She blinked up at him. “Sorry. Busy day at work. Sometimes it’s hard to switch off.” And that was a big, fat lie. She was stupidly letting her past mess with the possibility of a happy future. Nolan loved her. He loved the boys, and he demonstrated the depth of his feelings every day, in every interaction. Michael and David were thriving under his attention, and she shouldn’t need his words to rubberstamp the deal when words were like cheap carnival beads. Actions were the gold in this treasure hunt.
“Let’s get you into bed then,” he said, his kindness bringing the sting of tears to her eyes. Not the impression she wanted to give tonight. Crying would raise questions, and she needed to shore her defenses.
Another thought whisked into her mind, one she hadn’t entertained for a long time, and an unwelcome blast from her husband past.
You’re kinky, Yvonne. Admit it. You like trying new things, pushing sexual boundaries. The only time you didn’t disgust me was when you agreed to a threesome with your dance partner. That time you played right into my hands.
“Yvonne.” Nolan shook her lightly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she replied automatically, and it was obvious to both of them she’d told a fib. She pushed out a grumpy sigh, angry at her ex all over again and pissed at herself for letting him spoil her time with Nolan. “The past.”
“What about it?”
“Forget it,” she said. “Nothing important. I’d rather show you how much I missed you today.” She reached for his buttons and unfastened two. Time to deflect his curiosity. She leaped into siren mode, which was what she did best, and dipped her fingers beneath the denim of his shirt. Warm skin. She leaned closer to kiss that skin and masculine soap and the faint whiff of farm wrapped around her senses like her comfortable flannel robe. “I want you.”
“I’m yours.” He sucked her bottom lip, gave her a quick nip. A low moan sounded deep in her chest. It rushed up her throat, shoving aside every misgiving, every hesitant thought. She tugged his shirt and struggled to remove the garment.
Nolan laughed, not even trying to help her search for more skin and farm-fit muscles. Instead, he trailed tiny kisses down her throat, lingered at the juncture of her shoulder and neck until arrows of heat and pleasure darted through her to sink into the bull’s eye. God, she wanted him. Right now.
Busy hands dealt with her clothes while his mouth paid homage to every erogenous zone he revealed. The swish of his tongue tickled her stomach. A puff of warm air down her folds sparked a tightening sensation deep in her womb, and she stirred restlessly, splaying her legs and displaying everything to his gaze.
For a second, thoughts of her husband threatened, her muscles tensing when she recalled his disgust of sexual intimacy with her, his dislike of her open enjoyment.
Yvonne cursed under her breath, angry with herself for letting her husband intrude yet again. Almost defiantly, she lifted her hips in a silent demand for more of Nolan’s touch, and his hum of approval shunted her to a better place. One hand fastened on her hip and held her still while he finally made contact. She sighed in pleasure at the languid, lazy swish of tongue on and around her clit.
“More,” she demanded and barely jumped when the fingers of his other hand roamed to press against her puckered entrance.
“How much more?”
“Everything, Nolan.” As his thumb pressed deeper, an edge of dirty heat knifed her, stealing her breath, stopping her heart for an anxious moment. Need warred with decorum. “I haven’t done this for a long time.”
Nolan lifted his head, his eyes glittering with lust. “Do you want me to stop?”
Yvonne forced a smile, kicked husband memories in their fleshy gut. “Just go slow.”
“I would have anyway,” Nolan said with a quick grin of acceptance. “You went easy on me. Lube?”
“In the drawer,” she said, indicating which one with a jerk of her head. He gave her nub a lick and continued down, teasing her pussy, his stubble rasping the delicate skin of her inner thighs. The spicy tang of arousal filled the air while he drove her higher with his fingers and mouth.
When he finally rose to grab lube, the hot pleasure from his touch made itself felt in sensual pins and needles. Her nipples were hard, distended. Ruby red, and the touch of her hand at her breast arced down to her pussy in a bungee of raw, needy demand.
“Yvonne, that’s so hot. I love watching you, your open sensuality. I like your sense of adventure. It makes loving you fun.”
Eyes she hadn’t remembered closing flew open, opposing adversaries of guilt and pleasure battling it out for supremacy. She gazed at Nolan, tried to register his mood, his thoughts, the reasons and meaning behind his words.
And failed.
Her judgment had warped, leaving her like a boat bobbing on an ocean and not an oar in sight. She could no longer trust her gut.
Nolan frowned.
The silence lengthened until it snapped like a dry piece of pasta.
“My husband thought I was kinky, and not in a good way.” Oh, god. Now she’d done it.
Nolan stared, searching her features for explanations.
She had nothing more to give.
“You don’t talk about him. I figured you’d relegated him to the past, which is fine by me. His stupidity gives me the chance to scoop up you and the boys for myself.”
“I like sex.” Shut up now, Yvonne.
“So do I,” Nolan said with an easy shrug. “What’s not to like? I enjoy the way you take the lead sometimes.” He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I love the things we do together. Sex with you is exciting and fresh.” Nolan stroked her hip as he spoke, his touch soothing the doubt beast but not slaying the monster. When she bit her lip, he leaned over and kissed her, taking her mouth hard. His tongue swept inside and danced against hers, demanding a response.
Swept up by his passion, Yvonne surrendered, her arms creeping around his neck. She rocked against him, trapping the hard length of his cock between their lower bodies.
He groaned against her mouth, and she couldn’t help her spurt of amusement. Nolan jerked away, his stern expression belied by the twinkle in his sex-on-his-mind eyes. “I’m directing matters today.” He pinched one nipple as if to ascertain her attention. “On your hands and knees. You have my permission to play with your clit while I’m preparing you.”
“Yes, sir.” Good plan.
“I like that,” he said, and when she turned over to follow his instruction, he smacked her buttock.
“Hey.”
“That’s for letting your mind go to your ex while we’re getting busy.” The sharp crack of his palm hitting her bottom rang out. “Don’t do it again. We’ll talk afterward. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Yvonne found herself grinning, despite the tingle of heat at her butt.
His hand came down again, hard enough to smart. “Make sure you remember it.”
Nolan shifted his weight. The whurt-whurt told her Nolan was pumping lube from the bottle. Seconds later, his finger pressed against her entrance.
“Ooh.” She attempted to wriggle from his grasp. “You could’ve warmed the lube.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?”
Yvonne sucked in a breath, let it ease out slowly and forced relaxation on her rebellious muscles. Her butt throbbed, her pussy ached and the bore of Nolan’s finger tunneling into her ass completed the trifecta. She inhaled, let the air whisper back out.
“Okay?”
“Better than I remember.”
“That’s because it’s me,” he said, full of smugness.
“Big head.”
“Yes,” he said. “And soon it’s gonna be inside you.”
A snicker burst from her, counteracting the sensation of pressure and the dance toward pain.
“I thought I told you to play with yourself.”
Her clit was engorged, slippery and every nerve ending vibrated. Sweet anticipation. Nolan had more than one finger in her now, the aching bite falling on the good side of the pain barrier.
“Give me a running commentary. Tell me how you feel.”
“Good. I can feel the stretch from your fingers. There’s a bit of pain. Not too bad. When I touch my clit the discomfort backs off.”
“I’m going to get more lube.”
Once again, the chill against her skin made her flinch. Nolan laughed softly and gave her another finger, working her easily. She delved between her legs and alternatively tugged on her nipples. The ache…the need for more grew to desperation levels.
“Nolan.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.”
“I need you inside me.”
“It’s time.” The rip of a condom package, his easy agreement tripped her pulse rate. The grumpy protest of the lube bottle made her catch her breath.
“Ready?”
“Take me. Please, take me.”
He fit his cock to her, and she relaxed, trying to keep her breaths even. Slow. The hard length of his cock pushed inside her, her guardian muscle protesting. Fire swarmed over her, intense bursts of heat. He pulled back, tunneled deeper. The faint sensation of pain twisted through her, a lash of erotic fear before she calmed and remembered to stroke her clit.
Finally, finally, his warm weight draped over her back, and he started to fuck her in earnest. Each stroke pushed her to the slim border between pleasure and pain.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I love the feel of you squeezing my cock. Such a dirty girl. My sexy, dirty girl,” he whispered against her ear. “You feel good. So good. Not gonna last much longer. Stroke yourself again. Make yourself come. I want to feel your ass clenching ’round my dick. Want to come so bad, sweetheart.”
Mesmerized by his voice, she sank into a pleasure zone as she fingered herself. The clawing tension in her pussy increased, the delicate brush of her fingers and the fullness in her ass, pushing her hard. Bright sparks of sensation came slowly at first, a burst of awareness.
Nolan pulled back and stroked smoothly into her. He gave a hushed moan and it ricocheted through her straining body, pushed her harder, faster and the swell took her, hauling her into a maelstrom of pleasure that left her sobbing.
“Nolan.” Her finger kept working her clit while her vagina and ass pulsed hard.
Nolan gave a hoarse groan. He pulled back, sank deep. “Can feel the spasms around my dick. Feels good.” His hips snapped forward in three rapid thrusts and she gasped, her rectum clamping around him hard as he froze. Her clit jumped in another mini climax and a shudder rocked her.
Only the hoarseness of their breathing broke the silence, and for long moments, Nolan rested against her back. He sucked her neck, and she knew it would leave a mark.
She didn’t care what others thought.
Nolan pulled from her, turned her to face him. “I love you, Yvonne. You’re everything to me, and if you think I’m letting you get away, think again. I want to marry you.”
She seized on the first part of his declaration. “You love me?”
“You doubt me?” Nolan sat back, frowned at her. “Back in a sec.”
Yvonne fell forward to sprawl in a boneless heap. Some parts of her body ached while others felt well-used. Nolan loved her. She tested his words for sincerity and ended up hopelessly confused.
Nolan returned, and she heard the snip of the lock. He switched on one of the bedside lamps. “Let me get you cleaned up.”
The warm cloth was blissful, and a sigh emerged as she let him tend her. Task completed, he tossed the cloth aside and climbed into bed. His arms wrapped around her, and he arranged her against his chest. He tipped her chin upward and their gazes connected. “I haven’t said this before, because the words hold power. They mean something to me. I love you, Yvonne, and I want to share my life with you and the boys. Wait.” He placed his fingers over her lips. “I haven’t handled things well between us. I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve learned from them. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
He stared at her in silent expectation.
“I love you too, Nolan.” There, she’d voiced the feelings that struggled for freedom. “But I need to take things slowly. I don’t want to rush and have the boys hurt.”
“I would never hurt your sons.” A wounded expression settled on his features.
“I know that.” She gave a heavy sigh. “I’m not explaining myself well. You say you want to marry me. Would you consider an engagement?”
His eyes narrowed. “How long?”
“Just give me three months.”
“What’s gonna change in three months?” Now he sounded belligerent.
“My husband told me he loved me. He said he intended to spend the rest of his life proving it to me.”
“Don’t try forcing me into your ex’s shoes.”
“I’m not.” Yvonne paused, reordered her mind. “My husband was always telling me my enjoyment of sex wasn’t right, that I needed help. I know there’s nothing wrong with me. I have a healthy sex drive, and I’m not about to apologize for the fact.”
“It makes me a lucky man.”
Yvonne hesitated, her mind darting to previous mistakes. A question trembled at the tip of her tongue, one she’d thought about, considered and reconsidered since the breakup of her marriage.
If you don’t ask you’ll never know.
But she hated the sudden insecurity that made her ask, the way she was tarring Nolan with wounds from her past and testing his commitment to her and the boys. The damage inflicted by her husband had obviously gone deeper than she’d realized, but she had to be sure she didn’t repeat history.
She wanted a man who wanted and needed her.
Just her and no one else.
She cleared her throat and let the words spill out. “What if I asked if we could have a threesome with another man?”
“A ménage a trois?”
“Yeah.” An Irish dancer was doing a jig in her stomach.
“No.” He stared at her, his eyes hot, suddenly untrusting. “No. I won’t share you with another man.”
She stared back, her gaze locked with his. This sounded like a man who didn’t intend to reconsider. Ever. “What if I suggested another woman?”
“No.”
“You haven’t even thought about it.”
“And I don’t intend to either. Other men might be okay with sharing their wives or girlfriends, but not me. I want a woman of my own.” His expression might have been a smirk on another man. Yvonne knew better. Not an ounce of emotion traveled to his eyes. “I’m not good at sharing. Ask Tyler. The only exception would be sharing my life with you. That would be easy.”
“So no women either?”
Nolan grasped her shoulders and shook. “No. You want extra penetration or different sensations, we’ll invest in more toys.”
“My husband suggested a threesome,” Yvonne said. “I thought it’d be fun. Our marriage had been on shaky ground for months, and I figured it was worth a shot. I thought it might bring us closer together.”
“What happened?”
“It turned out my husband had the hots for my dance partner. And it became obvious my dance partner returned the sentiment. I became an unnecessary third in the bed. I—I don’t want that to happen again.”
Nolan bolted upright in the bed, his eyes flashing with temper and shock. “This was a bloody test?”
Chapter Seven
Anger took a chokehold on his throat, thrummed through his veins. She didn’t believe he loved her, and she’d set him a bloody test. But it was her lack of trust—like a knife to his heart—that slashed his outrage most.
“What would have happened if I’d agreed to a threesome?” he sna
rled. “How far would you have let it go?”
The guilt in her face said it all. “I wouldn’t—”
“Ah, just enough rope to hang myself.” Nolan saw his boxer-briefs and pulled them on. His jeans were in a crumpled pile by the bed, and he grabbed those too. He jerked the denim up his legs and snatched his shirt off the floor. The entire time he was dressing Yvonne didn’t say a word. “I couldn’t win, no matter what I did.”
When she still remained silent, he let himself out of her room and left. He stomped to his vehicle and peeled out of the driveway, his foot pressed on the accelerator.
Damn the woman.
Nolan found himself heading toward town and ten minutes later, he screeched into the pub car park. One drink. He’d have one drink. He strode into the pub and stalked up to the bar.
An hour later, the barman cried, “Last orders.”
Nolan looked at his glass and realized he hadn’t drunk more than two mouthfuls of his beer. The amber liquid had lost its white head and appeared flat and unappetizing. He pushed it away and headed for his vehicle.
In his truck, he pressed his forehead against the steering wheel for an instant and squeezed his eyes shut.
Damn the woman.
Why couldn’t she have trusted him?
Yvonne stared at her bedroom door and winced. She’d handled that badly, known she was making a mistake, but like a train wreck, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from asking the question about threesomes, from pushing until she received the necessary reassurance to obliterate every one of her doubt demons.
God, she could still recall the humiliation when she’d climbed out of her marriage bed and her husband and best friend hadn’t even noticed her departure. In the kitchen, back then, she’d poured herself a glass of wine and sat down trying to work out where her marriage had gone so wrong.
It was obvious her husband had felt nothing for her any longer, and she’d wondered if he’d ever loved her. In hindsight, she realized her husband’s mother had seemed more excited about the marriage than her son.
Sighing, Yvonne pulled on her robe and padded out to the kitchen. Wine had done the trick last time. Maybe it would help this time too.
Part-Time Lovers: Clare Chronicles, Book 1 Page 9
