Physical Touch

by Hill, Sierra

  Rylie looked up at Mitch, her eyes full of guilt and shame.

  “Oh no. Please don’t let what happened here ruin your business partnership. You have a lot riding on this deal. I would feel horrible if I had anything to do with you losing money or this project.”

  Mitch kissed her lips softly, tasting a hint of strawberry and champagne on her breath.

  “Rylie, knowing what I now know about Randall Tully, there is no way I’d ever continue to do business with him. Ever. Do you understand?” His hands reached out to cradle Rylie’s face, as he laid a kiss on her forehead.

  Rylie raised up on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek and smiled. “Thanks. You’re a pretty decent guy for being such an impossible asshole,” she joked, grabbing his hand and leading him toward the bar. “Now I think I’m in need of a drink after that little episode.”

  “One drink, coming right up.”

  ****

  Rylie laid her head back on the headrest as Mitch drove them back to the beach house from the party. The warm feel of the ocean breeze caressed her face as the convertible sped along the Oceanside road with the top down. She also was feeling pretty good and buzzed, accentuating said warm feelings of contentment.

  After the shock had worn off from Tully’s confrontation, the remainder of the evening was filled with more dancing, mingling, dinner, and more than a few champagne cocktails. She was feeling the tingling effects of a nice buzz and was relaxed, as Mitch remained by her side the entire night. His hand was either holding hers or wrapped around her tightly. A warm, satisfied feeling swept over her at one point as they danced to a slow, sexy Enrique Iglesias song and she lifted her head to see him smiling down at her.

  Oh – what that smile did to her. She couldn’t think about anything else as she was transfixed in his gaze, sending molten heat flowing through her body, landing squarely between her thighs. She wanted him to take her out on the beach and do very bad, bad things to her. She wanted to feel the rough texture of the sand against her naked body, a contrast to the smooth abs and chest pressed snug against her.

  Rylie was itching for Mitch to touch her and had finally come to the conclusion tonight that she wanted to sleep with him. Her only problem now was how to let him know what she wanted. She’d never made the first move before, always leaving it up to the guy and usually their hasty efforts at foreplay. And she certainly wasn’t vocal about her needs or desires. Would she just ask Mitch to make love to her or demand it? What if he liked it rough and dirty? She’d never experimented with much of anything out of the norm, that simple vanilla kind of sex. But the way he made her feel, she was willing to try just about anything, as long as instruction was included.

  She’d finally come to a decision about what she wanted from him as he parked the car outside the house and walked over to open her door. Dropping his hand to her, she took hold and stood up, losing her balance. Wobbling on her heels, she grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.

  “A little tipsy, are we?”

  “Nah,” she slurred, a tiny hiccup escaping. “It must be the heels. I don’t usually wear these things.” She tried to bend down to illustrate her sure footedness, but toppled again into his arms.

  “Okay. Whatever you say. Let’s go inside and get you some water so you can get to bed.”

  Rylie giggled and repeated. “Get me to bed…suuuurre. That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  Mitch gave her a speculative glance, assisting her with the removal of her shoes and holding her elbow as she entered the house.

  Whoa. The room was definitely spinning a bit more than it should. Maybe she should just get some water and lay down for a while to get her bearings before she started on her mission - The Seduction of Mitch. Rylie giggled to herself and found a chair to sit down, as Mitch handed her the glass of water.

  “Here – you need to drink this. Champagne has a way of sneaking up on you.”

  Rylie hiccupped again and drank thirstily. Finishing the glass, she fumbled with it before setting it down. Looking back up at Mitch, she found him leaning against the kitchen wall, arms crossed, watching her with a bemused look.

  “Whatcha doing way over there, Camden? I think you should be over here by me,” she demanded, pointing to the space in front of her.

  Another hiccup. Dammit.

  “I’m keeping my distance, IQ. You are way too sexy for your own good and a little too drunk, which is a really bad combination. And you’re very, very tempting. Distance is our friend right now.”

  “Well I disagree. How am I supposed to seduce you if you’re way over there,” she said, throwing a flailing hand in the air toward him and then back at her. “And I’m way over here?”

  Mitch chuckled and pushed off against the wall to pick up her glass and refill it for her. Reaching out to her, Rylie shook her head in disapproval.

  “I don’t want more water.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  Rylie chewed on her lower lip, realizing it was now or never. “I want what you promised me last night. You said you wanted to fuck me.” She tried to stand, but her legs gave way. Mitch was right there to catch her, his hands holding her up under her arms.

  Mitch let out a noise that sounded like air deflating from a tire. “Dammit, Rylie. I’ve been waiting so long to hear that from you. But not tonight when you’re drunk. You need to go to bed to sleep this off. I want you completely stone-cold sober when I take you.”

  She sucked in a shaky breath, getting ready to argue and plead her case, but her eyelids began to droop and her body felt laden with brick and mortar. Mitch carefully assisted her to the guestroom where he adroitly removed her dress and gently laid her on the bed. Rylie lay there, exposed to Mitch in just her pink lace strapless bra and lace thong, looking up at him with a forlorn expression.

  Closing her eyes, she mumbled, her head falling back onto the soft pillow.

  “Okay, maybe later.”

  CHAPTER nineteen

  She woke up thirsty, thirstier than she’d ever been. She pushed herself to an upright position, a feeling of dizziness fluttering through her brain. Gaining her balance, she peeked over at the clock on the bedside table which read two-thirty. Holy cow. She must have passed out as soon as they got home. She was kicking herself for drinking so much champagne. Why didn’t she just stick with her usual beer? Champagne, that conniving backstabber.

  Rylie quietly got out of bed, gingerly walking into the bathroom, turning on the dimmer switch to a soft glow. She turned on the water faucet as a glass and a note next to it caught her attention.

  “Drink this” the note read. Mitch.

  Well, that was thoughtful. And after the stupidity she pulled earlier with her oh-so-smooth hot shot seductive moves, he should have made a laughing stock out of her. As her brother would say at a time like this, “Smooth move, Ex-lax.” God, she felt like a fool.

  She fished back into her memory at her actions earlier in the evening, trying to determine how embarrassed she should feel at the moment. Let’s see. There was the unbelievable turn of events at the party with Tully and two local police. Yeah, that was priceless. Nearly getting arrested by Mitch’s business associate. Very classy.

  And then there was the moment she practically fell down drunk into his arms when she was trying to ever so coolly and seductively get out of his convertible. She was uncoordinated even on the best of days, but with a few glasses, or five, of bubbly, she was a downright circus freak.

  And the coup de grace? The icing on the cake? The way her not-so- smooth and charming maneuvers failed to get Mitch to take her to bed. Epic fail. He was probably wracking his brain at this moment trying to figure out a way to end this thing before it even started. She was a joke. A great story he could tell his friends about the time “this incredibly stupid drunk girl came on to me and then passed out before anything got under way.”

  Finishing the water and handling her bio needs, Rylie pulled on the T-shirt that was on the end of the bed. She looked down at t
he bra and panties she still wore and had a faint recollection of Mitch slipping off her dress and shoes and laying her down on her bed. His hands had caressed her arms, as the material slid down her limbs. A ripple of sensual heat fluttered through her now, reawakening the aching need that had been building over the course of the last week.

  Straining to hear if Mitch was up and awake, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Holding her breath, she walked across the hall to Mitch’s room, listening for any indication of life on the other side of the door.

  Looking down at her feet, hesitantly shifting from one foot to the other, she debated whether she should knock. Weighing the merits of making any more of a fool of herself, she at least wanted to apologize for her ridiculously moronic behavior earlier. She’d rather hide her face until she left tomorrow and avoid the awkwardness of this whole thing, but she had to grow a pair and deal with her mess.

  Knocking softly, she waited. Nothing.

  Taking a chance, she turned the knob and opened the door, peeking her head through the crack as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

  “Mitch? Are you awake?”

  Silence. Just as she was about to turn and leave, she noticed the curtains were pulled back and the patio door open. Taking a breath, she propelled herself forward with all the courage she could muster, and stepped out into the warm, humid air. Mitch was in a lounge chair, legs stretched out in front of him, a cognac sifter in his hand, staring out into the night. He looked relaxed and so incredibly sexy.

  “Hey,” she whispered.

  Turning his head slightly, she could see the outline of his smile in the dark.

  “Hey, yourself. You feeling better? You’ll likely have a killer headache in the morning.”

  Rylie took the remaining steps toward his chair and stood over him.

  “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “No problem.”

  She stood there, unsure of how to proceed. All she knew was that he was more intoxicating than any drink in the world. He smelled so good, musky and spicy, like a worn leather.

  “I’m really sorry for making such a mess of tonight. For Tully and getting accidentally drunk and…for making a fool of myself.”

  Mitch took a sip of his drink and slowly placed it down on the ground. Inching his hips and legs toward the side of the chair, he extended his hands to her.

  “Come here.”

  His command flooded her body with heat. His words held such promise – forgiveness, kindness, redemption and sweet, sweet seduction.

  Her feet moved in accordance to his request, bringing her within touching distance of his body. His hand darted out and grabbed her wrist, yanking her down so that she was sitting on the edge of the chair, her back to his chest.

  He leaned into her, his mouth at her ear, the sound of his voice as smooth as the scent of Scotch on his breath.

  “None of that was your fault, Rylie. I shouldn’t have put you in that situation,” he murmured into her neck, as his lips came down to lightly brush her skin.

  And just like that, her worry over her transgressions evaporated and her body took over. In a move that shocked and surprised even her, she pulled the T-shirt over her head, dropping it to the patio floor and swung a leg over Mitch’s body. Straddling his lap, her hands went to his chest, as her ass wiggled across his groin.

  “Just so you know, I have three rules…”

  “Rules?” he asked, his voice soft and low, a hint of curiosity, but displaying no other surprise over the direction of the conversation.

  “Yes, rules. Number one – I don’t want to hear flowery terms of endearment in the heat of the moment. Call me by my name is okay, but no pet names.”

  “So no IQ?”

  “Not when you’re trying to make me come.” She smiled wickedly.

  Mitch stifled a laugh and gave her a check off signal with his hand. “Got it. Next?”

  “Rule number two – no kinky stuff. I’m not interested in that.”

  “Absolutely. Not my thing, either,” he said, nuzzling his nose between her breasts, his tongue licking the flesh licentiously. “And number three?”

  Rylie grabbed Mitch’s hands and brought them to her lace covered breasts. She arched into his palms, enjoying the intense pleasure and heat of his palm.

  “Rule number three is…” she inhaled sharply, trying to catch her breath.

  “What?” he pleaded, his thumb circling her nipples through the material.

  She was hesitant, but wanted to be honest with him before they went further. She wasn’t experienced like most of the women he had been with.

  “I need you to help me - show me what to do. What you like. I want you to teach me everything.”

  Mitch’s hands left her breasts and he combed his fingers through the silky strands of Rylie’s hair, a low growl emerging from his chest. He tugged her mouth down to his, capturing it with his lips.

  “It will be my pleasure.” His voice came out in a husky rumble. “Are you ready for lesson one?”

  Rylie nodded her head. “Yes.”

  “Unbutton my shirt.”

  Rylie tugged the shirt from his pants and began to slowly unbutton his dress shirt with shaking fingers, as they skimmed across the exposed flesh of his chest with each undone button. The shirt lay open, as her eyes took in the exposed beauty of his golden chest. Her hands began to roam, charting a course down below, wanting to feel his steely length.

  Mitch’s head fell back with a moan, and then came back up, his face nuzzling her breasts. His hands reached behind her, stilling for a moment as he looked up to meet her intense gaze with an imploring expression. “May I?”

  Her heart was torn open with his gentlemanly request. Rylie bit her lip and shook her head in confirmation. She had never wanted anything more than to feel his hands covering her naked, swollen breasts. The clasp came undone, as Mitch let it drop to the floor, his hands gently brushing the skin of her arms, his fingers igniting a trail of heat with his touch.

  His hands brushed over her lush curves, his thumbs flicking over her hardened nipples and she arched up, beseeching him for more.

  He bent down, taking a nipple into his mouth and he began to suck. “Everything about you makes me so fucking hot.”

  Rylie sighed from sheer pleasure of his mouth, her hands sliding through his hair, yanking him closer as the sensations intensified. She groaned from the exquisite torture as she looked down to watch him, her breasts pressed into his palms as he explored her with his tongue. He smiled up at her with pure male satisfaction.

  Her hands resumed their course lower, as she pressed her hand firmly against his erection. “I want to touch you,” she said with a shaky voice.

  Rylie felt his arousal pulse against her, as his hands went to his pants, lacing his fingers with hers.

  “Unzip me…” His voice was deep with desire.

  Rylie did as instructed, unzipping his tailored pants, tugging them down past his hips and feet, throwing them in a heap to the ground. She could see the outlined silhouette of his hardened shape straining against the material of his dark gray boxer briefs. She slid her fingers underneath the elastic waistband, pulling them down, his erection springing free.

  Rylie felt wildly out of control as she gazed upon his impressive length. A maddening hunger and power coursed through her and the need to touch him took over. Her fingers trailed down through the mesh of hair, as she locked her hand around his hard and thick length. He felt like smooth marble. Mitch thrummed in her hand, as her own sex clenched in a heady response. She grazed a fingertip lightly over the tip, flicking a drop of moisture from his head.

  A guttural groan surged from the depths of Mitch’s chest, as his hand took possession of hers. “Grab the base tight…now stroke,” he instructed, moving her gripped hand up and down his erection. “Oh, shit, that feels so good.”

  Rylie was coming apart at the seams as she watched Mitch’s expression and heard the need in his voice. His head fell back agai
nst the chair, as his hands slid up and down her thighs with the same pace and rhythm. She moved wantonly against his leg in the same motion, feeling wet and slick, aching for something just beyond her reach.

  Breathless, Mitch took hold of her hand, unwrapping it from his cock. “Unless you want this tutorial over before it begins, I need you to stop this wicked pleasure.” His hands reached behind her, cupping her ass and pulling her up into his arms as he stood.

  Rylie gave a surprised gasp. “Wh– what are you doing?”

  “I’m taking you into my bed so I can continue with your lessons.”

  She caught her breath in response, wrapping her legs around him as she’d done so many times in the water over the last couple days. This time, she wanted nothing between them – she wanted to feel his nakedness crushing against her; inside her.

  He gently laid her on the bed, Rylie landing with a soft thud, as he tore off his shirt sending it flying in a heap on the floor. Rylie stared at him for several beats as he stood over her, every part of his body now on display for her pleasure. All she had left between them was her panties. Did he want her to take them off for him? Her hand went to her belly, splaying it across her abdomen. Mitch stared at her like he was a starving man and she was his buffet.

  “Rylie, you are so fucking beautiful,” he growled, bending over her, as he began to trace an invisible line that started from her ankle, up the inside of her thigh. “So gorgeous.” His fingers traced the edge of her lace panties, as she sucked in a breath. He continued the same movement on the opposite leg.

  “Spread your legs for me.”

  She did as he asked, lifting her head off the mattress to see what he was going to do. Her nipples were puckered and hard, as he reached out to touch them, playfully circling the pink peaks, as he moved in between her legs. A shiver ran down her spine, as gooseflesh traveled her body from her arms to her toes.

  His interest diverted, his hands trailed along the sensitive skin, his tongue following the same path. It was obvious that Mitch was taking his time, in no particular hurry, leisurely enjoying the foreplay. Rylie, on the other hand, wasn’t sure she was capable of waiting. It felt like she’d been waiting all her life for this moment. And she wanted it all now.