by Cathryn Fox
“Which he really appreciates, and it’s something you’re good at; now hop on.”
Chuckling—and I like when she’s happy—she makes a run for me and jumps on my back, and the second she wraps her legs around my body, I realize I’ve made a huge mistake. I clear my throat, and her arms go around my body to hold on as I carry her inside. We reach her kitchen island, and I turn to deposit her on it. She slowly untangles her arms and legs, and I spin to face her, catch the desire reflecting in her eyes. Her sweet scent fills my senses, and as I breathe her in, more blood leaves my brain.
“Alyson,” I murmur.
“Yeah.”
Walk away, dude. Nothing good can come from this.
“I want…” I stop talking and brush my thumb over her bottom lip. Where do I start? Honestly there are so many things I want to do with this woman, starting with my mouth on her body. I let my gaze roam her beautiful face. She stifles a yawn, and it snaps me out of my trance. My brain screams abort, even though my dick is begging to calls the shots. I back up an inch, put a measure of space between us, hoping to dissipate the sexual tension.
“You’re tired,” I say, a statement, not a question.
“I am.”
“Let’s put you to bed.”
Her gaze latches on mine, holds for a long moment, and then, taking me by surprise, she reaches out, touches my T-shirt, and drags me to her. Her lips once again find mine, and her kiss is so steeped in desire, so delicious and needy, even if I knew better than to start anything with her—and I do—the reasons no longer matter.
“Bed,” she murmurs into my mouth. “Yeah, I like that idea.”
Chapter Eleven
Alyson
I have no idea what I’m doing or saying. Kissing and inviting a guy I barely know to my bed is so out of character for me. Playing hard to get is usually my thing, but he’s sweet and kind, and hot as hell, and my life is already a big black cauldron boiling over with mistakes.
I shouldn’t be taking my eye off my goals or bringing someone into my messed-up life—especially if I can’t keep it purely physical. I can’t lose sight of that. I won’t. But if I regret this hookup come morning, I’ll just add it to the growing list of errors I’ve made. Right now, however, as arousal takes center stage, I’m dying to touch him, see him naked, and have him touch me in return.
“Alyson,” he whispers, his voice a soft rasp as his mouth moves over mine softly, so tentatively and carefully, I fear he’s having second thoughts. I really should be, too.
“One night. You and me.” I know where he stands and realize he’s been hurt deeply and is not about to put himself out there again only to be rejected. To reiterate where I am on the matter, I say, “Nothing more.” Tonight isn’t about love or bonding or a future—and I’m not sure why I keep reminding myself that. It’s about calming the storm between us and snuffing the heat we generate whenever we’re in close proximity.
That’s a lie. My body heats just knowing he’s on the farm next door.
He groans into my mouth, deepening the kiss like a man starved of affection far too long. I know the feeling. I’ve not been with anyone since my ex dumped my sorry ass and got engaged to my friend. Like Jay, I’m not up for the rejection, and getting emotionally involved with this guy can only lead to that, especially since I still don’t know who I am or what I want or even where I’ll be next month.
The kiss changes, his lips more determined, demanding as he lifts me from the island. Glued to his body—yeah, this is the kind of stickiness I can, well, stick to—I wrap my arms and legs around him, mimicking my earlier position. But this time I’m pressed to his chest, not his back, and the hardness straining against his zipper lets me know he wants this every bit as much as I do. We’ve both been dancing around this thing between us—whatever it might be—since our dip in the Atlantic.
His footsteps echo in the old house as he carries me up the stairs and stops at the top. He glances down the narrow hallway.
“Which room?” he asks, his voice thick and rough as it slides over my skin and elicits a shiver.
“Second door on the left,” I say quickly, giving up on trying to appear unfazed by this man. “Spare bedroom.”
Long strides take us there in seconds, and in a manly move that teases the needy spot between my legs, he kicks the door shut behind him and presses me against it. God, that is so sexy. The men in my world would never carry me, much less use their foot to close a door. It might make a mark on their designer shoes. Heck, who am I to talk? I love my Louboutins. But there is no time for those thoughts, not when his mouth is all over me.
“This is happening,” I say, not realizing I spoke the words out loud until he groans.
“It’s happening,” he murmurs against my skin, his hot open-mouthed kisses on my lips, cheek, and neck filling me with heated anticipation. “As long as you want it to.”
“I do.” I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a man quite like this before. It’s heady, arousing, exhilarating, and mind-blowingly insane. His chest presses against mine, and my nipples harden in response. He groans his approval and shifts his stance to run calloused thumbs over my hard buds.
“Yes,” I murmur, heated sensations raising my need, making it hard to focus.
“When you stripped down to your underwear on that boat, I tried not to look.” A tortured noise catches in his throat. “Believe me, I tried to be a gentleman, but you are so goddamn beautiful, Alyson.”
A burst of pleasure moves through me as his flattery goes straight to my head—I’m so not used to praise—and it boosts my confidence. I gaze at the gorgeous man who just complimented me, and my thoughts turn wild and wicked.
“Who says I want a gentleman?” He snorts and I add, “Just so you know, I wanted you in my bed the second I set eyes on you,” shocking myself with my boldness. Jay groans and carries me to the bed. I sit on the edge and inch my legs apart.
“I caught you staring a few times,” he admits and then with a chuckle adds, “I learned the fine art of subtlety after gawking too hard at a woman when I was a stupid teen. It only took a couple of good, hard kicks to the nuts before I got a clue.” His voice thick and needy, he taps his head and offers me a goofy grin that is so adorable I nearly climax then and there. “Slow learner.”
“I don’t want subtle, Jay,” I say and pinch my eyes shut, afraid I’m dreaming, that I’m not in rural Nova Scotia with the hottest farmer on the planet. But when I open my eyes again, he’s right there, staring at me with want and desire, like he’s too good to be true. Hell, this isn’t a dream, but it’s a dream come true, and I damn well plan to make the best of it. Heart racing, I add, “I want you. Right now. Inside me.”
His gaze falls the length of me, and his muscles bunch when his focus settles between my widening legs.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard.”
My lips curl, enjoying the sexy talk, the honesty between us. “Good, because touching myself for the last week while thinking about you isn’t cutting it anymore.”
His head lifts fast. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, and I grin, loving my newfound naughtiness and what it does to him. “I need you out of those clothes.”
Burning up inside, I toy with the top button on my blouse, despite the urgency inside me, but I want to make this night last with him. We won’t have another. I open the button and close it again, and the growl it pulls from him is like an aphrodisiac.
“I never knew you were a tease,” he grumbles.
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” I say and fiddle a little more.
“Let’s fix that.” Whiskey eyes flare hot, his patience a thing of the past, as he takes my hand, pulls me to my feet, and rips my blouse wide open. I gasp as the tiny buttons fall to the floor. I should be mad, but I’m not. In fact, his impatience thrills me.
“I’ll replace it,” he murmurs, his gaze dropp
ing. Holy hell, I’ve never had a man look at me with such raw need.
“What is it with my clothes anyway?”
“What are you talking about?” he asks as he slides my blouse off my shoulders and lightly brushes my nipples through my bra. I moan in response.
“Since meeting you, I’ve ruined an outfit, a pair of shoes, this blouse, and I lost a pair of coveralls and boots.”
He leans in, presses his lips to the swell of my breast, and my pulse jumps in my neck. “I might have wanted you naked for a long time, but I had nothing to do with the coveralls and boots,” he murmurs through hot, open-mouthed kisses.
“Are you claiming responsibility for the other things?”
“We’ve already established it wasn’t really my fault, but I’ll claim responsibility if it means I get to finally see you naked.”
I chuckle but it turns to a soft moan when he reaches behind me and unhooks my bra. It falls to the floor, and he drops to his knees, following it down. His hands grip my hips, his fingers holding me tight as his hot breath races over my naked flesh. He rolls his tongue around my belly button, and I move my hips, so needy for his touch.
He opens the button on my pants, and the hiss of the zipper trickles down my spine. “Yes,” I whisper as he shimmies them down my legs. “Shoes,” I say when my pants catch.
“They stay on,” he grumbles in a voice steeped in lust.
“I thought you hated my heels?” I murmur and lift one foot and then the other to help him get my pants over my heels.
“I won’t hate them when they’re around my back and you’re screaming my name.”
“Confident,” I murmur. “I like that.”
“Yeah, but this has more to do with how sexy you are in them,” he whispers, and I laugh.
I run my fingers over his shoulders, and his muscles tighten and bunch. “I do love your honesty, Jay.”
“Good, then know this: I’m going to own you tonight, Alyson.”
A violent quiver moves through me. No man has ever talked to me the way this one is now, and it’s…exhilarating. I wave a shaky hand up and down in front of his body. “Then why are you still dressed?”
“Why did I ever think you were so naive and innocent?” he jokes and goes back on his heels as I stand before him in nothing but my panties—new ones I ordered online earlier in the week. They arrived this morning, in the nick of time.
He touches them and grins. “I like.”
“I thought you might.”
“Capone was right. You are hot stuff,” he murmurs to himself.
I don’t really know about that, and he was wrong. I am naive and innocent, for the most part. This guy just brings out another side of me, an open one. I like who I am with him. No pretense, no pretending. We both know where we stand. It’s all freeing.
“I am never undressing in front of that bird,” I say with a laugh.
“Don’t worry. He won’t insult you like he does me.”
I laugh at that. “He really insults you?”
“What can I say?” he says with a grin. “He’s a fucking asshole.”
“Get naked for me, Jay.” I touch his face, and he stands. “I bet I can find all kinds of nice things to say.”
He runs his finger up my stomach and between my breasts. “As long as you don’t tell me my giblets hang low.”
I snort out a laugh and cover my mouth. “Ohmigod,” I say, but all humor falls away and arousal grips me hard when he peels his shirt from his body. “Sweet baby Jesus.”
He laughs, and my jaw drops.
“Shoot, did I say that out loud?”
“Yeah, and it’s okay. I like when you say what you mean. Now if you could teach Capone a few nice phrases.”
“Speaking of nice things,” I say and glance at his pants. “Keep going. I want to see if the rumors are true.”
He arches one brow. “Rumors?”
I blink at him with pure innocence. “You know, that farmers come equipped.”
He laughs out loud at that. “What am I getting myself into?” he teases.
“Get yourself naked, and you’ll find out.”
He shakes his head. “Jesus, Alyson,” he says, and his big hands make fast work of his clothes. He kicks off his jeans, and I swear to God I nearly bite off my tongue as I gawk at the gorgeous man that is mine for tonight.
“Capone’s got it all wrong, Jay.” A little off-balance at the perfection before me, I admire his hard chest and even harder cock. “Your giblets are just fine. In fact, everything about you is better than fine.”
“You’re going to make my ego swell,” he teases as his cock juts out toward me, in need of attention. I understand that need exactly. My body warms, anticipation racing through me as I take in his hardness, his eagerness. My mouth waters, my hands itch, and forgetting about everyone and everything except this moment, this man, I step up to him, weigh him in my palms, and stroke his tight, silky-soft shaft.
“That’s not the only thing on you that’s swelling.”
He steps up to me, crowds me, and runs his fingers through my hair, pushing it back from my face. His other hand tugs me to him, and my body collides with his. Moisture breaks out on my skin as his lips find mine again. I moan, indulge in his sweet taste as I writhe my hips, letting him know in no uncertain terms how much I want him. It’s almost frightening.
He slides his hand from my hair and, catching me by surprise, grips the thin band on my panties and rips them from my hips.
“Oh, my God,” I say, and he chuckles against my throat.
“I’ll replace these, too,” he says.
“I never knew farmers were such impatient people. But I like it, Jay. I like it a lot.”
His mouth goes lower and lower, his lips so close to my nipple I shift, putting one into his mouth. His chuckle reverberates around me. “Look at you: impatient, too?”
“Well, I am a farmer now,” I say, but my eyes slip shut when he draws my nipple in deeper. He sucks hard, and as the heat of his mouth warms me from the inside out, pleasure shoots through me. Calloused fingers run down my rib cage and reach between my legs. I sway against him as he parts my damp folds and runs his rough finger over me.
“Jay,” I manage to get out as heat ravishes me, my temperature jumping to inferno. He circles my clit, and I grow slicker. I clutch at his shoulders and dig my nails into his flesh as his nimble fingers do the most amazing things between my legs. My knees quiver a bit, and when I falter in my heels, he grips my ass and backs me up. My legs hit the bed, and he gives a shove, and the two of us topple onto the soft mattress.
His beautiful body lands on mine, holds me captive between hardness and the soft bedding. He’s been on top of me before, and just like then, I’m unable to fill my lungs with air. Except this time, it’s because we’re both naked, and he’s looking at me like he’s going to eat me alive. My body sings in sweet bliss, and I resist the urge to strut around and crow like Cluck, or bellow out hallelujah. The last time a man made my body croon was…never.
He shifts his body weight, and I suck in a breath but exhale quickly when he pushes my legs apart and tracks the pad of his thumb up my thigh. His mouth nips at my nipple, twirling it between his teeth, and I feel the tug deep inside me.
“Jay,” I cry, wanting his damn finger inside me already.
“Needy girl,” he says. “Don’t worry, I’m here to help.”
“Yes, it’s been too long.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. This is a one-night stand, and he doesn’t need to know my sad history.
“Me, too,” he murmurs, and that takes me by surprise. I don’t know much about him, but I do know he doesn’t like to talk about his past.
He inches a finger into me, and my head rolls back. “Yes.”
“This what you want?”
Excitement cente
rs between my legs, and I buck my hips, my sex enveloping his thick finger and wanting more of him. Jay chuckles at my blatant eagerness, but he has no room to laugh. His rock-hard cock is jammed against my thigh, a heat-seeking missile aimed and ready for takeoff.
He moves his finger inside me, and I don’t know if it’s because it’s been too long, or this guy just really knows his way around a woman’s body, but every nerve inside me lights up.
“Answer me,” he demands in a soft voice.
“Yes, I want this,” I say, eager and hungry for all of him, and none too shy about letting him know.
Unable to hold back a cry, I call out something unintelligible and hope I don’t spill any secrets—like how no one has ever really worshipped my body quite like this, and that I asked for one night with him but could really use another.
Maybe we could continue to have sex until I leave. Neither of us are willing to invest our hearts, our bodies, however… But that idea is for later when my brain is clear. It’s impossible to think with heated vibrations ripping through me, scattering my thoughts in much the same way as my buttons had scattered earlier.
“You are so close,” he whispers against my skin and sinks his teeth into my shoulder. He scrapes said teeth against my quivering flesh and begins a slow journey downward. I grip his head, clench his hair in my fist, and shove him. He yelps and nearly falls off the bed, but he gets the idea.
He rights himself and grins up at me. “You trying to tell me something?” he jokes.
“Yes,” I say, and like a girl on a mission, I widen my legs even more, my gaze raking his perfect body. He turns his focus to my sex and licks me. That first sweet lick has my hips rising, and I bump against his mouth.
He slides his hands under my backside and holds me to him, feasting on me like I’m a special holiday dinner and he’d been living off rations for months. His head circles, and his tongue follows, moving around my clit until I’m gripping the sheets and seeing stars.
“You taste so good,” he says, his voice muffled as he pleasures me. I flush from head to toe, and a quiver follows. He inserts another finger and flattens his tongue on my clit.
