by JM Stewart
Then he kissed his way down her soft belly. When he reached her jeans, he peered up at her, asking the silent question. Was she sure?
She nodded, and his erection twitched in his jeans. If it were possible to be any more aroused…Jesus. He was shaking so much he fumbled over the button. Turned out she wore a matching pair of lace panties. They were pretty, but like the bra, they were in the way. They hit the floor along with her bra and jeans.
She was naked before him now, and he took a moment to drink her in. She was long and lean and so beautiful. He stroked his fingers over her hips, her thighs, enjoying the feel of her beneath his hands, that he could even touch her like this at all. The idea had been to use his hands to make her come, but her nakedness before him called to him like a siren’s song.
He finally gave in and sifted his fingers through the short curls at the apex of her thighs. Damned if he could help himself. “You don’t wax.”
“I’m sorry. Is it a turnoff?”
“No. Just the opposite.” It made his mouth water. It had been a long damn time since he’d been with a woman who took pride in her body exactly the way it was. Wendy had always insisted on a landing strip, as she called it. Hell, she’d even bedazzled the damn thing. Lauren’s neatly trimmed curls were arousing as hell.
Then and there he nixed the idea of touching. He didn’t want to touch. He wanted to taste. He wanted the flavor of her on his tongue.
When he shifted to lie on his belly between her thighs, Lauren reached down, attempting to pull him back up. “You don’t have to do that. You said touching.”
The unease in her voice had him jerking his head up. Lauren stared at the ceiling, her face flushed, body stiff as a two-by-four.
He stroked a hand over her belly. “Why does this make you uneasy?”
She shook her head. “Steph said most men don’t like to. You said touching tonight…”
He grunted in disgust. “That’s because Steph’s dating the wrong kinds of men. Some of us happen to enjoy it.” To prove his point, he leaned in and inhaled, drawing in her scent, then groaned. “God you smell good.”
She smelled like a woman. Clean. Musky.
He dipped his head again, this time stroking her sensitive folds with a long swipe of his tongue. Lauren let out a strangled gasp, her hips arching upward. That one tiny reaction fueled his need. Shaking now, he went in again, another long taste, pushing his tongue into her. She moaned softly, this one agonized. When he sucked her clit into his mouth, her body went limp, thighs dropping open as she finally relaxed into the bed.
Out the corner of his eye, he watched her fingers curl against the comforter again. “Oh God…”
That sound, soft and throaty and full of sweet agony, stoked the flame in his belly to a full-body burn, and he lost whatever control he had. He wanted her to come and hard. Over and over and over.
So he slid his hands beneath the firm globes of her ass and lifted her to his mouth. He reveled in the sweet taste of her. In the way her body responded to his ministrations. Lauren gasped and sighed, wonder in her breathy voice. Her belly and thighs began to shake and her hands clenched and unclenched around the comforter beneath her.
He knew she was close when her legs stiffened and she gripped his head, pulling him in tighter. She came with a gentle bucking of her hips, riding his mouth like she owned him.
Trent didn’t release her or let her up. He kept at her, licking and sucking, taking all she gave and demanding more. He couldn’t help himself. She was so fucking beautiful, back arched, body shaking like she’d lost all control of herself. To know he was the one who’d made her come undone like that? Jesus. He wanted to beat his damn chest. It was selfish to think, but the sight was addicting all the same.
When she finally collapsed back into the bed and closed her legs, he kissed her belly and shifted to lie down beside her. His erection throbbed painfully, and just the sensation of his shorts gliding against the engorged head, combined with her body heat against him, was almost too much. It had taken all his self-control not to come with her that last time. He had enough presence of mind to gather her to him, but all he could do for a moment was remember to drag in oxygen.
Lauren slid her hand up his chest, soft fingers sifting through the hair in the center, and purred like a contented cat. She tilted her head enough to meet his gaze, big brown eyes liquid and soft, and smiled. “Your turn.”
Chapter Eleven
Lauren slid over of Trent. Straddling his hips, she reached for the button on his jeans with trembling fingers. “I have to warn you, I’ve never done this before.”
She caught the words too late to suck them back. Of course he knew that. Because she’d told him exactly how inexperienced she was. But she was completely out of her element again and babbling.
She rolled her eyes and glanced up, ready to admit all of that to him, when his expression caught her. Trent lay glaring at the ceiling. “What?”
He turned that frown on her, his gaze searching her face. After a moment he let out a heavy sigh and jerked his back to the ceiling. “I’m glad you’ve never done this before, because I hate the thought of you doing it for anyone else.”
Her heartbeat hitched, one corner of her mouth lifting in response. This was just sex. Logically, she knew that. She wasn’t naive enough to think this would end in anything but heartbreak. Neither could she resist. She wanted the time she had with him, and his very evident jealousy made her chest swell. Deep down inside, it made her feel the tiniest bit like she was his.
She dropped her gaze to his belly and tugged the button of his jeans open. “It’s going to happen, you know. This is going to end, and we’re both going to see other people. That was part of the deal.”
In two seconds flat she found herself on her back. Trent pinned her to the bed with his hips, his erection pressing against her core. He bent his head to her throat, his voice low and gruff in her ear as he skimmed his mouth along her jaw. “But for the next two weeks, you’re mine. Don’t forget that part.”
“Trent?” She reached between them and pulled down his zipper, making sure her fingers brushed his erection as she did.
He froze above her, lips pausing on a stroke over the muscle of her shoulder. She didn’t miss the tremor that moved through him. “Hmm?”
She slid her hand inside his pants, palming his erection. She had no clue what a man was supposed to feel like, but she loved the firm, softness of him. “That’s the part I like. Those were your rules. Not mine.”
He lifted his head, his irritation gone. Now his eyes were tender, filling with an intimacy that caught her in the chest. That look in his eyes nudged the part of her that wanted…more. With him.
He brushed his mouth over hers. “I like that part, too.”
She rose and rolled him onto his back. Straddling his hips once again, she leaned over him and nipped at his bottom lip. “My turn.”
Following his lead, she kissed her way down his chest, stopping occasionally to kiss the shrapnel scars, before moving down his belly. She kissed the skin above his jeans, then gripped the waistband in her hands and kissed her way down his legs as she pulled them off.
Halfway down, the scar on his right thigh caught her attention. Having long since healed over, it was little more than a red line running the length of his thigh. The memory of the cast he’d worn for six weeks filled her mind. She brushed her lips along the scar before finally pulling his jeans and underwear off and tossing them over the side of the bed.
He was now fully naked, and she sat back on her heels, allowing herself a moment to look at him. He really was beautifully made, lean and muscular. His cock lay stiff against his belly. It twitched beneath her gaze, and she glanced at him to find him watching her, those blue eyes blazing.
She crawled up the bed, kneeling between his spread legs. Her hands began to shake again as she stroked them up his thighs and over his hips. “Any advice?”
He let out a soft laugh, the fingers of his right hand sift
ing into her hair. “Yeah. Don’t bite me.”
She wanted to laugh, too, but butterflies had ahold of her stomach. Rather, she peered up at him, feeling entirely too helpless. Was she ruining the moment? “I’m serious.”
His fingers caressed the back of her head. “Relax, Lauren. You can’t possibly get this wrong. Just go with what feels right. I’ll warn you before I come. If you don’t want a mouthful, you should stop at that point.”
Yeah. Steph had warned her about that, too.
Heart hammering like a freight train, she nodded, settled on her belly between his legs, and let her need to please him fuel her movements. The orgasm he’d given her this way had been off the charts. She wanted to blow his mind. So she took her time caressing his length, enjoying the feel of him in her hand. His body trembled against her, his breath hitching.
When she finally enveloped him in her mouth, he let out a low, guttural groan, the hand in her hair fisting. “Slow. Ohh, Christ, go slow. You have me so wound up.”
She had to admit she enjoyed everything about this. The feel of him in her mouth. The flavor of his skin. Even the slightly salty tang that erupted on her taste buds. It was his reactions, however, that fueled the fire raging in her stomach. Every soft stroke drew a reaction out of him. His belly jumped. His trembling escalated. His breaths soughed in and out of his mouth.
So she increased her pace, working her hands along with her mouth. She needed his pleasure.
He let out a low, deep groan and reached for her, groping blindly until he gripped her shoulder. “Doll…come off. Come off…”
Remembering his warning, she popped him from her mouth, glancing up at him as she stroked him with her hand. He groaned, fingers digging into her skin, mouth hanging open in bliss, eyes squeezed tightly shut. His seed rocketed out of the pulsing tip, splashing his chest and quivering belly.
Okay, so she got it, why he’d insisted on doing this for her. In the grips of an orgasm, he was truly beautiful to behold. It took a lot of trust to let someone do that, and his vulnerability in that moment awed her.
He went limp, body relaxing finally into the mattress. A long breath left him in a rush, as if he’d been holding it, and he let his hands flop to his sides. “Jesus Christ.”
Again she followed his lead and kissed a clean spot on his belly before climbing up to lie beside him.
He opened his eyes and turned his head, leaning over to brush a kiss across her mouth. “You are fucking incredible.”
His hand found hers, where it rested on the bed between them, long fingers threading through hers, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. They lay in comfortable silence, just the sounds of his labored breathing filling the room.
“Trent?”
“Hmm?”
“I actually enjoyed that.”
“Me too.” He let out a breathless laugh and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then rested his head against hers, his voice an intimate hum between them. “I’d hold you, but I’m a mess. I’ll be right back.”
She watched him leave the room before getting up long enough to move beneath the covers. As she lay staring at the ceiling, the sheets cool against her bare skin, her chest tightened with a mixture of pleasure and pain, swelling and aching at the same time. She might not have forever with him, but she could never regret this. If this was all the time she’d have with him, she’d take it.
He came back a couple minutes later, crawled into the bed beside her and curled against her back. She drifted off to sleep with his arm around her waist, holding her so tightly she might as well have been a second skin.
* * *
Trent woke the next morning with the sun. Lying on his side, he took a moment to drink in the sight beside him. Lauren lay on her back, mouth slack in slumber, breathing deep and even, gloriously, beautifully naked. The covers had slipped down, now lying around her waist, and her nipples puckered in the cool air of the morning. He couldn’t resist tracing a finger over her right breast, following the curve up and over those perky, dusky nipples.
She shivered and moaned softly in her sleep, rolling onto her side to face him.
This. This was the feeling he missed, waking to a warm body and supple, feminine curves. That the body was Lauren’s only made the moment sweeter.
It also increased the soul-deep ache in his chest. He yearned to make love to her, but the why had changed a bit. He wanted to connect to her on every possible level, to take a piece of her with him when he had to end this side of their relationship.
And he did have to end it. He firmly reminded himself why every time this feeling crept over him. These days, he felt it a lot. It seeped over his chest, a sense of loneliness that ate away at his soul. They’d been together like this for only two weeks, but it seemed like a lifetime.
Which was why he was getting out of this damn bed.
Twenty minutes later, he was dressed in his jeans and halfway through making breakfast when Lauren appeared in the kitchen entrance. In a light pink terry-cloth bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, of all things, she shuffled into the room. Her hand slid across the bare skin of his back as she stopped beside him and peered around his shoulder at the stove. “Do you ever sleep late?”
Despite the brewing coffee and the aroma of cooking bacon that permeated the air, his senses focused on her. Warm skin. A hint of her musky perfume. God, he ached to bury his mouth between her thighs again. To bend his head and find that sensitive spot on her shoulder that made her shiver.
He tossed her a smile and prayed it looked at least somewhat realistic. “Not really. Habit, I suppose.”
She peered up at him, head tilted back slightly to meet his gaze. Her eyes were soft and filled with a mischief that made him ache all over. “I was hoping to wake up next to you this morning.”
He forced a laugh and concentrated on pulling the cooked bacon from the pan, laying the pieces on the small rack to drain. If he didn’t, he’d be turning to her. “I think it’s better for both of us that I got out of bed. If I had stayed, that rule to wait to make love would’ve ended this morning.”
Lauren let out a quiet laugh and slid behind him, pressing a kiss to his back as her warm hands slid up his chest. “That was your rule, not mine. You wouldn’t have heard me complaining.”
His gut clenched. She wouldn’t have, and he damn well knew it, but that wasn’t why he’d gotten up.
“I need you too much. I’m not sure I would’ve been gentle.” That wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. After sleeping beside her naked curves all night, he’d woken with the hard-on to end all hard-ons. Jesus, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman this bad.
He’d also needed some semblance of distance, time to get those boundaries straight in his head. To remind himself why he’d made them. He’d failed Wendy as a husband. Had failed Cooper and AJ. And if he let himself fall for Lauren, he’d fail her, too. He would not lose her. She was the sunshine in his world, and the day she walked out of it was the day he had to go back to living in the dark. As friends, she’d remain in his life.
He turned the burner off and slid the hot frying pan aside, then turned, resting his hands on the counter’s edge as he leaned back against it. “Got any plans for the day?”
“Nope.” She flashed a smile that melted as quickly as it appeared and laid a hand against his chest, eyes searching his. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I just wanted to make you breakfast.” That at least was true. To distract her from this line of questioning, he pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “I’d like you to sit for me.”
The idea had hit him as he lay watching her sleep. She was beautiful and he wanted a memento to remember her by.
Her eyes widened with surprise. “You want to carve me?”
He nodded once. “In the nude, if that’s okay.”
Her brows shot up into her hairline, but one side of her mouth hitched. “Nude?”
“Do you mind?” He wasn’t sure he could explain i
t if he had to. Each carving represented something, some bit of pain. She was a bright spot, and he wanted something that would serve as proof that she’d once been his.
She grinned full out now and swirled a pointed finger over his chest. “And exactly where will this carving go?”
He winked. “In my bedroom, of course.”
Desire flared in her eyes, and just that fast, he was hard again, his cock pressing painfully against his zipper. Her warm hands slid up his chest like a seductive caress as she pressed her curves into him, lifted onto her toes, and leaned so close her lips brushed his as she spoke. “Shower with me first.”
He groaned as the last of his willpower snapped. He untied the sash of her robe—because he was dying to know what, if anything, she wore beneath it—and pulled the sides open.
“Christ. You’re still naked.” His hands gained a mind of their own, seeking out all that warm, supple skin.
“And you’re not.” She shivered, her hands trembling as she slid them down his chest and belly to the button on his jeans. One tug and she had them open. A flick of her wrist and the zipper went with it. When she slid her hand inside, warm, soft fingers curling around his erection, he cursed under his breath.
He dropped his head back and closed his eyes. “Have mercy, doll.”
Just as quickly, she pulled away and took his hand instead. He opened his eyes in time for her to tug him away from the counter.
He shook his head. “Lauren…breakfast…”
“Will wait.” She shot a coy smile over her shoulder, and for a moment he could only follow in stunned silence as she led him down the hallway into the bathroom. Once there, she released his hand and moved to the shower to start the water.
Then she faced him, that smoky gaze pinned on his as she slid the robe from her shoulders, where it pooled at her feet. She let him look a moment before crossing the small space with a seductive sashay of her hips. Apparently taking no prisoners, she didn’t wait for him to finish undressing, but gripped the waistband of his jeans and boxers, taking them with her as she knelt at his feet.
