Consumed by a Stranger (Craved Series #4) (9 page)

It
took a little bit of wriggling so that we could both fit in my bathtub, and
even then Jack couldn't quite stretch his legs out in front of him. 

But
he swore he was comfortable so I faced away from him, leaned back against his
chest, and hung my wrists on his knees. 

I
was no stranger to drinking wine in the tub, though it was normally something I
only did when I was depressed.

I
liked how dark my bathroom could get and the fact that I could slide under the
surface and hold my breath, forcing my mind to forget whatever was worrying
me. 

But
I didn't want my senses dulled in this situation. I wanted them sharp. I wanted
to remember what it felt like to lay against Jack's wet chest, my body rising
and falling with his breath. 

It
was another first in a night of many.

I
did have sex in a shower stall once during college, but the water wasn't even
running. The guy and I just both had roommates we weren't crazy about at the
time.

I
couldn't even remember his last name. Meanwhile, not only was I never going to
forget Jack's last name, but it was the first one I'd thought of extensively in
a long time. 

To
be honest, I wasn't sure if I liked the whole "taking of the man's last
name" tradition, but if I ever did have to change mine, Quinn wasn’t too
bad. It was actually a nicer name than my own. I mean, Lawrence was okay, but
it wasn't especially interesting or strong. 

Of
course, I hadn’t daydreamed about that stuff since I was in third grade, and it
was as pointless now as it was then.

I
mean, how was I feasibly going to date a rich guy who lived on the other side
of the world? I wasn't exactly broke, but it would be impossible to hide the
fact that I didn’t have the disposable necessary for a jet setting lifestyle.

Plus,
I didn't want to be taken care of. I’d settle for learning how to take better
care of myself. Then again, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe being cared for
wasn’t always synonymous with helplessness and dependence.

Hadn't
Jack already proven to me that it was possible for him to take care of me
without suffocating me or throwing money at my problems? Perhaps I could handle
his special brand of affection without sacrificing my independence.

But
overcoming the geographical distance between us seemed an insurmountable task.
I mean, when we were together, we were so together it was intoxicating. But I
don’t know how secure I would feel being so far out of his sight if it meant I
risked also being out of his mind.

I
didn't want a boyfriend that far away. Shit, sometimes I didn't even think I
wanted a boyfriend period.

But
I did want Jack. I wanted every inch of him and all his attention. He gave me
that same greedy feeling I got when I knew I was going to be home all night
with a pint of Ben & Jerry's without the associated guilt. 

It
was sort of a ravenous crazed feeling, and I was starting to worry that if we
couldn't make it work, there would be a lot of sad baths in my future.

"Would
you mind turning the water on?" Jack asked, his voice saving me from my impractical
thought loop. 

"Sure,"
I said, leaning forward and looking around to make sure the detachable showerhead
wasn't somewhere it would make a mess. 

"It's
cool," he said. "I've got it."

I
turned the water on a low warm setting, figuring he just wanted to top up the
heat. 

And
I guess I was right because as soon as I leaned back against him, he reached up
and cupped my breast, kneading it in his large hand.

It
felt good to have him touching me again, and I let my head fall to the side.

A
moment later, he lowered his lips to my neck and began kissing the length of
it.

Between
the wine and the temperature of the bath, I was feeling deliciously
lightheaded. 

And
when he reached the showerhead between my legs so he could massage my clit with
the soft jets, I moaned and slid a hand behind his neck, closing my eyes
and wishing he would never stop.

She
reacted just the way I was hoping she would. 

As
I moved the jets against her clit, she stayed still, holding her breath until I
gave her a little break. Then I'd press the showerhead against her again,
watching her face flush with pleasure. 

With
my other hand full of tit, there was nothing I could do to hide the fact that pleasuring
her was making me hard again.

"I
thought you'd had enough tonight?" she asked. 

"So
did I," I said. "But you do something to me, Audrey. And whatever it
is, I guess it doesn't go away when you're naked with me in the tub."

"Go
figure."

"But
I just want you to relax this time," I said. "You won't have to lift
a finger."

"Just
a dick?"

"Which
you've already done."

"I
know," she said. "I can feel you against my back."

"That's
not the only place you're going to feel me."

She
sighed, tilting her hips towards the nozzle in my hands. "Why am I not
surprised?"

"Maybe
you're getting used to my surprises."

"Never,"
she said, squirming against my chest. 

I
slid my hand down her stomach, stopping when I reached between her legs so I
could tease her with my hand as well as the nozzle. 

"Oh
god," she said, digging her fingertips into my knees. 

"I
want to make you come again," I said. "Just like this. Right into my
hands."

She
inhaled sharply. "That feels so good," she said. "How did you
even think to do that?"

"Cause
all I do is think of ways to make you feel good." I crushed her clit
across her opening, hoping it would help make her ready for me so I could take
her as soon as she came. 

"I'm
actually starting to believe that," she said, sliding her ass back so my
dick was stiff between us. 

"Don't
stop," she said. "Right there."

I
looked down her wet chest and focused on bringing her to the brink. And as her
bottom lip began to quiver, I knew I had her right where I wanted her. 

A
second later, she arched her neck and tilted her head towards the ceiling as her
lashes fluttered and my name tumbled from her lips. 

It
felt like she would've shattered if I hadn't been holding her in my arms as her
orgasm coursed through her, but I wouldn’t have let go of her for anything.

Instead,
I waited until she caught her breath and dropped her head again before pinning the
showerhead to the side of the tub with my thigh and sliding my hands under her
ass.

Then
I lifted her up and lowered her straight onto my dick as her hands fumbled for
the sides of the tub. 

She
let out a little whimper at first since the water made for a lousy lubricant.
But as soon as my head pushed past her slit, I was able to slide right in,
letting gravity drop her to the base of my cock. 

She
felt so tight with her legs out in front of her that I couldn't stifle the
growl that bubbled up from the bottom of my throat. 

"Oh
god," she breathed. "You feel so good."

"So
do you," I said, putting my hands on her hips so I could rock her forwards
and back, milking my dick with her gorgeous body.

She
moved as easily as a rag doll and as my desire for her grew, the water sloshed
faster around us in the tub. Soon, her pussy was sucking me so hard I
didn't even notice her reach for the showerhead. 

Until
I felt the warm jets against my balls. 

"You
like that?" Audrey asked, fondling my balls with one hand and moving the
jets against them with the other. 

"Fuck
me," I breathed, sinking my fingertips into her hips. I'd never felt so
overwhelmed. The combination of the jets, her delicate fingers, and her pussy
clenching around my throbbing cock was more than my body could take. "I'm
gonna come," I said, rocking her so fast water splashed up around
us. 

A
moment later, I groaned and pulled her down on me, pumping her full of
everything I had while she kneaded my taint with her fingertips.

When
I finally stopped coming, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her towards
me, laying my face against her back while I relished the feeling of being
inside her. "Where'd you fucking learn to do that?"

She
looked over her shoulder at me, her face glowing. "All I do is think of
ways to make you feel good."

I
smiled. “Well your creativity is just one of the things I fucking love about
you." I leaned forward and kissed her. The angle was awkward, but as there
was no part of her I didn't want to kiss, it didn't matter whether I landed
squarely on her lips or not. 

"That
was nice," she said, planting her hands on the side of the tub so she
could lift her body off me. 

"Yeah,"
I said. "We should do it again sometime."

She
laughed and spun around, wedging her feet behind me and scooting into the space
between my legs. "I think that's the first bath I've ever taken where I
actually felt dirtier at the end of it than I did at the beginning."

"I'm
glad."

"You
are?"

"Sure,
why not? That fits right in with our evening of firsts," I said.
"Plus, I’m sure that was way more fun than the foam party we could've
had."

"I
like your thinking," she said, reaching for the washcloth next to my wine.
"Of course, we could always have that foam party now."

"A
suppose some soap might be a nice addition to the bath," I said. "Not
that it will do anything to fix a woman as filthy as you."

"Me?!"
she said. "You're the filthy one."

"Am
I?"

"Absolutely,"
she said. "I'm merely a victim of your sexual desires."

"A
willing victim though."

"True,"
she said, pouring some body wash over the washcloth. 

I
watched as she worked it into a lather. Then she laid the soapy cloth on my chest,
moving it in little circles over my shoulders and down my arms.

"You
know what, Jack?"

"What?"

"Never
mind," she said, shaking her head. 

"No,
go on," I said. "I’m listening.”

She
sighed. "I can't decide if you're the best thing that's ever happened to
me or the worst."

I
raised my eyebrows. "How could I be the worst?"

"Because
now that I know how much fun you are to be with, I'm afraid I could never be
happy with anyone else."

I
stared at her face while she washed me. Her focus was unchanged, but I thought
I detected a hint of sadness behind her expression. 

"Audrey?"

"What?"
she asked, stopping to look at me. 

"I
know what you mean."

"You
do?" 

I
nodded. "Yeah," I said, laying a hand over hers in the middle of my
chest. "I feel exactly the same way."