Cajun Vacation (23 page)

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Authors: Mindi Winters

Tags: #road trip, #vacation, #weekend getaway, #erotic, #new orleans, #workplace, #Sisters

BOOK: Cajun Vacation
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“So where should we go now?” he asked. He slid up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands resting on her stomach. She imagined what it would be like if he dropped his hand just a few inches and then pressed her back against him. She turned her head so her neck was exposed, and he planted a kiss. Her skin heated up, and blood rushed down between her legs. He broke his embrace, his hands brushing up against the bottom of her breasts and he backed away. She wondered if he even realized how suggestive he had just been. Or if he had done it without thinking.

“I’ve seen enough here, if you want to get the rest of your plans started. Where did you want to take me?” She hoped back to his place, but she doubted it.

“We’ll start over in the…” He never finished.

A shrill voice shot out nearby them. “You bastard.”

Peter’s face drained of color and she looked around for the speaker. A beautiful, blonde woman in a yellow sun dress that highlighted all the right places stormed toward them. She recognized the anger in the woman’s face, and her stomach dropped. There was a history between her and Peter, and she wondered if anything he had told her about refraining from sex had been true. The crowd awkwardly stepped aside with most people trying to avoid looking and others openly gawking at the oncoming confrontation.

The woman looked her over once before sneering and rounding on Peter. His face had gone completely gray, and Alicia braced herself for whatever revelation about Peter that she knew was about to come out.

“What are you doing, Kelly?” asked Peter. “We’re not going out anymore.”

Kelly placed a hand on her hip. “What am I doing? She moved within inches of Peter’s face. “We broke up less than twenty-four hours ago, and now you’re out in public, pawing over another woman.”

Alicia thought she saw some spittle fly from the woman’s mouth onto Peter’s clothes. She took a step away from the two of them, but her eyes stayed firmly on Peter.

Men lie
.

The admonition repeated over and over in her head. She had let Peter work his way into her heart partly by his story of loss, but she wondered how much of it was true. At his apartment she hadn’t seen any photos of his allegedly late wife. Maybe he made it all up in some sort of scheme to lure women into something more than just sex. She stopped at the thought. What more would a man want? Most players, lied to get the woman to bed, but she had offered that upfront with Peter.

The crowd around them had grown slightly, a few of the men looked both her and Kelly over, but no one seemed inclined to step in.

Peter looked around. “You’re making a scene,” he said.

Kelly made a dismissive sound. “Am I ruining your chances with the new girl?” she asked. “Did you give her that same BS story about being celibate to hide the fact that you’re gay? Or did you decide to do her and give yourself some more cover to say you’re straight?” She stepped back and threw her hands up. “Whatever. I don’t care. I wasted enough time with you. My friends told me to watch out when we started going out. I should have listened.”

Kelly spun around to face her. “You better watch out for that one, he plays on the wrong side of the field.” Then she turned and headed off. Alicia felt like she’d been hit in the gut. She expected to learn something bad about Peter, and his extremely recent breakup bothered her, but his being gay wasn’t a fact she expected to discover. Was it true or just the spiteful comment of a jilted girlfriend?

“That was interesting,” she said. “Anything you have to tell me?”

Some color returned to Peter’s face, but his eyes betrayed his worry. “We dated for a couple months and she’s mad that I never slept with her. That’s all,” he said. “You have to believe me.”

The high emotion of the encounter affected her more than she wanted to admit. She studied Peter’s expression while she tried to calm her own nerves. Awkward encounters, usually goodbyes, were nothing new to her. But this felt different. The last bit of her restraint crumbled. “Prove it,” she said.

Peter blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m calling a cab right now, unless you prove to me you’re not gay.”

The gawkers had dispersed, but a healthy crowed continued moving around the area. Peter’s eyes darted between all the nearby people. He straightened his shoulders and leaned in.

“Not like that,” she said, putting her hand up in front of his face. “You’ve already kissed me.” She stepped back.

His face went from certainty that he could get past her demands easily to worry in less than a second. She almost felt sorry for him as she watched him bite down hard on his lower lip. She wondered what kind of calculations were going through his head. Did he want her enough to finally take her? Or would he let her walk away? She had ignored the possibility, that if he called her bluff to leave, that she might not be strong enough to go through with it.

The tension between her legs grew at the prospect that she’d finally have him. Images of his lowering her onto his bed filled her thoughts. Her stomach muscles tensed in anticipation of his first thrust. The sun shined bright, but the beads of sweat formed on her brow weren’t from the afternoon heat. If Peter noticed, he might realize that she could never say goodbye.

He grabbed her by the hand. Raw, unrestrained energy flowed from him and throughout her body. Her nipples hardened and pressed against the fabric of her dress, while a dampness spread between her legs.

“Follow me,” he said. His voice had dropped low with a rumble of need that caused her heart to skip a beat.

Finally
.

The word rang through her head. They were going to be together. A conflicting sense of triumph and disappointment filled her. He navigated throughout the crowds and pulled her along behind him. She started a turn to the parking lot and some waiting cabs, but he jerked her to another path on the right.

They were closer to making love then she imagined, and excitement shot straight down into her pussy at the accelerated timing. The path led away from the festivities through a wooded area. The sounds of the crowd faded behind them with only the occasional bicycle or jogger appearing. When the path cleared, Peter quickly glanced behind them before pulling her off the path and into the trees. All evidence of the path disappeared through the foliage and he stopped behind the trunk of a large fallen tree.

He stripped off his shirt, knelt, and lay it onto the ground so it formed a small blanketed area. Then he placed both of his hands on her waist and she dropped to her knees in front of him. The linked arms, hand holding, and accompanying feelings from earlier of having a no-expectations, sweet afternoon together, were gone. Like the stone of an overflowing dam shaking before it burst, she felt tremors in his body flowing through his hand. How he had abstained from sex when he craved it so deeply, amazed her.

In a swift motion she lifted her dress up over her head and tossed it to the side. His hands moved behind her back to unclasp her bra while she ran her fingers across the muscles in his chest. The image she had nurtured of how he looked undressed underestimated the reality of his toned body. Peter didn’t have the muscle-clad physique of a weightlifter, but instead possessed the lean, athletic build of a man, who made the outdoors his work.

Her breathing became more ragged as she touched him. Sunlight filtered through the trees, the light radiating off his skin. The fire inside her belly dropped lower. Her nipples were tender and begging to be touched, licked, and bitten. The vee between her legs continued to seep moisture. If he took her panties off now, she’d be ready to take him into her. She didn’t need any foreplay or gentle warm-up. Just the firm, hard length of his shaft piercing her.

Peter finished with her bra and dropped it. Then he pushed her down to the ground, her head resting on his shirt. Lust filled his eyes as his hands cusped her breasts. A moan escaped her lips at this first touch. Peter dipped his hand down to kiss the pale flesh around her nipples. She wrapped her hands around his head, trying to move his mouth over her tight buds, but he refused to be led.

Instead he steadied himself on his left forearm and kept kissing slow circles around the areola of her right breast. With his free hand, he took her other breast and began kneading and pinching her flesh. She arched her back so he could take more of her into her mouth and he rewarded her by raking her nipple over his teeth.

“Peter.” The sensations ricocheted throughout her body as she moaned out his name in approval. She had had her breasts sucked before, but whereas other men left her without her feeling any real sensation, Peter drove her mindless with desire. What would happen to her when he moved down to her heat or thrust into her? Even better, would be if he used his mouth to work its magic.

He slipped his hand off her left breast and moved it to the fabric covering her pussy at the same time that she moved her hands to cup his cock through his jeans. “Touch me,” she said, her breath coming in rasps. Then she did a slight move with her hips as she squeezed the bulge in his jeans.

His hand slipped under the edges of her panties to caress the top of her mound. The desire that she had built up for Peter over the last day and a half had become like the tension in a spring about to explode. He had barely begun to touch her, yet her body wavered on a precipice of intense pleasure that she know would come if his fingers moved down only a little more. His fingers were so close to her clit that she tried adjusting her hips. One touch would send her over the edge that her body stood on.

Peter reacted more quickly. He moved his hand back to her belly and pushed her hips firmly down to the ground. He lifted his head from her breast. “No,” he said, the rumble of his voice echoing in her chest like a drum.

“Please,” she said. She scarcely recognized the voice dripping with need, begging to be touched. In sex, she always called the shots. She teased her lovers until they, in their unceasing goal for an orgasm, lost control and pleaded, begged, or simply mounted her without thought. When a man took her roughly and thought they were acting strong and masculine; she secretly scorned them for being nothing more than a human jackhammer.

Now she was pleading. It was one more thing that Peter had done to change her, and get into her soul. She wondered what he would do with the power she had given him. She didn’t wait to find out. Her hands fumbled with his belt until his cock sprang free and she clasped it with both hands. Her head still lay on the ground so she couldn’t see the prize that she had freed, but her hands felt its size. She stroked her hands up its length, one hand after the other until the first drop of his pre-cum dripped out and onto her belly.

She ran her fingers across the head of his cock, and then brought them up to her lips so she could taste him. His eyes darkened when he realized what she intended, and she spread her legs to wrap them around his waist. Her tongue leapt from her mouth to clean her fingers off and the salty, sweet taste of him rushed straight to her senses until she let out a sigh.

Before they said goodbye, she had to take him fully into her mouth. Peter was wavering on his own edge. One that he’d been growing and standing on for two years without sex. However much sex she wanted to have today, he’d be up for it all. They’d never have time to do everything she wanted to do before they parted, but she pushed that thought aside for her desire of the moment.

With the hand she pulled her panties to the side, while the other went straight back to his cock to guide it in front of her opening. The edge she felt was too sharp, the unfulfilled need too deep. She needed him now.

He made a weak attempt to pull away, but her legs wrapped strongly around waist and she wouldn’t let go.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked, her voice dripping with anticipation.

“Not so quick,” he said.

“Fuck me. Now,” she said. “Unless you really are gay.” She dripped her final words with as much sarcasm as she could muster in her hyper-excited state. It had the desired effect. A fury crossed his face and passed quickly. Then his eyes flared such intense lust that she braced her body to meet his thrust.

With a swift motion he surged inside her with a deep, rumbling growl. His girth stretched her beyond expectation and she felt the barrier holding back her own orgasm begin to buckle. “Don’t stop, Peter. Please.” Her hands shifted to his back, pulling him in closer just as he pulled out slightly before plunging back down.

Both of their bodies began shaking as they bucked into each other. She met his every thrust with a rise of her hips. Everything crashed around them moments later. A rumble within Peter passed to her and they both broke apart. Her hands went to her mouth to stifle a scream, but Peter let out a roar so loud that she knew people would come to investigate. Peter bucked into her, each thrust emptying more of his seed.

Strands of thought tried to come together to tell her something important, but she became lost in the aftershocks of her own orgasm. Another wave of pleasure swept over her and she locked her legs together behind Peter’s back to pull him in deeper. His own thrusting had stopped, but his body shook. He tilted his head to sweep his tongue into her mouth, their lips locking.

The taste of him, the feel of him inside her continued to short-circuit her thoughts. An orgasm so quickly usually meant unsatisfactory sex, and any other man would have left her wanting. If she hadn’t taunted him, Peter probably would have prolonged their lovemaking with foreplay that drove her to an ever greater high. But she had pushed him over the edge, and he took her with all the unfulfilled need his body had accumulated over two years of celibacy. As quickly as their orgasms came, it was over, yet she lay on the ground under him drenched in sweat as if they had made love for hours.

Her breathing steadied and she inhaled deeply when Peter broke off the kiss to rest his head on her shoulder. A breeze blew through the trees, and her skin instantly chilled from all the moisture that covered her. Peter pulled out of her, and she took his head into her hands. The raw lust that consumed him had faded. His eyes still burned with desire, but the ragged edges of his need had smoothed away and revealed another emotion.
Love?
Her heart wanted to burst from her chest, but the alarms in her head broke through and blared away their warnings. Something had changed, plus the nagging sense that she had forgotten something grew, but she couldn’t think of anything.

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