The Best Kind of Trouble

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The Best Kind of Trouble Page 7

by Lauren Dane


  He kissed his way across her shoulder until he’d come to face her again. “Is it?”

  “The ink is for me. No one needs to know about it unless I want them to. I don’t need everyone to see it or know about it to enjoy it.”

  He unmoored the top button of her jeans and slid the zipper down. Panties the same color pink as the roses on her body.

  “I wanted to look at you the other night on my boat when we skinny-dipped, but I didn’t want to scare you away.”

  He shoved her jeans down, and she stepped from them. Then she turned slowly, her ass tipped slightly toward him. She slid her fingertips over the red bows that were inked at the tops of her thighs. “I believe you were asking about these.” It wasn’t until she looked at him back over her shoulder that his control slipped. He dropped to his knees to get a better look.

  He caressed up her legs to that spot where each bow lived. Gooseflesh rose, beading her skin as he breathed over it, and she squeaked prettily when he licked each one.

  “You taste good.”

  She moaned, fisting her hands at her sides.

  He hooked his fingers at the sides of her underpants and pulled them down, spinning her once she’d stepped free to face him, gloriously naked.

  “I’m naked, and you have your pants on still.” Her voice was breathy again, and it made him smile.

  “I know. How fucking lucky am I?” He lifted enough to lick over the ink at her hip, his body warming when she held his head to her, her fingers cradling his skull.

  “You could be even luckier if your pants were off.”

  “That’ll come soon enough.” He licked her belly, circling her belly button. “First you need to come and then we’ll move to step two.” He stood and walked her back to the couch, a push to get her seated again. He put a pillow on the floor and knelt on it. “Don’t worry, the pillow can stay for when it’s your turn to be on your knees.”

  Dear God, he was going to melt her. Her bones and muscles and skin were just going to drip into a puddle of wordless, turned-on goo at his feet.

  He kissed the inside of each knee and then up her thighs, pushing them wide. She didn’t have time to worry or be embarrassed or hesitant. He moved quickly, licking through her until her breath came out as a stutter.

  “You like that?” He spoke, his lips against her labia. Enough that she felt his smile, and it sent a shiver through her.

  “What’s not to like?” she managed to say but felt like her tongue was three sizes too big for her mouth.

  Maybe one of the reasons he was a lead singer was that he was really good with his mouth. Like stellar fantastic. He’d been good before, but clearly, he’d been practicing on a few women in the interim.

  He teased her until her thigh muscles trembled. There was something so delicious about the way he held her thighs wide, the strength in his forearms as he held her open and down at the same time, the slight callus to his fingers—forbidden and dark and oh, so good.

  He changed his pace. Slow, with licks with the flat of his tongue, fast, hard flicks with the tip of his tongue against her clit. He drove her to the edge, and then he pulled back over and over until she was a trembly, sweaty mess.

  “If you don’t let me come, I’m going to take over and do it myself!”

  He pulled back, nipping the inside of her thigh. “I’d love to see that. But right now, your orgasm is in my hands, and you’ll get it when I want you to have it.”

  She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to muster up outrage, but it never came.

  He waited, brow raised. “Nothing to say? Good.”

  He bent and got back to work. But this time he didn’t tease her. He kept a relentless rhythm that sent her spiraling into climax so hard, she saw stars.

  When she managed to open her eyes, she found him resting his chin on her thigh, smiling.

  “Someone learned more than a few new chords out on the road.”

  He burst out laughing.

  “Just when I think I’ve got you figured out.”

  He got to his knees, and his hands went to his top button on his jeans. She sighed happily. “Finally.”

  “I’m sensing a theme here. You’re impatient when there’s something you want in view.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror?”

  He stood, slowly dragging the zipper down, each click of the teeth nearly a drumbeat in her head.

  “I have to laugh at that comment when you’re spread out on my couch like the most luscious piece of cake a man ever saw.”

  He was a ruthless flatterer.

  “Doughnut may be more apt.”

  He laughed again as he pushed his jeans down his legs, along with shorts.

  “I see you wore underwear today.”

  “I do from time to time. How did you know I didn’t?”

  His cock tapped his belly, it was so hard. The belly was hard, too. She sighed her pleasure at the sight of him. “You and I went naked swimming just a few days ago. A gal notices things like that.”

  He was tall. Hale and hearty. She cocked her head, taking him in. Flat, hard muscle covered his body. It was a testament to living on a ranch she supposed, but damn, he looked good. Both of his nipples were pierced; silver bars running through each. He had a number of tattoos, far more than he’d had before.

  “Wait.” She got to her feet, wildly flattered by the way he looked at her.

  “I’d rather leap on you.” He leaned in and took a deep breath at her neck, kissing her there.

  “You looked at my ink, I want to look at yours. Then you can leap. Though I’d really like to get this—” she grabbed his cock, squeezing it “—in my mouth first.”

  He groaned. “Hurry up, then.”

  She looked at the owl, wings stretched across his back and the muscles of his shoulders. There were subtle shadings of red and green here and there on its feathers. Masculine and yet, still focused on the inherent beauty of flight and the feathers. “This is fantastic work.”

  “Thanks. It’s relatively new. A friend of my sister-in-law runs a tattoo shop in Seattle. He’s a freaking genius.”

  On his right biceps, he had a tattoo of a wing; there was another on the left. “What bird is this?”

  “Peregrine falcon.”

  “Birds, huh?”

  On his hips he had musical notes. “First gold record, Try Me. On the left is first double platinum, Ride.”

  “I love that one.”

  “You listen to our music?”

  “Hard not to. You’re sort of a big deal. And you’re good.”

  He had a labyrinth on his right thigh.

  “It’s one I walked at a really hard time in my life. Whenever things get bad or overwhelming, I just look down.”

  He got to her and she was past freaking out over it. His charisma scared her without a doubt. But she was charmed, and she wanted more.

  She kissed his shoulder, and he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  “I have condoms right there in that little table. I think you should grab one and then ride me. Right here. Right now.”

  She raised a brow as she looked at the table he indicated.

  “I just put them there earlier today because I live in hope. It’s not my fuck-company table or anything.”

  It was exactly the right thing to say. She pushed him back to sit on the couch before grabbing a condom. But she didn’t use it right then.

  “First things first.” She put the pillow between his feet and he grinned.

  “Oh, that. Well, I’m not going to argue with a really good idea.”

  She got to her knees, and he had to count to fifty to keep from blowing just from the sight of it. She licked up his thigh, her gaze locked on his, and he gulped at the carnality in it. She knew exactly what she was doing, which made it even hotter.

  This was a woman who owned what she wanted.

  This was the woman he’d been with years before.

  Then she licked up the line of his
cock, and he huffed out a breath, giving in to his desire to get his hands in her hair. He loved the cool softness of it against his skin. That her mouth was currently on his cock certainly didn’t make it worse.

  She teased him, taking her time. He’d been so eager to get inside her, he’d been in a blind rush. But this...this allowed him to wallow in the pleasure of the entire experience. She was doing to him what he’d done to her.

  Her taste had been so freaking good; the sounds she made had been so hot, he hadn’t wanted it to end. But it was the way her pupils had swallowed the color in her eyes when he’d told her he was in charge that had nearly killed him. She was so controlled, so in charge, he hadn’t been sure how she’d react to his tease.

  Her mouth was so hot and wet as she swirled her tongue around the head and took him so deep he grunted, his fingers tightening in her hair.

  She moaned around his cock, and it vibrated to his brain.

  He was torn. This was good. Like really, really good. She was a goddess here, her curves on display for him, those pretty blond curls bent over his lap, mouth on him. But he had been dreaming of being in her since he’d bumped into her at the café over a month before.

  Once she scored her nails over his balls, he made a choice. He urged her back with his hands on her shoulders. “Wait. Stop. I want in you.”

  She pulled off with a slight pop of sound and licked her lips. “You were in me.”

  He swallowed hard as he grabbed the condom, ripped it open with his teeth and rolled it on quickly. “Now I can be in your pussy. Come on and ride.”

  She scrambled, straddling his lap. One-handed, she reached back to hold him where she wanted, and then he nearly blacked out when she slowly lowered herself on him.

  “Jesus.” Orgasm clawed at his guts, and he pushed it back because there was no way he’d finally gotten here, inside this woman, to come in a minute like he was sixteen.

  She rocked back and forth, and he dug his fingertips into the muscles at her hips. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she moved.

  “Mmm, yes. More.”

  A demand.

  He held her down at her hips as he began to thrust up into her body, slow and steady. Staying deep.

  The light was on in the hallway behind her so it glowed around her body as she moved. So beautiful, this woman.

  He let go of her hip with one hand to cup one of her breasts, taking the weight in his palm before pinching and tugging her nipple until her head tipped back, her mouth, still swollen from his kisses and his cock, opened on a sigh laced with desire.

  Her inner muscles gripped him and fluttered, and he nearly lost his mind. He held on, not wanting the moment to end. The scent of her skin, of her sex and desire rose and grasped nearly as tightly as her body did.

  He slid the hand at her hip between them, finding her clit swollen and ready. She hissed. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. Come on, let me make you come again.”

  “I just did.” But her voice had gone deeper as he began to lightly slide the pad of his finger back and forth over her clit.

  “I really need to come, Nat. But I won’t until you do. Do it for me.” He grinned, and she groaned, moving to lean her head on his shoulder.

  “Is that your version of do it for America? Or just the tip?”

  Startled, he snorted a laugh until her body tightened around his, and she bit his shoulder hard as she came. He snarled, pulling her down on him, holding her in place as he pushed deep, as hard and deep as he could and followed her.

  He kept his arms around her until he had to get up. He carefully settled her back on the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

  She pulled a throw over herself, snuggling against the pillows.

  In front of the mirror in the adjacent bathroom, he stared at himself as he washed his hands. He wore a flush on his skin. Not the first time. Not even the first time with her.

  But things were different somehow because he wasn’t thinking about how he’d get her out the door. He couldn’t get the sight of her all naked and curled up on his couch out of his head.

  He wanted more of that. More of sleepy, relaxed Natalie Clayton in his house and in his life.

  He didn’t want to splash water on his face to snap out of his little fantasy. Because he didn’t want her off his skin.

  He forced himself to do it. He didn’t know why he was acting like a fuck-drunk dumbass but he needed to snap out of it.

  “Hey.” She smiled up at him when he came back into the room.

  “Hey, yourself. You should sleep over.” He wanted to punch himself for blurting that out.

  “I can’t. I have to work tomorrow.”

  Oh. Well. He should be glad. Women stole covers, and if you let them sleep over they assumed stuff. She was doing him a favor.

  But he found himself saying, “I have an alarm clock. Believe me, things get started early on a ranch. I’ll make you breakfast even.”

  She stood, the blanket she’d been using fell away, and he had to step closer to touch all that pretty, naked skin. She leaned into his touch briefly, tiptoeing up to kiss him.

  “Offers of breakfast are always appreciated. But I really do need to go home.”

  “Fine, fine. Deprive me of sleepy, warm woman for morning sex.”

  She snorted a laugh and then moved away, getting dressed.

  “You’re going home now?”

  “Well, I got what I wanted. I’m going home to notch my bedpost. Where I record all my wild sexual encounters with celebrities and stuff. See you around.”

  He blew a raspberry. “Be sure to mark two notches.”

  She grinned. “I’ll do that. Should I bring you a gold star the next time I see you?”

  He hugged her again because he could, and because he would see her again. And because she made him smile so much.

  “As long as it’s not an edible one.”

  She snorted and swatted his butt.

  After she’d gone, he’d gone to his bed to read awhile before going to sleep. Her scent rose from his skin, and when he woke up the next day, the faint stamp of her presence was still on his hands.

  CHAPTER NINE

  NATALIE WALKED OUT of work at the end of her day, and he was waiting, leaning against his car, legs stretched out. It had been a week since she’d had dinner at his place and the sight of him, long legs encased in denim, was just what her day had needed.

  “Hey, you. I was thinking we could go and get some dinner. What do you say?”

  “I have laundry to do.”

  He started, clearly confused by her refusal.

  “Did you just turn down a date for washing clothes?”

  She patted his arm. “No. You showed up unannounced and asked me to dinner. I already had plans to wash my clothes.”

  He frowned. “How about if we have dinner at your house so you can do your laundry? Work with me here. I have doughnuts.”

  She was going to gain ten pounds if he kept doing that. But, hello, doughnuts.

  “Follow me to my house. We have a funky driveway so pull in behind me so Tuesday can get in when she gets home.”

  She ducked his kiss and headed to her car with a wave. Once she’d gotten her belt done, and she was on the way home, she allowed herself a smile at how handsome he’d been and how flattered she was.

  He made her belly flutter. Belly fluttering was vastly underrated.

  Tuesday wasn’t home when they arrived. She’d left a note for Natalie on the fridge that she’d headed up to Olympia to see her family and would be back Sunday night.

  Natalie hung her stuff up. “Tuesday won’t be here. She left a note saying she’d be away for the weekend. She’ll be sorry she missed meeting you.”

  While he wanted to meet this Tuesday she talked about so much, Paddy wasn’t going to complain at having her all to himself.

  “Bummer. Well, next time.”

  “Come on through, then.”

  Paddy walked through her kitchen, the fl
oorboards creaking in a way he’d always thought of as welcoming. “Wow. This is beautiful.”

  She smiled at him, and he was instantly glad he’d said it. Truly, the place couldn’t have been more opposite of his home. It was old-fashioned and fancy in places he’d deliberately chosen to be clean and simple in.

  But someone had clearly put in the time to restore it to its Victorian glory, but it was also inherently comfortable and homey, too.

  “It looks a little bit like layer cake outside, but in here, it’s more casual. Lived in.” The kitchen windows let in a lot of light and gave a view of a backyard with a pretty garden and seating area.

  “Thank you.”

  He stepped closer and slid his arms around her. She melted against him, snuggling against his body. He kissed the top of her head, and she tipped back so he could get to that mouth.

  It had been a week since he’d seen her last. It was...odd; he had to admit to himself that she seemed just fine with her life and with his intermittent place in it.

  He kissed her long and slow, enjoying her taste.

  “Give me a tour?”

  “Sure. I don’t have a home theater, though. We only have two televisions, one in my room and one in Tuesday’s.”

  “Are you trying to get me in your bedroom?”

  She laughed. “I have to do laundry. I wasn’t lying. But there’s time after I get the first load started.”

  He swept her into another hug. “You know, you could just have more clothes, or do laundry more often. Are you a procrastinator?” He might have pegged the Natalie he knew before as a woman who waited until the last minute to do laundry, but this one? Not so much.

  “I have a presentation tomorrow afternoon that I just learned about today. I need to wash clothes for that. I have clean stuff, but this is important, so I need to look professional, and I have exactly one professional outfit for that sort of thing.”

  “Okay, so let’s get that in the wash. I was going to take you to Nora’s for dinner. How about I call in an order to go? I’ll go pick it up and maybe a bottle of wine, too?”

  “All right.”

  He followed her through the house and up a set of stairs. “This is my side of the upstairs. Tuesday has the other side. Her stairs are back in the kitchen, but there’s also a landing that connects both sides where we have a little reading loft.”

 

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