Stand & Deliver

by Rhenna Morgan

  Her gaze sharpened in an instant. “Prove it how?”

  He inhaled deep and skimmed his nose alongside hers, her mouth close enough he nearly tossed his plans in the gutter. But that wouldn’t prove the point he needed to make. That she needed to feel and understand at a fundamental level so she could actually enjoy and not fight him every step of the way. He squeezed her tighter for all of a second, then forced himself to step away. “You lead.”

  The loss of contact was staggering. An affront to every instinct in him and one she seemed to struggle with as well if the scowl she aimed up at him was any indication. “I what?”

  “Tonight. You lead. Whatever you want. However you want me.”

  Cocking her head to one side, she sidled closer, gobbling up what distance he’d created and splaying her hand low on his stomach. “Anything?”

  Fuck, he was going to regret this. At least he would until she figured out how much better things worked when he kept his hands on the wheel and let her soar. Then he’d launch them both as far as they could go and wallow in the aftershocks. “Anything.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch.” He kept his hands at his sides, though it nearly killed him. “So long as you feel good and get what you need, we’ll play your way.”

  The smile she shot him was dirty and deadly. “I like this plan.” She moved in so her tits teased his chest, laced her fingers with his and craned her face toward his. “I’m an excellent leader.”

  It was a taunt and a promise all rolled up into one. His cock strained behind his jeans, more than ready to answer to both. “I’m six foot four and weigh twice what you do. You gonna lead this attack down here, or get me upstairs where I can stretch out and enjoy the ride?”

  For a second, he thought she’d push him down on the couch just to prove a point, but she finally backed away, keeping one hand clasped in his as she scanned his body. Her gaze stopped pointedly on the blatantly hard bulge behind his fly and then shot back to his. “Well, you are big.”

  Yep. Definitely a long, hard stretch of patience and control ahead of him.

  Before he could throw a quip about other things being long and hard, she led him toward the stairs, hips swaying with enough confidence to level a roomful of men. “Can’t have you uncomfortable now can we?”

  Uncomfortable? Was she fucking kidding him? He kept the thought to himself and focused on getting up the stairs without his jeans cutting off the blood supply to his cock.

  Broaching the threshold to her refined, yet deeply feminine room, a weird sensation moved through him. Something foreign he couldn’t quite put a label on. As if some deeply recessed territorial instinct had tripped, bound only by the vow he’d given to let her lead.

  “You look a little uncertain.” Gia pulled him deeper into the room then circled him until she had him positioned between her and the bed. Splaying her hand on his sternum, she urged him backward until his legs hit the mattress. “You sure you’re up for this?”

  “Don’t doubt giving you control, gorgeous. Just makin’ sure I can keep my shit on lockdown long enough for you to work your way to the truth.”

  Her hands slipped under his tee and pushed it up, up, up. “What if I don’t want your shit on lockdown? What if my whole goal is to push you until you let go like I did last night?”

  As tall as he was, she had zero chance of getting the shirt off him without an intervention, so he peeled it off, rolled his shoulders to try to ease the building tension and tossed his shirt to the floor. He rested his hands on her hips with far more control than he felt. “Oh, I’ll let go. When you’re under me and coming on my cock.”

  If he hadn’t been touching her, he’d have missed the tremor that worked through her torso, but the rasp in her voice said plenty. “What makes you think I’m letting you on top?”

  All too easily, the image of her straddling his hips, her tits bouncing as she rode him, blasted through his thoughts. “Baby, it doesn’t matter what position we end up in. I’ll always be on top in every way that counts. We’re just playin’ this out so you can process reality.”

  She pursed her mouth. “Mmm-hmm.” With that, she shoved him backward.

  He went with it, letting the king-size plushness absorb his fall before he scooted back and situated himself smack-dab in the middle. He tucked his hands behind his head. “Gotta admit. So far, your brand of foreplay’s a huge turn-on. What else ya got?”

  Her mouth twitched like it was all she could do to fight back a grin. “Shut up, Beckett.” She tugged one of his Timberlands off and dropped it to the floor, the muted thunk as it hit the rug-covered hardwoods like an exclamation point to her command.

  “I’d ask if you’d spank me if I’m bad, but we won’t make it that far.”

  The second boot joined the other and she started on his socks, for all intents and purposes ignoring his taunt.

  “Now spanking you,” he said, intent on getting her eyes back on his, “that I have a feeling we’ll get to.”

  She tossed his socks aside and lifted her head just enough to lock stares.

  Perfect.

  Eyes heavy. Full lips tipped in a sultry smile. Dark hair loose around her shoulders. Even in a tank and those stretchy workout pants she wore, she gave every screen goddess a run for their money. “Spanking you wouldn’t turn me on in the least, but I’m considering possible gag options.” She gripped the hem of her tank and casually peeled it up and over her head.

  Not the move he’d expected. Not even close. But if she’d wanted a way to shut him the fuck up and keep him dumbfounded, displaying her amazing rack in a lacy sky-blue bra was the perfect play. Her pants came next. By the time she straightened, tossed her hair over one shoulder and crawled onto the foot of the bed, he was pretty damned sure the only thing his tongue was meant for was to sample every inch of flesh she’d bared.

  Standing tall on her knees, she skimmed her fingertips from his toes along the top of his feet toward his ankles.

  It was such a simple touch. Almost innocent. But paired with the way she looked at him and her outstanding curves on prime display, it was the most erotic thing he’d felt in his life. “You remember that talk we had about touch, right?”

  Her fingers skimmed higher, trailing his shins as far as his jeans would allow before retracing back to his ankles. “I remember.” Soft, but focused. A singled-minded determination to put everything she had into every second. “You don’t like it?”

  She knew damned well he did. The knowledge and the power that went with it practically crackled in the air around her. He forced himself to stay still as she made another pass. “I fucking love it.”

  This time her smile was playful. She leaned over him and stroked her hands along the outside of his jean-clad legs, her head cocked at a sassy angle. “So, you like me being in control.”

  A statement. Not a question. Though, with her hands working the top button on his fly, it took a five-second delay before the content fully registered. He fisted his hands behind his head and his biceps jumped from the sudden action. “Sweetheart, I never said I didn’t like you being in control. I said you needed me in control. If it’s between what gets me off and giving you what you need, you’ll trump me every time.”

  The statement stopped her cold just as the last button popped free and her gaze snapped to his. Without the denim caging him in, his cock stretched long and thick against his belly, his über soft boxer briefs the only thing between him and heaven. But the only thing worth processing was the look on her face. The sheer surprise and vulnerability. The want and disbelief. He wanted to hold her. Needed to roll her underneath him, cover her skin to skin and impress what he’d shared in the most physical way possible.

  But he’d made her a promise, and hell would freeze over before he broke it. Though, moving things a little closer to her revelation wouldn’t hurt. He lifted his hips, draw
ing her out of her stupor and back to the task at hand. “Get these off me.”

  She bristled at the near growled command, the look on her face hinting at rebellion until her gaze dropped to his unbuttoned fly and curiosity seemed to get the better of her. Hooking her fingers in his clothes at his hips, she worked the fabric down, her focus so fixated on his dick he swore it stretched even farther. “Beckett.”

  Damn, but he liked the sound of his name when she said it like that. Husky and heated. “Not sure if that’s praise for what you’re staring at, or you queuing up a complaint.”

  “Not a complaint.” She dragged his jeans and briefs the rest of the way off and tossed them to the floor, never once taking her attention off him. “Definitely not a complaint.” She anchored one knee between his ankles and nudged his shin with the other. “Let me in.”

  He chuckled, but widened and cocked his legs, the space he’d created quickly gobbled up as she knelt between them. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

  The quip didn’t faze her. Hell, he wasn’t even sure she’d heard it the way she drank him in. She gripped his legs just above his knees and stroked upward, her palms teasing the fine hairs along his thighs. Her fingertips grazed the V at his hips and his cock jerked.

  She smiled like a kid who’d just been gifted with a new and fascinating toy.

  “All for you, gorgeous.” And boy, was it. Never in any experience had he been so revved and ready to go as he was in this moment, and he hadn’t even felt her body against his yet.

  Continuing her exploration, her hands made a teasing detour on either side of his aching cock and back in to run her thumbs through the trail of hair low on his stomach. “Oh, I like that. Very much.” She took her time. Learning him. Savoring every muscle. Tracing every line of ink. The head of the Celtic dragon roaring over one shoulder. The intricate knots lacing his rib cage. The tip of the dragon’s tail near his hip.

  Out of ink to follow, her fingertips drifted across his clenched abs and down to the juncture of his thighs, her touch barely skimming his supremely tight nuts. “I have to admit. This surprised me.”

  What surprised her? And why was she talking? Her hand was right there. All she had to do to unwind the gruesome tension was cup his sac in her tiny palm. He fought the need to lift his hips in encouragement. “What surprised you?”

  Her touch whispered against his most sensitive flesh. “This. I didn’t take you for the shaving type.”

  Fuck. More conversation. And what were they talking about?

  Ah...right. “Feels better,” he all but growled. Unwinding his arms from behind his head, he splayed his hands on either side of his hips, thankful for the slick comforter beneath him.

  Rather than build the contact to something more tangible, she broke contact entirely, the shock at the loss a painful lash beneath his skin.

  He opened his mouth, a command on his tongue and his breaking point teetering dangerously close—until his brain clocked her intent.

  She guided one bra strap off her shoulder, then the other. “What do you mean it feels better?”

  Okay, this he could totally hang on for. Hell, he’d level all of Dallas with his bare hands for her if it meant he got to watch her unveil the rest of her fantastic body. She dipped her chin just a fraction, bit her lower lip and reached behind her. The action pushed the swells of her breasts even higher and the ache in his cock ramped to a demanding throb.

  Before he could answer, she undid the clasp and peeled the silky fabric away.

  Beautiful. A hundred percent natural and just a little more than a handful, which was saying something considering the size of his hands.

  She pressed her shoulders back and skimmed her fingers beneath them. “Beckett?”

  Goddamn but she was good at this. Good, but not the only one who could play the game. He grinned and gave himself what she hadn’t, widening his legs even further and cupping himself in one hand. “I mean it feels better when I’ve spent time wrestling with a certain curvy brunette and can’t stop thinking about the dirty things I want to do to her.”

  “Oh my God.” It came out like a prayer, her hands splaying on the inside of his thighs and her gaze rapt on his actions. “That’s insanely hot.”

  “Hotter if you’d get those panties off and do the same.”

  Her focus shot to his face, apprehension and intrigue both openly evident. Whatever sexual experiences she’d had, they clearly hadn’t entailed anything so blatant, but she was considering it. Likely even trying to figure out how to one-up him.

  He upped the ante and got his other hand in on the action, rubbing the length of his cock. “Stroked one off more times than I can count thinking about what you’d look like playing with your pussy. How you’d touch it. How you’d work your fingers inside. What sounds you’d make when you come.”

  Her hips flexed and her fingers tightened. “Beckett.”

  “Do it, gorgeous.” Another pump. Then another. “Unless you’re ready to let go of the wheel. I’d be more than happy to peel those panties off and fuck my fingers inside you instead.”

  Now, would you look at that.

  Even hell couldn’t claim a fire that burned hotter than the one behind her eyes. Another man would’ve put distance between them. Maybe donned steel briefs to keep his junk protected.

  But he wasn’t just any man. He was hers. And he’d by God keep pushing her until she accepted it, or he’d die trying.

  She slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, the matching blue lace perfectly accenting the flare of her hips. “I’ve got a better idea.”

  “Mmm.” He shifted his grip and made a show of slicking his thumb through the pre-come at the head of his dick. “Lay it on me.”

  The lace pooled around her knees, revealing the tightly trimmed landing strip he’d appreciated to the fullest the first time he’d undressed her. She dropped to one hip, tugged the panties past her ankles and tossed them to the floor. “You say it feels better, huh?” Back on her knees she went, teasing her fingers through her curls. “Maybe I should try that.”

  He tightened his grip on his dick, about a hundred different ideas rushing his brain at once. “You’d probably need someone to help you. A steady hand.” He squeezed his balls and flexed his hips. “A tongue to check and make sure you got it all after.”

  She dipped her fingers lower, circling her clit even as a devious smile tilted her lips. “You’ve got all the answers, don’t you?”

  “Got everything you need and then some.”

  “Hmmm.” She closed her eyes and slid her fingers through her folds as though savoring her triumph. Relishing some secret victory.

  Buddy, you are so screwed.

  He knew it the way a man with a gun pointed at his temple knew he was a dead man. Although, in this instance, he couldn’t fucking wait to have her pull the trigger.

  Opening her eyes, she slowly slipped her hand from between her thighs. “I think I’ve got what I need at the moment, but thanks for offering.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrists, tugged his hands free of his busy work and pressed them to the comforter at his sides. “Now be good and keep those there.”

  Be good.

  Right.

  He could do that.

  Maybe.

  She stroked her hands from his hips to his chest, intentionally pressing her plump tits on either side of his straining cock.

  He flexed into the soft valley, fixated on her mouth as she pressed a lingering kiss to his sternum. On her tongue as it sampled his skin. On her hot breath whispering over his chest.

  Christ, but she was beautiful. Strong and delicate all at once. So determined to prove she could hold her own even though they both knew it wasn’t what she wanted. Watching her almost killed him, powerlessness cutting him from the inside out even as her full lips and searching fingers painted a sweet path down
his torso.

  He groaned and speared his fingers in her hair, the silky weight of it against his hands and spilling down his forearms an instant comfort.

  She licked his belly and lifted her gaze to his, her mouth still skimming against his skin. “Your hands aren’t where I put them.”

  God, that was hot. A challenge thick with need. Forcing a gentle touch instead of fisting the slick strands the way he wanted, he rubbed his fingertips against her scalp. “You want to stay behind the wheel?”

  She smiled and slipped a little lower, her cheek grazing one side of his shaft. “Absolutely.”

  “You remember what I said about needing touch?”

  She shifted, her mouth poised just above the root of him. Her warm breath coiled around him as she answered low and husky. “I remember.”

  His fingers tightened, a subtle warning he couldn’t have stopped if he’d tried. “Then you give me this, or all bets are off.”

  Her lips curved in a wicked smile. “I guess it’s only fair to give you something to hang on to.” With that, she licked along one prominent vein and firmly cupped his nuts, but the time for teasing was clearly over. Where every touch had been light and controlled before, now she seemed ravenous. Boldly exploring with her lips and tongue. Rolling his sac and stroking the base of his shaft. Engulfing him in her hot, wet mouth.

  No mercy.

  Not one shred.

  He let out a ragged exhale and forced his hands to relax. He couldn’t blow this. Figuratively or literally. Even though the latter was exactly what she was after. “I know what you’re after, gorgeous, and it ain’t happening. Not tonight.”

  She gave his nuts a gentle squeeze and moaned around his shaft, the vibrations from it alone enough to make him want to flood her mouth.

  Focus, dumbass.

  White ceiling. Dark skies outside. Detach. Detach. Detach. “You want me to come in your mouth, I will absolutely oblige. But not the first time.”