Riding Home

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He gave more, of course. He was only giving as good as he’d gotten, gently torturing her as she’d tortured him. But in the end, he finished what he’d started and she came in a glorious cascade of pleasure. So good. So very good.

  He guided her trembling body down to the thick carpet. Dazed by the force of her climax, sounds traveled to her as if she were underwater. She vaguely registered the clink of his belt buckle, the rasp of his zipper and the crinkle of foil.

  His mouth found hers, and he tasted of sex. He kissed her for a long time before raising his head. “You don’t have to do anything,” he murmured. “Just lie there. But I need...” He eased between her thighs and the blunt tip of his cock sought the hot, quivering spot he’d loved so thoroughly with his mouth. “This.” He slid deep with a heartfelt sigh. “Oh, yeah. This.”

  Little shock waves of delight zinged through her as he locked himself in tight. Then he began to stroke in and out and she didn’t even have to think about it. She wrapped her arms around him and lifted to meet each thrust.

  “Ah, Jeannette,” he murmured in her ear as he increased his speed, “you’re with me.”

  “Yes.” She matched his pace and felt another orgasm building.

  “I can’t... I don’t think I can wait.”

  “Don’t wait.” Sliding her hands down, she gripped his firm buns, pressing her fingertips into his solid muscles as he pumped steadily. His rhythmic movements excited her even more. “I’m right behind you.”

  He began to pant. “Damn, you feel incredible. If you didn’t feel so great I could hold off, but I...I can’t... I have to... I’m...” With a soft curse, he moved faster yet.

  His excitement fueled hers. She kept up with him as he pounded into her, and when at last he cried out and drove home, she erupted at the moment his spasms hit. She held on tight as his body shook in time with hers. His groan of satisfaction brought her overwhelming joy, the kind of incandescent happiness that made her toes curl.

  She had no idea how long they lay on the floor, but she had no inclination to move. She’d slept on beds that weren’t as cushioned as this carpet.

  Eventually Zach propped himself on his forearms and gazed down at her with a smile. “You know, this is funny.”

  She reached up and traced that smile with her fingertip. “Why?”

  “I booked this room so our first time together could be on a high-end mattress on a king-size bed. And look at where we are.”

  “Are you complaining?”

  “Never.” He leaned down and kissed her on the nose. “But since we’ve had the floor experience, I vote we conduct the next round in bed.”

  “And when do you anticipate the next round will start?”

  Levering himself higher, he swept a glance down her naked body. He rested on one arm and cupped her breast. Her nipple responded to the lazy brush of his thumb. “Might not be long.”

  Deep within her body, she felt the twitch of his cock.

  He continued to play with her breasts, and the twitch came again. “Might not be long at all.” He looked into her eyes. “If we don’t have much time together, I don’t want to waste any of it.”

  “I don’t, either.” But now she saw the fatal flaw in his otherwise excellent plan. They’d created a ticking clock, not unlike lovers had in wartime, where every moment could be their last. That might make this time with Zach seem more significant than it was. She’d have to guard against that kind of delusional thinking.

  5

  ZACH TALKED JEANNETTE into staying put while he disposed of the condom in the half bath off the living room. He buttoned and zipped his jeans but decided to take off his belt and his boots. They would only be in the way for his next maneuver. Glancing around, he located the bedroom door.

  After his somewhat ungentlemanly behavior, taking her on the living room floor, he hoped to redeem himself by masterfully carrying her into the bedroom. He was pretty sure he could manage it. He’d always kept in shape, and he’d just spent a month doing manual labor. But when he crouched down and started to scoop her up, she protested.

  “Never mind. I can walk.”

  “But then I don’t get to show off my cowboy muscles. After shoveling out stalls for a month, I’m practically Mr. Universe. Come on. I’ve always wanted to try it. Humor me.”

  She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Okay, if it’ll make you happy.”

  “It will. I might even beat my chest afterward.”

  “Oh, good. That would be fun to watch. I’d think it would hurt, though.”

  “Don’t know. Never tried it. I’m new at this he-man stuff.” From gym workouts and slinging hay bales, he’d learned to lift with his legs. He stood without too much wobbling, and there he was, holding a naked Jeannette in his arms. What a great feeling. “I like this.”

  She nestled close and gazed up at him. “There’s a certain Tarzan-and-Jane quality to it.”

  “Yeah.” When he’d made his living with his brain, he’d kept his gym membership so his suits fit better. But he liked having the strength to pick up his lady love and carry her off like a conquering hero. Very retro and not particularly enlightened, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction of being able to do it.

  “Are you takin’ me somewhere? Or did you just want to stand here a while?”

  “Oh, I’m definitely taking you somewhere.” He headed for it with what he considered a purposeful stride.

  He laid Jeannette on the chocolate-brown comforter and stood back to admire the view.

  “Isn’t this the part where you beat your chest?”

  “I’m over the Tarzan thing. Now I feel like Rhett Butler carrying Scarlett up the staircase.”

  “Just so you don’t expect me to make a dress out of the curtains. I can’t sew. In fact, I’m a washout at domestic chores. Cooking, cleaning, sewing—I’m clueless.”

  “I don’t expect you to make a dress out of the curtains. In fact, that would probably get us permanently banned from this hotel chain.” He sat on the edge of the bed and allowed his gaze to travel deliberately over her creamy skin. Under his scrutiny, she flushed a tempting pink. He loved that he could make that happen.

  “What do you expect?” She asked the question with a twinkle in her eye.

  “I have no expectations.” He flattened his palms on either side of her head as he leaned closer. “Only give what you feel like giving.”

  She cupped the back of his head. “I feel like givin’ you a big ol’ kiss. How’s that?”

  “I’d like that.”

  She guided him down, and he delved into the richness of her mouth. In seconds his cock was hard. And he’d left the box of condoms in the other room. He hadn’t planned that very well.

  He lifted his mouth with great reluctance. “I want you again, but I left the—”

  “Never mind.”

  “But—”

  “You promised I could return the favor.” And she reached down and unfastened the metal button of his jeans.

  A man would be a fool to argue with a proposition like that, and he was no fool.

  She pushed gently at his chest. “Just lie back and let me make you feel real good.”

  The words were seductive enough, but when delivered with a Southern accent...he was a stick of dynamite ready to explode and she’d barely touched him. Stretching out on the comforter, he prayed that he wouldn’t embarrass himself by coming right away.

  He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as she fumbled with his zipper and his briefs, but he understood the problem. It was generally better to take the clothes off before expansion began.
Now that he was fully erect, dealing with the zipper was tricky.

  But she finally accomplished her mission. And oh, dear God, the sensation when she wrapped her warm fingers around his shaft made his eyes roll back in his head. He groaned and tightened his jaw against a climax that was perilously close.

  “You’re gorgeous, you know.” She squeezed his cock gently with one hand and reached to cup his aching balls with the other.

  “Mmm.” It was the best response he could make under the circumstances. Not that he was complaining about the circumstances. These were most excellent circumstances.

  He was just worried that... Sweet Jesus, she was using her mouth. She knew how to do that, too. She understood the male anatomy very well, apparently. He clutched two handfuls of the comforter and gasped for breath.

  “Good?”

  “Yeah.” He dragged in more air, but it wasn’t enough to carry him through the next deep groan as she took him all the way to the back of her throat. When she flattened her tongue against the ridge on the underside of his cock and began to bob her head in a steady rhythm, he knew the end was near.

  Sure enough, she increased the pressure. More, a little more...ahhhh. He surrendered. Loudly. His moans grew even louder as she continued to suck on his pulsing cock. He’d never come so hard or so long, and she’d swallowed every drop.

  As he lay there panting, she carefully tucked his family jewels back in his briefs before buttoning and zipping his jeans. Then she crawled up to place a flavorful kiss on his mouth before drawing back again.

  He opened his eyes to find her chin propped on her fist as she watched him. He searched for what to say, but nothing in his vocabulary was good enough. “I’m speechless,” he murmured. “That was...” He shook his head. “I can’t think of a word.”

  “Super?”

  “Better.”

  “Super-duper?”

  “Better.”

  She smiled. “There’s nothing better than super-duper. That’s the highest level of excellence there is. Everybody knows that.”

  He tucked his hand behind his head so he could see her better. “Then let’s say super-duper to the millionth power.”

  “Now you’re just being silly.”

  “Hell, no. There was nothing silly about what you just did. My heart’s still going a mile a minute.”

  “That’s what I wanted. To give you a joyride.”

  “Oh, you did. But I wonder if I’ll ever move again.”

  “You’re just low on energy because we haven’t eaten.”

  “That’s true.” His conscience pricked him. “Are you hungry now?”

  She nodded.

  “I gave away our Italian meal.”

  “I wondered where it was.”

  “I couldn’t see hauling cold pasta up to the penthouse. There’s a cheese tray sitting on the wet bar, but I think we need more than that. Let’s order room service.”

  “I’ll go find the menu. You stay here and recover from your super-duper blow job.” She started to move away.

  He caught her wrist and tugged her back. “No, I’ll go.”

  “Why should you? I’m perfectly capable.”

  “I know you are. But I carried you in here in true manly fashion. If you just walk back into the living room, you’ll cancel my heroic effort.”

  “So I’m supposed to lie here like Cleopatra on her barge while you fetch everything?”

  “Yes.” Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself to a sitting position. “That’s exactly what you should do. While I’m at it I’ll bring in the champagne bucket, the flutes and the cheese platter.”

  “We’re goin’ to eat and drink in bed?”

  “I thought we would. Is that a problem?”

  “We might make a mess.”

  “We might.” He suspected he’d just uncovered one of her perfectionist tendencies, one that wouldn’t risk eating in bed and getting food on the sheets. “Would that bother you?”

  She hesitated, but then a defiant light flared in her green eyes. “No. No, it won’t.”

  “Are you sure? Because we don’t have to. If you really want to eat at the table in the living room, I won’t make you stay here. I was sort of teasing, anyway.”

  “I want to eat in bed. That was the old me popping up, the one who always has to eat at an actual table, the one who worries about food stains on sheets, whether they’re mine or they belong to a hotel. The new me, or at least the tonight version of me, doesn’t care about those things. Bring it on.”

  “Okay.” He wished that they had more than one night together. He’d like to watch this transformation continue. “Then I’ll be back in a flash with everything we need.”

  “In one trip?”

  “Sure.”

  “This I’ve got to see.”

  “Prepare to be amazed.” He slid off the bed and stood. He was still a little wrecked, but she was probably right about needing food. He wanted to keep up his strength. The night was young.

  As he walked out of the bedroom, he marveled that he would be spending the entire night alone in this suite with Jeannette. He had trouble believing they’d just met, because he felt as if he’d known her a long time. Some said if you found the right person, you’d know it instantly.

  He wasn’t sure he agreed with that, but if there were any truth to the idea, then he’d experienced that immediate recognition with Jeannette. Even her body was familiar to him. He’d teetered on the brink of insanity during her striptease, but every time she’d revealed another lovely part, he’d thought, Oh, yeah, there you are.

  Weird. But they only had this one night, and she was going home Monday. He needed to remember that. There was no reason to believe she’d changed her mind. This wasn’t a movie where she’d get all sappy and run back to him right before she boarded her plane.

  He found the room-service menu on a large desk in a far corner of the living room. Tucking the leather-bound menu under his arm, he surveyed the cheese platter, the champagne bucket, the crystal flutes and the box of condoms. He could do this. He’d seen a movie where the guy carried flutes without using his hands—except he wouldn’t make the mistake the guy had.

  He shoved a flute in each of his hip pockets. Then he tucked the condom box under one arm, grabbed the champagne bucket and picked up the cheese tray.

  When he walked into the bedroom with all of it, she laughed. “That’s awesome, but where are the flutes?”

  He turned to show her.

  “Oh, my God! Like in Sabrina.”

  “That’s the one. I just have to remember not to sit down.”

  “I love that movie. Both the original and the remake.”

  “Me, too.” He set the ice bucket on the nightstand and put the cheese platter on the bed. After placing the box of condoms on the nightstand, he handed her the menu before pulling the flutes out of his back pockets. “Safe. Want some champagne?”

  “I’d love some.” She studied the menu, but did not, however, pick up any of the cheese.

  He peeled the foil off the champagne bottle. “Grab a flute, will you? I don’t know if this will foam or not.”

  “Okay.” She laid down the menu and picked up one of the glasses. “Maybe we should do this in the bathroom.”

  He glanced at her. Old habits were hard to break, but he had an inspiration on how to confront this one and have fun doing it. At least he’d have fun. “I have a better idea. Lie down while you’re holding the glass.”

  �
�Lie down?”

  “Yeah.” He cautiously twisted the metal wire holding the cork in place. Sometimes the bottles blew once that was gone. He’d rather this one didn’t.

  “If you say so.” She moved the cheese platter to the other side of the bed and stretched out. “Where should I hold it?”

  “Oh, let’s see.” Before he finished taking off the wire, he guided her hand until the flute was poised about three inches above her navel. “That should do it.”

  “I think I know where this is headed.”

  “Too obvious?”

  “If you want to drip champagne on me you could do it after you’ve poured it.”

  “But then there’s no adventure.” He took off the wire and the cork stayed put. Using the small towel the hotel had provided, he placed it over the cork and put one knee on the bed so he could open the bottle close to where she held the glass.

  “If you get the sheets soaked you’re sleeping on this side.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to do much sleeping tonight.” To his intense disappointment, the cork popped out and he didn’t get a drop of champagne on her luscious body. He’d have to be a little sloppy when he poured it, then.

  Tossing the towel and cork aside, he leaned down and carefully poured champagne into the flute. He kept pouring.

  “Zach, that’s enough. Zach!” she yelped as the bubbly liquid trickled over the top of the glass and spilled onto her silky skin. “I knew you would do this. I knew it.”

  “And you were right! Here, let me have that glass before you spill all over yourself.”

  “Very funny. This champagne is cold, Zach. Extremely cold.”

  “Let’s see if I can warm you up.” After setting down her glass on the nightstand, he climbed onto the bed.

  “I hope you’re getting a charge out of this.”

  “I am. So will you.” He began to lick the champagne where it had pooled in her navel.

  “That’s...different.”

  “I’m just getting started.” He licked his way up to her breasts. “Darn, no champagne. Let me fix that.” He picked up the flute and dribbled some onto her.