And as heated up as he was, as hungry as he felt, he knew he had to go slowly now. He had to go slowly, make them both feel every touch, every look. He wanted them both to savor every moment. He wanted the experience to change them both forever.
As he opened the suite’s double doors, he thought about showing her around the place—it was pretty lavish—but just as quickly, he realized that nothing between these walls could even remotely compare to the pleasure he wanted to bring her, right now.
So when she walked to the French doors that led to the wide balcony, he followed her out onto it. He pressed his palm to the small of her back as she took in the view. Of course, it was dark out, the sun having long since disappeared, but the sky twinkled with stars, more than he thought he could usually see from here given the proximity to the Miami city lights.
“We used to look at the stars a lot,” he reminded her.
“Because it was free,” she said on a laugh, remembering. Both of them had needed to save most of the money they’d made that summer, but the beach itself had been the perfect playground, both day and night.
“Not a bad show for free,” he pointed out.
And she agreed.
That was when he reached up to draw her blond locks off her shoulder to lower a feather-light kiss to her tender neck. And when she sighed, and even trembled a little at the same time, he took a bit of masculine pride in knowing he could still make her feel something that simple so much.
He closed his hands over her hips as he delivered another soft kiss to the same spot, then another, and another. Holly’s head bent to one side, allowing him easier access, and he could hear nothing but their breathing. Soon, he rained still more tender kisses down over her bare shoulder and then onto the back of it. He suffered the sensation of wanting to kiss her everywhere.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to be this gentle and slow with someone, but then—wait—maybe he could. It had been ten years ago—with her. Maybe she’d been trying to shock him, scare him, with those tidbits about her sexual exploits, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to judge someone and he didn’t care about any of that. What he cared about was Holly the person, the woman. And he wanted her to know it.
Finally, she turned in his arms to kiss him back, and he felt the simple move deep inside—she wanted this, too. And he knew—knew—it had to be more than just sex for her. Otherwise, that first little kiss would never have made her tremble. And her arms wouldn’t be locking quite so tightly around his neck right now. He pulled her close, moved his mouth over hers, felt his hardened cock press into that softest spot between her legs.
They kissed that way for a long time, Trey delivering tender touches, skimming his fingertips down her back, up her arms. The kisses stayed slow, deep, his tongue pressing into her mouth—and as much as he was dying to fuck her, one more thing he couldn’t remember: the last time he’d simply kissed a woman for so long and taken so much pleasure in it.
Finally, though, he needed more. And he knew she did, too. But he still didn’t want to rush. In fact, it made him a little angry at himself remembering that he hadn’t even seen her breasts until today on the beach, and so now he reached up behind her neck and gently pulled the tie that held her sundress in place. When it loosened in front, he stepped back just far enough to draw the fabric down over her tits, putting them on display between them. And just like earlier, out on the sand, he was struck by how gorgeous they were—medium size and pert, the pink nipples beaded and slightly upturned.
“Oh honey,” he murmured, taking them in. And then he bent to lightly flick his tongue over one beautifully taut peak.
Despite the heat, she shivered, and he fell for her all the more.
After that, he took turns kissing and licking each perfect breast as Holly ran her hands through his hair and, above, sighed her pleasure. She leaned back against the balcony railing as he delivered the ministrations, slow and thorough, and knew she was feeling each little lick all the way to her core.
Of course, soon he wanted to kiss and lick other places, too. So he dropped to his knees and slid his hands up under her dress, his touch grazing its way over her knees and up her smooth thighs.
This time when she let out a breath of pleasure, he found himself smiling up at her—and she smiled back. And while those smiles were laced with sex and lust and naughtiness, he knew they were also colored by…comfort. The familiar. Being with her was new…and yet not. It was like being with her now, here, in the present, but also like being with her back in the past as well.
“You want to sit down, fishie?” he murmured, thinking she might be able to more fully relax and enjoy what he was about to do if she was comfortable.
“All right,” she whispered easily, sounding to him so much like the eighteen-year-old version of herself that he knew she’d be angry if she realized it. She seemed so determined to have left her girlhood behind, but what he’d told her was true: He could still see vestiges of that girl inside her—she was just more grown up now, bolder, braver, more confident, and sexy as hell.
She stepped around him to a chair situated next to a small breakfast table, pulling it out to face him, then taking a seat. And he wasted no time turning toward her on his knees and smoothing his palms up her thighs once more beneath the dress. “Lift up,” he said when he encountered lace, and when she raised, he silently drew her panties down and off, over the strappy heels she’d put back on after leaving the beach restaurant.
And then, just as he was about to spread her legs, she did it for him, and in one audacious move lifted them over the chair’s small arms, raising her hem at the same time to put her pussy boldly and incredibly on display.
Damn, she was hot. As he looked into the parted pink folds of her cunt, the skin around it smooth and bare, a rush of arousal like none he’d ever known overtook him. But be cool here. You still want to keep this slow, unhurried. And so after meeting her eyes for one brief moment, he pressed his hands to her inner thighs and leaned in to swirl his tongue directly around her clit.
She cried out softly and the heated sounds echoed all through him as he concentrated on licking and laving every nook and cranny of her perfect pink pussy. Above him, she sighed and whimpered and moaned, her breath catching at times, and he glanced up to see her head dropped back, mouth open in what appeared to be near-ecstasy. He thought he’d never enjoyed going down on a woman as much as he was enjoying this, now, with her—it even surpassed times when they’d been together before. Maybe because this felt like coming full circle. Or maybe because he knew in his heart that even as they shared some hot and dirty pleasures, at the same time he was breaking through her defenses, bit by scintillating bit.
He never rushed, just continued loving the taste of her feminine juices, drinking in her every sound of delight, feeling the warmth and softness of her most intimate flesh around his mouth, face. But soon enough she was murmuring, “Oh God, yes…almost…almost.”
And as the orgasm went blasting through her, it felt almost like all he could do not to come himself, even with no stimulation to his dick at all. Her cries of pleasure rained down on him, all heat and loss-of-control, rolling through him like thunder.
When finally her body stilled, relaxing back in the chair, he rose to press one lone kiss to the rounded flesh beside a pointed mauve nipple, and said, “You are fucking delicious.”
And when she looked down on him, he saw again the girl she used to be. All caught up in passion, in the connection it brought. Her blue eyes looked wild and desperate and even a bit sad as she said, “Will you fuck me now, Trey? Please?”
“Of course I will, baby.” He was more than happy to give her what she needed.
As Holly pushed to her feet, though, Trey began to be the one feeling impatient, and he scooped her up into his arms, clearly catching her off guard but making her laugh at the same time. Then he carried her back through the open French doors and to the king-size bed that faced a wide glass window. Trey happened t
o know that in the morning, they’d wake up to a spectacular view out that window, and though tonight it only let in the darkness and a glimpse of the moon, who cared since what really mattered would be happening in the bed.
Holly lay on her back, her dress still half off and completely rumpled, watching impatiently as he shed his shirt and then hurried to undo his pants. Yeah, he’d been taking this slow and leisurely up to now, but he couldn’t fight the urgency any longer. “Why don’t you get rid of that dress, fishie?” he told her as he shed his clothes. “It’s pretty and all, but I like what’s underneath it more.”
With a sparkle in her eye, she worked at removing the dress, soon tossing it aside, and by the time he joined her on the bed they were both naked and breathing hard. “Please hurry,” she told him. “I want you in me, now.”
Holly had completely lost control, lost herself, to Trey. All she could think of was how much she wanted him. In a different way than she’d ever wanted any other man. She simply needed their bodies to connect—and she needed their souls to connect just as desperately.
Her pussy ached even as he turned her onto her side, positioning himself behind her. And—oh Lord—she remembered. This was how they’d done it when they were young. Yes, other ways, too, and missionary position for a while in the beginning—but soon they’d discovered they both loved it this particular way and it had become their “usual.”
And as Trey situated his wonderfully large erection at her opening, then plunged it inside, she was reminded exactly why this had been their favorite way to fuck. She’d always felt him deeper that way, especially on that initial entry. Now it jolted her body and forced a sound of pleasure from her throat. And yes, he’d fucked her from behind on the beach, but this particular position—lying down like this—was what brought back those intense recollections. And sure, she’d done it with plenty of other guys this way, too, but…she couldn’t say why, yet with Trey, she truly felt the power of his cock more than with anyone else. And somehow it felt…special, like the ultimate joining of two bodies, and like…well, something she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
As he plunged into her wetness over and over, she found herself peering out the wide window a few feet away, but given the darkness outside, what she actually saw was…a reflection of them, moving together. It turned her on all the more to witness their naked bodies together, writhing and undulating in perfect rhythm. She watched Trey’s hand as it molded to her bare hip, then later closed over her breast, first kneading and then tweaking the nipple between his fingers. She saw the power behind his strokes as their bodies jerked slightly at each deep impact. And then she spied…her own expression, brimming with lust and pleasure…and something else, too, something she just didn’t quite want to let herself put a name to. But she felt it deeply. And she couldn’t find the strength to push it away.
Don’t think. Just don’t think.
Through the still-open French doors the sound of ocean waves echoed upward, and she let herself concentrate on that, and on the glorious sensation of being fucked by her first love, and nothing else.
She wasn’t sure how long they did it. There were moments when they changed positions. At one point, he put her on her hands and knees and pounded into her relentlessly hard. And then, for a while, they lay face to face, him moving in her more deeply and slowly, just like when they’d first made love the summer she’d been eighteen. Eventually, though, he turned her back on her side and re-entered her that way—the very move forcing from her yet another lustful groan of pleasure—and he fucked her hard, hard, hard, driving every thought from her brain until finally he said, “Oh God, I’m gonna come, Holly, I’m gonna come in you,” and then he did. The strokes were so unbelievably powerful that she thought she almost felt his climax as much as he did.
And somewhere in those hazy moments after, she became unerringly aware of a couple of different things.
First, they hadn’t used a condom. That had seemed so important last night, and there had never been a time in her life when she wasn’t judicious about that—yet somehow, now, it had totally slipped her mind. But she wasn’t worried—as they’d talked last night, he’d told her he was always safe and careful, and she believed him. And fortunately, she was on the pill, too.
And second—oh boy, this one was scarier because it was the fact that…she felt attached to him now. More than attached—deeply…joined. Exactly what she supposed he’d wanted when he’d propositioned her earlier tonight. And exactly what she’d been so determined to avoid when this had started.
And yet…it wasn’t a horrible feeling. She didn’t hate herself.
In fact, if she was honest, she felt…happy. Almost…elated.
She felt…alive. Alive in a way she maybe hadn’t experienced since…oh Lord, since she’d left South Beach ten years ago.
Whoa.
She had to stop thinking for a minute, catch her breath.
What on earth are you letting happen here? This is a total betrayal of everything you stand for, a betrayal of everything you wanted when you first saw him yesterday. And oh God, this had only started yesterday? It seemed, already, as if he’d been back in her life for so much longer. It seemed, in a weird way, almost as if he’d never even left.
And yet, again, she just…couldn’t fight it right now. In fact, at the moment it seemed all too easy to simply let herself give up the struggle and just bask in the moment.
And then there was Trey, leaning over her in the bed, letting her feel his warmth, pulling her back into his strong embrace. There were Trey’s eyes, drawing her in, capturing her very senses. There was Trey’s body, making her somehow feel protected and adored, just by virtue of holding her, making her feel…as if she were where she belonged.
“I used to dream of this, Holly,” he told her softly, “back when we were young. I used to dream of getting older together, of having enough money to take you on expensive trips and give you this kind of room, and of making love to you all night long. I never could have imagined, though, that we’d end up here, like this.”
“I…I couldn’t have imagined this, either.”
“And the truth is,” he went on, “I’m not sure I ever completely quit loving you.”
Holly’s heart threatened to beat through her chest. She so wanted to be the hip, cool, aloof chick she’d been with him just a day ago. She so wanted to keep that illusion in the forefront—for both of them. But the real, honest, and even painful truth was…“I don’t think I ever quit loving you, either.”
She pulled in her breath after realizing the words had left her mouth. They felt like blasphemy of the most horrific kind.
But then Trey was kissing her, deeply, passionately, and then the words didn’t feel so awful at all. In fact, the longer he kissed her and the more she let herself stop thinking and simply absorb everything passing between them, the more it began to feel like…everything was okay. And like maybe, just maybe, this was somehow all meant to be.
They didn’t talk much more after that, but they didn’t have to—it was as if that one little confession, on both their parts, had been all that was necessary. Suddenly, as if by magic, they were on the same page here. They wanted the same thing: they wanted…more. Of this. Of each other.
They made love twice more through the night—and Holly couldn’t deny it, it had truly been making love. Though after those particularly pleasant little tussles, they did talk. Or, more specifically, she talked.
She never meant to exactly, and she never made the conscious decision to do so, but before long she heard herself telling him—admitting—the real truth about her career, that she’d let herself down by abandoning her aspirations to be an attorney. She didn’t go on—she didn’t explain that it had anything to do with him—but maybe she just felt close enough to him in this moment that she’d suffered the urge to share…something. Something that was big to her, personal. Something she hadn’t felt comfortable confiding in him up to now.
“It’s n
ever too late,” he’d told her gently.
And she supposed that was true. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she’d started feeling older than her twenty-eight years. But here, now, with Trey, she suddenly felt much younger again, as if so much of life suddenly stretched before her.
“Maybe you’re right,” she whispered in the dark, nestled against him. “Though, for now, I’m just happy enough to have gotten my paralegal training. And as soon as I get back to Vegas, I’ll be ready to start sending out resumes.”
“Or…you could send them out in Miami instead,” he suggested, his voice just as soft as hers. “They need paralegals everywhere, you know.”
And even as what he was really saying hit home and took her breath away, she realized that maybe it didn’t sound like such a bad idea at all. She hadn’t planned on leaving Vegas, but really, what did she have there? In reply, she simply bit her lip, leaned in to kiss him, and with a hint of a smile said, “Guess they do.”
After that, they agreed that they’d talk more over breakfast in the morning, about possibilities, about the idea of seeing more of each other, being together again.
And then she fell asleep in his arms, feeling safer and more content than she had in a very long time.
Chapter Eight
The bright Miami sun rising over the Atlantic came streaming in the big window to wake Trey early. His first impulse was to pull the covers over his eyes to block out the light. But then he remembered—where he was, who he was with. That his life had changed last night, that it had started changing back to what it should have been a long time ago. And that he actually didn’t mind facing the day at all.
So he opened his eyes to find the penthouse suite drenched in morning sunlight, and he glanced to his side to see…hell, next to him lay only rumpled sheets.
South Beach: Hot in the City Page 5
