Love Block (The Love Lock Duet Book 1)

by S. M. West

  His eyes flick to my chest and down to my legs before travelling back up again.

  “Do you have a shirt you can put on and pants?”

  “Pants? It’s like a hot soup outside.” I start for the stairs. “Nothing is clean. I’ll have to do laundry tomorrow. What about your clothes?”

  “Mine?” He crunches his brow in adorable confusion. “They’ll be huge on you.”

  “Let me see what I have to work with.”

  “Go for it.” He stretches his hand out in a have-at-it gesture but doesn’t follow me.

  Drew’s room is big and sparse, and I skim the few pieces of clothing hanging in his closet. Nothing sparks an idea. Then I spy an opened bag with shirts and shorts spilling onto the floor in the corner.

  Inside the bag, I find a white linen and a denim button-down shirt; both are too big for me, but either could pass as a shirt dress if I use my belt.

  They are both wrinkled, but not too bad. Going with the denim, I dress, throw on mascara, and braid my hair to one side.

  Drew’s waiting by the front door and his eyes roam my body from head to toe. Under his hooded gaze, my nipples harden as if he can see beneath his shirt, and I’m pretty sure my panties are wet.

  His dark, sensual expression morphs into displeasure the longer he stares, and the warm fuzzy feeling inside my stomach starts to ache like I’ve been kicked in the gut. I think I look pretty good and did the best I could with the limited wardrobe options.

  He releases a long, pained groan and bites the knuckles of his clenched fist.

  “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

  11

  Drew

  What the hell was I thinking to suggest going out? Oh yeah, because if I didn’t, I’d be screwing her brains out by now.

  The image of Pippa making herself come with my name on her lips is emblazoned in my mind. Her nipples tight, poking through her thin tank, and her long toned legs spread wide with her hand touching herself like I wish I could. I’m going to hell, and I don’t give a damn.

  We’re at the Boathouse, again, and for a Tuesday night, it’s busy. We enter, and every man in sight stops what they were doing to stare at Pippa. She’s sinful, and I want her to be mine.

  My shirt falls an inch above her knee, and the excess fabric is expertly folded under a thin brown belt, somehow managing to show off her shapely figure. She’s rolled the sleeves and left three front buttons undone, giving a hint of cleavage.

  We weave through the crowd, and I’m pissed at the hungry stares aimed her way. Why’d I think going out would be easier than being alone with her?

  I’m screwed either way.

  “Wow, I’m surprised at how busy this place is.” She taps her fingers on the table to the rhythm of the song.

  “Yeah, cottage season has begun.” Summer is the busiest and when the local businesses make most, if not all, of their coin for the year. “What do you want to drink?”

  “Cranberry and vodka, please.”

  I’m stuck on the way her sexy pink lips move with each word. The tip of her tongue darts out, and my dick hardens, straining against my zipper.

  I hesitate to leave her alone, sensing the wolves circling. My presence is keeping them at bay, but the second I go, all bets are off. I want to mark her as mine, have my scent on her to ward off any advances from these losers.

  The thought of another guy approaching her as if he has a chance makes my blood boil.

  Sure enough, on my way back, I spot two guys at our table flirting with Pippa. She tips her head back, and her raspy, sexy laugh pulls at my gut.

  “What’s so funny?” I say in a deep, booming voice, setting our drinks down.

  Her eyes flare and brows crinkle, not knowing how to take my domineering tone.

  “Nothing. These guys wanted me to join them, but I said no.” Her calculated teasing has the men teetering on edge, uncertain if she’s looking to start something or joking. She’s all fun.

  “Lucky for me.” I wink, playing along.

  “Hey, we didn’t mean—” one guy starts nervously, but she cuts him off.

  “No, lucky me. I told them I’m right where I want to be.”

  We share a blistering gaze, obliterating the guys and our surroundings. Flashes of her fingers sunken into her tiny mint-green panties come to mind. I fucking wanted to lick her fingers clean. Taste her. Then use my fingers on her. Touch her hot, engorged flesh. Feel her slick arousal on my skin.

  One of the guys release a shaky chuckle, unsure what’s going on but wanting to leave.

  “Night, guys.” He gently raps his knuckles on the table top and flees with his friend.

  We laugh and easily forget them, spending the evening eating, drinking, and surprisingly, dancing. Our bodies press together, her head on my shoulder, and we sway to the sultry voice of Margo Timmins singing the country rock lyrics of “Sweet Jane.”

  “You ready to go?” I bend to whisper in her ear, and she trembles.

  “Sure.” She lifts her head, her eyes pinning me. “But not until we talk—”

  “You were fucking hot,” I rush to say. She’s all I’ve thought about all night. In her teeny-tiny tank and panties. “Watching you come on my command was fucking agony and ecstasy.”

  I don’t share with her how I almost blew my load. I still could just thinking about her. Instead, my lips graze the shell of her ear, and she shivers again, so responsive to my touch.

  Her fingers dig into my shoulders as if she may topple over without me and I plant an open-mouthed kiss on her long, delicious neck. She moans, wrapping her arms around me.

  “Drew.” My name slips from her mouth, breathy and reverent, and I’m thankful we’re close or else I wouldn’t have heard her above the music and noise.

  She pulls back slightly, taking my face in her hands and pushing onto her toes. Her sweet lips brush mine—sugar and spice—and before I can react and take more, her soft, wet kisses trail the underside of my jaw and down my neck.

  Her hot tongue flicks at my heated skin and just as quickly, her mouth is gone and she’s sliding back onto her heels.

  My thumb and forefinger pinch the tip of her chin, and the fingers of my other hand curl into the flesh of her hip, making sure she can’t get too far.

  “Drew, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like me in your arms. Kissing you.” There’s a glimmer of a smile in her tone, matching the mischievous sparkle in her gaze.

  I lower my forehead to hers, our lips almost touching, and her breath hitches. I can almost taste her need.

  “You’d be right. I’ve got you where I want you.” My lips crash onto hers in a bruising kiss. It’s much too hurried and hard, but I’m on the edge of insanity.

  Images of Pippa pleasuring herself and of me rubbing one out in the cold shower afterward hit me, one wave after the other and I need her alone.

  “Let’s get out of here.” I drape my arm over her shoulders, and we leave.

  The car ride to the cottage is quiet and both interminably long and lightning quick. Our silence isn’t fraught with uncertainty. In fact, it’s the opposite. We both know what this is, and we both want it.

  I take the stairs two at a time, willing myself to slow down, get a grip. By the time we reach my room, I’m more focused, less frantic, but my dick is no less hard.

  My heart thunders like a racehorse as my eyes sweep over the beauty of Pippa, one of my closest friends and the hottest woman I’ve ever seen.

  Sleeping with her has the potential to destroy what we have, what our families have, and my friendship with her brother, but none of that is enough to stop us. We want each other, unable to resist the burning ache we have for one another.

  She removes the shirt and her lacy bra. I’d fantasized about her tits and what they’d look like countless times and only had a glimpse in the water, but my imagination pales in comparison to the full, creamy mounds with the rosy pink nipples before me.

  I want to put my mouth on her
. To suck and taste her everywhere. I’m rock hard and throbbing for release. But not yet.

  “Fuck, you’re—”

  She kisses me senseless, her arms wrapping around my neck and her soft, slight body rubbing against me. She breaks away, but only long enough to pull my shirt over my head, her eyes hungry for me.

  “Drew, I need you. I want you.”

  Placing her gently on the bed, I hover above, taking her mouth again, and our tongues tangle and explore. I squeeze one breast, my fingers tweaking her stiffened peak. She arches her back, releasing an impatient moan that sends tremors down my spine and straight into my balls.

  I grin against her mouth, sinking my teeth into her lower lip, and my tongue teases the edge of her upper lip, leaving a trail on my way down her face, I pepper kisses along her jaw. Once at the juncture of her neck and collarbone, I greedily suck the soft, warm skin, and she whimpers, rocking against me.

  Her hands roam my chest, travelling toward my waist where her fingers fumble for the button on my jeans.

  “Not yet,” I say. “I need to see you. To taste you first.”

  I slowly peel off her panties, soaking in the sensation of her silky skin against my fingertips, and push her legs apart. Her pussy is perfect. The same pretty shade of pink as her nipples. She truly is something to look at.

  Her eyes flare in response to my hunger, and she opens her legs wider. Instead of shoving my face in between her legs, which I want—soon—I nuzzle her perky tits, my stubble scraping her tender flesh, and lick at her nipples, kissing and playing with her tits. She writhes underneath me and whimpers, clutching at my body.

  “Drew, please.”

  Because I aim to please, I slide down, my hands gripping her thighs, my tongue licking her from opening to clit. Her ass jolts off the bed, and I hold her in place, hand on her stomach, and bury my face in her pussy.

  Her taste explodes on my tongue. Decadent with the right balance of bitter and sweet. I can’t get enough, and every languid lick elicits a breathy sound from her sweet mouth.

  I suck on her clit, pushing one finger inside, and her legs tremble, her inner muscles clamping around my digit. Fuck, she’s tight.

  “Ahhh, Drew. Yes, I’m so close—”

  Her body tightens and stills, her release ripping through her body. Her core spasms and vibrates through my lips, down my throat into my chest. Shuddering, her hands grip my head still between her thighs and she holds me there.

  Don’t worry, baby, I’m not going anywhere.

  I sprinkle soft kisses over her luscious pussy, the top of her mons, and just below her belly button.

  “Oh my God, that was…” She giggles, breathless.

  She’s fucking exquisite. Sexy as hell lying there with her cheeks flushed, eyes heavy-lidded with arousal, and her fair hair mussed in that just-fucked way.

  Pushing to sit, she hooks her fingers into my waistband and unzips me, her long, dainty fingers grasping my steel-hard cock. The tip is swollen and weeping with need. She bends and licks my crown, and my legs wobble.

  “Fuck.”

  “God, I want you inside of me.” Her voice is choppy, as if she’s been running a marathon, and she licks her lips, inflamed from my kisses.

  She strokes up and down with one hand, cupping my balls with the other. My muscles coil and tighten as her tempo increases. As much as it kills me, I step from her grasp, and her eyes widen, but not in a shocked way, rather coy, giving me a knowing smile.

  I open the side table and grab a condom, thankful I always come prepared. Scouts finally paid off.

  “No, I don’t want anything between us.” Her eyes shine. “I’m on the pill and clean. I have to get tested for my job, and I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

  I study her, not uncertain about going bare, but more attempting to gain control of my emotions. It’s all over her face, everything I am feeling, have wanted. The lust, the need, the want, the love—the fear.

  “I’ve never had sex without a condom,” Pippa rushes to add, taking my silence as a bad thing, as if I might walk away or change my mind.

  “Me neither,” I say, reassuring her. “I’m clean too.”

  Needing to feel her again, be close, my mouth covers hers and she lies back, my body hovering over hers.

  Everything spins, and it’s too late to go back. I’m lost in her. Desperate never to be found.

  12

  Pippa

  He lowers his body over mine, one hand on my waist and the other guiding himself to my entrance. Rubbing his cock against my wetness, he coats his shaft before sliding inside in one agonizingly slow stroke. At the hilt, he stops, and his pulsing cock stretches my inner muscles.

  “Oh fuck,” he says through clenched teeth, holding steady, letting me adjust to his size. “You okay?” He studies my face, looking for signs of distress.

  “I’ve never been better.” I smirk, and he laughs, sending a vibration through my body.

  He captures my lips, our tongues circling while he draws out and drives in, causing a trembling burst to race up my spine, spread through my chest, and harden my nipples. Deep, hard thrusts. Everything about us grows hotter, more frenzied as we chase our climax together.

  “Pippa, baby, you feel fucking magnificent.” His words make me wetter.

  He takes my mouth again, and I drown in him and the way his tongue manipulates mine. Our kiss is frantic, passionate and reckless. Tiny beads of sweat bubbling on his upper lip flood my mouth with salty, savoury flavors.

  His taste and his lips overrule my burning ache for something I can’t quite grasp. I’ve never felt a connection like this before. My chest burns and swells with something bigger than me, than us. And by the way his gaze slides over my face, tender and worshipful, there’s no doubt he feels it too.

  My chest heaves, my hands shake, and my moans become cries with each of his hard, deep plunges. So deep. As deep as he can go, hitting a spot I never knew existed, he slowly rotates his hips. I swear he’s tormenting me. Bringing me to within a breath of my release before backing off.

  I meet his eyes; their twinkle confirms my thoughts, and a husky laugh rumbles from his chest.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” I’m unable to contain my silly grin.

  “I sure am. You?” he teases, pinching a nipple before sliding a hand between us, down to flick my clit.

  I cry out, my eyes widening, and as if a switch has been flipped, the sex is now more intense. High octane. Hard and dirty. I wrap my legs around his trim waist, and the new angle means he hits not only the spot on the inside but also my clit with each stroke.

  My orgasm slams into me like a freight train, and I’m gasping for breath, dizzy with pleasure. Drew is right behind me, and we cling to each other, riding out our high.

  Afterward, we lay wrapped together, and he rolls so he’s sprawled on his back with me resting on top.

  “That was…” I mumble into his chest, my lips grazing his hot, slick body.

  He barely releases a “Hmmm?”

  “The best sex ever.”

  His easygoing laughter blooms within me. He untangles himself, goes to the washroom, returns with a warm washcloth, and cleans me up. If I wasn’t already in love with this man, I would be now.

  I force myself from the warmth of the bed, and he grabs my waist, planting a sweet kiss on the top of my head.

  “Where are you going?”

  I’m so happy, I want to pinch myself to make sure this isn’t a dream.

  “I’m going to get water and strawberries.” I reluctantly pull away and pick up the shirt off the floor. “Do you want anything?”

  “I’ll have some of yours.” His sexy smile causes my lady parts to perk up, ready for round two.

  I slip the shirt over my body, and he groans. “We should have a no-clothes rule.”

  “Really?” I arch a brow. “And what about safety?”

  “Safety? What are you talking about?”

  “We’re doing renovations.
It isn’t exactly safe to be hammering in the nude.” My tone is low and seductive, and his eyes darken with molten desire at my double entendre.

  “Oh baby, that’s the point. How else do you hammer?” Absurdly adorable dimples pop on either side of his mouth, making his handsome face more delectable, and my insides melt even more if that’s even possible. We both laugh, high on sex and each other. I never want this feeling to end.

  “Hurry back, I’m not done with you.”

  “I hope not!” I reply, already halfway down the stairs, beaming from ear to ear.

  I’m woken by soft wet kisses along my collarbone, licks and nips between the valley of my breasts; a glow heats my cheeks, but it’s nowhere near the inferno building inside me. I’m dreaming of Drew and the hot as hell sex we had several times last night.

  His hands roam my body, pleasing me, and the sensation of his fingers gliding through my slick folds and circling my most sensitive spot feels glorious… and so real. I arch my back and purr. Damn, yes, I purr like a kitten utterly satisfied.

  A firm, wet tip nudges my entrance, slowly, inch by inch, breaching my sex, and my core clamps down on the long, pulsing erection. Shit, this can’t be a dream. It’s too solid, too big, and too divine to be my imagination.

  My eyes fly open, and Drew looms above me, his chiseled chest inches from mine and his sexy grin on full wattage.

  “So goddamn tight.” He grunts. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  “Morning,” I say, being filled with each slow, lazy stroke of him.

  A pleasurable moan slips past my lips, and my fingers sink into the taut muscles of his waist. My thumbs glide over the defined ridges of his V and I hang on to him while he fucks the ever-living shit out of me.

  I’m delightfully limp and happy once I’ve had multiple orgasms and he has also come. We lie there for a bit before eventually getting up to shower together.

  Once clean, I coax him into a run, and after our workout, we shower again, this time alone, otherwise we’d not be getting much done today.