Closer to My Heart (11 page)

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” he sing-songed.

Nothing. Lucas was met with total silence. He grinned. She
was
playing with him. How long had it been since he laughed and played? “Jay-
nie
.”

“In here,” she said from around the corner. Her voice was feint, from far away. Lucas looked at the Ziro clock on the wall next to the stone fireplace. Two thirty. The sun had moved to the other side of the house, shifting the shadows around inside the comfortably decorated living room. The cranberry linen drapes were tied back from the middle, falling gracefully to brush the hardwood floors. He looked to the front door, which was solid Oak on the lower half and a Mission-style stained glass collage on the upper half that Jane said was made by her friend Annie—the Brazilian-waxing lesbian who also cut Jane’s hair.

He locked the deadbolt and went to join the hunt. He noticed her shirt draped over the back of the couch. He picked it up and held it to his face. God, she smelled so good. Like outside and sunshine and flowers and hot, sexy woman. Her shorts were tossed on the high-back wooden bench that maintained its vigil in the wide hallway leading to the bedroom. He picked those up and balled them in his hand with the shirt.

“Janie, I’m coming to get you,” he taunted. The next thing he saw was a lacy, flimsy lavender demi-cup bra hanging on the antique glass doorknob. He smelled that, too. He felt like such a pervert. A shudder wracked his big body.

Still, she remained silent in her room.

Lucas was losing patience so he yanked open the door and prepared to thunder his way into the room and claim his treasure. But he stopped short inside the door as soon as he caught a glimpse of the Hydrangea petals scattered along the floor and on the citrus colored bedspread. His breath lodged in his throat. She had been busy, and she had created a beautiful, seductive oasis within her warm, welcoming home. For him.

Actually, for the two of them. He felt humbled.

He looked around the room and still couldn’t find his mark. She’d pulled the blinds closed over the four windows so that the filtered sunlight was soft and romantic. It wasn’t pitch black, but the heavy fabric blocked most of the light. He took a few more steps into the room and caught a bright swatch of color that let him zero in on Jane—finally. He dropped the collected clothes on the floor by his planted feet. “Oh, Jane,” he whispered reverently.

The final piece of clothing, an obscenely miniscule scrap of a thong that matched the lavender bra, hung by the string on Jane’s right ankle. Her leg was crossed and she dangled the panties like a carrot. He lunged and caught her foot, holding it still. He slipped the panties off her ankle and held them to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“Jesus Christ,” he growled lowly. “You’re driving me fucking crazy. I’ve had enough!” He yanked her legs open and started to pull her to the edge of the plush wingback chair she was sitting in, but she yelled, “Wait!” and scrambled back from him..

He dropped to his knees in front of her and let her go. He reached for her knees and ran his large, callused palms down her shins to check for anything that may be making her uncomfortable. “What’s wrong?” he asked between clenched teeth. His fierce arousal was causing his brain to short out.

Jane placed her foot flat against Luke’s sternum and pushed lightly. Since his weight was a bit unbalanced, he toppled right over, making her giggle.

“I said wait. I don’t want you to pull me to the edge.” She was back to blushing.

Luke looked confused, but as he opened his mouth to ask what the heck she meant Jane leisurely placed her foot on his shoulder. Her thighs splayed wide open…Luke’s gaze zeroed in on her hot, moist core and he groaned. And his breathing grew heavier until he was panting.

“Luuke,” she moaned.

“Huh?” he asked dumbly. Jane shifted in the seat so that she could rest her other leg over the arm of the chair and her bottom could hang over the edge by an inch or so.

“Can you to do something for me?” She whispered softly so he had to lean towards the chair to hear her better. He turned to rest on his hands and knees and her foot glided over his body to rest on his back, her knee notched over his shoulder. His breath was warm and moist on the inside of her left knee and he pressed a sweet, butterfly kiss on the tender skin there. But other than that, he was a good boy. His eyes were rather wild and his body was nearly vibrating, but he was a good boy.

She lifted her mane of beautiful, soft hair off her neck and pushed it behind her shoulders and his fervent gaze watched every move she made. That she could hold him enthrall emboldened her…so she pushed her luck. At first she had planned to just stall him to make the anticipation build. But his gaze was so steady and hopeful that she couldn’t resist pushing him beyond his limits. She palmed her breasts gently and when she opened her eyes to lock Lucas in her gaze, she brushed her fingertips over her tight, raspberry red nipples and pinched lightly before moving her hands down to her ribcage. She moaned.

Lucas swallowed audibly and sat back on his heels to watch the show. He breathed through his nose, and his nostrils flared in recognition of her scent. The hollows of his cheeks were flushed a deep red with his arousal. His hands were tightly gripping his thighs, whether it gave him an anchor for his riotous hormones or it kept him from reaching for her, Jane didn’t know. His huge phallus stuck out in front of him like a club and was so erect that it pointed almost to the ceiling. It was flushed a deeper red than his face and his skin looked like it was stretched so tightly that it would pop. And that’s what Jane was aiming for. The longer she stared, the larger it grew.

“Goddamn!” he shouted when one hand continued down to cup her mound and the other moved back up to play with her nipples. Goosebumps raced across her heated flesh.

“Jane,” he growled. “We’ve got to do this now!” he said, rising on his knees to move towards her.

“Uh, uh, uh, Lucas. That’s not what I want right now.” Jane tsked.

“Then what the fuck do you want!” His gaze was glued to the fingers on her right hand, which had separated the swollen folds of her labia so that her longest middle finger could dip inside. Her hips moved in counter motion to her playful fingers. He could tell she was turned on, but not fully ramped up by the way her hips still moved in a regular, smooth rhythm.

“Bu—back up.” She struggled to form the words; the combination of having to talk and choreograph this scene was stretching her nerves tighter and tighter. She was losing control.

She cleared her throat. “Against the bed if you need something at your back.” Her middle finger moved steadily in and out of her vagina. Lucas stared at her finger for a second before he shook his head and moved to comply. His hands were fisted at his sides, resting on the cool hardwood floors beneath his incendiary body. When he was as comfortable as he could get he nodded. And he licked his lips, a couple of times.

“Now, take yourself in hand,” she whispered.

She waited for him to grasp his beautiful, spectacular cock with his large, sexy hand. Every muscle in his body was flexed in an effort to control himself, but she enjoyed the play of veins in his hand and forearm as it held the focused anatomy of her attention. And she appreciated his hard won restraint. Again, he nodded.

“Now, come for me,” she said simply.

“Jane—” he said in warning. He had a death grip on his dick and it stood out in stark purple against the tanned flesh of his fist.

But the sight of Lucas stroking himself set Jane off in her own sexual haze and she couldn’t answer him. She stared at his hand as it moved up and down the impressive length of his shaft, gaining momentum with his increased arousal. He noticed her stare and turned his body so that she would have an unobstructed view of his cock and balls, and his pumping hand.
 
He spread his feet apart.

She whimpered as she increased the pace of her own hand, and even added a second finger to the mix. Her hips moved in time with her hand. After two or three minutes they were both breathing so hard and so fast that Lucas thought one of them would surely pass out. A beautiful scarlet flush painted Jane’s cheeks and the tops of her breasts. She had scooted her body all the way to the edge of the seat and planted both feet on the ground.

“Lucas,” she whimpered. He lifted his gaze from the furiously moving hand he envied to her startlingly beautiful face. She faced the ceiling, her eyes were closed, and she was pumping her fingers in and out of her tight channel. And when she came she shouted and pitched forward towards Lucas.

“Fuck!” Lucas shouted when she fell out of the chair. He was so close to coming—the sight of her making herself come was the final key to his own release—but he couldn’t let her fall on her face. He let go of his dick and lunged just in time to catch her shoulders before she hit the floor.

She shook all over, and her teeth chattered. “Oh, I’m sorry … you didn’t, uh, you know.”

He smirked and said, “I didn’t finish.”

She nodded and he said, “I will.”

With that, he gathered her closely against his body and stood up. He took a couple steps and sat in the wingback chair, then set about settling her long, trim legs astride him.

His heart was racing. His torso was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and the scent of his arousal drifted into her nose and grabbed her brain. It was a proof of life, a proof that her brain was finally catching up to what her heart already knew. She was falling in love with this man with the sadness and longing in his eyes and the gentleness in his heart.

He closed his arms around her and held her close to his body, and kissed her reverently on the forehead. She stilled for a few moments to enjoy the embrace.
When was the last time anybody hugged you
, she thought. Everything about Lucas called to her. But would he let her love him?

The heat pouring off his body in waves was drugging, but she roused herself enough to lean back.

“You didn’t come,” she said softly.

“Yeah, I’ll live,” he said wryly. “The night’s still young. You’re not getting off that easily.” He squeezed her affectionately to let her know he wasn’t angry. “I couldn’t let you fall, baby.”

Jane smiled at him and leaned in to place a sweet, loving kiss on his mouth. She kept her mouth closed and the contact brief, but it was no less passionate or full of emotion as the drugging kisses he normally laid on her.

She scooted backwards off his lap and slid down to the floor. When he leaned forward to follow her, she pressed her small hand to the dip in the center of his sternum. She grinned evilly and before he knew it, she had spread his knees and moved in between his thighs.

Just like that, his erection was close to popping once again and he was struggling for breath like a racehorse. He knew what she was going to do and the waiting was surely going to give him a heart attack.

He didn’t wait long. She stared at his sex with open admiration. Her hands rubbed the insides of his thighs with butterfly soft caresses.

“You have the most beautiful penis.”

God, he almost choked. “Thanks,” he said, blushing.

She moved one hand to cradle the heavy weight of his testicles, which had drawn up tight against his body instead of dangling loose and low like they normally did. His shaft swelled even larger, spilling out beyond the small circumference of her fingers. She squeezed gently and smiled when he gasped.