Decidedly Off Limits

by Stina Lindenblatt

  And then a few more times for good luck.

  Trent threaded his fingers with mine and led me to his apartment. The door had barely closed behind us and our shoes kicked off before I was pressed against it. My brain attempted to remind my body that we should leave now, so I could experiment with my camera before bedtime. My body shushed it, saying, “Not now. We’re busy.”

  Taking my reaction as a good sign, Trent walked backwards, his mouth still attached to mine, my arms around his neck.

  He bumped into something and stopped moving—and I crashed into him.

  I pulled away slightly to see what had happened. He’d misgauged where the door was and had walked into the doorframe.

  “Oops.” I giggled, removing my hands from around his neck, and stepped past him into the room.

  Trent followed and closed the door behind him as I walked to the bed. I stood there, waiting for him to join me. He still had his suit on, along with his I-knew-I-would-win smile.

  Touché.

  He brushed my hair back, exposing my neck. For a heartbeat his lips explored the skin there, gently caressing it. I dropped my head to the side, purely on instinct, purely because it felt so good. His tongue and then his teeth joined the exploration.

  Heat flickered throughout my body, starting from where his mouth was and spreading to my core. Moaning, I leaned back against him and placed my hands on the side of his strong, solid thighs. I slowly traced my fingertips against the soft wool of his black slacks, moving them to gently cup him.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  I wanted to feel more of him—to feel his skin.

  Preferably against mine.

  His arms wrapped around me. Even his suit jacket felt soft against my skin. I swiveled around and my gaze settled on his full, begging-to-be-kissed lips. For several seconds, neither of us moved, other than the shallow synchronized rising and lowering of our ribs.

  I peeled his jacket away from his shoulders, my fingertips skimming the even softer fabric of his white dress shirt. Once the fabric was free of his body, I carefully draped the jacket on the armrest of the black leather armchair.

  With trembling fingers, I unbuttoned his shirt. Trent stood still, arms at his sides, allowing me to do whatever I wanted.

  Once the final button was released, I took a moment to appreciate the fine sculpturing of his abs. Every ripple and every muscle was perfect—like a sunset at the end of the day, with all its color nuances.

  I placed my palms flat against his stomach. I didn’t think I would ever get tired of touching him. It was like eating the finest chocolate truffles. One was never enough.

  I trailed my fingertips along the smooth hardness of his chest, and slipped my hands under his shirt, nudging the fabric away from his body. I continued sliding it past his shoulders and down his arms, until the shirt was bunched around his wrists.

  Trent removed it, practically ripping it off in his haste. He tossed it onto the chair, and the corner of his mouth tugged to one side in my favorite sexy grin.

  So not to be outdone by me, he removed my knit top, his fingertips grazing my heated skin. Unlike mine, his fingers didn’t tremble. I guess that was the perk of being a player at one point. Sex didn’t make him nervous. The only emotion he was experiencing, if his dark-green eyes were any indication, was lust. Pure. Hot. Lust.

  Next off were my bra, jeans, and panties. They too joined the happy pile of clothing on the chair. He palmed my full breasts, and his touch alone almost had me coming, almost had me dropping to my knees.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, inadvertently pushing my breasts into his palms. He squeezed them then pinched my nipples. And holy-of-all-things-amazing, I thought I’d just died.

  While his thumbs continued teasing my nipples, I unzipped his pants and slipped my hand into the opening. My palm met his cock and the thick length jerked in my hand, accompanied by Trent’s moan. And yes, it did make me feel powerful. Just one touch—and he started to unravel.

  His mouth was on mine again, proving once more that he was the world’s best kisser. Don’t believe me? That’s okay. I wasn’t going to let you test-drive him anyway.

  Eager to see all of him, I removed my hand and slid his pants and his boxers down his legs, until he was able kick them aside with one swift movement. His cock jutted out, heavy, strong, proud—the swollen tip glistening with a drop of desire.

  A different urge whispered for me to kneel before him. I dropped to my knees and palmed his long, thick length. Even in my fantasies it had been nothing like this.

  “Shit, Kelsey. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

  I grinned at him. “I think I have a good idea what I’m doing to you.…And just so you know, my ex wasn’t interested in me going down on him. I’m not sure what I’m doing here.”

  Trent stared at me, his expression incredulous. “Are you fucking kidding me? All I’ve dreamt about since last night and this morning is what it would feel like to watch you take me into that sweet mouth of yours. And what it would feel like to have your gorgeous lips moving against my cock.”

  I swear a whimper tumbled from my mouth at his words. His dirty talk had this amazing ability to leave me all shades of turned on.

  Or rather, more turned on than I already had been.

  “Well, since you put it that way…” I slipped my lips over the broad head and swirled my tongue against the tip, tasting his male saltiness. I kept my gaze on his face, curious about his reaction.

  His hooded eyes locked on my lips. The erotic, intimate moment and the way he looked at me caused wetness to flood between my legs. Never before had sex been this hot—this naughty.

  I could seriously become addicted to this.

  Correction, sex for the fourth time in twenty-four hours screamed: Hi, my name is Kelsey Quade and I’m addicted to sex. With Trent.

  Oh, well. I’d deal with the consequences later. Maybe there was a support group I could join, once whatever this was between us was over.

  While I sucked and flicked my tongue against the super-sensitive part below the head, he groaned again, leaving me even more heated than before. Thank you, erotic romances, for teaching me how to please a man in bed. And if Trent wasn’t so busy trying not to melt on the spot, I was positive he would’ve also wanted to convey his thanks.

  I gripped the base of his cock and moved my palm up and down his length. He enjoyed this too, apparently. With my free hand, I cupped his balls and lightly squeezed them.

  “I’m going to come soon, Kels.”

  I grinned up at him. “That’s generally the point.”

  My mouth slipped over his swollen tip again. He threaded his fingers in my hair, but instead of pushing my head so that more of his cock was in my mouth, he gently yanked on my hair.

  A mix of pleasure and pain shot through my scalp, and I moaned my appreciation.

  Just as I thought Trent was going to come in my mouth, he pulled away and tugged me to my feet.

  He turned me around so my butt was pressed against his cock. His hand slipped around my hip, down the front of my thigh, then to a spot that made my clit get excited.

  His fingers moved easily along my slick folds. “Bend over,” he murmured in my ear, his breath heated against my skin, “and put your hands on the bed.”

  As if I wasn’t damp enough, more wetness rushed between my legs, which were quickly resembling cooked spaghetti. At this rate, I wouldn’t be able to drive home. I wouldn’t even be able to walk to his bedroom door.

  I was done for.

  I did as I was told, bracing my forearms against his bed. I expected Trent to enter me from behind. He didn’t. Instead, two fingers slipped inside me and his thumb rubbed against one very happy part of me. If it could’ve broken into cheer, it would have.

  He pumped and swirled his fingers inside me. Just as I was close to coming, thanks to those magical digits, he removed his fingers, slipped on a condom, and entered me.

  It didn’t take much more on
his part (or mine) before we both came, hard, mere moments apart. I almost felt sorry for his neighbors.

  Almost.

  28

  Trent

  “What’s the child’s name?” the receptionist in the physical therapy clinic at the children’s hospital asked me. In the background, a child’s giggles broke through the reception room chatter.

  The pretty blonde behind the desk was about my age, so I turned on the charm and smiled at her. “I don’t exactly have an appointment. I’m a friend of Kelsey Quade’s. Is there a chance I can talk to her for a few moments?” I flashed her another smile, the same one that usually got me what I wanted when it came to women.

  Except with Erin. She always saw right through it.

  The blonde smiled back at me. “She’s currently with some patients. What is your name?”

  I told her and waited while she called Kelsey.

  Once she was finished with the call, ending with an “I’ll do that,” she hung up the phone. “Go down the hallway.” She pointed in the direction I needed to go. “You want room PT4.”

  I thanked her, and a minute later entered what looked like a small gym, with kid-sized equipment on the floor along the mirrored wall. In the center, Kelsey faced two six-year-old girls, all three standing like flamingos. One girl had curly red hair, the other a dark braid down her back.

  Kelsey waved me over. The two girls peered curiously at me in the mirror.

  “Chloe and Lindsay, this is my friend Trent,” Kelsey said, gesturing to each girl.

  Chloe, the redhead, grinned. “Did Kelsey give you her cow or chocolate milk?”

  The star of my twenty-four-hours-a-day-seven-days-a-week fantasies blushed in the cutest possible way, and it took me a second to figure out why.

  I laughed, which made Kelsey turn redder. “I’m not going to answer on the account it will only get me in trouble.”

  “You aren’t lactose intolerant are you?” Chloe asked. “I tried giving a boy my chocolate milk once, but he wasn’t allowed to drink it.”

  The corners of my mouth twitched as I fought back another laugh. “No, I’m not lactose intolerant.”

  Her face brightened. “So, you can eat ice cream?”

  I nodded. “I happen to love ice cream. What about you?”

  “Change legs,” Kelsey said, and the three of them switched the leg they were standing on.

  “You should do it too,” Lindsay said, pointing at me, then wobbled for a second before regaining her balance.

  I moved into position, which wasn’t easy with dress pants and a shirt on. I still had my tie on, but had loosened it before coming to the clinic. My suit jacket was back in the BMW.

  The girls giggled, even though my balance was better than theirs.

  “I love chocolate ice cream,” Chloe said. “And cookies and cream. And mint chocolate chip.” She went on to name at least five other flavors.

  “I only like vanilla,” Lindsay said, swaying worse on the one leg than she had with the other.

  “Do you think Kelsey loves ice cream?” I already knew she did. I even knew her favorite flavor—raspberry cheesecake.

  “Of course she does,” Chloe said, lowering her foot for a second to keep from wobbling too much. “Everyone loves ice cream.”

  “Do you think she would like to have some with me after work?”

  “Yes!” both girls cried out in chorus.

  “So what do you say?” I asked Kelsey. “We can go to The Lickery.” It was her favorite ice-cream place in all of San Francisco.

  “Sounds good.”

  Did you notice it? The glimmer of excitement in her eyes?

  They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

  Well, the way to Kelsey’s heart was via her favorite frozen dairy product.

  Any man worthy of her would know that.

  “We just have a few more exercises to do,” Kelsey told the girls. “Should we get Trent to help us?”

  There was another chorus of yeses, with Chloe jumping up and down like a rubber ball. Kelsey had me toss a beanbag to Lindsay, who had to catch it while standing on one leg. Kelsey did the same with Chloe.

  Once they were finished, Kelsey dismissed them, then told me she had to complete some paperwork first before she could leave, but it would only take a few minutes. While I waited for her in the hospital courtyard, I checked my office emails on my phone.

  At the sound of voices entering the sunny space, I looked up from the email I was reading. Kelsey was walking toward me with a man wearing a suit. She pointed at me and he waved over a gorgeous redhead sitting at a nearby table. Unlike Kelsey, who was wearing yoga pants and a white T-shirt with the hospital name on the chest, the redhead was dressed in a sleeveless black jumpsuit that skimmed her toned body.

  Kelsey and the man approached me at the same time as the redhead.

  “Faith,” he said to the woman, “this is Kelsey, the woman I was telling you about. Kelsey, this is my cousin.”

  His cousin’s lips curved into a seductive smile…aimed at Kelsey. Her heated gaze traveled down Kelsey’s equally scorching body.

  And I swear every hot-blooded male’s fantasy was playing out in living color in front of me.

  Minus the kissing.

  Although from the way Faith was checking out Kelsey, it was clear she would’ve been in favor of that too.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said, still smiling.

  “You never mentioned if you have a girlfriend,” the man said to a stunned Kelsey. “But when I told Faith about you, she begged me to introduce her to you. Hope that’s okay.”

  I choked back a laugh. Faith was definitely barking up the wrong redwood tree. But where the hell did he get the idea Kelsey was gay?

  Faith laughed. “I wouldn’t say I begged. But I did ask him to introduce us.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” Kelsey said, finally finding her voice. “But I’m sorry. I’m already in a relationship.”

  Faith was still smiling, but it had changed from being seductive to holding a hint of understanding. What she understood was lost on me. “I had a feeling you were. You have the glow of someone who’s in a relationship and couldn’t be happier.”

  She did?

  My head spun around to check out this glow I’d apparently missed. But Kelsey didn’t look any different.

  She looked great, as always.

  But that didn’t stop pride from surging through me, because I was responsible for this so-called glow.

  “What was that all about?” I asked Kelsey as we watched Faith and the man walk away. Faith was laughing at whatever he had said.

  “I met him here a few weeks ago. He wanted to go out with me but I wasn’t interested. So I might have told him I was a lesbian.”

  The blush on her face from earlier returned as I threw my head back, laughing.

  Once I was able to control the laughter, I asked, “Why weren’t you interested in him?”

  “He doesn’t like ice cream.” She winked at me and strode toward the courtyard door.

  At The Lickery, we each ordered a double-scoop ice cream in a waffle cone (raspberry cheesecake for Kelsey, cappuccino for me), and headed to an empty bench by the waterfront. In the distance, Alcatraz sat proudly against the blue sky and choppy water.

  “Oh, god, this is soooo good,” Kelsey moaned. Her tongue flicked against the ice cream and I also moaned. Except mine had nothing to do with my ice cream. In my head, the same tongue flicked against the head of my cock, licking the pre-cum as if it were her favorite flavor.

  And then, because that wasn’t torturous enough, I visualized her lips wrapped around it—a replay of last night.

  My cock instantly responded, hard, pulsating, hungry to escape the confines of my pants. Hungry to sink into her soft heat or her hot mouth—either was fine with me.

  “What’s one of your sexual fantasies?” Kelsey asked, and for a second all I could do was stare at her, positive she had only asked me the ques
tion in my head.

  “What’s yours?” I said, doing my best not to sound overly turned on. Which was hard given my current situation.

  Her gaze dropped to my pants and she chuckled. “I believe I asked you first.”

  “Is this like show me yours and I’ll show you mine?”

  This got a bigger laugh from her. “Exactly that.”

  “Can’t say I have any specific sexual fantasies.”

  “So you don’t have any costume fantasies? Like a school girl or French maid?”

  I shook my head. “Women dressed like kids doesn’t turn me on. And French maids are cliché. I’m more of a sexy-underwear-on-the-woman type guy. All right, I’ve told you mine. Your turn.”

  A sly smile slipped onto her lips and she murmured in my ear, “Being restrained…with ties.” She traced her index finger down my silk tie…and I swallowed hard.

  “You never did that with your ex-fiancé?”

  Licking her ice cream, she shook her head. “Not Owen’s thing. And before you ask…no, I haven’t done it with anyone else either. Other than Owen, and of course you, there’s only been the speed fucker, and I didn’t know him enough to trust him with something like that.”

  That made sense.

  The energizing rush of relief, satisfaction, and exhilaration greeted me, like when I had a great day on the stock market and made a shitload of money for my portfolios. Not only had she been with just two other guys before me…she had shared with me this piece of herself.

  Given what I knew about her ex, I had a feeling he didn’t know. Only I was privy to her fantasy.

  I devoured her with a kiss, momentarily forgetting our ice cream. She tasted of sugar and cream and raspberries and Kelsey.

  She tasted of heaven.

  “Until now, I hadn’t realized just how delicious raspberry cheesecake ice cream is,” I said against her lips. “I think it’s become my new favorite.”

  “If you’re not careful, you’ll be wearing your new favorite.” She pulled back slightly. “Our ice cream is gonna melt.”

  “That’s my new sexual fantasy,” I said, voice low, rough, eager. “Licking ice cream off my favorite places. Like here.” I slowly traced my finger along her jaw.

  “And here.” Down her throat.