The Sex Solution

by Kimberly Raye

  “Are you eating, too?”

  “Who?” A gulp punctuated the question. “Of course not.”

  “Put up the peanuts.”

  “Peanuts don’t go with champagne. They’re corn chips.”

  “I’m not hearing this.”

  “You know, instead of angsting over my diet, you should go out and find your own bottle of champagne, your own corn chips and a really hot man and do a little celebrating of your own.”

  If only.

  But the last thing she felt like doing was celebrating. Besides the only really hot man within a five-mile radius wasn’t really hot. Not for her, that is. He just thought he was, courtesy of her new product, which she’d dubbed The Sex Solution.

  She barely ignored the urge to toss the remaining lotion into a nearby trashcan. Instead she squirted a little into her hands and closed her eyes. The lotion tingled, warming as she rubbed it into her skin, the scent filling her nostrils, and a gasp escaped her lips…

  Ugh. She opened her eyes to the empty kitchen. Life truly did suck. She’d come so far since leaving Cadillac in the first place, yet here she was back home again, alone on a Friday night with nothing but a refrigerator to satisfy her cravings.

  An empty refrigerator, except for the various ingredients for her lotion. She stared at a dish of pumpkin-flavored gel and thought of Uncle Spur. Nah. She wasn’t that desperate. Yet.

  Fifteen minutes later, she pulled a batch of instant biscuits out of the oven, grabbed a bottle of honey and headed for the sofa. It wasn’t an Oreo, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and the Piggly Wiggly closed its doors at six o’clock.

  Her gaze shifted to the clock that read a half hour until seven. We’ll finish this later tonight. I’ll see you at seven. A thrill of anticipation rippled through her and she had the sudden urge to rush upstairs and wiggle into her man-killer dress.

  “You’re hopeless,” she told herself. “He’s not coming.”

  Once out of range of Madeline and her lotion, his senses had undoubtedly calmed. He’d probably spent the afternoon wondering what had come over him and vowing never, ever to let it happen again.

  She grabbed the bottle of honey and squirted a dollop of golden liquid on top of one warm biscuit. Austin Jericho was not going to come begging for another kiss, or anything more.

  Twinkles, on the other hand, was a different story altogether. The dog sat next to her, a hopeful look on his face. She pinched off a piece and tossed it to him. He caught it, swallowing in one gulp before licking his chops. He eased closer, nuzzling her as he whined, but she shook her head.

  “Sorry, boy. I need this a lot more than you do.” She popped a bite into her mouth, the honey oozing over her fingers. Sliding a fingertip into her mouth, she licked the honey and went for another bite. Twinkles kept whining and she ended up sharing her biscuit with him. He was a pain, but she had a soft spot for him.

  She’d tossed him the very last piece and had just gotten up to go and fetch another when she heard the screen door squeak. She waited for Uncle Spur to push the door open, but instead the doorbell sounded. She opened the door to find Austin Jericho standing on her doorstep a full fifteen minutes before seven.

  She could tell that he’d just showered. He wore a white T-shirt that outlined his broad chest and clung to his muscular biceps. Faded jeans cupped his crotch and molded to his thighs. His dark hair was damp, curling around his neck. His five-o’clock shadow was gone, his jaw fresh and clean shaven.

  While she’d loved the feel of his stubble rasping against her cheek, she found herself suddenly desperate to feel the masculine smoothness rubbing not only her cheek, but lower, down the slope of her neck, the rise of her breasts, her nipples, the tender insides of her thighs…

  She drew a deep breath and tried for a calm tone. “You’re early.”

  “Actually—” he stepped forward, backing her into the small hallway before kicking the door shut with the heel of his boot “—I’m running pretty damned late. This has been a long time coming.”

  His words sent a thrill of anticipation through her before she reminded herself about his sudden change of heart and the reason behind it. “I agree with you, but it’s all wrong.”

  “It feels pretty damned right.”

  “I know it does, but that’s just because you’re not thinking clearly right now.”

  “Thinking is not at the top of my list right now, sugar. It’s all about feeling.”

  She wanted to dispute his words, but when he looked at her with his hungry gaze, it was as if she’d stepped into her wildest fantasy and the only thing she could manage to do was drag some much-needed air into her lungs.

  He glanced past her. “Where’s Spur?”

  She licked her lips and fought for her voice. “Drowning today’s sorrow in a double-dipped cone down at the Dairy Freeze.”

  “And then?”

  He’s coming home. That’s all she had to say to kill the excitement in his eyes and shatter the fantasy.

  “Then he’s going to bingo,” she murmured. She’d dreamed of this moment, fantasized about it for so long that she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth. No man had ever looked at her quite this way, with this intensity, with this blatant need and it made her feel like…a woman. A real, bona fide, not-too-big-in-the-hips woman. Attractive. Sexy. Wanted. “It’s triple-play night and he says that he’s due for some good luck after today.”

  “Good.” He flipped the dead bolt on the front door and turned on her, backing her up the few steps to the wall.

  “What are you doing?” she asked when he reached for the hem of her T-shirt.

  “Undressing you.”

  “But—wait,” she said as he pulled the material up a few dangerous inches, his fingertips brushing her bare skin. Reality zapped her and she realized that this was far from any fantasy and as much as she wanted him, she wanted him to want her. Her. “There’s something I have to tell you first.”

  He pulled the shirt up over her head and tossed it to the hardwood floor. His fingers went to the clasp of her bra and her breasts spilled free.

  “About this afternoon—”

  “You have the most incredible nipples I’ve ever seen.”

  “It really wasn’t—I do?” She stared up into his dark, heated eyes and saw the admiration. The appreciation. The want.

  And suddenly the only thing Madeline Hale could think of was how it would feel to have Austin’s mouth on her, regardless of the reason why.

  12

  “I WANTED TO TOUCH THEM so bad last night, and I wanted to taste them. I really wanted to taste them.”

  Before she could drag in a breath, he dipped his head and drew one sensitive peak into his mouth.

  He sucked her so hard and so thoroughly and it was all she could do to keep from sagging against him. Wetness flooded the sensitive flesh between her legs and drenched her panties. He drew on her harder, his jaw creating a powerful tugging that she felt clear to her womb. An echoing throb started in her belly, more intense with every rasp of his tongue, every nibble of his teeth, every pull of his sinful lips.

  Heat flowered through her, pulsing along her nerve endings, heating her body until she felt as if she would explode.

  He didn’t touch her with his hands, just his mouth working at her until she moaned long and low and deep in her throat. Her nipple was red and swollen and throbbing when he finally released her to lick a path to the other breast. The tip of his tongue rasped her ultrasensitive flesh, sending goose bumps up and down her arms and making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

  “Please,” she murmured, and he gladly obliged, seizing the other nipple and delivering the same delicious torture. Pull and nibble and pull and nibble and…

  Ahh…

  She grew wetter and hotter, her body throbbing with each movement of his mouth as he worked her, pushing her closer to the edge, to a mind-blowing orgasm.

  And at nothing more than having her nipple suckled.


  It didn’t make any sense, yet at the same time, it made perfect sense because this wasn’t just any man. This was the man.

  The thought sent a burst of panic through her and she opened her mouth to protest. But then his mouth was on hers, swallowing her words, his hot fingers rolling and plucking her damp nipple, and all thought flew south to the wet heat saturating her panties and the steady, frenzied throbbing between her legs.

  He pulled her flush against him, his hands trailing down her bare back, stirring every nerve ending along the way. Fingers played at her waistband before slipping lower, his palms cupping her buttocks through the material. He urged her up on her tiptoes until her pelvis cradled the massive erection straining beneath his zipper.

  The feel of him sent a burst of longing through her and suddenly she couldn’t get close enough. She grasped his shoulders, clutching at his T-shirt as she wrapped one leg around his thigh to fit more snugly against him. She couldn’t get enough of him as she kissed him with all of the passion that had built over the past sleepless nights.

  Her tongue danced with his and she sucked, drawing him deeper, wanting more yet not getting enough.

  When he tore his lips from hers, a whimper slipped past her swollen lips.

  “Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please, I don’t know what I’ll do if you stop.” She was pathetic, she knew. Begging a man when she should have been telling him the truth.

  Then again, she was telling him the God’s honest—she needed him more than she needed her next breath.

  “I’m not going to stop.” His fingers went to the snap on her shorts. The waistband eased and her zipper hissed, and the denim sagged on her hips. Large, eager hands pushed the material down, his fingers snagging the straps of her panties and urging them down, as well. Until she was completely naked. “In fact,” he went on, “if I don’t get inside of you right now, I’m going to burst.”

  Satisfaction rushed through her and she smiled.

  He caught the expression with his mouth, urging her lips apart in another deep, mind-blowing kiss as he lifted her. He wrapped her legs around his waist, his denim-covered erection flush against the sensitive folds between her legs.

  The sudden contact drew a gasp from her lips. She grasped his shoulders and shimmied against him. The friction of the rough material against her clitoris worked her into a frenzy, until she couldn’t take any more. She threw her head back as a deep, pleasure-filled moan vibrated up her throat. Delicious tremors racked her body.

  “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

  She heard his deep, raw voice through the thunder of her own heart and his words sent a rush of joy through her. She didn’t stop to analyze why. Instead, she concentrated on the sincerity in his voice and let it feed the satisfaction gripping her body.

  So lost in the throes of her orgasm, she didn’t even notice that he’d carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom until she felt the soft mattress at her back.

  She glanced up in time to see him peel off his shirt and unfasten his jeans. He shoved the denim and his white briefs down in one smooth motion, his erection springing forward, huge and greedy. A white drop of pearly liquid beaded on the tip and she couldn’t help herself, she reached out and touched the moisture, bringing it to her lips to taste the salty sweetness the way she’d tasted it four nights ago.

  He groaned at the sight of her before leaning over to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a condom and smoothed it over his throbbing length in one deft motion, and then he was leaning over her, pushing her into the mattress as he urged her legs apart and settled himself between her trembling thighs.

  He kissed her then, licking her lips and sucking at her tongue, as if he couldn’t get enough of her mouth flavored with his essence.

  Her insides were still quivering when he drove into her, burying himself to the hilt with one powerful thrust. She was tight, grasping the full length of him with enough force to make him groan. He lay still for a moment.

  “You feel even better than I remember. So tight and wet.”

  “You feel better, too. Bigger. Hot. Hard.” She couldn’t believe she’d said the words, but she couldn’t help herself. With his voice so deep and stirring in her ears, she found herself eager to give him the same pleasure that he gave her when he said such things.

  Pleasure. That’s what she felt, from her toes clear to the very end of each and every hair on her head. The sensation swamped her, making her feel hot and needy and alive. She closed her eyes, determined to savor every moment. The weight of his body between her legs, the tickle of his hair against her most sensitive spot, the weight of his testicles resting between her thighs.

  “Look at me, Maddie.” His deep, raw voice drew her eyes open and she stared up.

  Hunger blazed hot and intense in his gaze, but there was something else, as well. A possessive light that sent a tremor of warmth through her, as if she were the only woman he’d ever been with. The only woman he’d ever wanted to be with. The first and the last…

  “It’s Madeline,” she murmured in a rush of panic. “Not Maddie. Madeline.”

  He didn’t reply, he simply smiled and started to withdraw. The movement was slow and tantalizing, and her thoughts faded in a wave of pleasure. He stopped just shy of completely pulling out, the head of his penis still nestled just inside.

  He pulsed with the force of his desire and she felt him thick at her opening. Before she could draw her next breath, he thrust deep again, sending a burst of heat through her and making her own body throb in response.

  He pumped faster with each thrust, driving her toward another orgasm while he worked toward his own. She clutched at him, raking her nails down the length of his back, grasping his buttocks, pulling him deeper as she lifted her pelvis to meet each of his movements. She couldn’t feel him deep enough or hard enough or fast enough…

  Yet her climax built, lifting her up and jerking her down like a wild roller-coaster ride. Up and down, higher and higher, faster and faster until she finally reached the last peak and raced over the edge, her heart pounding, her blood rushing, her body singing with exhilaration.

  She cried out and felt him stiffen. She opened her eyes just in time to see him poised above her. His entire body tensed as he threw his head back, his teeth clenched. Every muscle in his body tightened and bulged as he followed her over that last and final peak.

  He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him without breaking their contact. His heart pounded against her own and his breaths came sharp and ragged.

  Maddie rested her cheek in the curve of his neck and fought for a calming breath. She needed to gather her wits, to think.

  Impossible with him so close.

  She could only feel. The tickle of his hair against her chafed nipples, the hot slickness of his thigh on the inside of her own, the length of his penis nestled in her slick folds. He was still semihard, the large, smooth head twitching and pulsing against her most sensitive spots with each of his deep, shuddering breaths.

  Gathering her courage, she climbed from atop him. He caught her wrist with one large hand, his fingers burning into her as she tried to scramble from the bed.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I—I need a drink of water.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, his dark eyes piercing her, looking straight through her and seeing everything she fought so hard to hide. She didn’t think he would let her go, but then he released her and she scrambled from the bed.

  A few minutes later, she reached the dark safety of the kitchen. She paused, her palms flat against the cool tile as she drew in some much-needed air.

  The reality of what had just happened hit her and filled her with a mixture of emotions. Everything from elation to dread. While she’d dreamed of this, she hadn’t dreamed of this. The pounding of her heart, the buzzing of her nerves, the rush of adrenaline. She felt too alive, more so than when he’d touched her that first night, or the next. Tonight had been different. More intense. Powerf
ul.

  Thanks to The Sex Solution.

  “That went way too fast,” he said from behind her.

  “I know what you mean.”

  “We should have slowed down a little.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “We skipped too much. I was just so turned-on that I couldn’t help myself.”

  “It was the lotion—” she began, but he cut her off with a press of his fingertips to her lips.

  “But that won’t happen again because I’ll hold on next time. I promise.”

  “I put the final ingredients together and perfected the product. That’s why you were so turned-on tonight. It wasn’t really me—next time?”

  “This time.” He lifted her onto the table and reached for the bottle of honey that she’d left out.

  She was about to repeat what she’d just said when she felt the cold thickness of the honey trickle down the slope of her breast. She half turned to see his hand poised over her shoulder, the bottle of honey in his hands as he squeezed.

  She closed her eyes, savoring the erotic feel of the syrupy liquid sliding, tantalizing her bare skin. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip and her nipples sprang hard and greedy to life. Not fifteen minutes ago, they’d been going after it and here she was up for more action.

  And so was he. She could feel his erection pressing into her buttocks. He wanted her again, as much as she wanted him. Maybe more.

  Guilt rushed through her. Then again, she’d told him the truth. It wasn’t really her fault if he’d decided not to listen. She’d tried.

  She would try again, but not right now. She couldn’t find her voice, particularly when his arms came around her to catch a drop of honey and smooth it over her nipple.

  Later. Tomorrow. Monday at the latest.

  But she would bring up the subject again and make sure that he understood. He would call it quits then, she had no doubt, but until then…

  She intended to enjoy every sweet, stirring moment of their time together.