All The Right Spots

by Lisa Renee Jones

  Breathless she complained about his approach to her surrender, but most certainly, not about his actions. “You don’t play fair.”

  He pressed his hips to hers, showing her the proof of his desire. It made her moan. She liked—no—loved knowing what she did to him. His breath tickled her ear. “All you have to say is yes.”

  His lips brushed her neck, her chin, and then her lips. “Say it,” he urged as he nipped at her lips. “Say yes.”

  “Yes,” she whispered into his mouth, and was rewarded when he kissed her deeply, thoroughly, and with complete perfection.

  Chapter Five

  Jennifer felt as if she was living a sensual dream of sorts. Not her first involving Bobby.

  Her fingers inched into his hair, as his lips trailed over her jaw, neck, and the sensitive spot behind her ear. When he made it to her collarbone, he slid the silk of her robe off her shoulder. The strap of her matching camisole was next.

  He kissed and licked her shoulder, and continued trailing downward. Teasing her with his lips and tongue, her nipples ached to feel the warmth of his mouth.

  As if he read her mind, his hands went to her breasts, filling his hands with them and making her ache with pleasure.

  His mouth nipped through the silk barrier of her camisole, at first one nipple, and then the next. Her breathing was rapid, her body floating. It felt like forever since she had felt like this, so hot, so out of control, so amazingly turned on.

  Since the last time she was with Bobby.

  * * *

  Bobby could feel Jennifer’s body soften for him. Touching her again felt so right. She was his. She always had been. How had he gone five long years without her?

  His voice was a hoarse whisper he hardly recognized. “Let’s get rid of this robe.”

  Willingly, an urgency to her movement, she slid first one arm, and then the other out of the robe. ”And this,” he said as he pulled the camisole down to reveal her breasts.

  For a moment he could do nothing but stare at the pebble-like, rose colored nipples. She had beautiful breasts. Even more amazing than he remembered.

  They fit his palms perfectly, and just to test his memory, he filled his hands. Then he plucked gently at her nipples, loving how plump and aroused they became.

  They called for his mouth. He lowered his head, lapping at it with his tongue, nipping with his teeth, and then suckling. “I have always loved your nipples.” He looked up at her, making sure she was watching him as he circled one peak with his tongue. “Did you know that?”

  “Y...yes.”

  “And you love that I love them, don’t you?” he asked as he moved to the other nipple and suckled. She arched her back, her hands lacing through his hair.

  “God, I love how sensitive your nipples are. It turns you on that I like to play with them, doesn’t it?”

  She moaned in response.

  “Answer me,” he demanded with the slightest hint of toughness.

  She liked it when he talked a little dirty.

  She gasped as he scraped his teeth against one of her stiff peaks, and then bit down a bit rougher than before, silently demanding an answer.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He knew all her hot spots.

  If he gave her breasts enough attention, she would practically orgasm before he even made it between her thighs.

  “I want to touch you all over,” he said, as his mouth found hers again. His hand found the flatness of her stomach even as his tongue sensually stroked hers.

  His lips lingered just above hers, tasting her in between words. “Are you wet for me, Jenn?” Lips brushed lips. “Um?”

  His fingers slid down her stomach, and under the silk of her boxers. He cupped her mound, and his fingers found the warm, slick wetness of her arousal. Knowing she was turned on, feeling the evidence, made him instantly harder. He could feel the strain of his erection against his zipper.

  “Nice,” he said. “I love when you’re wet for me,” nuzzling a nipple with his lips.

  The temptation to make love to her was almost overwhelming. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her, and feel her as if she was a part of him.

  But he wouldn’t, not now, not today. This was for her, and her only.

  Pulling gently on her silk boxers, silently he urged her to raise her hips. “Let’s get rid of these.” He slid the silk hugging her bottom down her legs.

  Moving so that he was on his side, her on her back, his leg shackled hers. The position gave him the perfect opportunity to watch her.

  He liked watching her come.

  He slid his hand into her soft, blond curls, and then used his finger to tease her clit. She squirmed slightly, biting her bottom lip.

  Using his leg, he urged her thighs wider apart, and then slid two fingers over her nub and straight to the heat of her arousal.

  Sliding his arm under her neck he pulled her mouth to his as he slid his fingers inside her, devouring her with his tongue and fingers in the same instant.

  He started a slow, caressing motion with both his tongue and fingers. With a practiced skill he had never forgotten, he slowly took her to the edge.

  His lips teased, feathered along her skin, tasting her and absorbing the woman he loved so much. Her flavor, her smell, the way she felt. Touching her set him on fire, giving him a rush of heat from head to toe. It was amazing to him how a simple brush of her hand against his could sometimes make him hard.

  She made him crazy with desire. And he loved knowing he did the same to her.

  And she was so close to coming.

  He could almost taste it as his tongue lingered inside her mouth. Her body clenched at his fingers, begging for more. With the past as his guide, he increased the pressure on the spot that had never failed him.

  She was barely kissing him back, a sure sign of how near she was to release. More aggressively, driven by her arousal and his own, he suckled her nipple, this time almost roughly. She moaned loudly, turning towards his mouth, hands around his head.

  He kept his fingers moving inside her body, caressing that spot she loved so much. The tension of her building release was in her body. His mouth found hers, kissing her passionately, pushing her over the edge.

  And then she shattered.

  Her body spasmed around his fingers, and one of her hands dug into his shoulder, fingers pressing into his shoulder.

  His body yearned to experience her pleasure, to sink deep inside her, and know her once again. God, he loved making her come.

  His fingers slowed and lightly stroked, bringing her down while still ensuring she enjoyed every last moment of her body's response. No way was he letting her cut it short.

  When she finally relaxed, she was blushing as if embarrassed. Her breathing was still a bit erratic, as her palm cupped his cheek. “That was...” she wet her lips, “um…thank you.”

  He laughed. Just like old times. “I never understood why you said 'thank you' after.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. “I should say 'thank you' to you.”

  Touching her again was like heaven.

  Her eyes drifted downward, and then her hand cupped his erection. “Not yet, you shouldn’t.”

  He grabbed her wrist. “No,” he said gently, but firmly. “This was for you.”

  Her brows dipped and she opened her mouth to speak, but a knock on the door stopped her. Her eyes flew to the clock.

  “Oh, no,” she said, as she flung her legs to the side of the couch. “That’s Marcie, and I haven’t even gotten dressed.”

  He leaned forward and ran his hand down her arm. “Calm down. Go shower, and I’ll make an excuse for you.”

  She grabbed her boxers from the floor. “Like what?” she asked desperately.

  He grinned. “How about your alarm didn’t go off, so you were sound asleep when I got here a few minutes ago?” He nodded towards the coffee. “Take your coffee, so you can enjoy it while you get ready.”

  She ignored his comment about the coff
ee. “That could work. Okay,” She said and shoved her arms in her robe before taking the coffee she handed him. A knock sounded again.

  “I’ve got it,” he said and winked.

  And her, he hoped.

  Chapter Six

  Tonight she would have to see him.

  Jennifer paced her living room, dressed and was physically ready to leave her house. Mentally, she was near breakdown.

  Instead of typical bachelor/bachelorette parties, Marcie and Mark had opted for a combined party. And tonight was the night.

  There was no hiding from Bobby, though she mentally plotted ways to do so as she had shopped with Marcie.

  Of course, he would be at the party.

  She didn’t want to see Bobby, let alone want him. Both seemed inevitable.

  Just hours before, she had been intimate with Bobby. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t, she thought with disgust.

  She was too busy having an earth-shattering orgasm.

  Avoiding him seemed the only way to make certain she didn’t act on that want. He had proven she couldn’t resist him. Her heart couldn’t take another encounter like the one that morning. His touch made her body ache, but it also stirred her heart and mind.

  Already, she was in too deep.

  She had never gotten over him. That wasn’t a new reality. It had simply been tucked deep enough that she didn’t have to deal with it daily.

  Only alone, in hiding, when no one else knew.

  But his presence, and his attention, was opening that wound. Having him around for a month, allowing him to touch her, would surely destroy her when he left.

  Mark was holding the party at his house, and she knew he expected a wild night. He had already told all the guests he was taking up car keys at the front door. He had an oceanfront home that was big enough to hold half the city.

  At eight o’clock, she sat in front of Mark’s house, and turned off the car engine. Staring at the house, she considered leaving. She had dressed in a sexy black jumpsuit, telling herself it wasn’t for Bobby. Form-fitting, it hugged every curve, looking a bit like a cat woman suit. Only not shiny. She didn’t do shiny. It was, however, the sexiest thing in her closet. Though it showed very little skin, it managed to invite the imagination to work.

  And she had wanted an excuse to wear it. It made her feel sexy.

  A bitter laugh escaped her lips, and seemed to bounce off the windows, taunting her. She had so dressed for Bobby. Who was she trying to fool?

  She was in trouble, and she knew it. If he did the right thing, she was bound to respond. She just wanted him too damned bad not to.

  Excuses filtered through her mind. The best of which, she concluded, would be a sudden illness, perhaps food poisoning.

  She sighed, giving up on the idea of skipping out on the party.

  No way was any excuse going to fly. Marcie would never forgive her for not showing up. She had to go inside.

  Forcing herself out of the Jeep, she wished she had waited until later in the night to arrive at the party. Of course, that wouldn’t have been good, either, and she knew it. As it was, she had bowed out of helping set up for the party and was feeling guilty as hell about it. Marcie was her best friend. She didn’t want to let her down.

  Music filtered through the air as she opened the front door of Mark’s house. She had been around his place so much she didn’t bother to knock. He was quickly becoming family.

  The song registered instantly in her mind, Marvin Gay singing let's make love tonight. Her stomach twisted in a tight knot.

  If the song was any indicator of what was to come, she was in deep trouble.

  The instant she stepped into the foyer, a number of people called her name. Already the house was crowded. A young guy, maybe twenty-three at the most, held out his arm to block her path. She glowered at him. She wasn’t in the mood for games. Her tension was on ultra high. “What?” Irritation etched her tone.

  “I’m Ned, and you can’t pass without giving me your keys.” He pointed to a very full brown paper bag by his feet, where apparently he had collected a large load of keys.

  “Who are you?” she demanded wondering about giving her keys to some stranger. “And where is Mark?”

  He frowned. Obviously Ned was no rocket scientist.

  “Ah,” he said, “name's Ned.”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes and then dug her keys from her purse. She flung them in the bag. Moving through the house, she pasted the kitchen, and then the front sitting area. Waving to people here and there, and offering a few greetings, she plastered on a fake smile.

  All she really wanted to do was to find Marcie and make her presence known. Then she would slip into a quiet corner where Bobby wouldn’t find her.

  She found Marcie standing in the center of the sunken living room. She stood next to Mark, holding his arm as she talked with Sally, one of the waitresses from the restaurant.

  Watching Marcie fidget and giggle told Jennifer she was already tipsy.

  Jennifer had never cared much for Marcie’s behavior when she was drinking. She loved the woman, but she was a bad drunk. Hard to control, and a blabbermouth. If Marcie had a secret, it would come out when she was drunk.

  Jennifer herself wasn’t much of a drinker. She never even managed to finish her regular Friday night margarita. Expelling a breath, Jennifer took the step leading to the sunken living room. Maneuvering through a group of talkers, she avoided being stopped, not making eye contact with anyone.

  Marcie’s eyes widened when she saw Jennifer. “Hey, Jenn,” she said a bit dramatically, then flung her arms around Jennifer’s neck and gave her a huge hug.

  “I love you like a sister,” she said into her hair. Leaning back, she looked into Jennifer’s eyes. “You know that, don’t you?”

  This was new. She had never seen drunk, sentimental Marcie. “Yes, sweetie, I do.” Marcie kept her arm wrapped around Jennifer’s waist.

  “Hi, Jenn,” Sally said with a twisted grin on her face. She was a cute, twenty-something brunette, a Sandra Bullock type who was always fun to be around.

  “Hey,” Jennifer said to Sally, and then looked at Mark, and gave him a nod and smile.

  Mark was the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome. He was also smart and deeply in love with Marcie. “Good thing we are taking up keys tonight,” he said and grinned.

  Marcie looked up at Jennifer. “You should get a drink.”

  “I don’t want,” she said and lost the rest of her sentence as she caught a glimpse of Bobby. Her pulse rate jumped to double time. Forcing herself to continue, she added, “a drink.”

  Marcie pressed her about needing a drink, but Jennifer had tuned her out. Her attention was completely focused on Bobby. She vaguely heard Sally and Mark saying something as well, but she didn’t catch what.

  Bobby stood at the fireplace, leaning against the ledge, one foot crossed over the other. His stance was casual, almost lazy, but his body said rock-hard and on alert.

  He wore jeans that had a sexy rip in the knee, a button-down blue shirt, and scuffed boots. He looked all male, a bit dangerous, and sinfully irresistible. Which was exactly why she had to put distance between them?

  She turned to Marcie, and blurted, “I need a drink.”

  “Finally, she listens,” Marcie calls behind her.

  Jennifer darted through the crowd towards the kitchen. Ignoring the hired bartender, she opted for the kitchen, hoping to be alone.

  The drink wasn’t her real agenda. Avoiding Bobby was. However, at this point she wasn’t against a drink. Maybe even needed it.

  Finding her chosen hideaway empty, she let out a breath of relief. A little peace and some time to pull herself together was a godsend.

  She found several bottles of alcohol on the counter. She looked at the selection, but found no mixers. Shrugging, she picked up a bottle of tequila and poured some in a plastic cup.

  She stuck her nose to the rim and then pulled back as the smell pinched at her nose. “I c
an’t drink that stuff,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Facing the counter, she rested her palms on the edge and let her head fall forward. Her mind raced and worse, her body screamed for Bobby.

  Worse, with so many pent up feelings, she felt like she might just cry. So much for composure.

  Suddenly, she felt a muscular frame settle behind her.

  Bobby.

  There was no mistaking the spicy male scent, so him, or the gentle, yet oh-so-masculine hands that came down beside her own.

  She didn’t move.

  As her body took in the feel of his nearness and her senses reeled with his presence, she suppressed a tiny little moan.

  Damn it, why did he have to feel so good?

  He nuzzled her ear. “This black jumpsuit looks so damn good on you.”

  “Bobby—“

  His voice was a seductive purr as he spoke over her. “You look absolutely eatable. Should we find out if I’m right?”

  “Bobby, stop,” she said, but she couldn’t seem to make herself move or try to escape. His muscular body fit hers like a glove, making her hum with sexual awareness. “Just stop.” Her voice was a soft plea. She couldn’t push him away.

  Instead he stepped closer, pushing his hips firmly against her backside. He was wonderfully, obviously, aroused.

  For her.

  She didn’t want to react, but her body had other ideas. Goosebumps danced on her skin as heat gathered between her thighs. The first signs of wetness hit her like a seductive cry for more.

  “Stop,” she whispered even as her skin tingled, and her nipples puckered.

  “I can’t, Jenn,” he said as his warm breath trickled along her neck, tantalizing her senses. “I missed you too damned much to walk away now.”

  Before she could fully take in the importance of his words, his hands slipped to the front of her thighs and slowly, yet firmly, slid upwards. She moaned, feeling the last of her control slip away.

  She wanted this—maybe even needed it.

  One of his hands flattened on her stomach, and he pressed her bottom against his hardness.