning the space to suit her. She didn't even like to cook.

  He shrugged. "It works for now. Which reminds me, would you like something? I have some wine and beer, plus I think there's cheese and crackers, if you're hungry."

  "No, no, I'm fine." She turned down the goodies quickly, alarmed by her urge to accept them and watch him putter around this ancient kitchen. She was becoming entirely too involved with him. Time to get back to the sex.

  "Okay, then let me show you the back." He unlocked the kitchen door and opened it. "Someday I'll have this widened and put in French doors, probably during the kitchen renovation. I'll also have somebody replace the bedroom window with French doors so it opens out here, too." Still holding her hand, he started through the door.

  "Wait, are we going out there?"

  He paused. "Why not?"

  "I'm wearing nothing but your shirt, and there's a button missing."

  "Doesn't matter. There's a flagstone patio and the yard is surrounded by a seven-foot solid wall. It's like a secret garden. No one can see in. This backyard was the main reason I bought the house."

  "So you could have parties?" Somehow she didn't think so.

  "I suppose, but more for myself. A hideaway." He gave her hand a tug. "It's okay. Trust me, nothing will get you."

  She'd been an Arizona girl too long to walk casually outside barefoot. "What about scorpions? What about snakes?"

  "No snakes in this garden. The wall's too high. And I patrol all the time with a black light and I've never seen a single scorpion. I think we're too far away from the actual desert here in the middle of town." He smiled at her. "But if it would make you feel better, I'll find you something to wear on your feet."

  "No, I'll take your word for it." She almost wished he'd made fun of her fears instead of being so understanding. It was going to make dumping him extremely difficult. Of course, once she dumped him, he wouldn't be understanding. He'd pretty much hate her. What a depressing thought.

  The cool night air tickled her bare legs as she stepped outside onto the flagstone. Low pagoda lights ringed the patio, which was furnished with a glass table and chairs on one side and a rope hammock hanging from a metal frame on the other. She smelled flowers and heard water splashing softly. Despite the seven-foot wall, which she could see dimly in the glow from the half moon, she felt daring being out here wearing only Sam's shirt.

  "Isn't this fantastic?" Sam swung his arm to encompass the area. "Those two mesquite trees shade the patio during the day, and once I gave them a good trim they look really good."

  Kasey glanced up through the delicate herringbone pattern of the mesquite leaves to the night sky, where the moon was the main attraction. City lights blocked out most of the stars. Although she could hear the muted drone of traffic, the trickling water and chirping crickets turned the yard into an oasis of calm in the middle of the city.

  She could picture herself in the hammock reading a good book. She could also picture herself in the hammock with Sam, but she blocked that image. A hammock was for spending a lazy Sunday afternoon together, but impractical for sex. All she wanted from Sam was satisfaction, not long-term friendship.

  "I can see why you like it," she said.

  "I put in the pond and waterfall myself." He sounded very proud of that.

  "I can hear it. Where is it?"

  "Over here." He led her to the side of the yard, near the hammock. "I nestled it in between the lantana and the hibiscus, and tried to make it look as natural as possible."

  Leaning closer, Kasey could see little silver flashes as moonlight reflected off water tumbling down levels of smooth rock into a small pool. "What a great idea. Do you have fish?"

  "Not yet, but I've been thinking about it." He rubbed her palm with his thumb as he stood besid
e her, staring at the waterfall.

  "Fish would be cool." In spite of her vow not to get drawn into his life, she'd been captured by his excitement when he talked of this backyard.

  "See, this is how I want to expand Ashton Landscaping. I'm known for creating and maintaining commercial installations, but I want to reach the individual home owner who would like something like this, a retreat. I think we're moving away from flashy showplace yards and toward increased privacy. I want that kind of business."

  Now was the time to squash his next move. Then she could give her speech about spur-of-the-moment sex that meant nothing and went nowhere. "Sam, about hiring me, I don't think—"

  "But I do think." He pulled her gently into his arms. "I never trusted the idea of bringing in a PR expert until I met you, but I know you'd do a great job. This new direction would take more than buying some ads. I need a new image." He slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt and cupped her bottom.

  "That could be, but I can't be the one to give it to you." She wanted to give him something else, though. The moment he'd started caressing her, she'd remembered his promise to kiss her until she climaxed. From the way she felt right now, that wouldn't take very many kisses.

  "Why not?" He started unfastening the buttons of her shirt.

  "Because of this … what we're doing…" She closed her eyes and sighed as he pushed aside the shirt and stroked her breast.

  "That's silly." He leaned down and nuzzled the side of her neck. "What happens here is a private thing," he murmured. "It doesn't have to affect our business relationship, except to make it better."

  She felt confused, not to mention aroused. She'd thought there was some sort of rule about not sleeping with your clients. If there wasn't, there should be. Shouldn't there? "I don't think it's right. I don't—" She paused, unable to remember what she'd meant to say because he'd leaned down to flick his tongue over her nipple.

  "Mmm." He licked her other breast. "You taste delicious."

  A cool breeze made her damp nipples tingle. Vaguely she realized the shirt now hung open all the way to her thighs. "Maybe … maybe we should go in."

  "Are you cold?"

  Not even remotely. Now he'd started to suck on her nipples, and she was getting hotter by the minute. "I just thought, that if we're going to … get down to it … then we should go back to your bedroom." He was turning her knees to jelly again, and before much longer she wouldn't be able to walk.

  He kissed his way back to her mouth. "Or we could stay here," he murmured.

  "But—"

  "Let's try this. Sit down here." He guided her to the edge of the hammock.

  She was so wobbly that she sat down immediately. "Oh!"

  "What?" He knelt in front of her.

  "That feels very funky on my tush." Weird and on the kinky side, too, she thought.

  He steadied her by bracketing her hips. "Bad funky or interesting funky?"

  "Interesting." She was curious as to what he had in mind. She couldn't imagine having sex with him on this thing.

  "Then let's go with it." He cupped her face and feathered kisses over her mouth. "I want you to lie straight back."

  "And what will you do?"

  "Stay right here."

  She was beginning to get the picture, and it was quite a picture. He wanted her crossways on the hammock, her legs dangling over the edge, while he moved in. Her pulse rate accelerated. "You're sure no one can see us?"

  "Positive." His voice trembled with obvious excitement.

  "Not even the eye-in-the-sky police helicopter?"

  "If I hear it coming, I'll throw myself across your writhing body."

  She started to quiver. "And will I be writhing?"

  "That's my goal." He nibbled on her bottom lip. "Only thing is, you can't yell out here."

  She really needed to tell him that tonight was all they'd enjoy together, and she would, but not now, not before the hammock experiment. "Okay. I'll be quiet."

  "Good. Now lie back." He leaned over her as he guided her down. As he did, he moved his mouth to her breasts, then on to her tummy. When her head rested on the far side of the hammock, he kissed the moist curls between her legs. "Perfect."

  She couldn't believe she was doing this, lying in a rope hammock looking up at the moon, her shirt open, her heart racing because any moment Sam would … and then he did, using his warm tongue in a way that made her gasp. She pushed her fingers through the gaps in the hammock's weave and hung on for dear life. Oh, he was good. He was very good.

  Then, when she thought the sensations rolling over her couldn't get any better, he thrust two fingers up through the open weave and buried them deep inside her. Incredible. As he used his tongue to swirl and lap, he stroked rapidly with his fingers until she was on complete overload. Her orgasm roared in with such force that she had to clench her jaw to muffle her groans of completion.

  "Sweet," he murmured, trailing kisses along her thighs.

  She lay panting, boneless and unable to move. Slowly her fingers uncurled from their death grip on the hammock. He'd have to carry her inside. No way could she walk there. Maybe he really did plan to carry her, because he lifted her hips to scoot her a little closer to the edge.

  She took a shaky breath. "I can try to walk," she said.

  "Not yet. Stay right there."

  No problem. She would stay right there and look up at that beautiful, beautiful moon. Sex was the best thing ever, especially delivered by Sam.

  "I'm going to hook your ankles over my shoulders."

  "You're going to do what?" She raised her head as best she could and discovered that he was kneeling across from her, her ankles propped on his shoulders. He'd moved very close to the hammock. Then, she felt the smooth glide of his penis entering her. "Sam?"

  "Hold still." His voice was husky.

  "Did you put on a—"

  "Yes. Put one in my pocket before we came out here."

  "You had this in mind all along!"

  "Not exactly this." His chuckle was low and sexy. "This was a recent inspiration. Now, I'm going to gently swing the hammock. It might not work, but if it does…"

  "You're insane."

  "Want to go insane with me?"

  She should have picked someone else for her first one-night stand. Sam was more than she could handle. She felt his charisma wrap around her like the ropes of the hammock. With a guy like Sam, you always wanted to find out what would happen next.

  "Sure," she said.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  «^»

  Sam wondered if knowing about Kasey's super brain had spurred him to become more creative. Or maybe it was the house and this special garden he loved so much. They'd already done the wild thing on an ordinary bed. He thought they should try other options now.

  And the hammock was some option. He didn't have to swing it very fast to get excellent friction. He'd read about something similar to this, some Asian rope trick, but the hammock worked just fine. More than fine.

  Kasey was making soft little moaning sounds that he thought meant she was having a good time, too. But maybe he'd better check.

  "You okay?" he murmured as he eased the hammock back and forth.

  "Oh, yeah." She gulped for air. "This is … amazing. I don't have to … do anything and still I'm getting … my jollies."

  "Then it's working for you?" It was working so well for him that he calculated about thirty seconds to blastoff.

  "It's working. It's really, really working."

  "Good." He tightened his grip on the edge of the hammock. The creaking of the metal support rings merged with the chirp of crickets. The flagstone was tough on his knees, but the rest of him was so happy he didn't care about his knees. "I'm … I'm close."

  She groaned. "Me, too."

  "Really close."

  "Yeah. Like … right … now. Oh. Oh, oh, oh."

  As her spasms rippled over his rigid penis, he steadied the hammock and let his own orgasm take over,
clenching his jaw against the cries that rose from his throat. He'd meant to be quieter, but the pleasure was too intense to take it in silence. He hoped the neighbors were in bed asleep, because if they happened to be outside, they'd know exactly what was going on.

  And maybe that didn't matter. At the moment, he really didn't care what the neighbors thought. He didn't care about a damned thing, actually, except enjoying this wonderful night with Kasey.

  * * *

  Kasey allowed Sam to untangle them from their complicated position so she could stretch out lengthwise on the hammock. She murmured her thanks, feeling sexy and very sophisticated. Not every woman could say she'd had this experience. Kasey didn't intend to tell anyone about it, though, not even if it would give her hoochie mama status in the office.

  Next to her, the waterfall babbled away, letting her imagine they were out in the woods next to a mountain stream. She didn't feel like moving, or thinking. "Let's stay here a little while," she said. Then she shivered as a breeze cooled her skin.

  "We'll stay, but we need a blanket." Sam dropped a kiss on her mouth and headed into the house.

  A blanket would be cozy, Kasey realized. Maybe too cozy. As the glow from her recent orgasm faded, she began to wonder when she should ask Sam to take her home. She really didn't want to do that, but she'd have to force herself at some point.

  When he dropped her off at her apartment would be the time to tell him she wouldn't be seeing him anymore. Bringing up the subject in advance wasn't smart. She might not have the willpower to make it stick. But at her front door, she could say what had to be said and then go inside, which would be easier on both of them.

  She should probably think about leaving soon. The longer she stayed, the worse the parting would be. But now she'd agreed to this snuggle-under-a-blanket routine, and he'd gone to the trouble of finding a blanket.

  It must be some trouble, because he wasn't coming right back. Finally he showed up, a plastic water bottle in one hand, a box of crackers in the other and a blanket under his arm.

  "I thought we needed eats," he said.

  "Nice idea." So he'd been getting refreshments. He was too sweet for his own good, plus she thought it was cute that he'd brought a bottle of water when that had been what she'd offered him earlier in the day. She really hated to think of dumping him when the night was over. She wondered if there was any way to avoid doing that. She quickly analyzed the situation. No, she had to dump him.