“It doesn’t matter.” He drummed his fingers on his legs.
She felt the wall cropping up between them again. “Okay. It doesn’t have to.”
“I didn’t mean to ruin your night with this.” He stopped moving his fingers and clenched his jaw.
She expected some things to be tough for him to talk about, and this ate at him. “You didn’t. I promise. I’m always here; that hasn’t changed.”
He forced out a breath through clenched teeth. “We should head home. You have to work in the morning.”
“We can stay out here a little longer.” She wanted to help him sort through this. As much as she’d tried to ignore it up to now, he wasn’t the Zane who left six years ago. He was haunted by choices she couldn’t fathom having to make, and she wanted to help him through it.
“And do what? Not talk? I’m sorry, Riley. I can’t. Not tonight.”
The shrug-off hurt more than she thought possible, gnawing inside and chipping away at her core. She wouldn’t push him if he wasn’t ready to talk, though. The only solution was for her to be available when that happened, and hope he understood she was listening without judgement.
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but what else was she supposed to say? This wasn’t about her. Zane needed to heal. “I understand.”
Chapter Seven
Zane drummed his fingers against his leg, while he waited for Riley to answer the door. It was a good bet she was home. Her car was in the parking lot, and they were meeting Kenzie for dinner in a couple hours.
He told Riley he’d stop by early so they could just hang out for a little while. Still, no response to the doorbell or his knocking.
He hated to see her hurt, and it was worse when he knew he caused it—like the hurt reflected on her face after they left the bar two nights ago, when he couldn’t bring himself to open up.
He was grateful she didn’t push him, though. He’d made so many bad decisions while he was deployed, like every time he chose a challenge over what he knew was right.
Knock a third time, or call her? Oh, right. He grabbed his keyring. This would take some getting used to.
He pushed into the condo and locked the door behind himself. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he spun toward the kitchen. Riley sat at the table, sketchbook in front of her. With her earphones in, she was oblivious to the world.
He followed the curve of her body, from toes against the floor, up her bare leg, to where her thigh rested on the foot tucked beneath her. She wore a button-down shirt with only the middle two buttons done up, and possibly nothing else. Her half-dry hair hung around her face, as though she’d gotten out of the shower and forgotten to finish dressing.
She shifted her weight, and her shirt pulled open at the top, revealing a round, firm breast. His blood pressure kicked up a notch, and his cock throbbed. Her offer from the other night rushed back to him, taunting as it had so many times over the past few days. Fuck, she was tempting. Inspiration flushed her cheeks, and though she was half-exposed, she was still statuesque. Her focus made her that much sexier.
He really shouldn’t be staring. He adjusted his jeans, doing his best to hide his reaction, and knelt next to her. She hadn’t brought up the casual sex offer again. He’d have a hard time turning it down if she did. It was hard enough not bringing it up himself.
She had on more than just the shirt after all, though the plaid men’s boxers peeking out from underneath did nothing to relieve the insistent throb below his waist. He ignored his arousal and rested a hand on her arm.
She almost jumped out of the chair, before she focused on him. Her hand flew to her chest, tugging her shirt farther open and offering an amazing view of her sun-darkened skin. “Holy shit. You scared the hell out of me.”
He forced his gaze to her face, unable to hide a smile at her reaction. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” She tucked her legs under her again, covering more of her body with the shirt.
Not that the gesture did anything to stop the teasing images racing through his thoughts. “I kind of am.”
“Sit next to me.” She tugged him to his feet.
He dropped into a second padded chair, trying to be subtle about adjusting himself again. A tiny smile still danced on her lips. Was it because he wasn’t succeeding at all in hiding his erection, or because she was still half-lost in her drawing? She gave him one last glance before turning back to her work. “How’d the interview go?”
His arousal limped away at the single question. “Not as well as I hoped.” He hadn’t even made it past the company’s screening process, thanks to his lack of a degree or civilian experience. Those weren’t the words used, but he heard it in the interviewer’s voice over the phone and the way the conversation all but died when Zane mentioned his only experience with network security had been overseas for the military.
“I’m sorry,” Riley said.
So was he. He also wanted to talk about anything else. He pulled her sketchpad toward him.
Wow. Awe raced through him. It was the character she said was based on him, with a wiry man kneeling in front of him. And both of them were naked. She hadn’t told him she was drawing yaoi—male-on-male graphic novel pornography. “You drew another guy sucking me off?”
She let out a short laugh. “Since when are you a prude? Besides, it’s not you. It’s a drawing that happens to be built like you. I already told you that.”
He should be offended or something, but the tease on her full lips, and that she’d drawn him naked in a compromising position—even if it wasn’t one he was into—made his pulse race again. “I just don’t get it. Why do some girls get off on two good looking guys groping each other?”
“I’m not getting off on it. And you’re better? You’ve never fantasized about two women together?” She already knew the answer. She’d described for him over chat, at least half a dozen times, her making out with another girl.
The memory of the images she painted with words made his dick perk up. “That’s different,” he said.
“How?”
He provided the only answer he could think of—the truth. “Because one turns me on, and the other doesn’t.”
She planted both feet on the ground and scooted her chair closer to his. She nudged his knees apart, rested her elbows on her legs, and traced a line along his inner thigh. She didn’t brush his erection, but she came close. “If it doesn’t do anything for you, what are you right now?”
As hard as he had ever been. He couldn’t keep his gaze off her chest and the fantastic view down the front of her shirt. He drew a finger along her collarbone, eliciting a sharp gasp. “That has more to do with you than your artwork.”
“I thought you liked my drawing.”
“Your skill is borderline erotic; it’s true. The subject matter, not so much.”
Mischief danced behind her eyes, and she increased the pressure against the inside of his leg. “You’re telling me, if you’ve got a woman you’re wild about, and she wants you and another guy at the same time...”
He grimaced—not at the idea, but because he was having a hard time focusing on anything but her touch and the gorgeous curves in front of him.
“Let me finish.” Her voice was sultry and smooth. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t enjoy that at all? One of you between her legs, pounding away, and the other over her mouth, stroking himself, her tongue flicking out to caress his skin? That image doesn’t do anything for you?”
“I’m not opposed to balls touching.” It was hard to tell which visuals were doing what. All he knew was he’d need some sort of release before dinner. He was seconds from telling her exactly that, if it meant she’d help. “I’d rather be alone between your legs, eating you out.”
A flush spread over her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away. “I wasn’t talking about me, and I call bullshit.”
“Oh?” They’d had similar discussions before. Normally one of them backed down before thin
gs escalated, but his rushing blood and rock-hard erection wouldn’t let him drop the subject.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, still stroking the inside of his thigh with her thumb. “Guys who insist they like giving oral better than receiving it only say so because they’ve never gotten a good blow job.”
Fuck. What he’d give for a chance to prove her wrong. Or—hell—prove her right. “Tell me it’s not the same for you. Maybe you’ve just never had a guy who knew what he was doing.” He trailed off, half-expecting her to blow a fuse at the suggestion. When she raised her brows instead, he kept talking. “Besides, I never blame the girl. It’s just harder to get me off orally.”
“Bullshit. Again. I could so prove you wrong.”
Every inch of him roared in response. The thought of her lips wrapped around his cock was almost enough to make him come on the spot. “Too bad we’re not in a position to do that.”
“You look like you’re in the perfect position to me. You never gave me your answer the other day.”
That saved him from bringing it up. “About?” He wanted to hear her say it again. Make sure they were on the same page.
“You know what about. Call it friends with benefits, if you want.”
It didn’t matter what they called it, as long as they kept the rules in mind. “Say I’m in.” In her. On her. “We promise it’s completely separate from our friendship?”
“Of course. We’re both okay with it, and neither of us assumes it will or won’t happen again. This is now, and every other moment is its own thing.”
Yes, goddammit. Yes. He forced his tone to remain even. “All right.”
“So the rules are simple. I bet I can get you off orally and you can’t do the same. You name the prize.”
“A screaming orgasm.”
“You’re on. Who goes first?”
He slid from his chair, done negotiating. He nudged her legs apart, scraping his fingers along the bare flesh of her inner thighs. Sharp cherry mingled with the scent of her sex, and his thoughts swam.
He kissed up the soft skin, the pain of anticipation straining against his jeans, when she moaned and arched her back. He glided his lips up one leg and down the other—from knee to knee—never moving past the edge of her shorts.
She whimpered and slid her butt forward in the seat. “You’re a tease.”
“And?” The need in her taunt made him smile.
“And nothing.” She gasped when he kissed higher. “Just saying.”
He lightly scraped his teeth over the cotton covering her mound, gliding his tongue along the fabric and over her covered slit. She whimpered again and shifted her hips closer.
He hooked his fingers in the elastic waist of her shorts and tugged. She lifted her ass off the chair long enough to let him slide the clothes to the floor, before she dropped back in her seat, legs spread.
He groaned at the sight in front of him. “Jesus. You’re gorgeous.”
She flushed and ducked her head.
He traced the outside of his finger along the edge of her pussy, his moan at how wet she already was mingling with hers. The promise of her taste taunted him, but he had a point to prove. The build-up was as important as the act itself. And he was going to make her scream.
Keeping his touch light, he parted her lower lips and followed a trail back down. Her skin glistened in the light.
He kissed up her leg until his mouth finally reached its destination. Her sweet taste hit his tongue, and his thoughts short-circuited. Better than the fantasy. Fuck. He wanted to bury his face down there and make her scream until she was hoarse.
Her breathing increased, and her hands rested on the top of his head. When he licked her clit, her gasp filled the room, and her hips bucked. His cock pressed against his jeans, begging to get in on the action, and he ignored it.
He wrapped his lips around her swollen sex, and she cried out. The new sound drilled into his head and jolted his dick. He flicked his tongue back and forth over the button, sometimes nipping lightly with his teeth.
She gyrated against him, her hands locked at the base of his neck. Part of him wanted to drop his pants and slide inside her, but even more, he wanted to hear her come like this. Wanted to taste her and feel her against his mouth when it happened.
He teased the edge of her entrance with his finger, still licking. Her whimper at the light contact melted into a loud moan when he pushed two fingers inside her. Jesus, she was slick. It was a good thing he still had his pants on, because once his cock came out, he wasn’t going to last long.
He sucked harder on her clit, hooking up his fingers as he glided inside her.
She thrust forward again when he hit the right spot. “Fuck, Zane. God, yes.”
Her breathing came in short gasps, and he nipped at her again, her sweet taste and the lack of blood to his head making the room swim. He pushed his fingers hard inside her. The thrusting of her hips grew to a frantic pace, and she held his head in place. Her ass rose off the chair, and her pussy clenched around his fingers as she came, squirming and driving against him, and groaning until he didn’t know how she could still breathe.
Finally, she slumped back against the chair with a soft sigh.
He wanted to be smug, but even more, he wanted to bend her over the back of her seat and feel her tight pussy around his dick.
He rose to his knees, knotted his fingers in her hair, and crushed their mouths together. Kissing Riley was like nothing he’d ever experienced. Desire sparked in his veins at the taste of cherry lip-gloss mingled with her juices.
He could dive into this forever, dancing his tongue with hers. Nibbling her lips. Drowning in the hunger that flowed between them. How had they never even kissed before?
And how was he going to resist the urge to do it again? Fuck, he wanted her in a million different ways.
She pulled away, face flushed and eyes still heavy with want. “You were incredible.”
“Told you.” He smirked.
She nudged his shoulders, and he dropped back into his chair. She slid her fingers down the front of her shirt, undoing the few buttons holding it on, and dropped the clothing off her shoulders.
He couldn’t pull his gaze from the gorgeous sight—the round tits, the curve of her hips, and the smooth spot between her legs.
She fell to her knees. “My turn.”
The husky tone of her voice made his cock pulse harder. She made quick work of his belt, fingers brushing his bare waist as she undid the button on his jeans.
She pulled down his zipper, and he whimpered at the release in pressure. He groaned loudly at the skin-on-skin contact of her soft fingers working his shaft free from his boxer briefs.
She stroked him. “You’re big. You never thought to mention that?”
“Show, don’t tell. Right?”
She laughed and dropped her head, lips hovering less than an inch from his cock. He watched the deliberate, sensual movements, his pulse screaming. Her breath was hot against his skin.
“You don’t mind”—she moved her lips up his length, still not making contact, and slid her free hand down her chest—“if I feel us both up. Do you? I wouldn’t ask, but that thing you did with your tongue...” She looked up at him, her lip caught between her bottom teeth. “Just the thought of sucking you off... I’m still hot.”
Every time he thought she couldn’t unravel him further... “Please do.”
She glided her tongue over the head of his cock. He growled when she dropped her hand between her legs at the same time she took him in her mouth, her groan vibrating through his skin. She moved slowly, keeping the tension high and him right at the edge, as she sucked.
Her sighs of pleasure increased, mingling with his. The sound of her voice blended with the look in her eyes, her mouth sliding up and down, and the sensation of her hand wrapped around him. All of them heightened every nerve ending in his body.
She pumped in rhythm with the bob of her head, hair spilling around her face and surrou
nding her in a curtain of blonde strands. He brushed her hair aside, needing to see her.
She increased her pace. Her muffled sighs and moans grew louder, and he recognized the sound of her drawing close to climax again. The noise drew him closer to a peak, taunting him, leaving his thoughts begging for release. She let her cries echo against his cock as she came, never slowing down.
He leaned back his head, so close to peaking but still not crossing that line. She caressed his sac, her fingers still slick from playing with herself, and he grunted in pleasure. She stroked the soft skin. Teasing. Tugging. Taunting. A rainbow wave spilled through his thoughts and filled his body. He felt a familiar clench in his gut and came fast and hard, all his thoughts vanishing in a rush when he hit the back of her throat with desperate thrusts.
She slowed as he did. As she pulled away, and licked him clean. He shuddered with each touch, his head still light from all the sensations.
She shifted her weight to sit on the floor, instead of kneeling, and folded her legs to the side. Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she rested her head against the inside of his thigh. Expectation and question shone in her gaze when it met his.
He let out a laugh, tinged with relief and disbelief. “Wow.”
“So we call it a draw?”
He didn’t care what they called it, as long as he got to keep the memory seared in his head. Still, he said, “A draw implies we get to try for a tie-breaker.”
“I guess it does.”
He trailed his fingers through her hair, watching the rise and fall of her chest. Memorizing how perfect this moment was. Did they really need to be somewhere else tonight?
She sighed. “We should probably leave soon.”
“Yeah.” That answered that. The bubble encasing them shattered.
She grabbed her shirt as she stood, pulling it on but letting it hang open. Her smile never faded. “I need another quick shower.”
Fantasy ran rampant through his thoughts. “You want help?”
Her Airman Page 6
