Ahead in the Heat (11 page)

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Authors: Lorelie Brown

BOOK: Ahead in the Heat
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Chapter 20

S
ean Westin making promises to Annie Baxter.

This was a moment that ought to be written down in the record books. Maybe she’d go home and inscribe the date on a calendar . . . except she didn’t keep a paper calendar anymore. Damn it. Besides, sometime a few weeks from now, Sean would be done with her. By then they’d have burned out this strange combination of magnetism and chemical attraction, and she’d only be able to look at the annotation she had once made. Better to take the memory out and turn it over and over in her mind. This wasn’t going to last into the future; no part of this would keep going.

But this was now.

And she sure as fuck liked now.

“Don’t leave me hanging long, Sean,” she said, and even to her own ears her voice sounded sultry. Sultry! She didn’t do sexy, not anymore. Not since she’d been too young to know what to do with it.

“I’m not going far.”

He matched actions to words, heading for the seemingly blank wall panels in the middle of the room. The sinks hung on the other side, and she was surprised when he pressed a spot on the left side and a cabinet swung open.

“So damn slick,” she couldn’t help but say. “That was totally hidden!”

He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “And here I was hoping you’d be staring at my ass.”

It definitely was an ass worth staring at. Heat attacked her cheeks. She blushed so often around him, it was as if he had some personal button of hers. He was so lean that his cheeks had twin dimples. The backs of his thighs were hard with muscle. He’d developed his quads to the point they could take a woman’s bite without notice.

Or maybe he’d notice but like it.

Inside the cabinet were all the usual supplies found in a bathroom. Bottles of over-the-counter medicine and Band-Aids and rubbing alcohol. The curious part was how precisely ordered everything was. “Does your housekeeper tidy your cabinets too? I can’t imagine living like that.”

“No,” Sean said. “Well, he does, but it’s according to my orders.”

“You’ve got a thing, don’t you?”

He lifted a single eyebrow, his cheeks tucking so tight against his grin that something nearing dimples popped up. “We’re grown-ups. I’m pretty sure you don’t have to call my dick a thing.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, even while she practically withered up and died of scorching embarrassment. “You’re a dork.”

“I know.” He wrapped his hand around his cock. His flesh overflowed even his big, broad hand. The head was bright red, probably about the same color as her cheeks. “But I’m a dork who’s going to make you feel so good, you won’t know what hit you.”

“Seeing-stars kind of orgasm?” Hope bubbled in her chest. She knew how to make herself feel good, but she didn’t know how to make herself feel . . . transported. In her few relationships as an adult, she’d never really hit that spot where she could give up control.

She had a feeling Sean was going to completely wrest control from her. Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears and took up a resounding thump in her chest. She didn’t know if she could handle this, so she struck out, though gently. “I meant the cabinets. Everything in your house. It’s so tidy. Sparse. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Spartan.”

He cocked his head, approaching her with more swagger in his step than any man ought to have. It helped that he had a body to die for. If the strong chest wasn’t enough, there were always his flawlessly carved abs. Or the thighs that had more power than she probably had in her entire body. His cock rose from a tight nest of pubic hair and stretched nearly to his navel, without any support. Just his . . . enthusiasm.

She swallowed down her own excitement. Otherwise she might start drooling, and that wasn’t the least bit appealing in a booty call partner. Or it shouldn’t be, at least.

“I like my place tidy. Isn’t that better than bachelor-style trashed?” He stepped back under the heat of the shower. He came close enough to touch her, and he trailed the backs of his fingers over her jaw. Down her neck. All the way across her chest to the tips of her breasts. Her hands curled into fists against the urge to simply jump on him. “Would you prefer
if I had to shove pizza boxes under my bed before you arrived? What if I had to sniff the sheets to see if they’re clean?”

She giggled. “Ew, no.”

“Then I’m not sure what you’re complaining about.”

Her hand looped around his neck, but she quickly pulled it away again. “It wasn’t a complaint. More like . . . I was pointing out that I noticed.”

“You notice lots of things, don’t you, sugar?” He stroked his cock with one big hand, starting at the base and squeezing the swollen head. His grunt made parts of her perk up in answer.

“Is that bad?”

“Fuck, no.” He kissed her, this time a soft nibble of mouth to mouth. Their lips clung and slipped away again and again. His fingers traced over her, again and again.

She tried to take the condom from him, but he noticed and pulled it from her reach. “Nuh-uh,” he said, a teasing note to his voice. “I want you to watch me.”

Her chest thumped with need. She backed up enough steps that the tile wall cooled her shoulders. She stacked her hands behind her ass, one on top of the other, and leaned back, thrusting her chest upward a little. Her breasts were small enough that they could use any help they could get. She swallowed down her pure nerves and concentrated on the show he was putting on for her.

He stroked his shaft again, this time staying away from the head for a few movements. Then he ran his
thumb over the ridge that defined him. “See the way I want you, Annie?”

She tried to answer, but her voice cracked. She wet her lips. “Yes. I do.”

“I’m going to make you feel good.” He opened the condom, leaning out of the shower to toss the wrapper in a waste receptacle. It took a while to notice, but he was kind of fastidious. He was different here than he was in YouTube videos where he’d been drinking in bars and red-carpet parties. “You know what the amazing part of sex is?” He brought her mind back to the scene in front of her.

She couldn’t help but giggle. “I’ve done this a time or two. The fact that I’m going to make you feel good, maybe?”

“Nah.” He came close enough to box her in with his hands flat at the wall beside her head. Between the intensity of his gaze and the way his strong arms framed her and the steaminess of the shower, she was overwhelmed. Completely wrapped up in him.

She ignored the way her stomach dropped at that. And she kept her hands where they were too, stacked behind her ass. “What is it, then?”

His head bent close enough that his mouth hovered over her ear. She could feel his breath, and it left tingles in its wake. She bit her tongue lightly, then harder. Just trying to hold on to her sense. But he was snatching every bit of it. Everything she had to give.

“The amazing thing is that you’re never going to forget me, Annie.” He framed her face first, then his hands split and stroked down her throat. His thumbs rubbed over her collarbone. Over her shoulders. Separately, he cupped her breasts, but he didn’t linger. Instead, he moved on to her ribs and her waist and her hips. Her thighs next.

She felt possessed by him. Completely enveloped. He could touch any inch of her that he wanted and she’d let him. She didn’t know what to do with that. She didn’t know how to make it normal, to make it only about sex.

Except that was the part of this that was different to begin with, wasn’t it? It wasn’t only about sex. She’d had sex in the last few years. This was about epic sex, about finding a new part of her. And she couldn’t do that if she didn’t give up the ties she’d wrapped around herself.

She let herself melt, let her boundaries drop. Her eyes shut first, and her neck bent until her head came to rest against the cool wall. Every touch became more, echoed deeper. He dipped his head and took her nipple into his mouth and she almost exploded. The pleasure jerked her up onto her toes.

There was no heavy-handed fumbling with Sean. She should have known better than to expect such, even on a subconscious level. He took her mouth, sweeping over her with a rhythm that made her want to beg. Made every phrase in her thick head change into words so basic as
please
and
yes
and his simple name. He held that big cock in one hand and zeroed in on her open, needy pussy in one stroke.

He didn’t tease. Didn’t ease his way in. Once the
thick head was already notched in her body, he scooped up her knee high enough to hook over his hip.

And then he fucked her. Straight up, deep into her body, and overwhelmingly sure.

She cried out. Her voice was loud, even under the patter of the shower, and it made her jump. Sean’s hands steadied her. Sean’s
body
steadied her.

He nuzzled her hair, his mouth slipping over her cheek to her ear. “Deep breath. I’m sorry if I went too fast.”

Except he hadn’t. He’d gone just right. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. He was inside her, and her body clenched and pulled at his length. She was so full; she hadn’t ever felt like this before. The delicious burn was something she’d remember forever. He was right about that much.

Still she wanted more.

Deliberately, she dropped off the tiptoes of the foot still on the floor. Kept dropping until her heel was flat. It drew him deeper into her. She gave another little cry, but this one turned into a desperate moan as soon as he pushed up. A slow, grinding move that dragged his pelvis over the front of her pussy. Her clit sang out with the unrelenting pressure.

She gulped back precious oxygen, but it wasn’t enough to drag her back to earth. They were in another world. He’d created a launch sequence that she didn’t know how to stop.

Her intentions to let things go, to embrace release, went flying out the window. He was moving in a
way that made her spin. That made her crazy. She opened her eyes, but all she could see was tile ceiling and the drip of water and—

Sean grasped her chin between fingers and thumb. He dragged her facedown until she was looking him in the eyes. “Right here, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

“I know,” she breathed. “You’re everywhere.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He stopped moving inside her.

She whimpered. Her hands flattened across his back. The muscles there were hard from restraining himself. “No. Please. Fuck me, Sean. Fuck me. I want it.”

He started again. Little thrusts at first, as if he’d make her beg for it all over again. Then deeper. Deeper. “You do, don’t you? You want it so bad. You need me to fuck you.”

His words were coming harder and faster, mimicking the way he was working against her body. Even the way his chest rubbed over hers, the water from the shower evaporating between them, made more pleasure rock her. She would give anything to make sure he kept going.

She was winding tight. So tight inside. Her clit throbbed with the beat of her heart, which was clattering with rapid, desperate speed. Her nails sank into his back. He hissed in her ear and she was glad to hear it, because she was making needy, animal sorts of sounds. Things that sounded like quiet screams.

She buried her mouth against his shoulder. She
was going to lose it, and she’d cry out so loudly when she did. Hiding it against his skin would help. But he wedged his grip under her chin again. “No,” he growled. His eyes were burning, and those lean cheeks looked like they’d been carved out of glass. “You’ll scream. I’m going to make you scream. And when you do, I want to hear it.”

She shook her head. She didn’t have the words to protest. His mouth looked like something sculpted by an Italian artist.

“Please, Annie,” he said, but it was more an order than a request. “Let me hear you. Let me hear your screams. I’m earning them, aren’t I? So you’ll give me what I’m working for.”

That did it. Oh, that did it so hard. She exploded, shards of sensation working out from her pussy to her stomach. Her legs clenched on his hips and her nails sank into his back. She came hard, and she came well, and it had been everything she’d hoped for.

And she screamed. She screamed his name.

Chapter 21

S
ean had gotten what he wanted and victory was sweet. Damn sweet. He couldn’t remember a better one, for that matter. His perfect-ten score his first year on the ’CT had been pretty good, but this . . . fuck yeah. He was clasped in Annie’s wet heat, her interior muscles clenching and grasping his cock as if she’d never let him go. The room still echoed with her scream.

Her orgasm face was beautiful too. Her cheeks went slack as her mouth opened, and her eyes turned so hazy. She looked like she’d found nirvana.

It was all he could do to hold back his own come. He flattened a hand against the wall. It had sucked up the heat from the shower water. His hand slipped over the slick tile.

She was pinned between him and the wall, almost completely helpless. Her hands had frozen across his back, but her hips still shifted toward him again and again, in progressively smaller movements.

She came back to earth slowly. Her cries softened and by the time she shut her mouth, she was gasping for breath. Her gaze finally came back to his. She licked her lip, swallowing so hard that her throat worked up and down. The pulse at the base of her neck fluttered into overdrive. She lifted a hand to the
side of his face, and the fact that her slender fingers shook was a win in his book. “You’re not done.”

“Nope.” She felt so fucking good, though. It was a close call. He moved slowly, his thrusts kept to the bare minimum to extend her pleasure. “Can you handle more?”

She laughed, breathy and free. Her foot hooked behind his thigh. She was strong. Wiry. He liked knowing that he couldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t offend her either, it seemed. Because she grinned as wide as could be and shook her head. “I’m a woman. We get multiple orgasms. It’s payment for all our monthly bullshit. So if you want to try to keep it up, be my guest.”

He punctuated his words with a thrust of his hips that made her gasp. “It won’t require much trying, sweetheart.”

He reached past her to thumb off the shower control. The water stopped immediately, and Annie made a soft little noise of disappointment. “I rather liked that.”

“You’ll like this better.”

He locked his hands around her small ass. It wasn’t hard to lift her, and she obliged by locking her legs tightly around his waist. They were dripping wet, which ought to have made his walk across the bathroom difficult, but he barely noticed. He had a goal, and a man with a goal couldn’t be swayed.

“Bed?” she asked, nuzzling the top of his shoulder. Her hair traced spiderweb patterns across his skin, and in contrast her mouth was a hot furnace. She added in teeth and he hissed with pleasure. His cock rubbed up and down, over the tender flesh of
her mound. His head nudged the little bead of her clit, wrenching occasional sighs from her.

“You gonna object?”

He felt her smile against his skin. She was something different, someone he’d never known. Guileless, it seemed. He didn’t see any part of her that was fake, or that she presented as someone different than she was. If she didn’t want to give up a part of herself, she kept it hidden. She was nothing like everyone he’d dealt with, all his life.

Maybe it was a good thing that she’d left the surfing world. She wouldn’t have made it on the pro circuit for more than a month. They were fierce competitors. She didn’t have it in her to go for blood.

“I dunno,” she was saying. “Bed seems kinda pedestrian.”

“As in boring?” He poured teasing affront into his voice.

She leaned back, then back farther, even though she was still curled in his arms. She was intentionally testing his grip, first by leaning forward, enough so that her hands were barely looped around the back of his neck. Then she pushed farther away, actually letting go of him. He had her like a rock because, fucking hell, she wasn’t exactly heavy. Tiny, in fact.

But she was a vicious tease. She dug her nails through her hair, leaving tracks in the damp strands. Her elbows rose, and with them her small breasts as well. Her smile was an imp’s, every bit the temptress. “Boring. Completely.” She faked a yawn, patting her mouth with the back of her fingertips.

“I could drop you.”

The impish tilt of her smile eased into something serene. Her eyes darkened. The stark lines of her abs smoothed out. “You wouldn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I know you, Sean.”

He dropped her.

She bounced on the bed with a squeal. Her knees drew up tight, and she slammed her hands down fast to save herself. A little extra bounce flipped her up onto her knees. “You ass!”

“You asked for it,” he purred. He loomed over her, and her mouth was almost equal with his waist. “You don’t know me, Annie. You think you do, but you’re paddling out in dangerous waters if you pretend otherwise.”

She lifted a single eyebrow, leaning back until her ass made contact with her heels. She was a lean, extended comma of muscle and curves and so beautiful, it almost hurt him to look at her. Because she still didn’t believe him. “Tell me one thing you think I don’t know.”

“Only if you promise to come to Fiji with me next week.” He had no idea where that had come from. Impulse. He’d planned most of his life, but occasionally brilliance came to him in sharp blasts. A trip was what they needed. He liked fucking her, but he wanted her near him when he went back to competition. She felt like the opposite of a lucky charm, since the doping rumors had begun to swirl once
she’d entered his life, but he wanted her to see him jump back into the circuit.

He wanted her to see him being the best.

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. . . . Cloudbreak is such a huge wave. Watching you surf it . . . I don’t know if I can.”

“Sure you can.” He put one knee on the bed, easing over her. She slipped flat against the mattress. They were still soaked, leaving handprints and smears from random body parts all over the expensive blanket. Sean didn’t give a shit. He was using any weapon in his arsenal. “Come with me. I’ll introduce you to everyone I know. If you don’t find new funding for your center, I’ll still pay cash out of my own pocket, even though you let me go as a client.”

She bit her bottom lip. “You know this isn’t about money anymore.”

So he laid siege to her, though keeping it ostensibly innocent. Petting her hip, her thigh. The skin behind her knee was thin and fragile as crystal. Soft as silk, though. He wedged one forearm along her shoulder and head, and lowered his body to hers.

They both gasped. The air had cooled the water on their skin, but beneath that was a searing layer of heat. Her breasts fit against him perfectly, cushioning him. There was something better about the two of them together. “Besides,” he whispered in her ear, “it’s a first-class trip to Fiji. I’ll get you drunk on good wine and feed you fresh pineapple.”

She was breathy. Her lungs were working harder and harder. He framed her skull with his hand, holding her close.

“You know how to entice a girl,” she said, half teasing.

His cock found the heat between her legs as easily as Sean dropped into a layback on the front of a wave. Pushing into her was like coming home. Like practicing something until it became as easy as keeping the heart beating. Unconscious. Except this wasn’t practiced for them. This was still the first time, the only time.

The magic of that realization hit Sean like a fist in the chest. His stomach flipped, and his hand closed on the back of Annie’s head. He pulled her up for a kiss because he had no idea what would show in his eyes. Her mouth gave in to his kiss as if they’d done it a thousand times.

“Yes,” she whispered once he’d pulled his lips from hers. Her gaze darted over his features, and he wondered if he’d been too slow on the whole hiding gig. “I’ll go to Fiji.”

He knew he should have been grinning. Smiling, at the very least. He’d just won. He’d gotten her to agree. But there was a very real part of him that felt about as feral as a wild tiger. He could shred meat with his bare teeth. It was more than agreement; it was victory, and one didn’t do something so tacky as
smile
over victory. The victorious were proud. Fierce.

He increased his strokes, lifting her hips with his one free hand. His fingers were long enough to graze the cleft of her ass, stretch around to where she was so wet and plump and accepting. She cushioned every pump of his hips. More. She welcomed them.

Her body strove toward his. Her mouth parted on
quiet gasps that rapidly became less so. “Oh God. Sean, you are . . . Oh, you’re good. So deep.”

“I can go deeper.” Except he balanced his threat with the opposite, drawing out until shallow thrusts barely kept the head of his cock within the opening of her body. She didn’t reach for him. Her heel found purchase in the sheets, knee locking as her hips sought him. But she stretched her hands up, up over her head until she was a lean line. An exclamation point of want and need.

He put a hand flat over her upper stomach. Beneath his palm, her heartbeat pounded. Runaway train kinds of speed. She was just as affected as he was. There wasn’t a moment of this that didn’t seem scripted from his deepest fantasies. The ones he hadn’t even realized existed until she came around.

He kept fucking her, because what else was there to do? He wanted. He needed.

He never got what he needed. Not really. His surfing career was the only thing he kept balanced, and even in that arena, he still hadn’t reached his ultimate goals. Everything faded or waned over time. He wasn’t surprised by it, considering his basic lack of training to act like a human being.

But knowing he was fucked-up in the head didn’t make him magically stop wishing for better.

He wanted Annie. At least he had her now. He had her hard and long, and deep, and that would be enough. The way he made her scream again would be enough.

Her hands rose from the way they’d twisted in the soft blankets and wrapped around his shoulders. Her wrists rubbed over his ribs, her fingertips dug
into his lats, and she writhed hard enough that the middle of her back came up off the bed.

He braced himself with one hand and framed her face with the other. “Tell me you’re coming.”

“I am. God, I am. Sean, it’s so much.” She shook her head, hard enough that her dark hair spread in a fan. “Too much.”

“No,” he growled. “Just right. Come on me, Annie. Come all over my cock. You know you want to.”

“Yes,” she breathed, except the soft breath turned harder and she drew it out into a sibilant promise. She went off like a firecracker, all explosions and gasping. Her body held him so closely that he thought the pleasure would turn him inside out.

He took it. Threw caution to the wind and pressed his face to the bed beside her head. He didn’t want her to see him when he broke apart. The pleasure started at the base of his spine and worked its way out from there. Pure jolts made his cock twitch, and he buried himself as deep in her as possible. But that wasn’t all of it. He was . . . found.

He’d simply fucked girls before. This wasn’t that; he was still panting as he tried to get his breath back. His blood rushed hard in his ears, leaving only a wave of sound. He didn’t have the brains to figure it out, not now.

So when the doorbell rang, everything in him went swimming-in-the-Arctic kinds of cold.

No one came to his house unannounced. No one invited, at least.

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