BANKS Maya - Undenied (Samhain).txt (9 page)

A few seconds later, Wes shut the door and she looked over to see him carrying several containers of food to the table. He glanced up and met her gaze then smiled.

“Take your time. I’m going to set up our dinner and then I’ll get you out of the tub.”

Just the way he said “get you out of the tub” sent a hundred different shivers and sparks down her spine and tightened the nerves between her legs until she had to force herself to relax.

She watched him from underneath half-lidded eyes as he prepared the table, still dressed in just a towel. Too bad telekinesis was only

something for the movies because she could really use some right now. With one mental push she could tear that towel right off him.

Nude food preparation. Now there was a concept. If they all looked as good as Wes, she could envision a successful catering business centered around that idea.

Wes walked toward the tub, the towel sliding precariously down one hip. Just an inch more. He tugged it back up. Damn.

He reached down, cupping her face in his hands. His lips pressed lightly to hers, kissing her with gentle regard. Then he slid his hands down her body and urged her up.

When she stood, he reached for a large towel and wrapped it around her then helped her over the side of the tub. The simple process of drying her off became deliciously erotic at his hands.

He took one end of the cloth and rubbed in small areas, light, teasing, sometimes hovering over particularly sensitive spots. He brushed the tips of her breasts. Her nipples drew tight into hard points, and he dragged the soft towel over them again.

Her limbs felt laden, warm, satisfied. A comfortable lethargy settled over her as he massaged down her body, taking care not to miss a single inch.

When his cloth-covered hand delved gently between her legs, she widened her stance to give him better access. The edge of the towel rasped over her clit, and in response, a spasm worked from her pelvis into her belly.

The towel fell to the floor in a heap, and she sighed in regret that the sensual drying was over.

Wes walked over to the closet and pulled out a bathrobe then returned and held it open for her to stick her arms in the sleeves. When it fell over her shoulders, he gathered the lapels and pulled it closed in front, securing the ties in a double knot.

He kissed her once on the lips. “Let’s eat.”

Chapter Nine

Payton sat across from Wes at the small table, watching him as he ate. The food was good. Chinese takeout. But she’d be lying if she said she remembered that much about the taste other than the preliminary flavor as it hit her tongue. She was way too absorbed in the moment, in wondering what he’d planned next.

He watched her, too. Chewing slowly, he held his gaze on her, his eyes dark with the promise of what was yet to come.

The towel had come loose before he sat, barely staying up on his hips. She wanted to see him, wanted to see just how far that towel had fallen, but his lower body was hidden by the table.

She bit her cheek to staunch the impish grin that threatened to take over as an idea came to her. With careful nonchalance, she raised her foot, stretching her leg until she brushed against the inside of his thigh.

He flinched as her foot traveled higher, and he leveled a baleful stare at her.

When she reached the hard line of his cock, he grabbed her foot with his hand, holding her there.

“How am I supposed to eat with you doing that?”

She grinned innocently.

He continued to hold her foot in his hand as he ate with the other. He cupped and massaged the instep, kneading with his fingers.

She all but wilted in her chair. Forgotten was the food (or anything else for that matter). She leaned back and propped her other foot between his legs.

“Like that?” he asked as his hand closed around her other foot.

“I like anything that has to do with your touch,” she said softly. “My hands, my feet, my body. I’m like a cat. Pet me and I’ll purr.”

He set her feet gently back down on the floor then scooted his chair back and stood. The towel fell completely away, and she could see his cock, semi-erect, thick and heavy. He walked the step around the table so he was catty-corner to her and held out his hand.

“I plan to do a lot of petting tonight,” he said.

She slid her hand into his and stood. He reached down with his free hand and untied the belt of her robe. When the ends dangled to the floor, he impatiently shoved it over her shoulders, bearing her naked body to his avid gaze.

She stepped forward, closing the short distance between them. His cock brushed against her belly, and she raised her hand to grasp the turgid flesh. Like iron encased in silk. Hard, rigid, strong, the epitome of all a man should be. Yet soft, silken, warm and velvet in her palm.

With her other hand, she cupped his heavy sac, running her fingers up and down the soft underside, feeling the separation of his balls when she pressed inward.

“I think I like being petted, too,” he said in a strained voice.

She reached up on tiptoe to kiss him. He caught her with his hands, cupping the area of her neck underneath her jawline. His fingertips brushed the lobes of her ears as he melded his lips to hers.

His tongue met hers, warm, melting. His thumbs pressed into the hollows of her cheeks then slid to the corners of her mouth. He pulled his head away as she sucked in mouthfuls of air. His hands relaxed and slipped away for a brief moment before he grasped her hips and yanked her against his body.

With slow, deliberate movements, he walked her back toward the bed. Midway, he reached down and swept her into his arms. She hooked her arms around his neck and stared up into his eyes.

Their gazes were still locked as he lowered her to the bed. He came down with her, putting one knee on one side of her hips then finally straddling her body.

“We’re going to operate on the honor system tonight,” he said.

“Oh? This sounds interesting. Which of us is supposed to have the honor because I’m really hoping it’s not me.”

He smacked the side of her behind, sending a delicious, naughty thrill through her groin. “Smart ass.”

He slid his hands up her sides, and as they glided over her curves, she shivered and flinched.

“Ticklish?” he asked with a grin.

She gave him a dirty look.

He continued his path up her body until his fingers lodged underneath her arms. He pushed, raising her arms up and over her head.

“Yes, definitely the honor system. You’re going to leave your arms exactly where I’ve put them. No cheating. No touching. This is my show.”

An excited flutter chased circles around her stomach and into her throat as he threw her own words back at her.

“I can live with that,” she said casually, but her voice shook and betrayed the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

He let her arms go with a stern look to make sure she heeded his directive.

“Touch me,” she whispered. She ached for him, wanted him so desperately. Wanted his hands on her, his fingers, his tongue.

He cupped her breasts, plumping and kneading. His thumbs brushed across her nipples, sending currents of fire through her chest. He plucked the points until they were stiff, erect and tingling. Applying firmer pressure, he pinched each peak, then harder still.

She arched into him, crying out, begging for more, needing more.

His hands slid to her ribcage, and he lowered his head until his lips pressed against the spot between her breasts. Wet, warm, languid, his tongue swept out to taste her. The rough texture of his taste buds rasped across her belly as he moved lower. She spasmed uncontrollably.

He backed down the bed on hands and knees as his tongue swirled lower. It was becoming harder to obey his dictate and keep her arms still. She wanted to touch him, to clutch at his shoulders as he drove her mad with his lips.

One firm hand parted her thighs, and he kissed the inside of her leg tantalizingly close to her throbbing clit. He burrowed his fingers into her curls and stroked down the seam of her folds, coaxing them apart until she was bared to his touch and to his gaze.

He lowered his head, and she closed her eyes in anticipation of feeling his tongue on her most sensitive parts. He blew gently over her slit, and her groin muscles clenched in response.

She felt hot, needy, restless, like a snake ready to shed its skin. Her blood danced in her veins to a frantic rhythm in tune with the song he played with her body.

“Please,” she whispered. “I want your mouth on me.”

His tongue flicked out over her clit sending a red hot bolt of flame spearing through her abdomen. Her nipples puckered. Her breasts plumped and swelled, aching with need.

His fingers further parted her folds, and he gently sucked the sensitive nub into his mouth, holding it there while he licked it repeatedly with the tip of his tongue.

The constant state of anticipation coupled with her heightened arousal was too much. Her orgasm flashed upon her with the speed of a bullet. One moment she was poised on the precipice of a canyon. The next she was doing a swan dive over the edge, feeling the rush of exhilaration as the world raced by.

Just before she hit the ground, she slowed. The world blurred around her, and she floated like a feather, blowing with the wind, drifting down to rest in the arms of her lover.

She opened her eyes to see Wes looking at her. His hands were planted on either side of her shoulders, and he used his knees to nudge her thighs farther apart.

Had she been so insensible? How had he gotten the condom on and positioned himself between her legs so quickly?

He smiled at her obvious confusion then leaned down to kiss her. “Enjoy yourself?” he murmured.

She stretched, arching her body and allowing the deep-seated contentment to invade the rest of her body. “If I enjoyed myself any more, I’m not sure I’d survive,” she whispered as she reached for him.

As she wrapped her arms around him, she realized she wasn’t supposed to have moved them. She started to withdraw, but he caught her elbow in his hand and held her there.

“No, I like it when you hold on to me,” he whispered back.

She let her fingers wander back over the bunched muscles above his shoulder blades then down to the small of his back as he shifted his hips in preparation.

With a gentle nudge, he was inside her. She sucked in her breath at the exquisite fullness. Slowly, patiently, he allowed her to adjust to his size then inched forward, burying himself in her body bit by bit.

A line across his forehead attested to what his patience was costing him. His jaw set in a firm position, and he took deep, steadying breaths.

She withdrew one hand from his back and feathered it across his brow, wanting to ease the tension etched there.

“Ride with me,” she whispered. “Come with me. Love me.”

He groaned and dropped his forehead to hers. The position was tender and intimate and allowed their lips to dance back and forth in playful harmony.

Soft smooching sounds filled the air to mingle with the soft smack of his hips against the backs of her legs. Their lovemaking was unhurried, measured. Instead of feeling like she was racing down the side of a mountain, she felt as though they were lying on a warm beach, the surf lapping gently at their bodies.

Mellow, like jazz on a hot summer night. Soft, like the whisper of a spring breeze at the back of your neck. Aching, like the yearning of young love.

She floated on the waves of something truly wonderful, a feeling of completion like she’d never known lulling her, enveloping her, holding her tight.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and she shut them, holding them back, not understanding their presence. All the longing of youth, of that night when she was sixteen came back on the wings of a bittersweet memory.

It was the same yet different. They were the same people yet older, mature, no longer desperate to grasp the trappings of adulthood. That they could revisit, redo, was a chance most never got.

She opened her eyes again and stroked his cheek with her hand. He closed his eyes now and nuzzled into her palm, kissing the inside.

Their bodies rocked as he moved between her legs. Her release built not as an unbearable explosion but as a gradual swirl. Like a hand dipped into a pool of water. The ripples started small then grew bigger, rolling across the surface.

Wave after wave of sweet pleasure rolled across her as he gathered her in his arms, murmuring endearments in her ear. His entire body went rigid as he thrust once more then held himself against her as a great shudder worked its way over his body.

He eased down on her, his muscles still quivering against her. The warm, comforting weight of his body was the perfect conclusion to their lovemaking. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him closer. When he tried to pull away, she murmured her protest in his ear.

“Let me clean up,” he whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

She reluctantly let him go, and as soon as he left her, she regretted that loss of intimacy. A few seconds later, he crawled back onto the bed and pulled her into his arms.

She snuggled closer, pillowing her head on his arm. His free hand drifted down her body, stopping to rest on her hip. He stroked her skin

for a moment then traced a path back up her side until he reached her shoulder. There, he fingered the strands of her hair, gently pulling them back.

“Get some rest,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her hair. “I want us to have fun tomorrow.”

She smiled against his chest and sighed in contentment. He reached down to retrieve the covers that lay in disarray. When he’d tucked the comforter snugly around them, he wrapped his arm around her and laid his head on the pillow beside her.

It wouldn’t take her long to fall asleep. But as her eyelids fluttered closed, her last conscious thought was that she already dreaded spending the week ahead without him. And they’d only just started the weekend.

Chapter Ten

Wes’s heart did a funny little two-step in his chest as he watched Payton throw her head back and smile as a ray of sunshine hit her full in the face.