by Flame Arden
A sophisticated lady like Eve deserved his careful attention. He was determined to seduce her until her toes curled, making her insensate with desire before he took her this time. He'd reap his pleasure from hers.
The belt of the robe he'd loaned her wrapped twice around Eve's waist and was as good a place as any to start. She'd secured the belt in a neat bow which he quickly dispensed with to get to the present beneath all those wrappings.
Slow down.
Nick rested his chin on her head, closed his eyes and inhaled Eve's seductive fragrance while he planned his sensual assault. He'd already invaded her space to unwrap the belt. Might as well let his hands brush her breast, a feather-light touch that incited a riot in his own blood.
She inhaled sharply. He ground his hips. Made her intimately aware of his rigid cock prodding her in the navel. In all his engorged glory, Croupier wanted to play.
So did Nick.
He stepped back and with the gentle encouragement of his fingers, Eve's oversized robe slid to the floor. At last she stood before him, her body again proudly nude. She looked as sweet as that infamous apple her Biblical namesake had offered to Adam and twice as tempting. This Eve wore soft suede, knee-high boots.
Man, oh, man. She sure knew how to stoke his fires. Forget those much talked about fig leaves. He was fast developing a fetish for stiletto-heeled boots.
Nick shrugged his shoulders, knowing that was all it would take to make the robe he wore start a downward slide. As the sleeves cleared his fingertips he took a bold step toward her.
Now there was no space between himself and Eve. Deeply satisfied, he gathered her into his arms. His proud cock throbbed against her flat stomach. She looked into his eyes, identical flames of desire burning in hers.
He dipped his head. Their lips met and he kissed her thoroughly.
She smiled seductively.
"Care to share the joke?" He cupped her chin in his palm.
She tilted her head to the side, gazing into his eyes. "Not on your life."
Her coquettish look made him feel boyishly alive and he kissed her slowly, so that her mouth opened for him. "You want to play?" With his fingernail, he traced the dark area surrounding her pouty nipple. Her tantalizing woman-scent already had him hot with desire.
"I'm game. You taste like brandied cherries, decadently sweet."
He eased Eve down on the bed and, on his knees, gave one of her boots a hard tug. Nick flopped back hard on his butt. The boot came off easier than he'd expected, not at all like his boots.
"Nick? Are you all right?" Eve solicitously leaped to her feet and wobbled on her remaining boot and a thigh-high stockinged foot to where he sat on the floor.
He sucked in a quick breath. She hovered right above him, the auburn curls concealing her cunt almost brushing his face. Certain he had died and gone to heaven, he flattened both hands on her rounded buttocks and pulled her into his embrace.
Her heady, arousing scent was almost his undoing as he encouraged Eve to sink her weight, bringing her slick clit within his reach. Like a man thirsting for drink, he buried his face in her honeyed pussy, seeking her moist sheath.
After her initial throaty response, Eve locked her fingers in his hair and began to make faint panting sounds that threatened his sanity.
She climaxed right in his mouth, then sank to her knees on the thick rag rug, too weak to stand. With some quick planning on his part she came to rest on her side with those divine burgundy nipples—miracles do happen—only inches from his mouth.
While Eve's breathing returned to normal, he contented himself with admiring looks and a lingering caress, her lust-flavored taste still on his tongue. But when he could no longer postpone his pulsing need, he drew a puckered nipple into his mouth, wrapped his tongue around it. Sensing the resurgence of need in Eve, he gently bit the tip just to the point of giving her pleasure, never pain.
She rolled her shoulders. Nick took her action as a sign she wanted more, for the sensual motion thrust her rounded breast more firmly against his lips. He drew the sensitive nipple and the supple flesh surrounding it deep into his mouth.
Eve moaned and let her head loll back. While he rolled on a condom, her eyes drifted shut.
She lay on her side, facing him and he placed a possessive hand on her hip, pulled her close, his action wedging his hot, engorged cock between her thighs. Slowly, she opened her eyes and to allow him easier access to her now throbbing depths, draped her still booted calf over his thigh. His heartbeat ratcheted into orbit.
Her sheath no longer constricted his penis and he immediately rammed his hard dick home.
Pleasured moans replaced her grin. "Oh, yes, Nick. Yes."
A resounding "Yes" accompanied each of his deep strokes, followed by the slap of soft leather smacking his bare buttocks, urging him to go deeper, still. She might as well have applied a whip to his butt. He raced blindly toward oblivion in an unquenchable frenzy, carrying Eve along with him for the ride of his life. They peaked together, a symphony made more enjoyable thanks to their sated moans.
He recovered first. She took far longer to breathlessly float back down, which allowed Nick more time for contemplation than he would have liked.
Damnation.
... When was the last time he had gotten so carried away he fucked on a rug?
... Rolled around on the floor like an overheated sophomore?
... Failed to make it to the bed?
Eve's booted leg slid down off his thigh. He missed having it there. It was not until he caught himself yearning for her soft warmth, however, that he cautiously reigned in his thoughts.
This would never do. If he was not careful, these uncontrolled emotions Eve unleashed would be his downfall.
A one night stand. This is a one night stand, he staunchly reminded himself, even though this one would likely last the entire week.
Eve rolled onto her back and sighed. Her eyes fluttered open and she gave him a weak smile. "Hi, cowboy. What's next?"
Nick chuckled. "That's what I admire. A woman who enjoys a good, hard ride."
"Is this handsome cowpoke ready to relax with me after his long hard day?"
"I've done my share of bronco busting. How did you guess?"
"Done your share of poking, too, I'll wager."
When he didn't deny her accusation, Eve laughed.
"Let's adjourn to the bed, woman. I've shared a saddle too long to consider another ride on this hard floor."
He gave her a hand getting up, then sat on the edge of the bed, pondering why he was always in a state of raging arousal around Eve...
Chapter Eight
Eve desperately wanted to believe she fed Nick’s rampant desire, but that thought caused a quiver to race through her senses and her pulse to surge.
"Come here, cowgirl."
His lust-roughened voice further excited her, and she willingly walked into his embrace. Nick’s strong arms felt so good around her, his chest a port for the storm of emotions she was powerless to control, like her quickly developing addiction to his deep voice and the sensual rasp of his skin.
He ran his hand along the smooth skin of her inner thigh. "Sit, so I can remove your other boot. And don't worry. I promise not to pull as hard this time."
To Eve's delight, he stood in all his naked splendor, and grabbed her booted foot in his hand. The boot slipped off easily. She heard it hit the floor, but couldn't pry her gaze from Nick's cock. Suddenly she stretched, wiggling her toes and giving in to a playful thought.
Nick's in trouble, if my interested expression doesn’t give me away.
He sucked in a ragged breath and stared down at her, entrancing her with the blatant eroticism of his smile.
She wouldn't have believed it possible, but his genitals grew tighter and heavier looking as she extended her foot.
Like a woman obsessed, she ran manicured toes up the length of his cock. Rubbed her ankle against his balls. She wanted to make him ache the way he made her ache, and from
his avaricious expression she had.
"What now, John Wayne?" she teased. "I was hoping you had something in mind."
* * * * *
Priscilla's women frequently come up with some off-the-wall trick to try.
Eve didn't disappoint.
Leaping up, she shoved Nick down on the bed. "Stay right there. I have an idea," she said over her shoulder and he watched her pleasing butt disappear down the hall.
Leaning against the headboard, he waited for Eve, a host of erotic scenarios playing on the big screen in his head, her mad dash from his room failing to show up in any of them.
He couldn't recall ever being so at ease around a woman. A man either, for that matter, except Gary, of course.
An expected but equally unwelcome ache invaded Nick’s chest.
He'd met Gary Thackary on maneuvers in Saudi Arabia just prior to the Gulf War. A low-in-rank infantryman, he could have taught the General in charge a lot about life.
Nick had never opened up to anyone the way he opened up to Gary, rather like the way he might have to the brother he'd wished for, but never had. Gary planned to open a car wash in Las Vegas after his discharge and to Nick's amazement offered him a partnership in his enterprise. Later, he'd even named Gary beneficiary in his will. Not that he'd had anything to leave him when the partnership papers were signed, but business partners looked out for one another, Gary had said.
Sharing danger brought them together, and by the time the war ended and they shipped home, their friendship had solidified and their lives were so completely entwined nothing short of a court order could have separated them.
Death had. Damn that automobile accident. The kind of single-car accident only reported on the evening news because of a fatality. In Gary’s case, two. A blow out near Mesquite, Nevada, where Gary and the uncle who had raised him were headed to pick up an ailing friend.
The images from the news cast flashed in Nick's mind. Crumpled pieces of metal—all that remained of the uncle's Lincoln Town Car. A weak sidewall in a fairly new tire had blown with the same suddenness that made Gary a rich man when his uncle died, then Nick unbelievably wealthy when Gary had drawn his last breath on the way to the emergency room.
Making Nick a friendless rich man.
He would gladly give back every cent he'd inherited that horrible night to have his friend and business partner back.
Nick sank deeper into the pillows, realizing that Eve reminded him of Gary. Not her looks. Homely best described his friend. It was Eve's easy way of talking about everyday things that recalled Gary to him.
And like Gary, Eve knew when to keep silent, and to sense when Nick was in the mood to talk.
Down the hall an overhead light flashed on in the kitchen. One of the hinges on a cabinet squeaked open, then the door clicked shut. A utensil scraped. The light flickered out. Nick waited, impatient and curious.
What was Eve up to? He couldn't wait to find out.
She burst into the room, her wide grin triumphant. Smug.
Did he smell cherries? And just what did she plan to do with the measuring cup and pastry brush in her hands?
"We're in luck," she said, placing her burden beside him on the bed. "This is still warm. Now, just lie still and close your eyes."
Nick tried lying flat, then scrunched two pillows, stuffing them beneath his head. When he finally stilled, he discovered his heart was thumping at an accelerated rate.
Even the intriguing gleam in Eve's eye added to the air of anticipation that had started building the moment she left the room. From the darkness? From desire? From curiosity, for sure.
* * * * *
Eve watched a muscle in Nick's arm quiver. Another on his broad chest.
Keep him waiting a little longer. Enjoy this sensual encounter to the fullest. Make him mine in every possible way.
His long toes had recently received a pedicure but the callous-roughened skin on the underside begged for attention. Why not give his feet more than he'd bargained for?
Turning her back to him, Eve straddled his thighs.
As she drizzled warm, sugary sauce over a bony toe, Nick groaned. "I'm going to get even with you for this, when you—"
A sharp intake of breath as Eve wrapped her tongue around the sweetened appendage and began to suckle his toe ended Nick's promise of revenge. Beneath her, he writhed in ecstasy. His lustful movement encouraged her to give the rest of his toes the same treatment, one long length at a time. She moved on to the soles of his feet before tasting the smooth skin at the back of his knees. Then, turning around to face him, still straddling Nick, she sampled the flat firmness of his abs.
Threading his fingers through Eve's hair, Nick tried to distract her.
That’s not gonna happen. She moved restlessly beneath his hands instead, let her breath warm his chest, followed by the soft strokes of her pastry brush and the sticky warmth of syrupy cherries.
"What the Hell are you doing?" He tried so hard not to laugh when her brush tickled his ribs, but failed miserably.
She grinned. "Well, Mr. Nick St. Clair, I'm turning you into Santa Claus with cherries jubilee sauce. Want a taste?"
Her finger penetrated the seam of his lips, then slipped inside his mouth.
"This reminds me of a similar scene from the movie version of Tom Jones. " Nick enthusiastically licked off the thick syrup with his tongue. She went back to work on his torso, the softness of her strokes intended to drive him wild. Focused on the task at hand, she hummed a happy, tuneless song.
From Nick's expression, he was enjoying himself immensely. He closed his eyes and murmured, "You’re one in a million. How did I get so lucky?"
The careful strokes of Eve's brush ceased and for a breathless instant she leaned over him, her warm breath fanning across his stomach, followed by the gentle stroke of her wet tongue.
Nick clenched his teeth against her unexpected assault and squirmed.
Then she swirled the tip of her hot tongue round and round his navel and when it stopped, he looked ready to weep. She lapped along his ribs, a bear cub seeking thick honey, sweet and warmed by the sun.
Nick groaned.
Eve grinned, pleased to be the instrument of his pleasure after the earlier delights Nick had given her. He'd done unexpectedly erotic things to her body, aroused sensations she'd never dreamed possible with lips and tongue, just to satisfy her needs.
Her body still pulsed and throbbed from the intensity of her last release. She had thought applying the remaining syrup to Nick's broad chest with a brush would give her body a much needed rest, but now realized her mistake. Her plan to heighten his sexual pleasure was rapidly increasing her own.
Her long, flowing hair brushed his abs. As she worked her way down his torso, Nick began to pant.
"I feel like a bowl of milk lapped up by a playful kitten. My body has turned to jelly, my mind to mush. Has anyone ever told you that you have a very wicked, wet tongue? Which part of me are you going to taste next?" His desire-roughened voice curled her toes.
In an effort to appease her own desire, she sat on her bare foot and tried to shut her ears to the tenor of Nick's libidinous moans.
His waiting cock remained, the one part of his body she had not sucked clean. She'd saved the best for last and bent to the task with lusty enthusiasm.
Like cherry-flavored fine porcelain, the delicate flesh teased and tempted her tongue. She licked furiously, making little slurping sounds, turning herself on as much as she had turned on Nick.
His smooth cock jerked convulsively as she licked.
"Oh, yes. There. Lick every inch from head to base," he pleaded, and then the dam of his restraint burst. He locked his fingers in her thick hair and gently forced her to look at him.
"Hey, lady. Wanna ride?"
Her suggestive laugh made him buck wildly with need. Her recent efforts had left his penis squeaky clean, but when she started to straddle him, he held her at arms length and reached into the bedside table drawer.
&
nbsp; She might be willing to take him without protection, but he was not that careless and his responsible action pleased her.
With a sigh that he duplicated, she traced his ribs with her fingertips as she sheathed him in her warm cocoon. He caressed her breasts, making her heart pound, and her eyes glaze over. Then she began to move slowly up and down on him, her knees pressed against his hips. Down, then up she moved, her eyes never leaving his face, each stroke going deeper, each ramming home.
Suddenly her breath caught on a strangled cry and her skin flushed. Head thrown back, she bobbed up and down just out of his reach until caught by a passion-induced wave.
At the first uncontrolled twitch of her muscles, Nick pulled her tight to his chest. His next thrust brought him up off the bed so that her heated flesh caressed his from neck to navel and beyond. The ensuing erotic slap of flesh inspired a furious rut.
Her prolonged, heated climax brought about Nick’s release, a mind-emptying rush of such intense feeling he shouted. Twice. And rolled on top of her, driving into her in one final, hard thrust.
Much later, he slid to one side. Their sticky, cherry-stained skin separated with a sweaty squeak.
Eve giggled.
Nick grinned. "This cowboy needs a shower. How about you?"
Chapter Nine
Nick's mountain retreat reminded Eve of a sprawling ranch house on a TV western. Or was this his home? She knew so little about him. He was slow to volunteer information. So close-mouthed, he'd put a tortoise to shame.
Her thoughts ended abruptly when Nick, not the least bit self-conscious about his nudity, opened the door at the far end of the bathroom to what she had wrongly assumed was a linen closet. His proud grin welcomed her to his private domain, then he shoved the door further open and motioned for her to step into a world dominated by ebony black and shiny chrome.
Even the deep plush carpet beneath her feet with the silky feel of faux fur was black. A collection of Sharper Image exercise equipment and fancy gadgets—she could not begin to imagine their use—vied for her attention along one far wall. She buried her toes in the carpet and glanced around.
