by Lolita Lopez
Slow and Easy: Tales of Sensual Erotica
Lolita Lopez
Published by Lolita Lopez
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Lolita Lopez
Lolita Lopez.com
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Sparks
Indecent
Fireworks
Spurs
Be Our Valentine Excerpt
About The Author
SPARKS
Chapter One
With a lazy flick of her wrist, Bibiana swished the tip of her paintbrush in a glass of water. Soft pink tendrils of pigment bloomed in the clear liquid. Head tilted, she studied her painting and subject, her eyes skipping from the canvas to the vase of peonies. A warm gust carried the smells and sounds of a late summer afternoon, of honeysuckle and barbecues and children dashing through sprinklers. Her skirt fluttered against her calves. The porch swing to her left rocked slowly back and forth.
As she blotted her paintbrush on a paper napkin, the sound of an approaching vehicle drew her attention. Her pulse raced at the sight of Logan’s silver truck slowly rolling down their street. Window down, sandy hair ruffled by the wind, he waved at the Olsens as they tended their flowerbeds and the elderly Ramos couple idly sipping iced tea on their front porch.
And then he turned into his driveway and flashed that easy smile at her. Bibi’s tummy clenched. Seven days he’d been deep sea fishing with buddies. Seven days she’d missed that mischievous grin, their playful banter over their shared picket fence, and those oh-so-corny eye-roll inducing jokes Logan liked to tell. And his scent! That piquant blend of citrus and spice.
Sitting back, Bibi watched him unload a battered duffel bag and fishing supplies. Her eyes trained on the faded jeans hugging his taut backside. Unable to stop herself, she imagined slipping her hands into those back pockets and whispering in his ear, telling him all the dirty little things she’d fantasized doing to him.
Would he balk at her advance? Give her the usual line about ruining friendships with sex? Or would he drag her inside and fuck her right there, up against his living room wall, as she’d imagined so many times before? She couldn’t chance it so, for now, she’d lust from afar.
As Logan started into his house, he turned to face her. Again, he grinned at her, his green eyes bright from his well-deserved R&R. She gave a friendly wave and smile. He winked and went on about his business. Her face fell slightly as he disappeared into his home.
Suddenly feeling less inspired, Bibi packed up her paints and canvas and moved inside her house. She side-stepped the boxes of tile, plumbing and construction supplies littering her living room. Months of living amid renovation had made her immune to these little annoyances. Such were the joys of owning a historical home.
Bibi dropped her armload on the kitchen table and looked around, at a loss for what to do next. She considered eating an early dinner but food wasn’t what she craved at the moment. She wanted Logan, naked and between her thighs. She could just feel his lips on her neck, his rough hands against her skin. Her face flushed at the image that streaked across her brain.
No, she didn’t want dinner. She wanted a shower and a little personal time.
Bibi locked her front door and scurried upstairs. The second her feet touched the hardwood floors of her bedroom, she started peeling off clothing and dropping it haphazardly. She strode to her shower, flung back the curtain, and lifted the lever. Wincing in anticipation of an ungodly racket, she slowly turned the shower knob toward hot. Pipes clanged and shook as water snaked its way through the ancient plumbing. The shower head vibrated and sputtered before spewing water. She warily eyed the shower head, wondering whether or not it would survive yet another shower.
She just couldn’t wait for the plumber and his crew to start their work. Two more days, Bibi. Just two more days…
Moving away from the tub, Bibi opened the linen closet and grabbed a towel. She snatched a hair clip from the counter and secured her hair in a loose bun. With an outstretched hand, she tested the water’s temperature. Satisfied, she slipped her towel over the bar which badly needed replacing and stepped into the tub. She tugged the curtain closed, and for a long moment, she simply stood beneath the warm spray of water.
Lightly scented body wash foamed as she kneaded a pouf between her hands. With slow swipes, she pulled the lathered pouf across her wet skin, reveling in the silky sensation of the soap. She rinsed the pouf and hung it on a shower caddy hook. Eyes closed, she allowed her hands to slide down her soap-slicked sides, to follow the curve of her hips and snake along her tummy. She imagined Logan standing just behind her, his fingers gripping her waist, his thick cock pressed against her backside.
Teething her plump lower lip, she slipped her fingers into the foamy curls of her sex. Her clit jumped at the first sensation of her slippery fingertips gliding across the pink nub. A soft whimper escaped her lips. Bibi’s hips angled as her fingers slid between her folds, petting, penetrating. She thrust two fingers into her creamy core, moving them slowly in and out as her mind conjured visions of Logan kneeling before her, his fingers in her pussy, his tongue on her clit.
Legs shaking, she leaned her forehead against the wet tile for support. Her free hand squeezed her breast, pinching and rolling the overly sensitive nipple. Desperate to come, she moved her hand down her sudsy front until her fingers found her clit. Rubbing tight circles with one hand, Bibi continued fucking her slick cunt with the second.
Her hips rolled and rocked. Quaking breaths shook her body. Her lower tummy tightened as ecstasy built between her legs. Hot and pulsing, it demanded her full attention. Like a tightly coiled spring, it exploded deep within her, taking her breath away. Her lips against the tile, she fought to remain upright as her orgasm rippled through her. “Logan!”
Still trembling, Bibi gently removed her fingers. The shower spray rinsed away the shiny juices clinging to her skin as she stood still, cheek and hands pressed to the tile. Feeling ever so relaxed, Bibi faced the shower head, letting the warm stream wash away the remaining suds. She reached down and twisted the shower knob, fully expecting the oh-so-irritating knock of water hammer—but nothing happened. Forehead wrinkling, Bibi turned the knob some more. To her shock, the knob spun loosely in a full revolution.
“Great,” she groused. “Just fucking wonderful.” She tried the lever controlling the flow of water to the shower head but it did absolutely nothing. Before she could try the knob again, the shower head started to rattle crazily. With just a second to spare, Bibi turned her back. The shower head popped off its pipe and smacked her shoulder. Water exploded in the cramped confines of her shower.
“Mierda!” Bibi scrambled from the tub. An explosive stream of tepid water sprayed everywhere. Not knowing what else to do, Bibi grabbed her robe from its peg and scurried from the bathroom in search of help.
*
A cold beer clamped in his hand, Logan relaxed in his favorite leather chair. His mind reeled with thoughts of Bibi. It seemed she was forever in the forefront of his mind. Never before had he suffered through such an infatuation and try as he might, he couldn’t shake her from his thoughts. He’d hoped a week with friends would cure his obsession but even t
hat proved futile.
Nope. There was no avoiding the truth. He was right and truly fucked when it came to Bibi.
Sometimes he wished he’d never answered the phone that rainy April day almost fifteen months ago, that he’d never agreed to provide an estimate for replacing the entire electrical system in that rundown building she’d purchased in downtown Houston. Even now, all these months later, he could still remember exactly how she looked, how she smelled, how she smiled when he’d met her.
Standing barefoot in a puddle of water, her jeans rolled up around her calves, Bibi had been arguing with the roofing contractor. Logan had been amused and awed by the curvy little spitfire. He’d often worked with Jimmy, the roofer, and knew all too well his tendencies to skimp on materials and skirt building codes. To say he’d been impressed by Bibi’s ability to wrangle a second roofing job, free of charge, from tightwad Jimmy was the understatement of the year.
When she’d turned to face him, Bibi had taken his breath away. That caramel skin, those warm whisky eyes, those kissable lips… As she’d given him a tour of the sizable building, he’d just itched to unclasp the plastic claw holding her hair prisoner, to run his fingers through those gorgeous brown waves.
Before he’d given her the estimate, Logan had confessed he considered her project—to modify the old building into an upscale art gallery and studio space—a bit overreaching. She’d just shrugged. “I know it’s a dump, but it’s got potential. And I’m determined.”
That infectious tenacity had grabbed hold of him. Logan and his small crew worked their asses off to bring the wiring up to code and to install all the sophisticated lighting she’d wanted. In the end, Bibi did exactly as she’d promised. The Belle Mélange made quite a splash with its first showcase of unknown but extraordinarily talented Houston artists. Even with the down economy, she found a way to keep art moving in and out of her gallery. The diverse classes taught by Bibi and her small coterie of artistic friends kept a steady stream of income pouring into the business.
Bibi just amazed Logan. Everything she attempted, she accomplished, maybe not the first time but always on the second or third attempt. Even with the house Bibi had purchased next door, the house he’d mentioned during the renovation of her gallery, she’d done wonders. Granted, it still required a good deal of work, but she’d see it through. She simply didn’t know how to fail.
Yet always having her so close to him and so utterly unavailable taxed his nerves. Logan desperately wanted Bibi but she was just too far out of his league. He was a college dropout; she’d graduated from Sarah Lawrence and then the Rhode Island School of Design. He’d never traveled beyond Texas, Louisiana, or Mexico; she’d studied in Italy and Germany and lived in Paris for a year. He came from a long line of roughnecks; Bibi’s father taught applied mathematics at MIT and her mother helped infertile couples as a reproductive endocrinologist.
Logan had seen the type of men Bibi dated: a professor, a lawyer, a writer, and a doctor. He couldn’t compare. And the thought of being shot down by her terrified him. He loved her too much to lose their friendship. So he watched and wanted and fantasized from afar.
And what fantasies he’d had. In him mind, Logan had run Bibi through a series of naughty moves that would have made Jenna Jameson blush. Heat streaked through his groin as he pictured Bibi in a particularly wicked position, her juicy cunt just inches from his lips, her legs—.
A frantic knock at the front door drew Logan’s attention. Frowning, he put down his beer and crossed the living room. He flipped the deadbolt and yanked open the door. The sight revealed brought a quirked smile to his mouth. Bibi, dripping wet and obviously perturbed, stood on his front porch in only her hot pink bathrobe.
Loving to needle her, he crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. “Well, well, well, Miss Velez.”
She rolled those beautiful brown eyes. “Mr. Weatherly.”
He slowly raked his gaze down her sopping wet form. “Didn’t I tell you that shower head was on its last leg?”
Bibi humphed in irritation. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Will you help me, Lo? Please?”
“Anything for you, Bibi.”
Chapter Two
Bibi stood in the doorway of her bathroom, her eyes glued to Logan’s backside. She couldn’t see what exactly he was doing since the hastily shoved aside shower curtain cloaked him from the waist up but she could hear his grunts and growls. Water soaked his dark blue tee. A litany of rather inventive curse word combinations echoed in the room. Short seconds later, the pipes clanged and the water flow halted.
“There.” Wrench in hand, Logan stood and slung water from his arms. “Temporary fix until the plumbers start on Monday.”
Grinning, Bibi clapped. “You’ve got mad plumbing skills, Lo.”
He chortled and wiped his forehead across a dry patch of t-shirt. “You seem surprised.”
“Electricity and water don’t mix well. I wouldn’t assume you’d come across many plumbing issues while working on wiring.”
“You’d be surprised,” Logan dryly replied. He carefully placed the wrench on the counter. Her gaze fixed on the wet fabric clinging to his rippled abs. He seemed to notice her stare. When he grasped the bottom of his tee and started to lift, Bibi’s heart fluttered. She got the tiniest glimpse of his tan belly and the top of his happy trail before he paused. “Where do you keep your towels?”
“What?” She glanced up guiltily. He repeated his question. “Oh.” She pointed to the linen closet before slowly retreating toward the door. “I’ll see if I can find a t-shirt big enough for you.”
Bibi hastily exited the bathroom. She rifled through her closet in search of the summer league softball tee she’d ordered in the wrong size. Red shirt in hand, she returned to the bathroom. She swallowed hard at the sight of Logan, naked from the waist up. Even in her wildest fantasies, his body didn’t look that good. Gorgeous tan skin, toned muscle, a smattering of hair, the occasional pale scar—she yearned to run her hands up and down his chest, to teethe his collarbone.
As if sensing her, Logan’s head popped up. He held her gaze for a moment longer than usual. She felt suddenly uneasy, almost guilty. Smiling, she extended the shirt and started toward him. Her bare foot hit a patch of water and slid across the slick tile. Thrown off balance, Bibi gasped and fell forward.
In a flash, Logan leapt at her, arms outstretched. Somehow he caught her. As they tumbled to the ground, Logan prepared to bear the brunt. Bibi frantically placed her hands behind his head, desperate to protect him from serious injury. They hit the floor with a muted smack, Logan’s bare back against the tile, her hands smashed between his head and the floor. She awkwardly straddled Logan’s hips, his hands on the small of her back.
Face contorted with worry, Bibi pried her hands from the back of his head and touched his face. She gazed down into his dazed eyes. “Are you hurt? Should I call an ambulance? Mierda! You’ve probably broken your back—.”
Logan grinned and touched her lips. “Shh. I’m fine. Sore but fine.”
Bibi relaxed and smiled. Her hands moved from his face to his chest as she steadied herself. Logan’s fingers slid from her lips to her jaw in a soft caress. His smile confused her. “What?”
“You,” he said quietly. “You’re adorable with your face all scrunched up like that.”
“Like what?”
“Worried,” he explained.
“Of course I’m worried. You’re super important to me, Logan.”
Logan’s expression morphed from amusement to surprise. Bibi silently cursed her stupidity. She’d done it. She’d let him see how much she cared. Logan’s lips parted and closed. Her belly tightened as she prepared for an easy let-down. This was it. She was about to lose him. He was going to give her some line about friends and awkwardness and then she’d never see him again, not like this.
Unexpectedly, Logan’s hand tangled in her hair. Without warning, he sat up and pressed his lips against hers. Bibi stiffened with shock and the
n melted with need. Her arms curled around his shoulders, holding him close as they hungrily kissed. Rather brazenly, she swept her tongue against his lower lip and prodded until he gave access. He welcomed her invading tongue, a low growl emanating from his throat.
As their tongues swirled, Bibi felt Logan’s fingers tugging on her robe’s sash. The lapels fell open, displaying her full breasts, the cocoa nipples already erect with excitement. Logan lips abandoned her mouth and sought the supple peaks. Head thrown back, Bibi moaned with pleasure. His warm tongue teased her sensitive nipples; his strong hands gently massaged the flesh.
Soon, his lips were on her neck, his hands gripping her ass. Feeling her inner domme, Bibi shoved on Logan’s shoulders, forcing his back to the floor once again. Her teeth grazed the tender skin of his neck and collar bone as she kissed her way down his chest. Tongue flicking across his nipples, she toyed with the crisp hair just above his jeans. She sat up, her knees on either side of his thighs, and unlatched the buckle of his belt. His green eyes darkened as he watched her unbutton his fly and lower the zipper. Logan’s stiff cock had already escaped the front placket of his blue cotton boxers.
“Lift your hips,” she ordered and shimmied down his thighs.
“Yes, ma’am!” Laughing, Logan hastily complied with her order, allowing her to tug his jeans down to his knees.
Smiling devilishly, Bibi walked her fingers oh-so-slowly down his tummy to the waistband of his boxers. She peeled the fabric down, revealing his twitching penis and tightened balls. Logan’s breathing hitched as her fingers lightly encircled the thick shaft and teasingly stroked up and down, coming close to the head but never touching. The fingers of her other hand brushed against his testicles.
Desperate to taste him, she scooted down his legs a bit more and lowered her mouth. Her wet tongue swiped the length of him. A hint of salt and his uniquely male scent invaded her senses. Logan’s legs stiffened as she sucked the head of his cock into her mouth, lavishing it with the warmth of her tongue and lips. The fat crown stretched her lips and pulsed against her tongue. He was so hot for her, and it showed.
