He applied himself to her pleasure and to his discovery, licking soft surfaces and glancing off the small hard one. She tilted her pelvis, offering up her clit, but he avoided it then, sliding down and then into her tight channel, forcing his stiff tongue as far as it could go, breaking into a sweat as he tasted another flood of her desire.
His hand crept up her hip and her ribs to her breast. And he thumbed the nipple, feeling her body begin to hum. Her hips tilted again, a sharper angle, and he buried his face in her juicy pussy, wanting her scent all over him, committing this one-night stand to sensual memory.
He was lost in everything Sloane when the crisis crashed over her. “Oh!” she cried out, her hands clawing at the sheets, her body arching. He slid his mouth to her clit and pushed a long finger inside her. As she began to quake, he sucked her nub and drove into her slick channel, again and again, now with two fingers, feeling her close over them with muscles contracting furiously.
As the climax receded, he gentled his mouth and slid his fingers free. Resting the side of his head on the pillow of her thigh, he lapped at her with soothing strokes. When she’d quieted completely, he sat up and brought his wet fingers to his mouth, sucking her release from them.
He met her eyes, shrugged. “You taste…”
“What?” she asked, going from sated-looking to curious.
“Like this,” he answered, then crawled over her to kiss her, sliding his tongue against hers, tasting her deeply so she could taste herself just as thoroughly. She moaned and her hands came up to his shoulders. Digging in, she kneaded him like a cat, pressing her lips to his, totally immersed in the kiss.
As he backed away, she rose up on her elbows to maintain the connection, and he chuckled, the sound muffled by her demanding mouth. When he tore free of her, she looked on him with a ridiculously adorable yet addled expression on her face. A woman in afterglow. Something moved in his chest—his heart, rolling over.
Before he could think to worry over it, Sloane had jackknifed up and now launched herself at him, taking him down to his back, with her hovering over him in a tangle of heated limbs and inconvenient flannel. Between them, they struggled with the material, and once it was wrenched free, she leaned down to his mouth and planted a searing kiss there. But it was a quick kiss, because she was already on the move, her tongue flattening to draw a wet line over his jaw and down his throat. She traced his collarbones with it and he sifted his fingers in her curls as she bumped over his nipple.
It tightened to a sharp point and he groaned, holding her head as she explored the sensitive tip, torturing him with different techniques from lashing to lapping. Then she sucked, causing his hips to buck. Her sharp little teeth were employed next and lightning whipped through his body, pre-cum spurting from the crown of his cock.
His hand flew down, squeezing to keep control of the orgasm churning in his balls. She gave his nipple a last, soothing lick, then played games with the other one, as he thought of cold climates and cold showers and cold shoulders, anything to keep from coming too soon.
Her gaze caught his and he was struck by the light in her eyes, mischief and power and something so feminine it gave him pause. “Sloane,” he said as a warning, because trouble was brewing.
She slid down, her fingers hooking in the waistband of his pajama pants. “Shh,” she said, easing them down. “I’ll be gentle.”
On a groan, his head tilted back, into the pillow, and he lifted his hips so she could work the cotton lower. His knees cocked open as she pulled the fabric free and she accepted his invitation, coming into the space he’d made for her. Licking the hard-on that was all for her.
Maybe no one had ever gone down on her, but she gave head like she enjoyed it, humming as she took him into her mouth, her little tongue circling and tickling, poking into the slit at the crown to lick up the liquid welling there. He groaned, his muscles twitching then tensing, his balls drawing tighter. Blindly he reached for the drawer in the bedside table.
Condom, he thought, desperate to get inside her before he lost control.
A packet finally grasped, he tore it open with his teeth, then gently drew her away from his cock, his fingers wrapped in those curls of hers. Donning the condom was clumsy work with shaking hands, and she finally took over, rolling it over him.
Then he brought her down and rolled on top of her, adjusted. He reminded himself to take it slow and shallow, it had been a long time for both of them.
Four years for her.
Twelve months for him.
He was shaking again, all over, as he fitted the head to her pussy and slid along the wet flesh until he could push in, breaching her with just the crown. She gasped and he kissed her, a soft kiss, a lover’s kiss. Not a one-night stand kiss.
But he didn’t think of that as he drove in another inch. Her arms went around his neck and her hips tilted to take more. To take him, a lover, her lover.
He began to thrust now, he couldn’t bear not to, and she was with him, little moans leaking from where their two pairs of lips joined, and the soft sounds were what did him in. He drove harder and her head fell back, denting the pillow. He bit her chin and sucked on the side of her neck, as he slid his hand down between their bodies to find her clit.
She shivered and he felt it in his dick and there, there it was. Her climax shuddered through her body as she cried out. In response, pleasure eddied in his balls and then rushed up his shaft. He lunged into her channel once more, taking her with a rough thrust, but she responded to it, her body bucking upward as semen shot from him, so much seed he worried he’d overflow the latex.
So much sensation, he worried about ever having the will to leave Sloane, now going lax against him.
But he did, moving quickly so as not to spill a drop, because he would never want to put a woman at risk.
When he came back to the bed she was out. Gone to the world. He moved her boneless body, marveling at the heaviness of her small limbs, post-coitus. When she was satisfactorily positioned, he wound himself around her. His mental alarm clock was in perfect working order.
He set it for sixty minutes of sleep.
One night was all they had and after a recharge he hoped she’d be ready for more.
* * *
Sloane helped sleepy-eyed Paige into her clothes, with Boo looking on with less patience. He knew the drill. Once her daughter was up and dressed, he’d get a walk before breakfast. “Did you have a good sleep, Mama?” Paige asked, mimicking her mother’s first words of the day.
“Thank you, baby, I did.” As the little girl wrestled with the pair of socks she handed her, Sloane smoothed the bedclothes, finding Baby Sally under a pillow and pulling her out to save her from a day of smothering beneath down feathers.
With her small team finally ready, she took Paige by the hand and headed downstairs. “Shh,” she told her daughter, finger to her lips. “Eli is still sleeping.”
Eli had been sleeping when she’d decided to leave his bed an hour before dawn too. Despite the monitor on the table near her pillow, she’d wanted to wait out her daughter’s awakening in her own room. The man had roused as she stirred, and at her quick explanation he’d merely leaned up to kiss her cheek.
An affectionate gesture, she’d thought. Warm. Almost like something a father might bestow on a mother when it was her turn to get up with the crying infant.
A ridiculous notion, she decided now, scowling. It made zero sense to think of him in those terms, not when their string-less night was over.
But it was no time for frowns either, she admonished herself, ushering Paige into the kitchen so she could down a half-cup of coffee before their walk. Last night had been everything he’d promised. A way to blow off steam. An opportunity to explore mutual pleasure. Fun.
Without any expectations of it happening again with Eli or with anyone else, for that matter, she was going to hold the memory close. Maybe even savor it a little. More than a little.
“Let’s go,” she said to Boo, c
licking the spring hook on the leash. He ran over, a huge grin on his face. Happy with the prospect of Now.
An example for her. She latched him up and he pranced to the front door, Paige trailing. The little physical twinges Sloane felt between her thighs only served to remind her that she’d had a great time in bed with the man—and that she didn’t have to spend every hour of her life considering consequences and forecasting the future in order to pre-plan for all eventualities.
Last night, she’d lived in the moment.
Today she was going to do the same.
The spring morning tasted fresh on her tongue and already the sun warmed the air and sparkled on the dew dotting the tree leaves and long grasses along the side of the road. Per Boo’s choice, they turned away from both Eli’s house and her own, and she let him dictate the speed and rate of stopping and going.
Which meant they ambled along and often took breaks so he could sniff and water telephone poles and sprouting dandelions. Neighboring houses were few and set back from the road and though it was Friday, apparently no one was in a hurry to get to work.
Sloane lifted her face to the sun and let the rays wash over her. This living for the moment business had a lot to recommend itself. Her office was closed Fridays and Eli had mentioned it was his day off from the nursery…meaning they might bump into each other at the house more than normal.
But she wasn’t going to turn that into a cause for concern. She and her small posse had reached a utility box that served as their turnaround point, and Boo circled it and then headed back in the direction they’d come. “Would you like pancakes for breakfast?” Sloane asked Paige, who was trailing a long stick across the bumpy asphalt.
The little girl stopped, her downy brows coming together. “Blueberry syrup?”
“I’m pretty sure we have some.” She’d brought a box of varied foodstuffs from her house.
“Yay!” Her doubts alleviated, Paige jumped up and down with enthusiasm.
Sloane smiled, heart going even lighter at her daughter’s appreciation of such a simple thing. It’s what she’d wanted for her from the day the home test showed positive, it’s what she worked for every hour. Paige didn’t need to be raised with luxuries, but Sloane believed a strong foundation of love and blueberry syrup would instill a confidence that would make her daughter into a good person who could live a positive life.
Maybe too heavy a thought for such a lovely morning. Sloane laughed at herself and began skipping, a skill she’d recently taught Paige. Her daughter imitated her movements, and Boo frisked at their side as they made their way to Eli’s.
She’d cook enough pancakes for him, she decided, and leave them warming in the oven in case he chose to sleep late. Bacon, too, because he’d probably be hungry.
A grin overtook her face. After all, he’d expended a lot of calories the night before.
Up ahead, a car appeared. Automatically Sloane ushered the dog and Paige toward the edge of the road. Sidewalks would make the lane safer, but it would take away from the rural atmosphere.
“Paige,” she warned, as she saw the car slow near her own small cottage. “Closer to the side, please. Stay right in front of me.”
Her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, she saw the vehicle stop. A woman emerged from the driver’s side, then waved.
“Oh.” Sloane’s mood dimmed as she recognized JJ’s sister. The other woman, in her late-thirties, looked as put-together as always, her dark hair in a sleek fall of layers. “There’s Aunt Rona.”
Though Boo had already started up Eli’s driveway, Sloane tugged on the leash to return him to the road. Paige looked curiously at the other woman, then back at her mom. “Aunt Rona,” she repeated, as if the name was only vaguely familiar.
Guilt pinched Sloane. Though they’d not seen JJ’s sister in almost four months, since Paige’s grandparents had last visited California, she should probably talk about the woman more. Surely she had some photos of her to show her daughter. They could call her on the phone.
“Let’s go say hi,” she said, urging Paige forward. The other woman ran her gaze over Sloane, from her tumbled hair to the ragged sneakers she was wearing with ankle-length jeans and her Duffy’s T-shirt. In the shower that morning she’d found bruises on her inner thighs and one on the skin inside her hip. Then, she’d considered them symbols of a night well spent, but they began to throb now, and she hoped Rona couldn’t detect the heat rising on her face.
Once they were within earshot, JJ’s sister took another quick peruse of her. “Sloane,” Rona said. “You look…comfortable.”
The implied criticism reminded her of just why she didn’t pursue the relationship, though her disapproval was merely a pale reflection of her mother Diane’s. Still, Sloane tacked on a smile. “What a surprise,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“I had an early meeting in Sawyer Beach.” Rona brushed a piece of unseen lint off her sleeve. She owned a successful, high-end advertising firm in San Luis Obispo, which meant one of their local businesses must be sinking some big bucks into promotion.
“It was so nice of you to stop by,” Sloane said. “Could you come in…” The words spilled from her mouth before she could stop them. She’d have to renege on the offer, she thought in a sudden panic. Somehow explain that her home was for all intents and purposes condemned. Her stomach roiled, knowing she’d feel exposed and disgraced, no matter that it wasn’t her fault.
Rona, thank goodness, shook her head. “I don’t have time for a visit,” she said.
Sloane worked against sagging in relief.
“But I brought something for Paige.” Leaning into her car, she pulled out a pink-and-yellow, shrink-wrapped Easter basket. “Here,” she said, addressing the little girl for the first time. “This is for you.”
“How nice,” Sloane said, helping place the item in her daughter’s arms. More guilt stung. Maybe she could have turned to Rona when she had a housing emergency. Alice and Joe were still not answering their phones. “Say thank you, Paige.”
“Thank you,” the child dutifully parroted, peering through the plastic covering at the candy and plastic toys.
Intrigued by the basket, Boo reared up to inspect it, getting close to Rona.
“Bad dog,” the woman scolded, stepping back. “Shedding hair all over.” She brushed at her skirt.
Sloane choked up on the leash, bringing the dog nearer and giving him a consoling rub with her knee. Rona didn’t like pets, she recalled now. So no, Paige’s aunt wasn’t going to be taking in Sloane’s little family.
Still, she had made a special trip to see her niece. “I hope you can come to Paige’s birthday party,” Sloane said. “I’ll be sure to email you an invitation. It’s scheduled for the Saturday before Easter.”
Thank goodness she’d planned to hold it at a local park, and not her own cottage. A few of Paige’s daycare friends and parents made up the guest list, and a handful of others, along with Alice and Joe who expected to be back from their road trip.
“I’m gonna be four,” Paige piped up.
“Yes,” Rona said, looking at the little girl, then addressing Sloane. “Mother already told me about the party. I think I can make it.”
“Oh.” Diane was passing out invitations now? Tamping down her irritation, Sloane put on another smile. “It would be great to have you there, your husband as well. I know your parents would enjoy it too.”
“About that…”
The unfamiliar note in the brunette’s voice felt like a cold fingernail along Sloane’s spine. She glanced up at the blue sky and felt warmth on her face again. Sun, fresh air, her daughter and her dog by her side, she reminded herself. Live in the moment!
“Sloane, you know Mom and Dad are planning on staying in Sawyer Beach when they arrive next week.”
“Yes. I’m sure you’re disappointed—”
“This is my mother we’re talking about,” Rona said, a more human ruefulness infusing the tone of her voice. “I live in their
former house. Do you suppose I keep it up to her standards?”
Sloane felt a rush of sympathy. Diane’s displeasure with her son’s wife took the form of pinched lips and semi-veiled criticisms. She likely didn’t censor herself to that extent with her daughter.
“Last visit,” Rona continued, “she told me I needed a new vacuum cleaner. I’m almost forty years old and my mother instructs me when to buy a home appliance.”
Sloane grimaced. Yes, maybe the mainly silent censure wasn’t so bad. “I’m sure that’s disheartening, Rona.”
“It’s nothing compared to what she has in mind for you,” the other woman said bluntly.
Sloane froze. “What?” she managed to choke out.
“I don’t want to frighten you…or maybe I think you should be frightened.”
“Paige,” Sloane said, urgent. Every instinct inside her alerted, and adrenaline shot through her bloodstream, her body priming for danger. “Take your new basket and go sit on the front steps.” With a shaking finger, she pointed toward their cottage. “I need just a minute to speak with your aunt.”
Paige complied, and Sloane kept her gaze on her daughter until she’d taken a seat on the concrete as directed. Then she steeled herself and turned toward the other woman. “Rona, what are you talking about?”
“It’s what my mother’s talking about that is concerning me. That will concern you.” She inhaled a deep breath and her dark eyes didn’t leave Sloane’s. “She wants Paige. She’s talking about getting custody of her, full-time custody, and taking her to live with her and my dad in Florida.”
Chapter 9
Though the nursery’s posted schedule showed Friday to be a day off for Eli, as he shoved back the covers on his bed he decided to go into work anyway. In the kitchen, he noted the brewed carafe of coffee and Boo’s missing leash and surmised that Sloane and company were on a morning walk.
As he grabbed the keys to his truck, he considered leaving a note but then decided against the idea.
Their night was over. It wasn’t fair or wise to do anything that she might misconstrue as an attempt to extend their connection.
NO LIMIT (7-Stud Club Book 2) Page 12
