Her breasts grew heavy at his closeness, at the feel of him behind her like he might take her right there. Oh, the idea! Her nipples tightened into stiff peaks against her bikini top. Her level of arousal stunned her. She’d taken care of herself a few times over the months—a woman had to release pent up frustration—but she hadn’t had a physical reaction to another man since Randy, and well, that had been some time ago.
There hadn’t been much passion between them in about a year. He claimed to be exhausted by long hours at the firm. Long hours that included sexing his paralegal.
“Ren, what are you doing?” Her voice sounded breathy and traitorous. Like Brutus with Julius Cesar, et tu, voice? If she heard the breathlessness, he certainly had.
“I’ve fantasized about doing this forever.”
Surprising. She hadn’t expected him to fantasize about her other than maybe hoping to catch a peek of skin.
She’d caught him staring at her chest and backside from time-to-time over the years. And she’d just busted him outside by the pool.
A young man in his sexual prime. Girls had come and gone in a steady stream. She’d never expected to draw his attention. Not that she considered herself hard on the eyes. She might not be Giselle or Sofia Vergara, but she’d had her fair share of ogles.
He slid strong hands over her hips toward her belly, stroking the bare skin above the towel. The roughness of his calloused thumb tingled her soft skin. Gliding up her abdomen, he blazed a trail of heat until he cupped her breasts.
“You look amazing in this bikini.” His breath fanned across her cheek, and the huskiness of his voice sent heat rushing through her. No mistaking his desire. “And I think you’ll look even more amazing out of it.”
He bit the string tie of her bikini, pulling the cloth with his teeth until the bow slipped free. The fabric loosened and fell into his hands, exposing her. Cool air caressed her skin, causing her nipples to tighten even more and goosebumps to once again form over her skin. Her breaths shallowed and she stilled.
This had to stop. She needed to stop this.
This couldn’t go any further, but blood raced through her veins and lust hummed at the end of every nerve. Her bare breasts ached for his touch. The need for his hands on her, cupping her, massaging her, was almost painful.
His dexterous fingers untied the bottom string of her bikini.
The red material flitted to the Mexican-tiled floor, landing near her feet. Sunlight filtered through the window above the kitchen sink, dancing across the tile and her toes. A boat whirred in the channel behind her house. Life carried on despite this frozen moment in time.
He kicked the clothing out of their way, and cupped her bare breasts. Finally. She shuddered at the relief of his warm hands molding her. Her sex clenched, almost pushing her to orgasm. Oh God! He hadn’t even touched her there and yet her body reacted as if he’d touched her everywhere. His chest rumbled with a primal sound that almost buckled her knees.
“I was right,” he rumbled. “God, you’re beautiful.”
It had been too long. Too long for her to think clearly when a man of Ren’s caliber touched her and whispered sexy words in her ear. She dropped her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, melting against him like her favorite Irish butter in a hot skillet.
His beachy scent consumed her, mixing with hints of the chocolate chip cookies she had baked earlier. The mix of fragrances made her lightheaded.
He kneaded her breasts, triggering another pulse between her legs.
The heat of his hands, the feel of him at her back, the drift of his breath on her neck—too much. Surrender. That’s what her body cried out for. Let him ravage her. She deserved this experience and was way overdue for a man-made orgasm, already more than halfway there. Why not?
Wait!
What was she doing? Her neighbor’s son. Her friendship with his parents would be irreparably damaged if this situation went any further. Not to mention, the possible scandal: Older woman seduces younger man. If this street was anything, it was nosy and full of gossip.
“Stop. Ren!” The words came out more like a moan than a demand.
He caressed her, stroking her breasts so skillfully it was clear he knew his way around a woman. Squeezing her thighs together, she hoped the pressure between her legs would slow the throbbing beat of her sex.
No such luck.
“Stacey, please.” He dropped his hands to her hips, leaving her breasts exposed to the chilled air. He yanked the towel still twisted tightly around her waist, and tossed it to the floor. “I want this. I want you more than I want anything.”
He skimmed around her abdomen, over her lower belly, and stopped between her legs. Oh God. She trembled when his fingers grazed her core, and her ears buzzed, drowning out her heavy breathing.
“Fuck,” he growled. The sound was so primitive, like he was an animal and needed her to survive. Another wave of arousal rushed through her. “You’re so wet.” He worked his fingers over her bikini bottoms and sparks flashed behind her eyelids. His touch was exquisite, gentle but purposed to make her come. And he would. A sob burst from her lips at the friction of the fabric and his finger against her most sensitive area.
Over the last several months, she’d been broken. Randy had been cheating for months, if not longer, before she’d discovered his affair. She’d never forget finding the condom in his gray suit pants. She was cleaning out the pockets before dropping some items off at the drycleaners. She and Randy hadn’t used condoms since before they were married. He’d insisted she get on the pill and she did, so she knew immediately the condom wasn’t for them.
She’d placed the foil package on the kitchen table and sat waiting for him to come home. When he finally waltzed in the door after seven in the evening and noticed the condom sitting in front of Stacey, he froze. She could see the wheels turning in his mind trying to create a plausible explanation. He had actually considered lying. But what came out of his mouth had been more devastating than a simple admittance of an affair.
“She’s pregnant,” he’d said.
Stacey’s world shattered. Not only was her marriage in shambles, but her husband had given his mistress the one thing she’d been begging from him for years. A child. A family.
Randy had been matter-of-fact after that. Moving out. Filing for divorce. It happened quickly. He showed little interest in how Stacey managed to survive her broken heart.
But someone wanted her, even if for just a bit.
No one, with the exception of herself, had touched her in a long time. To now have Ren caressing her clit, her pussy—God!—she’d be undone without much more effort. She already hovered on the precipice. Coasting over the edge would be simple.
What on Earth was she doing? She was a hot mess! She couldn’t succumb to this situation no matter how desperately she wanted to. Stripping his hand from between her legs, she spun to face him and set him straight. Had to before they crossed this invisible line that would change everything.
He was so close, too close for her to think clearly. Dropping his forehead, he rested against hers. His breath hit her face in little bursts, indicative of his level of arousal.
Stacey covered her breasts. Hers weren’t the first set he’d seen. He had just spent the last half-hour implying he’d had many sexual adventures with women at college. He’d seen much perkier, much more interesting ones than hers for sure.
Oh, for Christ’s sake! This whole situation fucked with her head. The point wasn’t her breasts. He was twenty-three and her neighbors’ son! She a thirty-one-year-old divorcee. Nothing good would come of this.
Well, except for a long overdue orgasm at the hands of a hunk of a man! But nothing else.
“I’m flattered you find me attractive. Especially given the fact I’m sure you had to fight those college girls off with a stick. Look at you!” She struggled to get her breath under control, standing before him in nothing but bikini bottoms. “But I could be your mother.”
; The corners of his eyes creased as he chuckled, and she winced at how ridiculous her words sounded. Older sister, maybe. But she wasn’t anywhere near old enough to be his mother.
“There’s not that much difference in our age,” he said. “And if it makes you feel any better, I assure you, I promise you, I swear to God and on my life, I’ve never looked at you like you were my mother or anyone related to me. Ever. Not even close.” He grazed her cheek with his fingers, calloused fingertips rough against the softness of her cheek. “Trust me.”
She shivered from the wicked look in his eyes that suggested all the ways he did look at her.
“Regardless,” she said, and huffed, “we can’t do this.”
She continued her efforts to convince him, but more importantly, convince herself. She wanted to give into him, to know what it felt like to be desired and thoroughly fucked again. But this wasn’t the time or the situation.
“We live next door to each other. I’ve known you since you were thirteen. And I’m friends with your parents. I’d have to face them. They wouldn’t be happy about this, Ren. It’s not right and you know that.”
He wrenched her hands from her chest, holding them above her head and interlacing their fingers. An intimate hold. He could have pinned her by her wrists, but he chose to intertwine their fingers and the touch softened her heart, her resistance.
He inched closer until her back pressed against the fridge. She hissed at the coldness of the steel, chilling her skin but not the fire burning within. Her heart pounded so loudly surely he could hear it, too.
He dropped his gaze to her bare breasts and skimmed his tongue over his full bottom lip, dragging it between his teeth in a seductive manner. He wanted to devour her, that was obvious. He met her stare. Eyes blazed with desire, like he was a starving man and she a thick, juicy steak. She wasn’t sure she could stop him or that she even wanted to.
He was hot in that athletic kind of way. Handsome. Fit. Sexy. Charming. Everything most women loved in a man. And he stared at her with lust-filled eyes. He wanted her. Was she crazy in denying herself this? Would any woman in her right mind pass up this chance?
Pecks flexed under his tight t-shirt with the smallest adjustment of her hands above her head. She itched to touch him, run her fingers over the peaks and valleys of his muscles and body.
Delicious. Plain and simple.
He released his lip and flicked his tongue again, leaving his bottom lip plump and moist. She clamped her jaw and ground her molars together to keep from pushing up on her toes and sucking his lip into her mouth until they both couldn’t see straight.
She needed to be fucked within an inch of her life so she remembered who she was. An attractive woman who enjoyed sex and wanted to be desired. Deserved to be desired.
Whether she crossed the line with him or forbade herself the pleasure and forever wondered what it’d be like, whatever decision she made damned her.
“Your body is telling me we can.” His breath was minty like spearmint gum. His voice sounded rough and ragged, his restraint waning. Like at any moment, he might snap and take her right there against the fridge.
She understood the feeling. Her internal strife raged on. The angel and devil sitting on her shoulders bickered with each other, confusing the hell out of her.
He rolled his erection against her belly.
All thoughts other than those focused on his nearness fluttered away like dragonflies on a warm summer breeze. Even through their layers of clothing she recognized his incredible size. Long, hard, and thick. Just the idea of him filling her had her dizzy with lust.
“Your body is saying yes, Stacey.”
“Sweetie, you know this isn’t right.” Perhaps using a motherly tone would trigger something in him, make him think twice before they crossed the point of no return, and from which she was quickly losing her grasp. She tugged on her arms, but he tightened his grip.
He rocked into her again, his hardness soft against her curves. She chewed the inside of her cheek so hard the metallic flavor of her own blood seeped onto her tongue. Maybe it was the fact she hadn’t been with a man in so long. Or he was so damn good-looking. Perhaps the way he stared at her like she was the most desirable, delectable woman on the planet. Whatever it was, she hadn’t felt so sexy or wanted in a very long time. The feeling was intoxicating.
Transferring both of her hands into one of his, he released the knot of hair at the top of her head. Her long locks fell in waves, tickling her bare shoulders. He weaved his fingers into her tresses and tilted her head toward him.
No fear, no intimidation, no worry about the line they were about to cross. Just hungry longing in his eyes.
A muscle ticked in his jaw and he scanned her face as if looking for any sign of regret or disapproval. When his gaze stopped at her mouth, he slipped his tongue between his own lips, wetting them. She dropped her head back against the fridge and sucked her lower lip between her teeth. Her fight to prevent this situation dissipated.
He was sexier than Chris Hemsworth in Thor.
What did he taste like? How would his tongue feel against her own, against her skin, between her legs? She shivered at the thought, knowing it would be amazing. These last several minutes had been the most erotic of her life.
Before another thought could enter her mind, he gave her what she craved but wouldn’t ask for or say out loud. He let go of her hands, gripped her face, and slammed his mouth against hers. She clung to his biceps as he assaulted her mouth. His lips were soft, but the kiss hard. Desperate. Merciless. It caught her off guard and lit her on fire. He thrust his tongue between her lips, imitating the motion she desired between her legs. Their tongues dueled and danced, lips locking together. She lost sight of all her arguments as to why they shouldn’t do this and gave in.
He tasted of mint with a hint of lime. The invasion of flavor made her giddy. Not only did his beachy scent consume her, but he was like summer days in the hot sun with a mojito. He tasted like a beach vacation. She could get lost in him, in this moment.
Possessing her mouth, he licked into her in a way that made her want to explode. He drank her in, seeking out the feel and taste of her. Kissed like a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. And boy, did she want to hand herself over on a silver platter.
Sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him into her, she took some initiative. Nipped at his bottom lip, drawing it into her mouth and sucking on the flesh hard. He growled, the vibration in his chest rumbling against her. The sound excited her, encouraged her.
Sliding her tongue over his teeth and the roof of his mouth, she explored every part, familiarizing his taste, the way he was built. A tremor shook him, and his cock grew impossibly harder against her abdomen. He could be the death of her, but it would be a glorious demise.
“Ren,” she panted.
He smiled against her mouth as if at that moment he knew for sure she would give herself over.
Dragging his hips back just enough, he slipped his hand between their bodies. He placed a little pressure on her inner thighs and she separated her legs enough for his fingers. Pulling the fabric of her bikini bottoms to the side, he touched her wet, swollen flesh.
Yes!
“Fuck.” Her breath whooshed out with her cry. “You feel amazing,” he whispered against her mouth. A dizziness washed over her. If he hadn’t been so close, holding her upright, she’d melt into a puddle at his feet. “I knew you would. Silky. Soft. Swollen. All for me.”
He speared his tongue between her lips and eased a finger inside her pussy. Air stuck in her lungs. He circled his thumb over her clit, and her knees buckled. She fisted his shirt to keep her balance while he fucked her with his finger.
Breaking the kiss, he fixed his gaze on her. Stroking his finger languidly, he drew out her pleasure, repeating the movement over and over again until she thought she’d lose her mind. Then he slid a second finger deep inside her, curling the digits and touching a sensitive spot.
; A strangled sound—something between a moan, a cry, and a growl—fled her lips. An intense feeling so exquisite and exhilarating her vision blurred and she trembled. He caressed her like he knew her intimately, like they’d done this many times before, finding the spots that caused her to ripple toward ecstasy.
“What are you doing to me?” She clung to him, her orgasm building to a height she had never reached or imagined.
“I’m going to make you come all over my fingers,” he growled next to her ear. “Then you’re going to come again, all over my cock.” His gravelly voice and sexy words pushed her closer to the edge.
Lowering to her breast, he pulled a nipple into his mouth, and sucked hard. Tugged with his teeth, teasing a few seconds before releasing. He performed the same torture to her other breast.
He was everywhere. The world revolved around this moment. Not the ticking of the clock above the stove, or the children laughing outside in the street could shift her focus. His hands, mouth, and body owned her. He returned his mouth to hers, kissing her like his life depended on it, like her life depended on their connection.
Waves of her orgasm came on strong, crashing into her like a twelve-foot-tall wave hitting the shore during a hurricane. Everything inside tingled, her ears thundered, and then she exploded into a million pieces. She screamed her release, his name slipping from her lips like a prayer as her sex pulsed and her juices coated his fingers. Her ragged breath burst from her lungs, burning her from the inside out.
He kept his fingers inside her, caressing the remaining waves and ripples and revving her up again. Could she possibly come again after such an explosive orgasm? She didn’t know the answer, but she sure as hell wanted to try.
Withdrawing his fingers, he slipped one between his lips, closed his eyes, and drew out a moan. The most sensual sight she’d ever witnessed: Him sucking her juices off his finger. Her core clenched in need, the need to have him, his cock inside her.
Let Me Love You Page 3
