by JM Stewart
When she peered up at him, he nearly came. Lauren Hayes was kneeling at his damn feet, eye to eye, as it were, with his throbbing erection. It didn’t help that she leaned in and drew her tongue up his length.
When she pushed to her feet again, he growled low in his throat and hooked her around the waist, tugging her against him. Her naked body hit his, trapping his aching cock against the lush softness of her belly, but he managed to somehow hold on to himself and instead nipped at her bottom lip. “Tease. You sure are feeling your oats this morning.”
Lauren froze, that sassiness fading. Her eyes widened in uncertainty. “When I woke without you this morning, I decided to come find you and drag you back to bed.”
He dropped his forehead to hers. She slayed him. She honestly did. In two seconds flat, she had him on his knees at her feet. “I’m sorry. I just needed a little time to myself this morning.”
Her warm palm settled against his chest. “You didn’t sleep well.”
He drew and released a heavy breath. “Same damn dream. It’s like waking up in the hospital that first time all over again. I’m always disoriented, and then there you were. I’m not sure I can tell you how much I needed you this morning.”
She sifted her fingers through the hair on his chest, voice low, soothing, understanding. “I wouldn’t have stopped you. I would’ve welcomed it.”
His head rocked against hers. “I couldn’t have been gentle with you. Not then.”
He’d ached to roll on top of her and sink into her, to surround himself in everything about her. Her musky, flowery perfume, her silky heat, her soft bare curves. But it would have been hard and fast and brutal. He wouldn’t have been able to restrain himself. His need right then had been too great. One touch from her always seemed to right his world again, and he’d needed to immerse himself in her.
To fuck her until he stopped feeling like he was coming apart at the seams, because in her arms he was beginning to feel…whole again.
“I won’t use you that way.”
“You’re too much of a gentleman for your own good, Trent.” She pressed a kiss to his chest, then stepped back and took his hand, turning to the shower. “Come on. I have just the thing for you.”
He stepped out of his jeans and boxers, leaving them on the floor, and she pulled him into the shower with her, then shut the glass doors. She pushed him back beneath the warm spray, and for a moment, stood looking at him. She made him feel transparent, and what she saw didn’t seem to scare her a damn bit.
Lauren leaned over, picking up a bottle of body wash he was sure would make him smell like a woman all day, and squirted some onto her palm. She rubbed her hands together, then spread the soap over his chest, down his belly. He stood, caught in her eyes, watching her, enjoying the simple glide of her soft hands over him. When she slid those soapy fingers around his length, his knees nearly buckled from under him.
“Fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut, his blood roaring in his ears, his entire body trembling.
She pressed her breasts into his chest, her whisper-soft breaths teasing his lips. “What do you need?”
He clenched his jaw until he was sure his teeth would crack. “You.”
“That’s not what I asked.” She leaned closer, her voice an intimate whisper as she leaned her mouth to his ear. “Let me help. Tell me what you need.”
The tenderness in her voice sapped the last of his reserves. He braced his hands on the shower wall behind her and dropped his forehead onto her shoulder. “Hard and fast. Don’t be gentle.”
Her slippery hands began to move then. Lauren didn’t pull any punches, either, but did exactly as he’d asked—tightened her grip and pumped her hand. She leaned her cheek against his head, her voice a vulnerable, tender murmur in his ear. She was panting as hard as he was. “Like this?”
All he could do was grunt in acknowledgment, because her hands hadn’t stopped moving. His orgasm slammed into him from out of nowhere, and he came with a low growl that felt torn from deep within.
When it ended, he could only stand for a moment, dragging in oxygen. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Thank you.”
True to her generous nature, she gave him a tender smile and stroked his cheek. “You’re welcome. Being human is allowed, you know.”
He gripped her face in his hands, telling her everything he couldn’t find the words to say by sealing his mouth over hers. He kissed her harder than he probably should have, but she flat-out fucking amazed him, and he could think of only one way to show her.
When they finally parted, they were both breathless. Determined to make it up to her, he squirted a generous amount of soap in his hands, rubbed them together, and went about washing her. Over her shoulders and down her arms. Over her belly and hips and around to her ass. He paid particular attention to her breasts, massaging them in his palms, stroking her tightened nipples.
Then he turned her to face the opposite direction, pulled her back against him, and slid his hand between her thighs. With one hand on a breast, playing with her nipple, he slipped his fingers of the other hand into her hot folds.
She let out a blissful sigh and dropped her head back on his shoulder, already shivering. He bent his head to her neck, kissing her throat, her shoulder, any part of her he could reach, all the while stroking her swollen clit. Every caress had her going more and more limp against him, until she was shaking and panting and pushing against the press of his fingers.
When she finally erupted, she let out a soft cry that simultaneously filled his soul and made him want to beat his chest. Her knees buckled, and he gripped her waist hard, supporting her as he continued to caress her, desperate to make the pleasure last as long as he could for her.
She finally went limp against him and let out a breathless laugh, her hand gripping his hard. “God. Thank you.”
He chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Just returning the favor. You want to know why I want to carve you? Because you amaze me. Spend the day with me. We’ll go over to my place, and you can lie naked on my sofa while I carve you. Then maybe you’ll be lunch.”
She shivered. “I like that idea. Can you do it all in one day?”
“I doubt it. But I can probably get your general shape down. I’d like to take pictures, too, if that’s all right.”
She twisted at the waist, peering over her shoulder at him. One dark brow arched in bemusement. “You want naked pictures of me.”
He chuckled. “To use as a guide after you go home. Unless you want to sit naked on my sofa until I’m finished?”
Mischief glinted in her eyes. “If you promise to make me come like that again when you’re done, I’d sit there a whole damn week.”
He brushed his mouth over hers. “Then it’s a date.”
Chapter Twelve
Posing in the nude had to be the most erotic thing she’d ever done. Also the most nerve-racking. An hour later, Lauren stood naked as the day she was born in the center of Trent’s living room. Her nerves were shot. Every limb shook.
After drying each other off and getting dressed, they’d finished breakfast before making their way to his apartment on the other side of town. Upon arriving at his place, he’d set up his workbench, which sat on the far-right wall of the living room, and laid a flat, three-foot-by-five-foot piece of wood on the surface. Then he’d asked her to undress.
He now studied her with intense scrutiny, as if she were a work of art. She supposed she was to him at this moment, but his gaze seemed to penetrate, made her skin tingle and her stomach do somersaults. Undressing in front of him when they were intimate, distracted by his wandering hands and heady kisses, was one thing. Watching him dissect her bits and parts was another entirely.
She twisted her hands together. “Where do you want me?”
His gaze finally refocused on hers. Those blue eyes searched her face for a moment before he crossed the space between them, hooked her around the waist, and pulled her close.
“Don’t be nervous. It’s ju
st me.” He caressed the back of his fingers along her cheek and inclined his head, indicating behind her. “Lie down on the sofa and get comfortable. I’ve turned the heat up a bit, but if you get cold or you just need a break, let me know, okay?”
She nodded, and he brushed his mouth over hers, then released her and stepped back. She tried to do as he asked, to find a position that made her feel sexy, but all she felt was awkward and way too aware of her every imperfection. “Like this?”
“Relax, doll.” He dropped to his knees beside her and bent his head to her breast, enveloping the puckered tip in the warmth of his mouth.
Pleasure flooded over the surface of her skin and Lauren gasped, arching her back. Seeming to know exactly what she wanted and needed, he cupped her in his palm, massaging and kneading and suckling. In seconds flat, he had her shivering, her thighs spreading, the ache in her core building to unbearable proportions.
What she wanted—needed—was his fingers back between her thighs, stroking and exploring…
She shifted her restless legs over the sofa, tried to arch her hips to make some sort of contact. “Touch me. Please.”
Trent pulled away instead, sat back on his heels and scanned her body.
“Much better.” He tapped her lips with his index finger. “Now don’t move.”
Then he rose to his feet and returned to his workbench.
She sagged into the cushions and playfully glared at his back. “Tease.”
He chuckled and picked up a tool, then twisted at the waist, peering back at her with that intense, focused gaze. “Seriously. Stay just like that. I promise I’ll make it up to you, but I wanted you to relax.”
He was right, though. Damn him. It worked. Her nervousness was gone. Except now she was wet, and her clit throbbed. Well, two could play at that game.
Taking her cues from him, she ran the tips of her fingers around her nipples, idly circling them. His nostrils flared, and Trent drew a deep breath, his gaze glued to her fingers. So she cupped her breasts in her hands and massaged them the way he had. Glancing down his body, Lauren watched a distinctive bulge form behind his zipper.
She hoped he’d come back and finish what he’d started. Instead, Trent cocked his head to the side, studying her as if suddenly seeing her differently. After a moment, he nodded. “Touch yourself.”
Her heartbeat skipped. It took all of two seconds for her to realize what, exactly, he meant. “Surely you aren’t going to carve that.”
He returned to the sofa and dropped to his knees beside her. His gaze traveled her body, his hand following, caressing her curves. Over her belly. Down her hip. Along the front of her left thigh. “You’re beautiful, and your little display there inspired me. Close your eyes. What’s your favorite fantasy?”
Every inch of her tingled in response, her skin coming alive beneath his touch. The answer to his question was too easy. “You. Watching you stroke your cock.”
Oh yeah, she’d said that word on purpose. She’d noted his reaction the last time she’d said it, the surprised, hungry gleam in his eyes. If he planned to torture her, she’d get hers.
He groaned and leaned down, capturing her mouth, a luscious tangle of lips and tongues and softly biting teeth. Just enough to make her want. To make her arch her back, desperate for him to touch her again.
Like last time, though, Trent pulled back. “I had plans to bury my mouth between your thighs when I was done, but all right. Do this for me, and I’ll let you watch again.”
The thought made her clit pulse in delicious anticipation. Her hands wandered down her stomach, slipping into her drenched folds. She caressed her aching clit with the tip of a finger, enough to light her body on fire. To tease him. “Let me watch now.”
She hoped he’d cave. She should have known better.
While a bonfire lit in those gorgeous eyes, Trent turned his mouth to her ear, soft lips she knew damn well felt incredible between her thighs teasing her skin as he spoke. “Make yourself come, Lauren. I want to capture that, how fucking beautiful you are when you relax and let yourself go.”
The husky tone of his voice had her body liquefying and melting into the sofa cushions. She couldn’t deny him if she tried. Giving in, she nodded, and he brushed a soft kiss across her mouth.
“Thank you.” He pushed to his feet and returned to his bench.
Lauren closed her eyes and immersed herself in the fantasy. The memory of his hand on his stiff member. How long and beautiful he was. The sounds of his arousal. The scent of it that filled the air. Every image that flooded her mind took her back to that moment, and her fingers flew in a desperate rush for relief over her aroused flesh. Despite that she was naked, heat erupted along her skin. Her breathing increased, her blood roaring in her ears.
When she reached the part of the memory where he’d thrown his head back and growled as he came, her orgasm slammed into her. Her back arched, and she cried out, her hips bucking into her hand as intense pleasure flooded through her.
“Fuck.”
Trent’s quiet curse came seconds before his mouth settled over hers. His kiss was hard and desperate, his tongue restless in her mouth, demanding a response. When she was pliant and willing and lifting off the sofa to get more of him, he released her and leaned back.
Lauren opened her eyes. Trent knelt beside the sofa, his eyes heavy-lidded and burning through her, breaths as harsh and erratic as her own. The silent acknowledgment moved between them, and she nodded. He gripped her hands and tugged her to her feet, moving down the hallway to his bedroom with long determined strides.
He halted at the foot of his bed and gripped her face in his hands, his mouth coming down on hers, hot and hungry. For a brief moment it became all about that luscious tangle of lips and tongues. Lauren wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself as close as she could and rubbing her nipples against his chest for the sweet friction.
Just as suddenly as he’d kissed her, Trent released her. He reached back over his shoulder and yanked off his T-shirt, dropping it to the floor at his feet. She helped him out of his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, then sinking into a crouch as she pulled them down his legs.
He stepped out of them, leaving them wadded on the floor, and pulled her onto the bed with him. He stared at her as she lay on his chest, eyes full of fire. “Straddle me.”
His hoarse demand sent a wave of heat straight through her. She nodded, braced her hands on his chest, and pushed upright. Thighs on either side of him now, her core settled over the length of his erection as she sat back on his hips.
“Just like this.” His large, warm hands slid up her thighs to cup her ass, his hips rocking beneath her, showing her what he wanted. His thick erection slid along her slippery cleft, nudging her now-super-sensitive clit.
Lauren moaned, her eyes closing. Her thighs trembled as pleasure erupted through her. “Oh God, that’s good.”
Trent swore under his breath, his fingers digging into her hips as he set a hard and fast rhythm. She thrust against him in turn, grinding and sliding along his length. The sounds of their pleasure filled the room. His harsh breathing. The quiet moans she couldn’t have contained if she tried. Their bodies surged together, pushing against each other, desperate for relief from the fire they’d created in each other.
Another orgasm exploded over her, and Lauren gasped, shaking and jerking as the luscious spasms took her. Beneath her Trent stiffened, thrust against her one last time, then held her firmly in place and groaned from deep within his chest.
She collapsed on top of him. Every limb shook, this time from exhaustion and satiation. Their harsh, erratic breathing filled the otherwise silent room, chests heaving as each attempted to drag in much-needed oxygen. Lauren pressed her face into his neck, immersed herself in his scent, and let it wash over her. Trent banded his arms around her back and turned his head, pressing his cheek to hers.
How long they lay that way, she didn’t know, but neither moved. Lauren couldn’t find the will.
A connection spawned between them in that moment she couldn’t deny or ignore. He held her too tightly, and she had no desire to put any distance between them. The longer she lay there, the more the realization settled over her.
“I don’t want to wait.” She murmured the words into his neck but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. If he denied her, she couldn’t bear to see the regret fill his eyes. “If all I have is two more weeks with you like this, I want it all. I want to spend every night making love to you, and I want to wake up beside you every morning. No more slow. No more waiting. If we’re going to continue this, we need to go all out or it needs to end here.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart thudding in painful anticipation of his denial. His excuse. His half-hearted reasons why he needed distance. She was falling in love with him, and she couldn’t do it anymore. If she was losing her heart to him, she wanted all of him in return. When the two weeks were over, she’d let him go.
“Agreed.” He turned his head, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Your place or mine?”
Lauren lifted her head. She hadn’t expected him to say that.
He gave her a gentle smile, his hands caressing her back. “I can’t deny I want the same thing, but the rest of the deal still stands. In two weeks this ends.” His hands stilled on her back, his expression solemn. “I won’t lose you.”
She stroked his cheek, enjoying the soft scrape of his stubble against her fingertips. “Who says you will?”
Her heart swelled and ached at the same time. The thought of going back to being just a friend to him made her sick to her stomach. Beyond a shadow of a doubt it would break her heart. Who’d have thought it? Her first love would be a man she’d known for most of her life. A man she’d have to continue to see.
She’d just have to deal with it, though. She wasn’t stupid enough to think he could love her back. He’d just told her as much.
Neither could she regret spending this time with him. She’d treasure it.
Trent blinked at her for a moment before his expression went carefully impassive. He lay silent. She didn’t have to ask to know he’d drawn into himself, that he likely wouldn’t tell her what he was thinking, and like every other time, it created distance between them. It had never bothered her before, because it had always been about the war. The memories that haunted him. This time it seemed to be a reaction to their conversation. After everything they’d just shared, it became a side of him she couldn’t reach.
