by Lori Foster
He’d savor her nearness and take the rest day by day.
“What about the other guys? Their wives?” She rubbed her fingers over his bristly jaw. “I’m supposed to lie to them?”
Armie knew he had to be firm on this. “They know you stayed with me because of the bank robbery, but they respect you too much to outright ask you. Let them suppose whatever they want, just don’t confirm anything publicly.”
She snorted. “The guys might not ask, but believe me, Cherry is going to grill me until she hears every detail.”
Armie grinned. Cherry was a superstacked doll, and so in love with Denver it was fun to watch. “I still remember telling her how hung Denver is.”
Rissy’s face went red.
“Yeah, you should blush, because I remember how nosy you were about it, too.”
Her smile twitched and she whispered, “I’d heard so many rumors…”
Whispering, too, Armie said, “He’s not here, Stretch. He can’t hear you.”
Laughing, she turned into him, her face tucked near his throat, one of her legs between his. He wanted her bad, but he didn’t feel rushed because it all felt so special.
It was nice, indulging in presex laughter with Rissy. Probably the nicest thing he’d ever experienced.
They’d have all night, so he didn’t need to miss a thing.
He hooked an arm around her, keeping her close. “Denver’s a damn stallion.”
“I know,” she admitted. She tipped her face up to see him. “Cherry brags.”
Enjoying her embarrassment, Armie teased, “Want me to take a picture for you?”
She gasped, Armie laughed, and for a second or two they wrestled.
When they stopped, Armie had her bra undone. “Well, look at that,” he said. “Your bra unhooked.” He tugged the material away.
“Armie!” She crisscrossed her arms and closed her hands over herself.
With one finger, he traced the pale flesh plumped up above her concealing hands. “I love watching a woman touch herself.”
Her eyes went wide. “I’m not!”
“Then move your hands.” He kissed her knuckles. “Let me look.”
Seeming momentarily shy, then determined, her gaze locked with his and she slowly rested her hands at either side of her pillow, palms up.
Armie inhaled deeply. “Beautiful.” Her breasts were round and firm, her nipples a dusky brown, drawn tight, and he wanted her in his mouth. “Tell me you can keep this, what’s between us, private.”
Her eyes went heavy, sexy. “An illicit affair with the notorious Armie Jacobson? Sure, I can do that.”
He started to lean down and she added, “There’s something you need to understand.”
By the second, his need ratcheted up. “Let’s hear it.”
“It can’t be just once.”
“Guaranteed.”
She flattened a hand to his chest, holding him off. “I don’t mean just once tonight. I mean I want tomorrow, too.”
“Count me in.”
Again she held him off, this time with both hands. “I don’t mean to pressure you. I know you have a fight soon—”
“Wouldn’t matter if the fight was tomorrow. I’m done denying myself.”
“Well then, as long as we’re having this illicit affair, it’s just me, no other woman.”
She was so adorable. Like he’d want any other woman with her near? Hell, it felt like he’d been waiting forever for this. “You’re saying you don’t want a threesome?”
“Not unless you’re talking another guy.”
He went blank, then hot with a rush of anger, then…he saw her grin. His damn palms were damp, his heart galloping. Jesus.
“That,” he growled, “might earn you another swat.”
“So we agree that’s out.”
He pretended to think about it. “So no spanking, no threesomes. Tell me then, what are you into?”
“You.” She hooked her arms around his neck. “I’m into you, Armie.”
For some reason, that spooked him a little. He was known for outrageous sex. Wicked, kinky, sometimes taboo sex. Women chased him down for it. For the sex, not necessarily for him.
Didn’t bother him; he always aimed to please.
More than any other, he wanted to please Merissa.
“You can have me.” He kissed her again, this time not so sweetly. She opened for his tongue, teased her own against his, pressed closer and gave a soft moan. Against her lips, he whispered, “Don’t be shy, honey. Tell me what you like.”
Eyes heavy-lidded, lips swollen, she nodded, then looked around the bedroom. Tipping her head back, she let her gaze zero in on the Velcro tie at the headboard post. “I guess, if you really want, you could tie me up?”
He frowned over how she’d put that, like a question instead of a statement. “You’d like that?” He sure as hell didn’t want to do anything to her she didn’t like.
She nodded at the post where the tie was fastened. “I’m guessing you do, right? You use that to fasten around a woman’s wrist?”
Smiling, he pressed closer to her. “These,” he said, reaching up to the middle post to flip the double-hanging Velcro cuffs, “are for her hands.”
Confusion beetled her brows. She studied the soft ties in the middle of the headboard, then the other ties at the outside posts. “So then those…?”
“Are for her ankles.”
Her eyes went comically wide. She rounded on him. “No,” she whispered.
Armie took great pleasure in saying, “Yeah. It leaves her vulnerable, as you can imagine, and has the added bonus of giving me a lot to look at.”
“I’m not into that, either!”
She was so damn funny, he couldn’t resist teasing her. “Oh, I dunno, Stretch.” He gathered both her wrists into one hand and held them over her head, then stroked down her side to her hip, and into the back of those tiny lace panties. “You’d look awfully sweet spread-eagle—”
She squirmed, then gasped when his fingers brushed along her cleft. “Ain’t happening, Armie!”
“Why not? You brought it up.” He held her secure when she tried to twist away. Kissing her jaw, her ear, he whispered, “I love your ass.”
“You can love it untied!”
He laughed. “Okay, don’t get riled. We’ll put that on the back burner for now.”
She settled down with a few deep breaths. After searching his face, she said, “I have an idea.”
“Yeah?” He looked at her breasts and was amazed at his own restraint. “Let’s hear it.”
“I think it’s pretty different, at least for you.”
His cock swelled more. “Okay.”
She tugged at her hands so he released her, then she again pushed him to his back. Crawling half over him, her hands at either side of his face, she smiled. “Tonight, how about you tell me what you like, and I’ll take it from there.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
MERISSA LIKED THE stunned look on Armie’s face. Wasn’t often she could take him off guard.
She watched him gather his wits, saw his eyes narrow, and then he reached for her breasts. “I’ll like making you come.”
“I’m sure I’ll like that, too.” She didn’t dissuade him from touching her. Heck no. She’d craved his touch for so long she couldn’t deny him now even if she wanted to. “But do you like this? Touching me?”
Voice gravelly and deep, he said, “I love touching you.”
“I think you’d like me touching you, also. Right?”
He went still. “Yeah.”
“Could we get naked first?”
His chest expanded. His gaze burned over her. “Yeah. Naked is good.”
Merissa usually felt a little insecure about her figure. She was long and lean, lacking lush curves, especially on top. But the way Armie looked at her, with so much palpable lust, she knew he liked what he saw and that made her feel sexy. She moved off the bed, smiled at him and skimmed her panties down.
Slowly, he sat up, his gaze consuming her. In a near growl, he murmured, “Come here.”
She walked over to him—but when he reached for her, she took his hands and urged him to his feet.
“I want to see you, too, Armie.” She didn’t wait for him to remove the boxers. She did it for him, stepping close and coasting her hands over his broad chest and his hard back, and then down until she had both hands over his muscled tush.
Sinking to her knees, she took the boxers down.
Armie breathed harder.
Could a man be more stunning? His messy hair, beard scruff and tattoos added an edge to his gorgeously honed body. Everywhere she looked, everywhere she touched, he was rock solid. Sleek, taut skin on his shoulders and biceps led to sparse chest hair over his chiseled pecs, then down to dance over the ridges of his carved abdomen. With his feet stationed apart, she admired his strong, hairy calves and his thick thighs.
Finally she looked at his erection; heat expanded, spreading out to her limbs and making her tingle all over.
“I love your body, Armie. I love looking at you and feeling free to touch you.” She lightly dragged her hands up the front of his thighs, then asked again, “What do you like most?”
“You, naked and on your knees in front of me, has to be pretty damned close.”
“Good.” She brought her hands up the insides of his thighs. “I can work with that.”
“You don’t have to work, honey.” He sucked in air when she curled her hand around his straining erection. “Believe me, I want you enough already.”
She stroked him slowly and reveled in his harsh groan. “For so long, you’ve rejected me.”
“You know why.” His hand petted over her head until his fingers tangled in her hair. “Truth is, I’ve wanted you since you were sixteen years old.”
Shocked, Merissa looked up at him.
“That surprises you?” His face looked hard, his eyes dark as he struggled for composure. “I was twenty—too old to be perving on you like I did. But you were so damned sweet, so hot. You’d smile at me and all I could think about was getting under your skirt.”
“You hid it well.” She went back to stroking, but brought up her other hand to fondle his testicles.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes momentarily closing before he opened them again to stare at her with blatant hunger. “You’re my best friend’s lil sister. Your family was always special, to the neighborhood and to everyone who knew the Colters. I was just the guy with the drunk for a dad and the mom who ran off and—”
Merissa pressed a kiss to the underside of his erection, stopping his awful speech. She didn’t want to hear him run himself down. To her, he was…everything. Protective and brave and funny. Armie was honor, reliability and the best of friends whenever someone needed him.
“You smell so good,” she whispered, brushing her nose along his length, then licking back to the head, over the tip where she stole a drop of precum.
Armie said nothing, but he now had both hands in her hair, and she felt him shaking. She looked up and found him watching the mirror. She’d forgotten all about it, but as she glanced that way, too, she saw what he saw; their bodies in profile, his big and strong, his muscles clenched in arousal while she knelt before him, her hair held in his fisted hands like reins.
Still he said nothing, but in his face she saw naked emotion. In his stance—feet apart and hips forward, shoulders braced—she saw pure, piercing lust.
She loved having him like this. She loved his pleasure.
She’d loved him—since she was sixteen years old.
Opening her mouth, she drew him in, taking him as deep as she could.
“Rissy,” he whispered, agonized.
She felt him growing taut, tasted more of him, and knew he was close—so fast. She’d expected him to last longer, but the fact that he didn’t, that maybe he couldn’t, thrilled her.
Each time she took his length, she sucked, and as she withdrew, she worked her tongue over him.
His powerful legs stiffened. He murmured low words, encouraging, cursing, praying a little…
Cupping one hand at the back of her neck, he drew her closer, and gave a harsh groan as he released.
Merissa stayed with him, her own heart racing, her body buzzing in excited awareness. When at last he relaxed again, his hands stroking her head, she eased back and looked up at him.
He breathed heavily, his shoulders loose, his expression both quizzical and poignant, somehow shaken and maybe even pained. He released one more big breath, then whispered, “Now you.”
With ridiculous ease he caught her under her arms and lifted her up and onto the bed, parting her legs as he came down over her.
His weight pressing her into the bed was a special delight, also the way he put hot, damp kisses on her shoulder, her neck, along her jaw. His mouth touched hers as he whispered, “When you start the night like that, it’s tough to beat.”
She smiled, pleased that he was pleased.
Then he added, “But let me try.”
*
SURROUNDED IN SENSATION, Armie struggled to find his usual finesse during sex. You’d think something he’d done so often, so many different ways, should be routine.
Not so, not with Rissy. The subtle scent of her hair and skin, the feel of her tight body beneath his, the touch of her small hands and, most of all, the emotion she gave him, all conspired to leave him nearly sick with need. The moment was fresh and new, incredibly hot, but also indescribably sweet, and it shook him.
I want you.
An invisible fist squeezed his heart, making him desperate to ease the restriction with her touch. With her taste. With the sounds of her release.
He kissed her, meaning for it to be sensual, an act of foreplay.
Damn if that didn’t turn near desperate, too. It seemed he’d been craving her for a lifetime, with familiar fantasies that played and replayed in his mind.
But the reality was far different from anything he’d expected. She was different.
Better, when he hadn’t known that was possible.
He moved down to her breasts, molding the small mounds in his hands, loving her delicate curves, and loving even more her faint gasps and whimpers as he licked her nipples, then drew one in, sucking gently. He could have done that for an hour, just relishing the intimacy as he learned her body, the feel of her, the taste of her, touching her in ways he found she liked, and ways she shied away from.
He always paid close attention to a woman’s reactions, but now it wasn’t a deliberate move to enhance the sex. It was because this was Rissy, and what she liked fascinated him.
He loved witnessing her building need.
“Armie,” she whispered, her back arching, one leg wrapping over his.
He switched to the other breast, this time not as gently. Her hips rocked against him; he was hard again, throbbing, hurting for relief.
Leaving each nipple ripe and wet, he put openmouthed love bites down her body, occasionally sucking to mark her, licking in certain spots, nuzzling in others.
Coming up to his knees between her long legs, he opened her thighs. He hadn’t lied about enjoying the sight of a woman, most especially this woman. Her sex looked very pink and slick against the dark curls of her pubic hair. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She choked. “Armie.”
His fingers sank into her pale inner thighs and he used his thumbs to part her lips. She was wet, glistening, her clitoris swollen with need. On a groan, he leaned down and licked over her, then in her, gathering her sweetness, inhaling the heated aroma of her arousal. He loved eating Rissy, feeling the tension grow in her lithe body, how she shifted and moaned and whispered words of entreaty.
Her cries went higher, thinner, mixing with short moans and gasps. One hand locked tight into his hair, the other fisted in the sheets. “Armie…” she breathed, then more frantically, “Armie.”
He stayed with her, knowing she was close, pushing her, and she came wi
th a trembling sob that went on and on. Even after she sank boneless back to the bed, he continued to lazily lick and taste her. She flinched. He knew he should stop, but this was Rissy, a fantasy come to life. He pressed his face to her, locked his arms around her thighs.
He didn’t want to let the moment go.
“Armie,” she whispered. “Please. Come up here to me.”
His heavy heart beat like a bass drum. Sentiment tried to well up, but Rissy tugged at his ear.
“Armie,” she pleaded. “I want to feel you inside me.”
God, he wanted that, too. To be a part of her, to take everything from her, at least everything physical.
Taking his time, he nibbled his way back up her body. Her skin was now dewy, her scent intensified and twice as rousing.
When he reached her mouth, she smiled and said, “That was pretty amazing.”
“Yeah.” He kissed her neck to keep from letting her blue eyes consume him.
“I see you’re not surprised,” she teased. “But it was a revelation for me.”
“I love eating you, Rissy.”
She hugged him tight. “I liked going down on you.”
His arms constricted around her. He wanted her to be his, but he had no right to expect that. Hadn’t he already told her that no one could know about them?
Hating that thought, he levered up and reached to the nightstand to snag a condom. Once he had it, he fell to his back and tore it open with his teeth.
“Already?” she asked, sounding a little worried.
“Yeah.” He seemed to be the master of one-word answers tonight. With haste, he rolled it on and braced himself over her again. Beautiful. Her feathery lashes lowered and she bit her bottom lip. Aroused color clung to her cheekbones. Armie kissed her, at first barely there, then pressing firmer, touching his tongue to her soft lips, slowly licking in until they were involved in a hot, wet mating of the mouths.
When her arms crept up around his neck, he kneed her legs farther apart and wedged one hand down between their bodies.
So slippery, soft and ready. He slicked his fingertips over her, parting her, spreading her wetness, then pushed two fingers into her.
She freed her mouth from his and put her head back. “Ah… God.”
