Shayla Black - [Wicked Lovers 02]

by Decadent

  Ecstasy burned in his gut and clawed up his cock, overwhelming and undeniable. Luc tried to stave it off—reciting recipes in his head, thinking about the master chef he’d hated in culinary school—but only the shimmering heat of his skyrocketing need came through. The background music of Kimber wailing with building pleasure told him she was about to orgasm in a big way.

  Luc just couldn’t hold the pleasure in anymore. The base of his spine tingled. His balls drew up. Oh, God. The heat was burning him, inch by inch up his cock, taking liquid fire with it. Then he erupted on a shout, long and agonizing and gritty. And all the while, Kimber’s mouth worked on him, her frantic, uneven sucking drawing every ounce of pleasure out of him.

  Drawing in a ragged breath, he pulled out of her mouth and found her gaze, unfocused, frenetic need tightening her face. Her body was taut, like a bowstring. Her heart beat wildly at the base of her neck. He reached around her and pumped the vibe in and out of her ass once, twice.

  “Come, sweetheart. For us.”

  She didn’t need another word of urging. Hugging his thighs, she clung and mewled out her satisfaction, body thrashing, convulsing with every ripple of pleasure dominating her. Her cry echoed, and under her, he could hear the faint whispers of Deke praising her reaction, her flavor.

  As she came down, Luc extracted the vibe slowly. Kimber moaned and crumpled to the ground at Deke’s side. She looked at him, eyes soft with something so womanly and profound. He couldn’t place it, but the impact of that expression hit him square in the chest. Then she turned that expression on Deke. It amplified, until it was like a sound, a call, a plea.

  Then she burst into tears.

  Deke tensed.

  “Oh. Oh my—What . . . ? I can’t . . .” Kimber drew in a huge, heaving sob.

  Luc dropped to his knees next to her. “Sweetheart?”

  She laid a comforting hand on his arm, but she opened hazel eyes drenched with tears, still ripe with a woman’s knowledge. That gaze clung to Deke as she reached out to him, too.

  “You make me f-feel. It’s . . . I’ve never felt more turned inside out or more alive than when I’m with you.”

  Luc rejoiced. Kimber knew this was right, too. She felt it, somewhere deep down. He smiled and reached for her.

  But one glance at Deke had Luc’s stomach plummeting to his toes. His cousin looked both elated and sick. He had a tight rein on some emotion, not fury, but something damn close.

  “No emotion,” Deke growled at her, as he rose to his feet and grabbed his clothes. “Just sex. Nothing but sex, damn you.”

  Then he stalked to the door and slammed it, the finality of the sound echoing all throughout the room.

  Chapter Six

  “I want to talk to you,”Kimber said the following morning as she seated herself at the kitchen table where Deke sat nursing his coffee.

  She looked good in red cotton shorts and a tank top. Her glower, however, wasn’t as appealing.

  “Luc is asleep,” she went on, “so he can’t get the ‘wrong idea.’ But I have to say this.”

  Deke tensed. She had confrontation on her mind, pure and simple. “I don’t want to talk.”

  “Okay, then listen.”

  When even the sound of her voice gave him a hard-on, that wasn’t good. But this morning, he heard a trembling quality to her words. Not a surprise, since he’d been an utter bastard to her yesterday morning and again last night.

  But it was either keep distance between them or fuck her. Claim her. He knew she wanted him at arm’s length—not between her thighs. Smart girl. He’d just fuck up her life.

  “You got three minutes.”

  “This will take less than two.” Now she sounded pissed, which was better. Pissed he could handle. If she was mad, she’d be all right. It was her vulnerability that shredded his guts.

  Her tears last night . . . God, listening to her cry in Luc’s arms had nearly done him in. Luc had soothed her, whispered to her. Those soft sobs and torn breaths had eaten at Deke, gnawing on his resolve. He wanted to be the one to comfort her. Dangerous want. If he’d held her, caressed her last night, he would have ended up making love to her. Not fucking her. The kind of sweet, soft loving meant to reassure. The kind that would bond them together.

  For her sake and his sanity, he’d resisted.

  First jealousy, now this. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Kimber drew in a bracing breath. “After yesterday morning and last night, I can’t stay. You don’t want me here, and I know why. Thanks for the help you’ve given me. I’ll get my things and be gone by ten.”

  What the . . . ? Gone by ten. Her words should have been a relief, but Kimber was a fighter. Why would she suddenly concede and retreat? And why did the thought of her leaving take a gash out of something inside him that felt suspiciously like his heart?

  She turned away from him. Even so, he couldn’t miss the vulnerable expression tightening her face as she rose and crossed the kitchen and exited the room. He could just let her go, should let her walk out now . . . Woulda, coulda, shoulda.

  Deke stood and scrambled to block her path. “You know why I don’t want you here, huh? What do you think you know?”

  A frown of incredulity wrinkled her brow. “I know what men have been saying about me since puberty hit. I rarely wear makeup and I don’t own a dress. I hate lace and I think fatigue pants are a great fashion do, despite what magazines say. I never mastered the fine arts of giggling and eyelash batting. I like fishing, loathe cooking, and can drink a six-pack of beer in under four minutes, if challenged.” She tossed back her head, fighting tears, and her face said that she was annoyed because of it. “I’m a tomboy. And I know for a lot of guys—for you—it’s a turnoff.”

  Her comment was so wrong, Deke almost couldn’t process it. “You think I’m turned off by you?”

  The duh! expression would have made him laugh if this wasn’t so serious. “When I first came here in lace and heels, you wanted me. But then you saw through it, and like in high school, you came to view me as one of the guys. It turned you off, so you told me to leave you alone unless we were in bed. There, you intended to live up to your promise. That proves my point.”

  Was she serious? “That proves you know jack shit, kitten.”

  She planted a hand on her hip and sent him a challenging stare. “I’ve been down this road. More than once. You don’t have to shield me from the truth. I can take it.”

  Suddenly, Deke wanted to pound the face of every high school creep who’d made her feel less than female. But it was an out, an easy one. Letting her believe the lie would get him off the hook.

  But it would be chickenshit. And he couldn’t hurt her on purpose.

  He sighed, defeated. “Have I done anything yet to baby your feelings?”

  Kimber hesitated. “No.”

  “Exactly. I wouldn’t pretend you turned me on if you didn’t. And this shit about you not being . . . feminine enough. It’s crap. It isn’t makeup and giggling that makes a woman. It’s her smarts, her moxie, the way her sexuality flows through her.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Reaching for her hand, he squeezed it. “You’ve got it all, kitten. I like that you’re straightforward. You don’t get freaked out by my profession. You’ve got a killer sense of humor when you’re not tense. If I’m grouchy, it’s because you turn me on too much.”

  “Too much?” Skepticism shot from her hazel eyes. “You want me too much?

  Tugging on her hand, he draped it across his fly, covering the unflagging erection he had whenever she came within ten feet of him.“Does it feel like I’m lying?”

  Through his sweat shorts, she gripped him, stroked her nimble fingers up and down his rigid length. “No.”

  Deke grabbed her wrist to stop her. Between his crazy urge to hold her and the lust she was inciting with her every touch, she was treading dangerous waters. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

  With her free hand, she gr
abbed at his shorts and began to push them down. “I can finish you. Didn’t I do it last night?”

  Her mouth. Oh, hell. Yes, she’d totally finished him. The wet, silky heaven had been paradise. Luc had told her exactly how to unravel him, and she had. Slow, hard, a little bite—and he’d been a goner. The thought that she might do it again, here and now, made his cock pulse under her hand. She gripped him even harder in answer.

  He grabbed her fingers, which were pushing at his shorts, with his free hand and his last bit of wits. “Don’t.”

  Kimber didn’t pause. She stopped and jerked her hands away. “You want me but you don’t want me to touch you? And since when does a man who wants a woman too much turn down a blow job?”

  “If you push me right now, I’ll want more.”

  “What does that mean?” she snapped.

  “Your virginity is off-limits. Don’t test me, or you’ll find yourself naked and impaled on my cock. It’s all I can fucking think about. If I get inside you, I’ll stay inside you—all damn day if you let me. And I’ll come back for more tonight. And Luc will want to be next in line.”

  A sharp intake of breath. A sudden flush staining her cheeks. A softening of her combative posture. “Oh.”

  “I’m on a short fuse, so I’d get the hell away from me if I were you.”

  But Kimber didn’t move. For a long moment, she just stared at him. Deke resisted the urge to squirm uncomfortably. There was something going on in that pretty head of hers. God help them both if she gave any indication that she wanted to have sex with him. He didn’t have much self-control left. He’d drag her back to Luc’s bed, wake his cousin up and . . . do something he’d regret.

  A long silence later, she stepped closer, placing her hands on his shoulders and stepping on her tiptoes to reach him. She settled her lips over his and gave him a soft, almost chaste kiss.

  “You didn’t want to admit any of that, but you did it to spare my feelings.”

  Perceptive. He’d give her that.

  “That’s really . . . decent of you. You could have let me believe I wasn’t feminine enough for you, but you didn’t take the easy way out.” A relieved grin broke out across her face. “Thank you. I really respect that.”

  Deke shrugged. He was stupidly pleased to have put a smile on her face. “Just being fair.”

  “I should be fair, too, and admit that I’m off balance. You and Luc are a potent pair. Both of you turn me on, but”—she released a shaky breath—“I respond to you a lot more than I thought I would. When you touch me, I melt and ache. I’ve never felt this way.”

  He got to her, more than Luc? More than Jesse? Euphoria and lust blasted him in a potent combination, raced through his veins like a drug. In the snap of a finger, he was high on Kimber.

  Shit. He shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t—

  Too late.

  Deke was already grabbing her, thrusting his fingers into her hair, cupping her jaw, then dropping his head to ravage her mouth. With a little gasp, she opened to him, met his possessive kiss.

  Curling his tongue around hers, he breathed in her heat, swallowed her moan. He held her tight. And his brain began to shut down.

  Now. Sooner than now. He had to taste her, be as close as possible. Deep, deep into her mouth. Her flavor knocked him on his ass. Like heaven.

  Then she molded her body against his, arched into him and pressed those sweet breasts right against him. Touch them. He had to. Get them bare.

  With one hand, he swept her tank strap down one shoulder, then the other. He pushed it low enough to free her breasts and run his palms over the firm mounds. Not large, not small. Just right. And those nipples, hard. Always ready for his mouth. His.

  Soon . . .

  Focusing on the remaining barriers, Deke yanked the tank down her waist, then grabbing the waistband of her shorts and panties, dragged it all down her hips and legs.

  Naked. Perfect. Boiling him with want.

  Raking a pair of fingers through her slit, Deke confirmed his suspicion. She was wet. Very wet. Hard breathing, eyes dilated and begging, she gripped his shirt in desperate fists. Thank God she was aroused.

  So was he.

  Deke lifted her by the waist, ignoring her gasp, and set her on the kitchen table. He’d fantasized many times about having her spread across it like his next meal, his sustenance. The reality ratcheted up his need. His heartbeat soared. His cock throbbed.

  Pulling his shirt over his head, he tossed it away. Then, chest heaving, he pushed his shorts down his legs until Kimber could see nothing of him but bare skin and naked want.

  With rapt eyes, she took him in, unblinking, unwavering. Unbelievable .

  Gripping her thighs, he dragged her hips to the edge of the table and leaned over her, blanketing his body with hers. Searing heat. Peachy, sugary smell. She drove him insane. His gaze sought hers. Found it. Wide, aroused, trusting.

  Want seared him, sizzling his blood. On fire.

  Touch her. He had to. He kissed her flat belly, dipped his tongue in her navel. She sucked in a breath. He stepped closer, so near her heat. She spread her legs wider, gaze still clinging to him. Silent, open, drowning in want.

  Her nipples were hard. Standing up, thick and swollen. Irresistible. He swooped down and took one in his mouth. Devouring it. Like candy. Better, actually. He swiped his tongue over it, nipping the tender flesh when it hardened even more. Hmm. Perfect.

  Kimber panted, little whimpering sounds peppering the air as she curled her hands around his head, trying to get her fingers in his military-short hair and tug him closer.

  “Deke . . .”

  That note in her voice, pleading. It forced him to look up again. Her stare singed him.

  Claim her mouth. Her sweet kiss, all accepting and impassioned, kicked him with another jolt of lust.

  Fuck. Her. Now.

  He enveloped her hips in his hands, loving the way his palms nearly swallowed her, the way she was open to him, and he could see the wet, welcoming cream of her pussy, her swollen folds.

  Taking himself in hand, he positioned his cock against her entrance.

  Steamy. Hot. She scalded the head of his cock as he savored the moment before he’d push into her, make her his.

  Jesus, he was shaking. Desire piled on top of desperate need, wrapped in the harsh demands of his body. And something else . . .

  Take her. Claim her.

  “Deke,” she pleaded, both for him to push forward—and to stop.

  Stop? No. Hell no! Why should he stop?

  Because he shouldn’t do this. To her. To himself. The reason escaped him. She was open, wet, laid out on his table like a freakin’ banquet of delight, eyes shining.

  With tears.

  Tears? The sight, the question, snapped him out of his lust-induced haze.

  He looked around. Clothes strewn across the floor. Sunlight filtering in through wide-open windows, slanting across her breasts. She was spread out across the same damn table they’d eaten dinner on.

  She was a virgin.

  He swallowed, knowing he should back off, leave her the hell alone. Right now, he was one thrust from changing their lives forever.

  Maybe . . . maybe it would be different this time. Kimber wasn’t a teenager. She wasn’t from a troubled family. She wasn’t Heather.

  If he thrust into her, she’d be his. His. Completely. His to hold on bad days, his to share smiles with, his to surprise, to tease, to please, to fuck . . .

  His to care for if something went horribly wrong.

  The lust jacking up his system iced over at that thought. He took a half step back.

  “Weren’t you going to stop me?” His voice creaked. For chrissake, he sounded like he was a hundred.

  Kimber hesitated. “Yes.”

  But he wasn’t convinced. “When?”

  “Well, I—I meant to. I tried.”

  Deke pulled up his shorts, tucking his erection back inside with a grimace. “Do you actually love this pop star y
ou’re chasing?”

  A blink. A glance away. A boulder of unease settled in his gut. Was she skittish because she didn’t love McCall or because she was trying not to throw her feelings for the pop star up in Deke’s face?

  She sat up, covered herself with her arms, drawing her legs up to her chest. “Would I be here trying to learn all this if I didn’t?”

  “Only you know why you’re really here. But I know you don’t comprehend the fire you’re playing with, little girl. Next time, say no. If Luc had been here, I might not have stopped. Next time, I might fuck you— and fuck the consequences.”

  LATE that night, Kimber dozed on Luc’s shoulder while they snuggled to an old black-and-white classic. His warmth curled around her. Safe. Comforting.

  By unspoken agreement, they didn’t discuss Deke, but her thoughts kept drifting back to him. Where was he?

  Somewhere in the house, a door slammed. The sound jerked her fully awake.

  Sitting up with a yawn and a stretch, she looked around in confusion. Still just Luc and the old movie.

  “Kimber!” A voice bellowed. Then she heard stomping in the rest of the house.

  A bolt of gladness and relief struck her. “Deke?”

  She had only to say his name once and he appeared in the doorframe, filling the space with his massive shoulders and huge presence. His breath rose and fell in heavy, angry pants. He swayed on his feet. Those blue eyes of his zeroed in on her wrapped in Luc’s arms. They stripped her clothes off with a glance. Immediately, her nipples beaded. She swallowed.

  “You’re drunk,” Luc bit out in disapproval beside her.

  “I wish. But not for lack of trying. If I was, I could have drowned out all desire to touch her.” Deke pinned Kimber to the sofa with a hot stare. “Then I could have passed out into oblivion without needing to feel her around my cock.”

  Kimber’s stomach clenched at his words. So did her sex.

  Why did this man get to her, despite being so dangerous and difficult, so angry? Luc was gentle and understanding, charming, seductive, talented. The desire he roused was gentle and beautiful.