Down for the Count (Dare Me 1)

by Christine Bell

  “That’s, oh, wow. I didn’t think I could, but… Now I get it. I so get it,” she said, gasping for air. Her fingers still had his hair in a death grip and her legs twitched. In spite of the need grinding at him, he wanted to stand up and do a victory lap.

  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, squirt.”

  “I don’t know if I can handle better than that.” She quivered as he gently pulled away. “Please, stay with me. I want—”

  “Condom and I’ll be right back,” he said, then rolled to his feet.

  “No,” she gasped, sitting up to take his arm. “I’m on the Pill if you…” She trailed off, her bourbon eyes still hot with need.

  Her trust in him was humbling and he owed her no less. It was liberating to be with someone who he had a history with and could depend on not to try to trap him or trick him. Only with Lacey. “I’m safe. This is a first for me,” he admitted and moved to crawl back into the bed with her.

  “Wait. The thing you said before. About my hair? I…really want to do that.” She wet her lips and shimmied down the bed until her mouth was a scant inch from his tackle. His body went into lockdown mode, as if central command had pulled the plug. His mind bellowed, Back away, but his cock was clearly the stronger force, because nothing short of a grenade could’ve gotten him to budge. Almost in slow motion, her pink tongue peeked out for a swipe over the head of his cock.

  “Mmm,” she murmured, taking him in her hand and dropping to her haunches as if settling in.

  “Lacey,” he protested weakly, reaching out a hand to pull her away. But she took his hand and buried it into her hair, wrapping her fist around his until he held her in a punishing grip. His balls drew tight against his body. “You don’t have to do this.”

  She peered up at him and smiled. “I know. But I want to.” Then she sucked him in hard, cheeks hollowing as she drew deep, deeper until he hit the soft flesh at the back of her throat. She let go of his hand, but her assistance was no longer needed as he worked her over his cock by that sexy mane of hair. The tight, wet suction was a siren’s song too seductive to escape. All too soon, he felt it. The cum pooling low in his balls, the tension low and tight in his belly.

  “We’ve got to stop or I’m going to come.” His warning fell on deaf ears, because he tugged at her hair, but she just kept on going. In fact, she was moving more quickly, her head bobbing between his legs. “Fuck,” he growled, and then he exploded into the molten cavern of her mouth, holding her to him as he spurted hard into her throat.

  Chapter Eight

  Dreaming. Surely she was dreaming. Galen stood in front of her, all big, hard muscles, his face a mask of pleasure so keen it could’ve been pain. She lapped the soft, broad head one last time.

  “So good,” he muttered as he released his grip on her hair and trailed a gentle finger over her cheek.

  “I had no idea,” she said, wondering if he could even hear her over the pounding of her heart.

  He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, holding her close. “That’s the tip of the iceberg. There’s so much more.”

  She nuzzled his throat, breathing in the musky scent of him with a happy sigh. “I want to. I want it all.” Emboldened by his attention, she wriggled in his arms, letting her nipples drag through the light smattering of hair on his chest.

  “Nice,” he hissed, and slid his hands lower to cup her bottom. He tilted his hips into her, his already thickening member prodding her belly. A tendril of fresh need curled in her belly. And then her stomach growled.

  “How about breakfast?” he asked with a chuckle, giving her bottom a playful slap.

  Who knew good sex was such hungry business? She stepped back and glanced down at his increasing erection. “Are you sure you don’t want to?” She waggled her eyebrows and took him in hand for a gentle squeeze.

  “We have all day, and if what we just did was any indication, we’re both going to need the fuel.”

  His dark eyes held a sensual promise that almost made her forget the food altogether. Then her stomach growled again and he chuckled. “I make a mean ham on rye,” he said, tossing her his T-shirt.

  “For breakfast?”

  “I have three things in my repertoire. Sandwiches, steak on the grill, and protein shakes. Take your pick.”

  “Ham on rye it is.”

  He slipped on his boxers and they made their way into the kitchen, laughing like teenagers.

  While he fixed the sandwiches, she cut up a mango and poured some juice to go with it.

  “Tell me what it was like with Marty.”

  She curled her lip and winced. “Ugh, seriously? Why would you want to hear that?”

  “I can’t get my head around a guy being with a woman who looks like this”—he waved a hand up and down in her direction—“who is so sexual and responsive, and leaving it on the table that way. It’s a sacrilege,” he said with an incredulous shake of his head.

  She set the knife down and tugged at the hem of her shirt self-consciously. “I think you’re biased because of our…recent activities. I don’t think anyone has ever referred to me as sexy.”

  “You are, though.” He took the cap off the mustard and smeared some on their bread.

  “It’s not blatant or even intentional, but it’s there. The way you move and in your expressive, curious face. All that was missing was a guy smart enough to see it and want to coax it out to play.”

  To play. She couldn’t forget that part. This was all for fun.

  He sliced the sandwiches in half and set their plates on the granite island before sitting on one of the stools. “Let’s eat.”

  She moved to sit on the opposite stool, but he pulled her to the space between his legs so she was leaning against him. “I feel like I need to be close to you right now. Humor me.”

  A warm thrill ran through her at his words, but she tamped it down to a trickle. She wouldn’t take every little thing he said and read something into it. She would seize the frigging day and enjoy her time here. Then, and not until then, she would think about what the future held for her.

  They ate their sandwiches in companionable silence. When they finished, he plucked up a piece of mango and held it to her mouth.

  She took it from between his fingers with her teeth, lapping a drop of juice from his thumb with her tongue.

  “That will be burned in my memory forever,” he said in a low, husky voice that made her nipples go hard.

  “Wh-what will?”

  “Of you. Giving me head so enthusiastically. So fucking good.”

  She subconsciously shifted to thrust her bottom against him, enflamed by his words. He groaned his approval and took her hips in a tight grip. “Turn around.” It sounded like a challenge, and it was one she was more than happy to accept.

  She turned in his arms, and he slipped his hand around her neck, pressing two fingers to her pulse. “I see how you want me, and I can’t even describe how hard it gets me.”

  The intensity of his gaze threatened to swallow her whole. She looked away. “You make me feel beautiful.”

  “You are beautiful.”

  Her heart swelled in her chest, and she pressed her forehead to his for fear of him seeing the truth in her eyes. She was in love with him already, if she hadn’t been before, and it terrified her. He snaked his hand around to her nape and captured her lips with his. The kiss was tender, sweet, almost reverent. And then it wasn’t. Like a wildfire blazing from the smallest of embers, it raged out of control. He nipped at her lower lip until she opened for him, then soothed the tender spot with his tongue. His free hand crept around her waist and shoved the cotton shirt up so he could touch her skin.

  He released her mouth and stood, kicking the stool out from behind him. It hit the counter with a crash.

  The T-shirt was up and over her head in a flash, and in one move he’d lifted her onto the island. She gasped as the cool granite hit her skin, scalding with need.

  “Galen?”

/>   His eyes had gone almost black, and his gaze raked her from head to toe. He was like a man possessed. Dropping to a crouch, he draped her thighs over her broad shoulders and pressed a palm to her belly, easing her back until she was open to him, supporting herself on her hands.

  “I can see how wet you are, slick and ready for me.”

  His warm breath washed over her clit, his whispered words shaking her to the core, and she whimpered.

  “Yes. So ready.”

  Just the anticipation of him sliding deep inside her made her heart flutter. How could she be so turned on when he’d barely touched her this time?

  Her thought blew away like feathers on the beach as he pressed two fingers to her and thrust deep. Sensation overwhelmed her, and she cried out, scrabbling at the countertop with her nails. A moment later, he bent and covered her with his tongue, lapping then sucking. She couldn’t help but chant his name and arch against his mouth. More. She would die if he didn’t give her more. And like magic, he did, quickening the pace, licking and suckling harder and faster.

  Her body tensed, poised for climax, and she froze. “Please, Galen. With you this time. Please.”

  He tore his mouth away and slid his fingers from her. “Fuck yeah.”

  Supporting her legs, he slid them off his shoulders and stood. He peered down between them, a feral smile spread across his lips. “You’re so sweet, I could stay down there forever,” he said, spreading her thighs wide. “But I need to be inside you so bad.”

  He didn’t bother taking off his boxers. Instead, he shoved them over his hips until his cock thrust forward, bumping against her thigh. She watched, breathless, as he closed his hand over himself and he looked up, noting her rapt attention.

  “You like what you see?” he asked, gripping himself tighter and stroking his shaft from base to tip.

  She couldn’t keep the strangled groan from escaping her lips and her eyes shot to his. “Is that weird?”

  “Weird that you like to watch me touch myself?” he asked, frowning. “Are you kidding me? You’re my wet dream come to life.”

  He did it again, working himself in one long jerk, then squeezing. Her breath came in pants as he moved faster and faster and his erection swelled to the point that she knew a moment of fear.

  “The look on your face right now is almost worth making myself come all over your thighs and stomach rather than make you nervous, but I have to be inside you.” His voice sounded like he’d taken a karate chop to the throat. “I’ll go slow.”

  She looked up. “I-I think I’d like that sometime. For you to…do that on my stomach,” she said before she could change her mind about saying it.

  He groaned and stepped closer, lining the swollen head of his cock up with her entrance. He pressed forward, inch by excruciating inch. Full, she felt so full, but he continued until her body resisted, the depths unyielding.

  “You are so goddamned tight, babe. I can’t—” When he paused, her body relaxed and stretched around him. He pulsed and twitched deep inside her, and she moaned. He spoke through gritted teeth. “You good? Am I hurting you?”

  She shook her head, too taken by the sensation of having him inside her to speak. Jerking her hips toward him, she urged him forward. With a growl he withdrew, then drove in hard and deep. She came instantly, her orgasm crashing over her as she cried out his name. The aftershock still rocked her when he began to move. Slow at first, a shallow thrust, then deeper until his pubic bone ground against her clit with every plunge. She opened her eyes and looked down to the place where their bodies were joined. Where his heavy sex, glossy with her juices, moved in and out of her, faster and faster. He gripped her thigh, his movements becoming frantic, and he grew impossibly harder inside her.

  “With me, Lacey,” he groaned and pressed a finger to her clit.

  The touch went through her like lightning. She sobbed and broke apart, the column of her sex clamping over him. He tumbled after her, gritting his teeth then bellowing her name as he jerked deep inside her. When their quivers subsided, he pulled her into his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tight, pressing soft kisses against his shoulder.

  With me, Lacey, he’d said.

  If only he’d meant forever.

  Chapter Nine

  It was evening by the time they emerged from the bedroom again. He tugged Lacey into the shower, and she laughed, hiding her face in his shoulder, trying to shield herself from him.

  “I just spent the better part of the day kissing, licking, and sucking every part of you, and you’re going to get shy again? No way.” He kissed her hard and pulled away until he could see her entire body. She blushed, but she didn’t turn away.

  Funny how he’d been on a mission to drive her wild. He’d succeeded, and had the scratches on his back to prove it. But what he hadn’t expected was for her to drive him just as crazy. Hell, she’d knocked him flat on his ass. Giving and greedy. Sensual but sweet. He’d never been with anyone like her.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked, swiping the wet hair from her face.

  “Taking you out,” he said. It was the truth. He wanted to take her on the town in a pretty dress and open doors for her. She deserved to be doted on some.

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s get ready for a special night, and we’ll go down and talk to the concierge. Maybe dinner and the casino?”

  She shook her head and held up a hand. “I’m not really a gambler, but I’ll watch if you want to go.”

  “We’ll figure something out. Now go get ready.” He gave her one more quick kiss and shooed her out of the stall.

  After he dried off and dressed, he waited in the living room while she did whatever face-painting, boob-taping ritual girls did to get ready for a fancy night out. An hour later he was just about to start complaining when she walked into the living room and sent his jaw swinging.

  Her honey-colored mane swung loose around her bare shoulders, framing her glowing face beautifully. The black dress she’d chosen was shorter than anything he’d ever seen her wear and showed off her gorgeous gams to perfection. “Damn, squirt. You are so fine.”

  Her hand fluttered to her midriff and she looked away. “Yeah, well, thank your sister. She insisted that every girl needs a little black dress—emphasis on the ‘little’—and she made me buy it for the honeymoon.”

  “Remind me to send her some flowers.”

  He hustled her out the door before she changed her mind and her clothes, and they made their way to the main hall reception desk.

  “Good evening, Jesus. We were hoping you could offer some suggestions for a big night on the town.”

  “Oh, hello Mr. and Mrs. Clemson. I was going to come to you today, but things got very busy here at the desk. You had some more phone calls.” He ruffled through some papers on his desk and held out a pile of messages.

  She eyed them like they’d been dipped in acid. “All of them from my mother?”

  He shrugged then nodded. “Yes. She, ah, really wants you to call her, I think.”

  Lacey straightened her shoulders and smiled at him. “You can just chuck those in the trash. In fact, unless something important comes through, you don’t have to bring them up to me anymore. No need for a special trip. I think I got the gist yesterday.”

  Galen took her hand and gave it an approving squeeze.

  “If you insist, ma’am.” Jesus looked almost comically relieved and he tossed the pile in the garbage can behind the desk. “Now, for this evening, would you like to salsa, maybe?”

  “God, no!” Lacey said with a violent shake of her head. “Too hard. Maybe just a little place where we can sway together and have a cocktail.”

  “Let me give you a list of places.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and slid it over the counter. “Another thought is the dinner cruise. They have two each evening, and the second one is scheduled to leave in thirty minutes. People say good things about it, and it offers a little of everythin
g. Gambling, entertainment, dinner, and a great view.”

  Galen sent Lacey a questioning glance.

  She nodded. “Sounds like fun, and it’s a beautiful night.”

  Armed with directions, they made the fifteen-minute walk to the ship. It was small, large enough for maybe fifty people, but it was luxuriously appointed with teak railings that gleamed in the fading evening sunlight.

  The host welcomed them onboard, then sat them for dinner with a wide smile. “Your waiter will be here with our cocktail specials and wine list in just a moment. Enjoy!”

  They thanked him and settled into their cozy booth, taking in the view of the island from the water. The room was open on all sides, and a balmy breeze kicked up as the ship pulled away from the pier.

  An hour, two beers, and a plate of guanimes later, Lacey paused with a spoonful of flan halfway to her lips, her brows raised in outrage.

  “So that’s why Jimmy MacTurk called me Lacey Drawers.”

  Her retelling of the childhood memory had him grinning. “That’s a pretty good reason for the nickname. I mean, if you’re going to go around flashing your bloomers at him.” He shrugged.

  “I wasn’t flashing him! I was just riding on the seesaw. He was a little perv, is all.”

  He laughed, and she joined him, dropping the mock annoyance. “I have so much fun with you,” she said softly.

  He nodded and took her hand. “Right back at you.”

  They stared stupidly at each other, grinning like fools, until their waiter came to take their plates.

  “Good choice,” she said on a sigh. “This ship is really lovely.”

  He stood and took her hand. “Shall we see what else it has to offer?”

  “Definitely.”

  Full from their meal, they took their time strolling the perimeter of the boat, stopping to greet other couples and take in the view. They passed a wide set of doors and a slow, sensual beat caught his ear. He tugged her toward it. “Maybe they have a band playing and we can do some dancing. Come on.”