Seductive Moments

by Altonya Washington

  Spreading her more to adequately welcome his frame also deepened the penetration. Ray almost wept from the pleasure she’d been missing for so long. She felt equal parts loose, limber, taut and desperate, while she wavered at the crest of orgasm. His skin was slick against her fingers, and yet nothing masked the dense muscle packed beneath. She could almost envision the seductive ripple of the sleek ebony as he drove her into the wall without mercy. She welcomed the minor discomfort brought on by his attention. It had been too long and she needed to be reminded.

  Barker Grant reminded her for the rest of the night.

  * * *

  He reminded her well into the wee hours of the next morning, as well. She woke to the decadent slide of his velvet mouth across her hips, the small of her back and up the dip of her spine before he repeated the course. Ray snuggled the side of her face deeper into the pillow and luxuriated in the sensation of being so completely worshipped by touch.

  Her slight writhing against the mess of coverings gave him just enough room to smooth a hand beneath her hip. He claimed her sex with his middle finger, while his thumb launched a rigorous assault on her clit. Ray sputtered a succession of gasps as she grew more lucid. The assault merely heightened. Barker had two fingers at work inside her then. He took her to the edges of fierce climax and somehow—expertly—refused to let her tip over the treacherous edge.

  His mouth had returned to suck and nibble the supple flesh at her hip. His teeth grazed and soothed, making way for his tongue to ease the pleasurably painful ache. The rigor with which his thumb circled her core eased a fraction. The move caused Ray’s inner muscles to move viciously to squeeze the invading digits, bathing them in an abundance of her creamy flow as she labored to find her release.

  She was whining her approval into a nearby pillow and being slammed by waves of orgasmic overload when she heard the telltale crinkling of condom foil as he ripped into another package. Just how prepared was he? She had wondered more than once that night...day—she’d lost track of the time.

  When Barker moved to take her from behind, the swift unapologetic lunge wedged a shocked cry into her whining. He captured her hips, timing her pace to his satisfaction, which was savage and merciless at times, yet delectably smooth and coaxing at others. She never wanted the moment to end.

  It didn’t, naturally. There were no complaints, not when the enviable length and width of his sex went even more rigid inside her seconds before eruption. Ray came with stunning ferocity, and she could feel her need dampening the twisted sheets beneath them.

  Barker followed her down, shielding her slight frame with his broad one as the waves of sexual unrest receded. Again, his hand smoothed down her belly to cup her mound.

  “Barker...plea...mmm...” Her lazy words surged when his thumb launched another exploration of her clit and core. She didn’t know whether her words were a cry for retreat or continuance.

  Barker took them for the latter. Sensing this, Ray accepted that he was offering her only a scant break before he returned for more of her. As time was precious, she closed her eyes in hopes of catching the briefest of naps.

  * * *

  Ray woke later that morning—early afternoon, technically—to the smell of coffee and...scones? Yes...blueberry—her nostrils confirmed it, flaring to take in the fragrance that crowded the room.

  Barker, wearing only his jeans slung low on lean hips, knelt near her side of the bed and waved a mug of coffee before her nose. Ray barely cracked open an eye. Her heart lurched, not at the sight of the tall cup emblazoned with the emblem of her preferred diner three doors down, but at the man who presented it.

  He was an amazing thing to look at, and part of her couldn’t believe he was actually there and...in such a capacity. With a sigh, she set the thought to the back burner of her mind. There’d be plenty of time for that later. Much later.

  “You need to eat,” he said.

  “’Kay” was her sleepy response, but she made no effort to move. “Are we done?” she asked.

  Barker didn’t answer straight away. He preferred to take his time observing the provocative image she cast lying half in half out of the wrinkled mass of covers. Arousal coursed hot and wickedly at the sight of a long, shapely calf, lush thigh and hint of honey-brown cheek. She’d slept on her stomach, with her arms hidden beneath a pillow and half of her lovely face illuminated by a quiet smile.

  “No ma’am,” he finally answered. “But I’m gonna need you to eat. Can’t have you giving out on me before I’m done with you. Up now, there’s food to be had.”

  The bass carrying his voice accompanied a firm chord that brooked no argument. A bit more lucid then, Ray had no qualms about pushing aside the covers. She got to her knees while reaching for the tall cup. For Rayelle Keats, coffee was life.

  She took her first sip of the creamy French roast. No sugar, she noted, thinking of how much of her favorite treat she’d consumed during the trip. God, the man was observant. She relished the hot flood of the beverage through her system and smiled.

  Barker had settled against the bottom of a powder-blue Queen Anne chair and simply took in the sight of her.

  For Rayelle, it didn’t take long for understanding to strike. She felt her cheeks burn and knew it had nothing to do with the temperature of her coffee. She could practically see herself perched on her knees at the edge of the bed, stark naked from a night of very excellent sex and gulping down coffee like a mad woman. When she thought it over, it didn’t sound so bad. Then she recalled Barker’s dazed expression.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He frowned a little as he smiled. “You’ll have to tell me why you feel the need to say so.”

  Ray shifted to the head of the bed, coffee in one hand, while she used the other to tug at the top sheet. “I’m not used to having company.”

  “Good.”

  Her cheeks were on fire then. Nerves were having their way with her, something she rarely, if ever, experienced. “I don’t wear a lot of clothes at home.” She winced at hearing the first words that came to her mind take flight on her tongue.

  “Good,” Barker replied. “You won’t be needing your clothes for a while.”

  Ray sipped from her cup and then used it to motion toward Barker. “See, you were kind enough to grab some of yours.”

  “Some.”

  He stood then, and Ray forgot all about her divine coffee. He hadn’t bothered to secure the button fly, and a slight tug sent the jeans to the floor. He wore nothing beneath.

  “Better?” He stepped from the denim.

  Yes, she answered inside her head. To be honest, the man wore a pair of jeans better than most runway models she’d seen.

  “Thanks.” She tipped her cup in satisfaction.

  Barker moved in to take the cup. “You need to eat.” He set the cup to the beige oak dresser on the other side of the chair. “But you won’t need much energy for this.”

  Ray’s breath caught in her throat when he shoved her lightly to her back and followed her down. Instead of covering her, he hovered at her waist.

  Settling on his stomach, Barker captured her thighs, spreading them to reveal what he’d all but branded with his name during the course of the long, exquisite night they’d shared. Breathing seemed to be a fruitless endeavor when he took her with his tongue. Immediately, her core muscles convulsed around the thrusting organ. She was greedy for the bliss it provided and put her best effort into conquering what he seemed set on withholding. She wanted everything he had to give.

  Unfortunately, Barker wasn’t in the mood to allow it. Ray’s fingers threaded through his thick, gossamer-soft hair in an attempt to tug him deeper, enough to shove her over the line into sublime elation. Alas, Barker wasn’t in any hurry. Hands vise-tight on her thighs, he kept her anchored to the bed and open to a slow, tormenting exploration of her sex. His scent all over her body was
an aphrodisiac of the highest caliber. He could’ve breathed in her fragrance for the rest of the day and night.

  The way she moved in his hands, reacting with the fiercely feminine sounds of desire and satisfaction...she was going to make it impossible for him to walk away. Idiot, he thought while feverishly drinking her in. He’d known there’d be no walking away since long before he walked into her apartment the previous day. She was a woman no man could walk away from once he’d had her.

  He had no intention of letting this end. The question was how to get her intentions to align with his. Sex? Barker rotated his tongue deep, languidly, and felt a new rush of her intimate moisture begin to coat his taste buds as her fingers weakened in his hair.

  No, sex wasn’t the way...but oh, what a side benefit it was. He’d need that benefit, as he suspected the beauty, who was ordering him not to stop, believed she’d never see him again once he’d had his fill.

  Oh, yes, he was going to enjoy changing her mind.

  Chapter 3

  They woke the next morning tucked in each other’s arms on the sofa, where they’d cuddled after yet another exhaustive and illicit romp the night before.

  The romp had started in the shower, continued in the bedroom and resumed halfway to the kitchen. Sleep arrived as subtle as a thousand-pound weight. Barker and Rayelle crashed on the sofa following a late-night snack of ginger ale and Pop-Tarts.

  Ray woke feeling well-rested instead of panicked or embarrassed. She’d held nothing back with Barker Grant—a man she didn’t know well before—a man she still didn’t know. They hadn’t exactly spent all their time together talking. In their defense, they’d spent enough time talking in the Bahamas and during the many months prior to that, just after his best friend had started a relationship with hers. Given that, Ray supposed they’d put in enough talking time to warrant all the other things they’d done for the past forty-eight hours. And yet...she still wasn’t sure that it was.

  Barker was waking then, following a lazy stretch. He put a kiss to Ray’s head and stood, taking her with him by way of slinging her over his shoulder.

  “We were on our way to the kitchen before we got sidetracked last night.” She slapped at his shoulders. “Scones and Pop-Tarts don’t exactly qualify as a filling meal.”

  Barker’s long strides slowed and then stopped altogether as he grunted a curse. He bowed his head as if to consider her argument. The consideration was fleeting, however, and he continued on to the bedroom.

  Ray laughed. “This isn’t the way to the kitchen!”

  “Remind me of what exactly you have in your kitchen besides end pieces of bread, four Saltines and less than half a liter of ginger ale?”

  “There’s my box of Earl Grey,” she said.

  “Right.” His tone was flat.

  Barker deposited Ray on the center of her bed when they entered the room. Leaving her there, he took his phone from the bureau, where he’d left it after returning from the diner for scones the day before.

  Ray waited, tucking her legs beneath her. Gone was her self-consciousness over parading naked around her home before him. The way Barker’s bottomless gaze followed her was a decadence she didn’t mind savoring. She tuned in to his phone conversation then. Intrigue pooled in her almond-toned eyes when she realized he was ordering groceries. He wrapped up the call, having instructed whomever was on the other end to “charge his account.” Ray’s jaw dropped thoroughly. Her gaze, however, was level with her voice when she spoke.

  “You don’t have to buy me groceries.”

  “I know that.” Barker set aside the phone and returned to the bed, where he sat opposite her. Leaning close, he planted a fist on either side of her hips.

  “I’m not trying to buy you, Ray, but I’m not a fun person to be around when I’m hungry.”

  Her heart flipped over the slow, adorable smile that emerged, but her head was stuck on his prior comment. “I don’t think you’re trying to buy me, Barker.”

  “I don’t see how that’s possible.” He posed the argument softly. “I bet all I own that men try it all the time.”

  They did. In the world of exotic dance and gentlemen’s clubs, such things were common. “I should say that no one’s ever tried it with groceries.”

  A touch of Barker’s innate playfulness entered his tone. “You’re going to have to recognize when a man’s being a jackass and when he’s being considerate.”

  “I’ll work on it.”

  Satisfied, he rolled a broad, dark shoulder. “See that you do.”

  “Will you at least let me thank you for it?”

  He gave a full shrug then. “That’s allowed.”

  “Thank you.” She scooted closer. “Will you let me thank you with a kiss?”

  Barker grinned. “That’s always allowed.”

  * * *

  The groceries arrived before lunchtime. Barker and Rayelle were both showered and presentable to receive the order, which consisted of twelve expertly yet densely packed plastic bags. Instead of having the generously tipped delivery driver carry them up, Barker and Rayelle handled that part of the job themselves.

  “I won’t have to shop for at least a month,” Ray marveled as they stepped from the elevator.

  Once again, they met up with the outspoken Amelia Shepard.

  “I’m glad to see Miss Ray is treating you well,” she said to Barker.

  “I needed groceries anyway, Miss Amelia.”

  “Mmm-hmm... I’m not just talking about the groceries, love.”

  Silence carried for several beats following the woman’s departure.

  “So how thick are your walls?” Barker asked.

  “No idea.” Ray grimaced. “If it hasn’t happened already, by morning it’ll be all over the building that we spent the weekend together.”

  “I can live with that.” Barker sent her a wink. “A weekend with you will send my stock through the roof.”

  “Good to know, since I already planned to tell Miss Amelia we’re only friends. That still wouldn’t have worked out well for you, though. She would’ve just asked for my help trying to set you up with one of her nieces.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “That good,” Ray corrected. “They’re beautiful, but married to men Miss Amelia hates.”

  Laughter carried from the corridor as Barker and Ray carted the groceries inside the apartment. Barker dutifully unpacked the items and left them on the kitchen table while Ray did the same with the packages on the counter.

  “It’ll only take a few minutes to put everything away, and then it’s all yours,” she called over her shoulder.

  Barker had already volunteered to fix lunch. Ray worked diligently at the counter for several minutes. She was putting a box of macaroni into a top cabinet when she felt his hand at her waist.

  “Lunch, Barker,” she reminded him once he’d undone the button of her jeans and was at work on the zipper. She placed the pasta on its shelf and had another box in hand ready to place alongside it. Her hand suddenly weakened on the box and would’ve taken a tumble were it not for Barker’s expert catch. His other hand never once wavered from her jeans.

  “Bar—”

  “Shh... I’m only checking to see if you kept to the agreement.”

  “You know I did.” Her words were breathless. “You watched me dress, didn’t you?”

  The “agreement” had been clothes only—no underwear.

  “A good reporter always checks,” Barker murmured. His mouth brushed Ray’s neck and made its way up to suck her double-pierced lobe, bereft of earrings just then.

  Ray saw no point in arguing with his reasoning. She couldn’t have argued anyway. She doubted her brain was capable of allowing much in the way of speech.

  “See?” she managed once his hand slid into her open jeans and his thumb brushed the bare mound of
flesh above her sex.

  “Good girl,” he said and then, as if to reward her for keeping her word, lowered his thumb to lightly work her clit.

  Ray let her head fall back, mouth open to emit a throaty wail. The sound caught, incapable of total escape when his middle finger joined in with the sensual torture as he took thorough possession of her sex. The long, thick digit slid high and brought Ray to the tips of her sneakers in reaction to surging ecstasy. She tried to reach up and back, wanting to lose her fingers in the ebony crop of his soft hair. But her hands seemed capable only of clutching the doors of the open cabinet she faced.

  Barker feasted on Ray’s ear as if the lobe gave him nourishment. He supposed it did—just as the relentless squeeze and release of her inner muscles working overtime around his finger turned the digit slick with her need. Mercilessly, he pushed her further. His fingers skirted the hem of the lavender Henley she wore before they disappeared beneath.

  Ray flinched when she felt him there.

  “Shh...” he urged again. “Gotta check it all.”

  She could only reply with a brief quaking moan when his hand closed over a bare breast. His thumb started to flick across a hard nipple, and her core worked with greater intensity around his invading finger. She shattered when he tugged at the nub before he pinched it. She gulped a great amount of air as her climax slammed into her. Residual shudders lasted for long moments once the orgasm began to ebb.

  Barker eased the intensity of the potent strokes he’d been subjecting Ray to. Gradually, his fingers stilled and then withdrew. She eased her desperate grip on the cabinet doors, trading it for one at the edge of the chrome sink. She remained there until her breathing bore some resemblance to its normal pace.

  Barker kept a steadying hand at her waist once his other slipped from beneath her top. He dropped a quiet kiss to her ear and squeezed her hip again.

  “Come to bed when you’re done here.”

  The pat he gave her bottom was more of a squeeze and had Ray steeling herself against it as desire returned on an impossibly strong wave.