Calculated Exposure (12 page)

“Eager, darlin’?” he said through clenched teeth when she tightened her fingers around his shaft.

“Mm-hmm.” She squeezed all the way to the end, pausing there to feel his slick head and cover his cock with his own lubricant. It was so smooth, so satiny, and…

No, she wouldn’t.

She cleared her throat. “By the way, I don’t do fellatio.”

“Hmm?” He wrapped his fist around her loose hair to pull her head back, and immediately went to work teasing her flesh with his teeth. He bit, licked, kissed down her neck to the tender place at the juncture of her shoulder, and she damned near lost control.

With his strong grip around her waist and his clutch of her hair, she felt utterly defenseless but in the best way possible. She trusted him.

Strange.

He paused his nips to whisper, “That’s a shame. If you suck cock with the same skill in which you kiss, I’m missing out.”

She felt lightheaded at his brazen words, and sucked in some air. Briefly, she considered making an exception, but the sinking feeling she experienced quickly altered that. “I…I think I know something you’d like more.”

“Oh yeah?” Now his lips skimmed over her ear, arousing the tiny hairs on her cartilage and sending ripples of pleasure into her core. “What?”

She had to swallow twice before her throat was able to form the words. “Me on your face.”

She braced herself for rejection of the idea, or even ambivalence, but instead of teasing her,
mocking
her, he merely stepped out of his pants, grasped the bottom of her tank, and pulled it up.

“But I’m not going to let you lick me,” she amended as he dropped her shirt on the floor. With hands that trembled a little, she unbuttoned her shorts while his fingers tickled her back in search of her bra clasp.

“Why the hell not? I like the way you taste.”

“I could tell last night, but maybe I think you haven’t earned dessert yet tonight.”

“I see.” He pulled one tingling nipple between his teeth and let it snap back into place as he dipped his hands into the back of her panties. “I think it’d be dessert for both of us.”

Oh, God, yes it would
.

She tried to steady her breathing as his fingers parted her cheeks and nudged her panties down. Didn’t work. She was getting damn close to needing a paper bag. “Maybe I…want to be nice and wet for you so when you pull out…you can slip it real easy elsewhere.”

“Quit teasing me.” He picked her up bodily and carried her the short distance to the bed.

“I’m not teasing. I just know what I want.”

“And what do you want?”

“Bring me to the brink,
rubio
.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him close, his warm skin against hers. “Make me scream because I’m so full and need release.”

“Condom.”

“Nightstand.”

He leaned across the bed and yanked the drawer open, rummaging until he pulled out the box. He plucked out one rubber, opened it, and rolled it onto himself in less time than it would take for someone to crack the seal on a soda. The man had skills.

She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing at the moment, but really didn’t care.

He hovered over her again, wrapped her legs around his waist, and eased his cock into her without further prelude.

She exhaled slow, feeling like her body had gone boneless at the sensation of him stretching her, pleasuring her with his size. Skill hadn’t even come into play yet.

When he began rocking on his knees, thrusting in and out, she thought perhaps she’d left her body for a moment, because all she knew was ecstasy. She’d never known she had such cooperative nerve endings.

And then his torso pressed against hers, crushing her breasts under his chest as he nipped at her lips with his teeth. She felt as if he was everywhere at once. It was almost too much, but not quite. “Am I wet enough for you?” she managed when he’d given her a short respite, only to suck on her neck.

“Feels good.”

“I want it to feel great.”

“Nothing for that, darlin’. Not going to risk knocking you up.”

She swam up out of the trance-like state she’d been in and forced her eyes open. “What?” she asked, confused. They got their wires crossed somewhere.

He didn’t answer, but licked around her lips and darted his tongue into her mouth.

Her confusion dissipated as he increased his pace and deepened his thrusts.

“Oh my God.”

“Hang in there, darlin’, we’ll finish together.”

“I…” She was going to say
can’t
, but it was obvious. She started bucking beneath him, her sex clamping his rock-hard shaft like a vice as she clawed his back.

He was there, too. His fingers digging into the fleshy part of her ass and the clench of his teeth gave him away.

When he pulled out with an excruciatingly slow retraction, her sex was still spasming, wanting to be filled.

As if he was psychically tuned in to her continued arousal, he eased backward and lowered his face to where her thighs joined. First a flick of his tongue, followed by the grazing of his teeth on her clit. Now, she bunched the bedspread with her fists and curled her toes, panting, fearing any further stimulation would bring pain rather than pleasure.

But then he let up and she could breathe.

His tongue made zig-zags down her slit to the tight skin beyond. He didn’t stop there, and even added a hand to the mix. While the press of his thumb on her clit distracted her, his tongue probed the rim of her anus.

Oh, that’s not bad
.

Then he forced the tip of his tongue into it.

She clenched.

Okay. Bad idea. He’ll figure out I haven’t done this. Is there an ass cherry?

He gave the valley between her cheeks another long lick, then turned her over.

Before she could express any objection to the matter, he raised her rear end up to him and parted her cheeks with his hands.

Suddenly, she felt a lot less brave. It was time to dig into that well of brazenness she’d tapped into in Ireland. She hoped it hadn’t run dry.

“How are you doing?” He dipped his fingers into her still-wet cunt and slicked the lubrication between her cheeks, massaging the tighter entrance with the pad of his thumb, then slowly pressing the digit past the first resistant barrier.

“Wonderful,” she said into the mattress.

“Good.” He withdrew his finger and gave her ass a playful smack.

Her eyes widened at the sting. It’d surprised her, but it hadn’t exactly been unwelcome. It was even…
titillating
? Yes, that. She felt her cream pooling between her legs and the only remedy for it was his cock inside her yet again. But, he couldn’t be in both places at once. How to pick?

“Curt?”

“Yes, darlin’?” His fingers mashed her clit, massaging it in concentric circles while he probed her anus deeper and deeper with the other hand.

“Put your cock in me. Please.”

“We’ll get there, if you want. Remember, I’m a technical kind of guy. I like to understand all the…” His finger pressed against something inside that made her whimper. “Bits and pieces.” Then he slipped his fingers out of her again.

When Erica looked past her shoulder at him, she found him sitting back on his heels, pinching off the spent condom. He eased himself off the bed and tossed the rubber into the trashcan. When he returned, he plucked another condom off the comforter. He studied it quietly in the dark. “How many of these do you reckon we’ll go through tonight?”

“How many are left?”

“Three.”

“Then
four
.”

He laughed that deep throaty laugh that was way too damned sexy coming from a man who crunched numbers all day and ripped the foil packet open. He had just started easing it onto himself when a thud sounded from the living room.

Fucking shit.

She lay very still, hoping she hadn’t heard what she thought she had.

Curt put one knee on the bed and placed his palms against her offered ass.

The noise came again, this time as sharp knocks in rapid succession and not just one heavy pound.

That killed the mood. She felt like she’d been on the freeway going ninety only to have some jackass pull the parking brake. Whoever it was at the door, she planned to maim them.

“Do you really need to get that?” He seemed to already know the answer as he’d already started the task of de-sheathing himself.

“Need to? No, but now that whoever it is has popped my bubble of bliss, I might as well chew them out. Excuse me.” She flicked on the bedside lamp and murmured an apology before pulling on her robe.

The idiot, whoever it was, knocked again.

“I’m coming!” she shouted, not giving a shit if she sounded shrill. The time for sexy had passed. “I’m sorry. Be right back.”

She stomped down the hall, past the kitchen and living room, and put her eye to the peephole.

I could kill this motherfucker.

She opened the door barely enough to put her face in the crack. “What are you doing here, Tate?”

Oh, she knew the answer to that. He was doing the same thing he always did when she didn’t take his calls. He was there to intimidate. Coerce. Didn’t matter if he did it with a smarmy smile on his face. The effect was the same.

“Just wanted to check on you, see if there was anything I could do to help.”

“Help with what?”

“Entertain your guest tomorrow so you can do that shoot. Can I come in?”

She gritted her teeth, and tempered her words. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not a good time.”

He narrowed his eyes and assessed what he could see of her. “Turning in so early? That’s not like you. How do you say
night owl
in Spanish?”

How about a little
fuck you
in English? “Maybe I’m still a little bit on Irish time.”

“See, you should have stayed home. All that traveling’s just confusing.”

“Right. Listen, I gotta go. I’m being really rude.”

“Don’t you want to introduce me to your guest?”

She shifted her weight and clamped her tongue between her teeth for one long moment. She wouldn’t let her mother be right. Her mouth would
not
get her trouble. At least not this time. “They’re asleep. Did a lot of traveling today. I’m sure you understand.”

Close enough to the truth, the way she saw it.

“Oh, sure, sure.” He rubbed his chin and worked his lips from left to right.

She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. He’d kissed her with those chalky things in the past, and from the looks of him he wouldn’t mind doing it again.

God, I hate myself.
“So, see you Monday.”

Tate sniffed and scraped his shirtsleeve across his nose. “Right. Uh…” He pressed a hand against the door, seeming to test it for resistance, but when it didn’t budge because of her strategically placed foot, he backed up. “Give me a call if you end up being able to go tomorrow.”

“I will.” She closed the door and threw the bolt before he could respond.

Chapter 9

“Grant, can I ask you a totally non-manly question?” Curt asked his old friend the following Thursday after he picked him up from the airport.

Grant had told Curt he thought it would be fun to stay with the guys for old time’s sake.

Curt thought Grant was an idiot. He also thought Grant should have taken up the university’s offer to put him in a hotel, but all the same he’d changed the sheets on his bed for the guy. Curt didn’t plan on being there.

“Non-manly? Should I be insulted?”

“No. I’m asking you because you’re eternally shacked up with someone. Big Red wouldn’t understand.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

“How did you know Carla was, well…”

Grant raised one black eyebrow. “Was what?”

Curt shrugged. “It.”

Grant’s eyes bulged. “What the hell are you asking me?”

Curt took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Answer it or I’ll have to find some chick to ask.”

Grant blew out a breath. “I don’t really know if that’s explainable. It’s not rocket science, but for me, it was a matter of me wanting her not wanting anyone
else
ever again.”

“That was an instantaneous sort of thing?”

“Yeah. I guess. From the moment she walked into my classroom. I was just fortunate she turned out to be the woman she is. I couldn’t imagine a better mother for my kids…and that there’d be anyone else willing to put up with Dad’s silliness.”

“Hmm.” Curt pulled the car into his usual spot in front of their favorite American pub and they both got out.

“Did you ever meet up with Erica again?” Grant pulled the heavy door open and they stepped into the dank, dim, cave of an establishment.

From across the room in a deep, boom voice came, “My Irish brethren!”

“Missed that guy.” Grant chuckled and waved at Seth in the corner.

Curt paused at the bar, ordered a pitcher of whatever Seth was having, and followed Grant through the tightly packed tables to join their friend. “That’s why I ask,” he said to the man’s back.

Grant made a smooth redirection toward the jukebox and Curt followed. Grant put his back to Seth and leaned against the machine, facing Curt, who pretended to scan the song selections.

“Explain. I’ll deny we ever had this conversation,” Grant said, drumming his fingertips on the jukebox top.

“She’s interesting. She has her own stuff going on, you know? Doesn’t beat around the bush and says what she wants. Her candor is refreshing.”

“And I suppose it doesn’t hurt she’s gorgeous, huh?”

Curt laughed. “As if I’d complain about that.”

Grant dug into his jeans pocket and dug out some coins when Curt extended his palm. “Sorry, didn’t exchange any cash. Why are you even thinking about this now?”

He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since tying his shoes that morning. “Shit, Grant. I’m sort of behind the curve here. You’re knocking on thirty-five’s door and I’m not far behind you.”

“Guys don’t have biological clocks, so I know that’s not it.”

“I don’t know what it is. I mean, at some point I want a stable home life to go with my big deal career and scads of money.” He rolled his eyes. “You can’t really have that if you’re screwing every woman in the dance department.”