“Of course I won’t play games, what are you on about?” I laughed, but it was uneasy.
“He’s always fancied you Holly, I know he has. He’s different with you than with everyone else.”
“Bollocks.”
She ignored me. “He’s such a softy and I don’t want him to get hurt like he did with Anna. I hoped you’d just both stay friends and leave it at that.” With anyone else it would be interfering, but I knew she meant well. He’d resisted me because he’d had one disastrous friends to lovers thing, and we had just been good mates. Then Dane had come along and upset the barrel. And I don’t think we were just friends anymore now.
“He’s a big boy Soph, he can handle himself.”
She gave me a look that said she knew I was hedging.
“He’s a nice, sensitive big kid with a tender heart. You’re too much for a guy like that, and he’s not enough for you.”
I stared back and she got up and started tidying magazines that didn’t need tidying. “It’s just fun, Sophie. You told me to lighten up, you brought Dane here.”
“I know. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt, and shit happens.”
“You don’t need to tell me that.”
She grinned. “No, I don’t do I? You heard from shit face again then?”
“He’s giving up sex and becoming a monk.”
“Seriously?” She was sat next to me before you could say u-turn.
“No, not seriously. He’s confused, but not that confused. He says he wished I could understand his needs —”
“His needs?” I was glad even Sophie got screechy sometimes and it wasn’t just me.
“He wishes I could understand his needs and be a bit less judgmental and a bit more generous and then we could go back to how we were and he could explore his true self as well.”
“Arrogant bastard. Generous? Judgmental? Who the hell does he—”
“I think he just misses the respectable cover he had, he’s not ready to come out about his kinkiness.”
“Shame.”
“I don’t think he really gets what true self means, seeing as he can’t even admit to himself what he wants.” I sighed and plucked at the chair cover. “I feel a bit sorry for him.”
“Sorry? You shouldn’t feel sorry.”
“Obviously not sorry enough to go back, but I do. He’s like a big…well he’s all front and no substance isn’t he?”
“A big fraud?”
“He’s not done it on purpose, he’s just tried to create this perfect image all his life and now he doesn’t know how to live up to it.”
“Mm. What are we going to do this afternoon then?” Sophie didn’t mind talking about shit face, but she drew the line when I started giving him excuses.
“Eat chocolates and watch a film, or go for a bracing walk?”
“You’ve got chocolates?”
I waved at the mountain of chocolate boxes under the Christmas tree; everyone sent chocolates at Christmas it seemed.
“Shall I make hot chocolate with marshmallows?” She was up and raiding the cupboards before I could answer. I worried for Charlie, he was good at making friends with girls it seemed, but who wouldn’t want a good looking, generous, sexy guy to be their best friend, and how many would say no when they’d got close enough to share everything but a bed? I wondered who had said no, Charlie or Sophie.
There weren’t any marshmallows, or hot chocolate, which put Soph into a bit of a sulk for the odd second or two, then she decided that after all she fancied a walk, followed by chocolates and film.
There was no sign of snow, which was par for the course in the northwest of England, but the ground was still crisp from a heavy frost and the breeze was keen enough to make us tighten the scarves around our faces and walk rather than talk.
The park was full of families, couples, everyone needing a break from turkey and being stuffed and we occasionally checked our mobiles for updates on the football score to judge whether the boys would return jubilant or sounding off about blind refs. Jubilant was still favored as the half time whistle was blown.
We didn’t do the normal loop around the lake, Sophie took a detour heading out through a side gate I’d never noticed before and onto a deserted country lane, less than five minutes later we were marching up the driveway of a small higgledy-piggledy cottage.
“Dane’s.” I didn’t like the look in Sophie’s eye, it looked far too naughty. “I said I’d feed the dogs.”
“What are you up to?”
“Come on.” She turned the key in the door and pushed the door open, then clicked the latch on the boot room door and we were immediately swamped by dogs. Or at least it seemed that way. I’d seen Dane’s Jack Russell terrier with him at the yard, bouncing around in search of rats and barking like some crazy dervish when he scented one, and I’d seen the whippet peering nervously from behind the seat. I hadn’t seen the Irish Wolfhound before, who was watching us now with doleful eyes like some old grizzly tramp, his whiplash tail doing a slow pendulum swing.
“He found Grizzler tied to the tree at the bottom of the lane a couple of weeks ago.” The dogs followed her back into the boot room and watched patiently as she put food out and then closed the door again. “Come on, I want to show you something.” She was halfway up the windy little staircase before she paused to check I was with her. “Come on.”
“But I don’t like to poke around when he’s not here, he might—”
“He doesn’t mind, honest. Come on.” I still felt like I was doing something I shouldn’t. One thing for certain, I’d never make a burglar.
The little bedroom at the top was a surprise. It was perfect country cottage romance with a hint of brusque male. The old oak floorboards had been polished by feet over the years, the lopsided window framed a perfect view of an apple orchard and the fields beyond. And then there was the bed. The perfect four-poster which, despite its moderate proportions, dominated the room, the bed you couldn’t ignore. Which was probably exactly why Dane had it there. I paused in the doorway as Sophie marched over to the window and perched her bum on the sill.
“I thought you and Dane weren’t close.”
“We aren’t close as in, you know close. He’s the big brother I never had.”
“The big brother that you slept with?”
She laughed. “Sure I slept with him, but that was just friendly, a bit of mutual giving, we needed each other. Just for a moment, you know?”
I didn’t know, because all the men I’d slept with I’d thought I’d been in love with, sex wasn’t comfort, sex was a spark, the touch paper that so often went off like a damp squib sizzling into nothingness. Even with Charlie it hadn’t been comfort, it had been simmering need.
“So this moment includes regular blow jobs and wandering round his bedroom?”
“I’m not like you, Holly. Sex is just sex, I fancy chips I have chips if they’re there. But don’t you dare tell him I called him chips.” She waggled a finger at me. “And I know my way round his bedroom because I’ve crashed here a time or two and I helped him when he moved in.” She traced her hand along the windowsill. “He needed a hand.” Abruptly she got to her feet. “And the other night just happened, he took it the way I did, a bit of fun. Look can we get back to why we’re here?” I decided to let her divert me, it wasn’t that skilful and I didn’t believe a word. Soph cared about people and she didn’t shag around. Her time with Dane must have meant something to her, just as her close friendship with Charlie did, and maybe the appearance of Sal had crashed her dreams. But she still cared, and she still hurt, even if she had decided to move on. I was a bit dubious about exactly what she was moving on to though. She’d set up our sexy little ménage the other day and now she was up to something again. I knew it, and it didn’t involve a feeling in my waters—more a hammering in my heart.
“Sure.” Be brave my girl.
“Come here.” So I did, I went over and sat next to her on the edge of the bed because the bad loo
k was back and I wanted to know why. “Dane has this fantasy.” Uh, oh. “If I did it he’d laugh at me and leave me waiting, but if you do it—” she ran her tongue over red berry lips “—it will be all his Christmas wishes come true.”
“And why exactly would I do it?”
“Because you want to.”
I did.
***
I was turned on something rotten. And I felt mildly ridiculous, if that’s possible. And I didn’t know which feeling was winning. But one thing I did know was that Sophie had gone and the bang of the door meant that Dane was back and I hoped to God he was on his own.
There was a click which I was sure was the door to the boot room opening, then excited yapping. Shit, don’t let them out, don’t let them up here. I closed my eyes and tried to shut out the image of ten tons of Irish Wolfhound crashing on to the bed, following by hysterical yapping terrier and the nervous whippet diving under the covers. Shit, shit, shit. Nervous tension flooded my body and I pulled against the ties, no way was I getting out of this. No escape. Being tied to the bed had seemed, momentarily, like a good idea. Well, the way Sophie had sold it had made it irresistible. Now Sophie had gone, and Dane was back it seemed fucking stupid. Particularly her finishing touches of a blindfold and gag. Okay, it was loose, but I couldn’t exactly yell out a warning and tell him to go away again until I got rescued.
My scalp tingled as I heard a creak, the bottom step. No pattering of tiny doggie footsteps, thank the fuck for that. Then another creak. Oh. My. God. What was I doing here? A squeak which could have been the door opening, then silence. My ears were doing their best to prick up so I could hear more, but it wasn’t working. All I could hear was my own uneven breathing, and the pounding of blood in my ears.
“Well, fuck me.” His voice was so low, so deep, so unexpectedly close it made me start and every tiny hair on my body prickle to attention. Not a good look I’m sure. And fucking him wasn’t quite the idea, not yet. I swallowed hard and my sex gave a little involuntary squeeze. There was another heavy footstep and I knew he must be at the foot of the bed.
I jumped, well my whole body did, when his hand came down on my naked skin and the low chuckle made me want to moan, except it was more of a strangled groan given the gag. He rubbed the large capable hand round on my stomach, his rough fingertips sending little sparks straight through my skin and into my bloodstream.
“I thought Christmas came but once a year.” And as he spoke he loosened the gag with one hand and before I had time to draw breath his sweet, sweet lips came down on mine. He tasted of beer, and burger, of mustard, tomato and hops and it should have made me retch, but it was heaven. I reached up to hold his head, to prolong the kiss, well I tried to reach up but my bound wrists stopped the movement abruptly and his lips briefly twitched into a smile at my little grunt of frustration.
His tongue skated along the outside of my teeth, along the tops of them, explored my mouth and then circled around my own tongue as though inviting me to play. So I did. And as my tongue met his the warmth of his hand stroked down my side from chest to hip, straight over the erogenous zone I call my waist and I took a sharp intake of breath, my teeth closing around the tip of his tongue. He stroked his way back up, this time his thumb tracing a firmer furrow that made my nipples harden and my thighs clench, well as much as they could clench given that my legs had been parted and my ankles fastened firmly to the posts at the bottom of the bed. His palm circled over my breast, with just enough weight to tantalize the fiery bud, and I whimpered into his mouth. He lifted his lips, sucking my tongue as he did so.
“You like that?” He scraped his fingertips up the sensitive skin of my boob, pulled my burning nipple between fingers and thumb and I was panting, literally panting for more. One finger traced from my throat down between my breasts, down the centre of my body with a steady even pace, never hesitating until it slipped between my folds, slid over my clit, curled into my pussy and the shiver that ran through me was pure electricity. “I can do whatever I want, as slowly as I want.” The low chuckle could have been announcing pleasure or torment. Soft lips came down on my stomach; he sucked in my skin, teasing, tempting, and my pussy spasmed around his finger with need. “No hurry.” I rocked my hips with frustration. I’d have been kicking and screaming by now if I could have, teasing him in the way he was me, if I’d not been laid out like some sacrificial lamb.
“Noooo.”
“No, as in you don’t want me to do things, or no as in not slowly?” He never got an answer because his hot mouth came down on my nipple and rendered me speechless, apart from the hiccupping moans which no way counts as speech in any form.
“How did you get in?” He’d stop sucking.
I gasped. “Soph.” Almost a word.
“Ah.” His tongue circled my other nipple, his teeth scraped over my breast and then he sucked, a stomach-warming suck that made me think I could probably have an orgasm off that alone if he’d only carry on for a while. He didn’t. He stopped, tugged softly on my lower lip then slid down between my legs. I was shaking, trembling with anticipation as I waited, I swear even my kneecaps joined in. His damp tongue hit my skin just at the side of my wobbly kneecap and I jumped, then shook as he licked his way with one long even stroke up my inner thigh all the way to the top. I never knew I could hold my breath for so long. He sucked on my labia, a gentle teasing, tugging suck. “You are so wet you know.”
Oh, I knew. Stick a finger, something, anything in the dam, for God’s sake. He shifted, licked his way up the other thigh and this time it was nicer, the heat shooting straight to the top. And when he reached the top he stopped, stopped and blew on my hot swollen lips and then blew a stream of cold air along me. I lifted my hips the few inches that I could, needing to get closer, needing more and he cupped his hands under my bum, holding me steady, exactly where he wanted me.
This time his clever tongue licked a path the length of my slit and when it reached the top he flicked against my clit in a way that made me moan. He did it again, and this time his tongue sank in a little deeper and made me clench around him before I forced myself to relax, to open, to let him in deeper. With each lick his tongue sought out a bit more of me, with each lick the trembles travelled deeper through my body and then his mouth closed around my swollen nub and as he sucked I came. No preamble, no buildup, the whole thing had been the buildup. I just came with uncontrollable shudders straight into his mouth as he sucked and licked and flicked until I couldn’t have said what day of the week it was.
He finally stopped, let me down and I grunted and sagged.
“Boxing Day.”
“Sorry?” He sounded bemused.
“It’s still Boxing Day.” See, I did know what day it was. “Just checking.” For my own sanity.
“And there’s lot more of it left.” He rubbed his thumb over my throbbing flesh and I mewled a sound that was part no and part yes.
“Good football match?” Okay, not normal mid sex conversation but I needed a brief distraction a bit of normality to ground me.
“Not as good as this.” His voice had that gruff edge which was quite a good contrast to my wobbly squeaks. The bed moved slightly and I guessed he’d stood up, then I heard the rustling, the unmistakable sound of him unzipping his flies and my body got all needy and desperate again. And I’d just got the image of his perfect cock in my mind when he flipped my blindfold off so that I could see the real thing. When cocks were handed out, Dane did well. It was as imposing as the rest of him, thick, long and glorious, slightly tipped at the end so that you knew with a tip of his pelvis he could hit your F, G, and H spots if they existed. And now the tip was a glorious purple, straining to be noticed, the smallest glistening pearl of pre-come between the slit. I let the tip of my tongue slide between my lips and he came closer so that I could lick him. And when he groaned, it sent a trickle of warmth to my pussy. I opened my mouth, strained to lift my head as far as I could and he slipped one large capable hand under me, threading
his fingers through my hair, holding me still as slowly he slid his length into my mouth. He didn’t stop the slow glide until he hit the back of my throat. For a moment I gagged, my throat tightening convulsively and he waited, not withdrawing just pausing until I relaxed and then he slid out and back in and this time I took him deeper. Deep throat? Naw, not my deal. But it was today. I wanted as much as I could take, I wanted to grip the tip of him in my throat, I wanted to taste him. His fingers tightened in my hair as he thrust, steady thrusts that turned me on as much as him. As he grew that tiny bit harder, twitched inside my mouth, he paused slightly, and I lifted my head higher urging him on and as I did I swallowed and that did him. I didn’t really feel the spurt, I was too conscience of the way he pulsed and throbbed, of the way he gasped, of the smell of lust that flooded my senses and I felt like I was missing something as he pulled shakily away.
“Untie me?” His dark gaze locked with mine and he swallowed hard, gave the most lopsided grin I’ve ever seen from him and ran his hand through his hair shakily. Then he shook his head. Swallowed again.
“Not yet.” His voice was edgy and hoarse even with all the swallowing and I ran my tongue over my lips, still tasting his salty sweetness.
“Dane!”
He laughed. “I’m going to fuck you, Holly, like you’ve never been fucked before, and when you’re trembling and begging for me to stop I’ll untie you.”
“That’s some promise to live up to.” But my voice was as shaky with anticipation as the rest of me.
“Don’t go away.” He winked and stepped back and then seconds later I heard him go downstairs, banging of cupboard doors and then the unmistakable sound of him heading back up the stairs.
Now I like chocolate, I like chocolate a lot, but I never buy chocolate spread. But Dane, it appeared did. He undid the lid of the jar with steady deliberation, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. He dipped one finger in and offered it to me so I did what any self respecting girl would do and slowly licked his finger clean, then sucked it just to make sure. His cock started to stiffen in appreciation and I suddenly didn’t doubt his promise one little bit.
Good Enough to Share (Good Enough, Book 1 - Christmas) Page 7
