by Jess Dee
She snagged a bag from near the front door and flicked on a lamp in the lounge.
Light flooded the room. “I like to see what I’m eating,” she told him.
“I like to watch you eat,” he said and sat. He was barely aware of the pillowed seat beneath his ass—such was his anticipation. He’d watch her as she ate up every inch of his dick. If watching her eat dessert in the restaurant was any indication, watching her blow him would be staggering.
She pulled a small plastic tub from the bag and showed him. “Dessert,” she said and opened it, dipping her finger inside.
When she lifted it up again, it was covered in the creamy custard. He watched as she proceeded to treat her finger to exactly the same indulgence he’d fantasized about. She wrapped her lips around it and sucked it dry. His breathing shallowed as he struggled to stay seated. The need to haul her closer and push her head down into his lap was overpowering.
She dipped back into the tub, and then traced his mouth. Instinctively, he licked his lips, tasting the rich, sticky substance she’d left behind.
“Uh uh,” she warned. “No sharing.” She straddled him so her groin rubbed enticingly on his upper thighs. “I have to make this little tub last a long time.”
She lowered her head to his and starting with his upper lip, systematically licked off every drop of custard. Then she moved onto his lower lip to do the same, pausing to nibble here and suck there. When the outside of his mouth was clean, she dipped her tongue between his lips and kissed him, sharing her mouth, allowing him the tiniest sample of dessert. It was not the crème brûlée that had him desperate to taste more, but the salacious heat of her mouth.
His nipple tightened reflexively as something cold touched it. Lexi massaged it with her hand, rubbing custard into his skin. She released his mouth and lowered her head to taste the rigid nub. The gentle scrape of her teeth against the sensitive flesh, the hot licks of her tongue, were almost too much, the pleasure almost painful.
“Dessert taste any better?” he asked, struggling to form the words. His hands tangled in her hair, tugging on the silky strands as she worked her magic.
“A little,” she conceded before subjecting his other nipple to the same treatment.
If it weren’t for the promise of her mouth on his cock, he’d lift her up and slide her back down until he was sheathed in her body. But Adam was too selfish to hurry this exercise along. He intended to enjoy every second of it. Besides, if she sat on his dick now it would be game over.
She drew gooey lines down his stomach and climbed off him to kneel between his legs. The muscles in his gut clenched and unclenched in time with her tongue as she lapped up the sticky mess.
“It tastes better,” she said as she dabbed at the last drop of cream on his belly. “But there’s still something missing.” She dipped into the dessert again. “Something hard.”
With her free hand, she cupped his balls and he nearly hit the roof as she stroked them.
“And salty.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “Something a lot more satisfying than dessert.” She slathered the crème over his cock, making good and sure to cover every visible spot of skin.
The contrast of the chilled cream under her warm skin had him squirming in his seat.
How would he feel in the hot, wet cavern of her mouth?
Electrifying.
Her greedy mouth was everywhere, voraciously lapping up the dessert, licking him clean, sucking at the more difficult spots. Supper had clearly not satisfied her appetite; she devoured him with a fierce hunger.
He forced oxygen into his air-depleted lungs. Good God, where had she learned to do that? Her carnal tongue wrenched a groan from deep in his gut. The pressure built. His balls tightened.
She massaged them lightly, erotically, as her mouth consumed him.
“Lexi. Christ, sweetheart…stop!”
She sucked a little harder, took him in a little deeper.
“Lexi, Jesus…” It was too much. He couldn’t stop. Not now. He exploded, pumping semen into her mouth.
She stilled as he came, waiting until he’d spent every last drop. When he finished, she looked him dead in the eye, and with her mouth still wrapped around him, swallowed the whole damn lot.
He collapsed against the back of his chair, winded.
What the hell? He should be soft, should be utterly spent. He wasn’t. Not by a long shot. Lexi ran her tongue up the length of his cock and he shuddered, oversensitized to every miniscule touch. She grazed her teeth over his tip.
“Lexi,” he groaned, dazed by her renewed assault. Adrenalin coursed through him.
His cock, semi-erect after he came, roared back to life. A strangled groan escaped him and he stilled her head with his hands. “I can’t,” he growled.
“Oh, believe me,” she said as she rose. “You can and you will.”
He was putty in her hands. She was right. He could and he would. Especially after watching her remove her panties. He caught a glimpse of her naked hips, saw her glisten with a cream more scrumptious than any dessert.
He was falling for her. It was the only explanation. He couldn’t be this aroused, this soon, if it was just sex.
She leaned forward, kissed him again. Her mouth was sticky—with custard and come, a mixture of sugar and salt, and he groaned as he tasted her. He reached out, stroked her moist folds, touched the cream that coated them, drank in the soft moan that she emitted.
It had never been just sex with Lexi. Even their first time had been too intense, too amazing to be just sex. It was more. Way, way more.
His fingers were wet when he withdrew them and he pulled his lips away from hers, breaking the kiss. He traced her mouth and when he kissed her again, the taste of her desire combined with his own and with the dessert left him rock hard and rearing to go.
“You see,” Lexi said as she straddled him again. “You can.” This time when she settled down, she impaled herself on him.
Adam swore out loud as her hot core enveloped him.
He wasn’t falling for her. He’d already fallen. Hard.
Her hair was wild, the curls tousled in every direction, and her eyes were glazed. He surged upwards, thrusting into her, and watched in satisfaction as she arched her spine and dropped her neck backward.
She wound her arms around his neck and clenched her inner muscles around him, gyrating her hips, taking him deeper, then releasing him and easing up slightly.
Christ. She was heaven wrapped around him. She rocked above him and he lost himself to her rhythm. Nothing could feel better than this, nothing could feel sweeter.
This was the wonder of making love.
Even the bad stuff didn’t seem so bad when Lexi kissed him.
Her back arched, her breasts jutted out and he dipped his head and kissed them. He laved her nipples, licking and sucking on them until she moaned mindlessly in his lap.
Her movements became frenzied, less controlled, her inner muscles pulled at him and she began to tremble.
The quivering reverberated all the way through to his bones. It was the shiver of a needy woman, a woman who’d clamped down on her own pleasure too long and now demanded release.
He’d give it to her. He’d give her anything. Everything.
She twisted slightly and leaned forward, changing the angle of penetration. Adam nearly lost it. He grabbed her hips and held her still. Too late—the process had begun.
Powerless to stop, he surged upward and she moaned his name as he drove deeper into her.
This was not just sex.
Her lips mashed against his balls, enhancing the sensation tenfold. Again and again, he thrust, again and again, she moaned, until her trembling turned to violent shaking and her muscles clamped down around him and she came.
Not ten minutes before, he’d exploded in her mouth. Now, still not quite believing himself capable, he exploded again. Stream after stream of come pulsed into her as torrents of pleasure and emotion assailed him.
This was
what making love was all about.
Chapter Fourteen
The hot water ran over her shoulders, washing away the soapy residue. Behind her, Adam’s hands worked their magic as he lathered more soap onto her back, massaging her pleasantly stiff muscles.
“Mmm. That’s good,” she purred, keeping her eyes closed.
“Very good,” he agreed as he slid his slippery hands around her ribs and cupped her breasts.
She leaned back into him and he nuzzled her cheek. “Did you enjoy tonight?” she asked.
He chuckled in her ear. “As if you even need to ask.”
Lexi smiled the smile of a well-satisfied woman. “I meant this evening. The dinner.
Did you have a good time?”
He ran his hands hypnotically over her stomach. “It was nice. They’re a good crowd.”
“They liked you too,” she said.
“They did?” he asked, sounding surprised.
“Yep. Told me so when you went to the bathroom. They managed to squeeze it in between the four million questions about you and me.”
His hands stilled. “What did you tell them?”
“Not much,” she answered. “I just said you were a nice guy and the only man who’d ever given me nine orgasms in one night.”
He snorted in her ear. “You didn’t.”
“Course I didn’t. Even though you are the only man who’s ever given me nine orgasms in one night.” She turned in his arms and they shared a long, wet kiss, drawing apart only when the water pulsating over them ran tepid.
Adam switched off the taps and climbed out of the shower. He held a towel open for her, wrapped her in it and then proceeded to dry himself. Lexi watched the muscles in his arms and shoulders ripple dramatically as he rubbed his towel over his hair in quick, hard strokes. A shaft of desire stabbed through her. They’d made love not thirty minutes ago and still she wanted him.
“I know the evening couldn’t have been easy for you,” she said carefully. “All that talk about babies. Jesus, even I thought about Timmy. I can only imagine what went on in your head.”
He dried a little faster. “It’s not my favorite topic of conversation.”
“That’s why you were so quiet,” Lexi said.
He nodded. “That and the fact that it was a special time for Leona and Annie. They didn’t need my two cents’ worth. They’re happy. It wasn’t my place to cast a shadow over their telling.” He wrapped his towel around his waist and turned around.
Their eyes met in the mirror and her heart began to pound. God, she loved him.
Goddamn it, she wished he could love her back. She knew that until he resolved his issues about his son, he’d never allow himself that luxury. He simply did not have the capacity to give himself a little happiness, not while he still grieved for Timmy. “Do you think the pain will ever ease up?”
He shrugged. “I’d like to be able to reach a point when I can think about Timmy and smile. Remember all the good times. I just haven’t reached it yet.”
“Adam.” She bit her lip, thinking how to word her question. “Have you…did you ever mourn Timmy after he died?”
His eyes turned hard. “I mourn him every day of my life.”
“I know you do. I can see it. Your wounds are still raw ten years later.” No wonder he’d appeared so cold the first time he’d met her. He used distance as a means of covering up his trauma. If no one could get close, no one could see his terrible injuries.
“You never allowed yourself a chance to heal, did you?”
“Heal. You expect me to heal after what happened?” His tone was harsh.
“I don’t expect anything. I…” Shit, she had to tread carefully here. “I just wish you were free of your guilt of living.”
“So what are you saying?” His eyes grew cold. “That I should be glad that I lived and Timmy died?”
“Adam,” she gasped. “You know I’m not saying that.”
For a moment, he dropped his defenses and his shoulders sagged. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wished our roles had been reversed? How many times I wished I were the one who’d been sick, who’d died, and not Timmy? Do you have even the slightest idea?”
He straightened his shoulders, stood a little taller, and his voice picked up volume.
“Do you know what it’s like to watch your child die? To live through your child’s death?
Do you?” He turned around, grabbed her shoulders. “Do you know how hard it is not to mourn, not to spend every minute of your life reliving the last minutes of your son’s? I don’t think you do. I don’t think you have a fucking clue.”
His anger was so intense it was almost tangible. How much of it had he kept buried inside all this time, festering?
“I don’t think anyone has a fucking clue. You want me to live guilt free? Yeah? Well how fucking easy do you think that is? Should I just pretend it never happened? Just move on and get another life, have another kid? Is that what you want from me?”
She understood his rage—she dealt with it every day at work, with patients who’d lost children to cancer. Only Adam wasn’t work, he was personal. His anger affected her.
With clients, she kept her distance and her objectivity. With Adam, she couldn’t. His pain was too real to her. She wanted to share it with him, wanted to identify with his emotions.
“I want you to be happy again, Adam. The only way you can do that is by mourning your son. You have to feel the pain to get through it. Allow the hurt in, deal with it, accept it. Maybe then you’ll be able to find a place for happiness too.”
“You think I don’t let the pain in?”
“I think you do. All the time. You just don’t express it. You keep it bottled up so tight that the only time it comes out is when you’re asleep and you have no control over it.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, and his mouth clenched shut.
She tucked her towel around her breasts and stepped forward. “Let go, Adam. Let your emotions out. You want to feel again, you said so in the mountains.”
“Oh, it’s that simple, is it?” he asked savagely. “I should just let myself cry for a few days, and then I’ll be fine. I’ll be the old Adam all over again. Not a worry in the world.”
“No.” Lexi shook her head. “I don’t think you could ever be the old Adam again.
You’ve been through too much, experienced too much to ever be the same. Timmy’s illness changed you. To expect yourself to go back to what you were before is naïve and unrealistic. To expect to experience joy again is not. It will just be different, because you’re different.” She touched his arm. “Let go of Timmy. Let yourself mourn him properly so you can say goodbye. So you can start to live again.”
“What if I don’t want to live, not without him?”
“I think you do.” She took a deep breath. “I think you do because you’re with me now. Something is telling you it’s time to try again. To give life another shot.”
“Fuck that, I don’t deserve another shot.”
“What? You think you don’t deserve to be happy?”
“No. I think I don’t deserve to be with you.” His voice lost its life. “I tried to be with a woman once. I failed. Miserably. Our son died.”
“Your son didn’t die because of you.”
“I couldn’t help him.”
“No one could. It doesn’t mean it was your fault.”
“I was his father.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t God. What happened to Timmy was out of your hands. That doesn’t mean you have to punish yourself. Tracey was his mother and she couldn’t help him either. She understood that.”
Adam nodded. “She’s happy again.”
“You can be too.”
“I want to be.” He dropped his head. “I want to be happy again, it’s just that the thought of moving on, it’s too—” He stopped mid-sentence and the color drained from his face.
“Adam, what’s wrong?”
He smacked his forehead.
“For fuck sake. How could I have been so stupid?”
“I…I don’t understand.” His face was white and his eyes had turned to ice crystals.
Naked fury danced in their depth.
“Us. You and me. Careless, negligent, stupid.” He swore again.
“What are you talking about?” Lexi grabbed his arm and shook it. The sudden change in his demeanor scared her.
He took a snarling breath and hissed out, “Protection. We didn’t use any fucking protection tonight.” He hit the basin with a curled-up fist. “The condoms are still in my wallet.”
Horror washed through her. They’d made love and neither of them had given a second thought to condoms. She gaped at him, speechless.
“You know my position on children. Damn it, an unwanted pregnancy’s the last thing I need now.”
It wasn’t exactly on top of her list of priorities either. One day, yes—but not now.
“Adam—”
“This is a fucking catastrophe. I’m a damn fool. Shit, I was so horny tonight, so turned on, I completely forgot.” He swiped a hand through his damp hair. “This is a problem, Lexi, this is a very big problem.”
Who was he kidding? His little swimmers could be hastily making their way to her fertile ovaries right this minute. Who the hell knew? One of them might have struck it lucky already.
She blanched at the thought.
Adam stalked out of the bathroom and into the living room. She darted after him. He snatched his clothes up from the floor, shoved his legs into his pants and pulled them up.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” He shot her a scathing look. “I have to go.”
“You’re leaving?” she squeaked. “Now?” In the middle of everything? Okay, he was angry, but they needed to discuss this. Leaving wouldn’t resolve anything.
“Another thing you forgot?” he asked acidly. “I’m going overseas tomorrow.”
Forgot? Hardly. She dreaded tomorrow, dreaded the thought of two weeks without him. “Adam, you can’t go yet.” Panic clawed at her chest. “We should talk, work this out before you leave.”
“Talk?” he roared. “You think talking will stop you falling pregnant?” He did up his belt. “I have to pack.”
