Fueling Her Fire (2 page)
He’d move against her hesitantly, unsure if this was where
she wanted to go, and her belly would twist with a desire stronger than she’d ever
experienced. Fumbling with the button of her jeans, he might pause long enough
to lock eyes with her, searching for permission.
To hell with hesitation! She’d wriggle out from under him
and demand that he get naked,
now.
No, in fact, she’d peel his clothes
off under the Christmas tree herself, like a kid on Christmas morning hyped up
on cocoa and candy canes. Kip hadn’t been fucked—
really
fucked—like
she’d wanted it in a long, long time. And, damn it, this was
her
fantasy
and Dylan would be lucky if he got out it without suffering from exhaustion. He
owed her.
She’d lie back down on the warm blanket in front of the wood
stove, her nipples still hard from arousal and exposure. He’d lie so his body
met hers along the full length of her body, trailing his fingers down the
curves of her torso to her pussy. The maddening slowness of his seduction
combined with the feverish level of her need would make her tremble underneath
his fingertips.
He’d snake a finger between her moist pussy lips and dip
into her, finding her very wet for him. The penetration would make her breath
hitch and he’d groan, unable to sustain the languid seduction any longer. He’d
lift himself onto her until his erection pressed between her legs, his broad,
muscular chest at her eye level.
Bending in to kiss her, he’d look down at the juncture of
their bodies as he rubbed against her, slicking his hot length with her juices
from the rounded tip of his cock to the wide base where his balls pressed
heavily against her flushed pussy lips. He’d shut his eyes and groan low and
the deep rumble of it would send a wicked thrill through her, making her squirm
against him, demanding he fill her.
Finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the
road, Kip pressed her hand between her legs, trying to simulate the feeling of
Dylan’s erection rubbing against her anxious pussy, so hungry to have him
inside her. It wasn’t hard to conjure the fantasy—he was one of her favorite
subjects. Dylan had ignited a fire in her that no one else had come close to
sparking to life since. No matter the pain he’d caused her, the truth was that
she still craved him. She’d never wanted another man more.
Dylan Johnson
… She wanted him inside her, moving in
her, filling her up.
Fuck it.
She pulled her SUV to the side of the deserted road and
threw it in park. Falling snow enveloped the vehicle like a gauzy veil, making
her feel very alone, and she was glad for it. Praying a state trooper concerned
for her safety wouldn’t pull over and tap on her snow-covered window during her
very private activity, she quickly unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. Shoving
her hand into her panties with relief, she found hot wetness there, her clit
firm and impatient for release.
Closing her eyes and leaning her head back on her headrest,
she allowed the feelings to envelop her. Rhythmically, she massaged her fingers
into the folds of her pussy, stimulating her clit while she let herself become
lost again.
Dylan would kiss her as he moved his cock against her,
sweeping down her neck with his tongue, lifting one of her breasts so he could
close his mouth over her hard nipple. His tongue and teeth would work at her
breast’s sensitive tip and she’d moan, just like she was now, alone in her SUV.
She let the sound escape her mouth and fill the silent cab of her truck.
He’d straighten again to look at her with those beautiful
blue eyes, darkened with lust, and, without pulling his eyes from hers, he’d
tilt his body and take his cock in his hand to place the swollen head of it at
her wet entrance.
Oh god, Dylan’s cock inside me…
She’d wrap her hands around the muscles of his gorgeous,
athletic ass and pull against him, not willing to wait any longer. Knowing she
was so close to having him fully inside her again would spur her to arch up to
meet him, hoping to feel all of him. He would meet her movement with his own
and push into her.
God yes. That’s what I want.
A satisfying spasm would twist in her pelvic muscles,
rejoicing in welcoming back his firm cock, feeling so right inside her. He’d
stretch her open for him and groan, filling her up as quickly as her body would
allow him in. When he’d fully sheathed himself in her, he’d close his eyes,
braced on his elbows above her, his face a study of tenuous control as he began
a slow thrust in and out. She would eagerly hug every plunge of his thick cock.
Keeping her eyes closed so as not to derail the daydream,
Kip scrambled at the seat controls with her free hand until she succeeded in
moving her driver’s seat back, allowing her to spread her legs further. She
considered crawling into the backseat to reach the vibrator she’d packed in her
overnight bag. She’d brought her pink ribbed friend along, plus extra
batteries, fully intending to use it liberally to rediscover her suffocated
sexuality and make up for all of the orgasms she’d missed while sharing a
lukewarm bed with William. But she didn’t want to interrupt her rhythm to dig
it out of her bag, so instead she just loosened the zipper of her jeans
further, giving her busy hand more room to play.
Realizing she was holding her breath, she blew out her air
through pursed lips and let her head loll against the car’s icy window. The
cold bit against her flushed cheek and she used that too. She used every
sensation to flesh out and add dimension to her lust. And she would do that
from now on. Her sex life would be a kaleidoscope of what worked for her and
what she wanted. Right now, she wanted Dylan.
Increasing the pressure of her fingers on her clit, her
excitement grew as she imagined how greedily she and Dylan would undoubtedly
enjoy each other’s bodies. He’d make her moan in a way she hadn’t in a long
time, as she’d relish every stroke of his heavy cock. The hunger for Dylan that
had been burning for so long in her would finally be fed. He’d pump into her
like he was trying to drive through her, like he could be a part of her. And
she wanted him to be.
She imagined him whispering, “Oh god, Kip!” when he lost the
grip on his control and buried himself hard in her one last time. He’d buck as
his cock pulsed in climax and she’d ride out every wave, enjoying the sort of exquisite
satisfaction that only an orgasm born out of sating a long-suffered lust can
bring.
Kip whimpered and dropped her head forward as her muscles
suddenly tightened. She gripped the edge of her seat with her free hand,
shuddering and sighing as her ministrations finally brought her over the edge
to a beautiful and dazzling release. Squeezing her thighs together, she
relished every surge of ecstasy as the pleasure swept over her in the front
seat of her SUV.
Exhaling and catching her breath, a smile played across her
lips. Maybe Dylan had used her all those years ago, but in the years since she
had used him over and over again at her whim to satisfy her own sexual wants.
Sure, it was all in fantasy and he didn’t even know about it, but there was
some poetic justice in that, wasn’t there?
Chapter Two
Kip stretched and opened her eyes, realizing she now sat in
a dim, gray box. In the short amount of time she’d been on the side of the
road, her vehicle had been uniformly covered in a blanket of snow, which
blocked most of the in the waning light.
It must be coming down really fast.
She readjusted her seat, zipped up her jeans and turned on her windshield
wipers, knocking most of the powdery snow off her windshield and rear window in
two swipes, but she had to get out of the car to clean off the side windows.
Even with snow up past her boots, she decided the orgasm had been well worth
it. She’d needed that.
William hadn’t seemed to care whether or not she was
satisfied and whenever she had brought up something she might want to try in
bed—techniques, positions, toys—he’d always looked at her like there was
something wrong with her for wanting such things. Like civilized people
wouldn’t
want such things. She’d rarely ever had an orgasm with him and she’d resigned
herself to taking care of her ignored needs when he wasn’t around. So the first
thing she’d resolved when she’d broken up with him was to finally
get what
she wanted.
She’d narrowly avoided settling for a marriage with a
stilted and discouraging love life. She would never make that mistake again.
She knew true passion was out there, because she’d had a taste of it with
Dylan.
If Kip wanted to use toys, she was going to use toys. If she
wanted to experiment with new positions or ask for what she wanted—
in
specific detail
—well, goddamnit, it was her life. She was a sexual, vibrant
woman and she was going to find the right man to take that journey with her.
But she’d need to start the journey alone for now. Most everyone was with loved
ones and family on Christmas Eve, not out searching for a sexual soul-mate. So
when she’d woken up alone on Christmas Eve and remembered the events of the
night before, she’d decided to go to the cabin and work at rediscovering her
sexuality alone. As many times as she could.
One down and she wasn’t even to the cabin yet!
Not half
bad.
When she finished cleaning the snow off her windows she sat
sideways in her seat, her feet hanging out the open door, banging the snow off
her black, quilted winter boots. Her cell phone shrilled to life in the muffled
silence, startling her so much she nearly fell out of the truck. She dove for
it, heart pounding, hoping it was her mom, who was on a European cruise with
friends she’d met at her retirement village in Florida.
Kip had emailed her mom to let her know she was headed for
the cabin, but didn’t have any hopes for an answer given that her mom was on a
ship and probably rounding Italy right about now. Kip wasn’t supposed to be at
the cabin alone this Christmas. She was supposed to be in the Hamptons at her
ex-boyfriend’s parents’ house for the holidays, probably celebrating her and
William’s engagement. She looked at the caller ID but it wasn’t her mom, it was
the ex. Cursing, she firmly pressed ignore.
Pulling back onto the road she felt much more relaxed now
that she wasn’t so sexually wound tight. Her cell chirped, notifying her that
William had left a message—a message that would be deleted without being heard.
Asshole.
She smirked, darkly enjoying the idea that William had been
thinking about her at almost the same moment that she’d been orgasming over
X-rated fantasies of Dylan.
It wasn’t far from the norm though
, she
thought, recalling how often she’d closed her eyes and imagined being with
Dylan when she was in bed with William. She used to feel guilty about
it—thinking of one man when she was in bed with another—but now that she’d
discovered the joke William had made of their relationship, she no longer felt
guilty about anything.
Kip shifted in her seat, sitting up straighter, a vague
anxiety tweaking the pit of her stomach. There it was—the Dalton Run town
limits sign. It was getting harder to drive in the snow and a few minutes went
by before she turned onto Main Street, though it was only a half mile past the
welcome sign. She was driving slowly and carefully—she didn’t want to get stuck
out there alone in the cold.
Her cell phone chirped again. Frowning, she punched the
buttons to delete the message. Hell would freeze over before William heard from
her again. Suddenly she was in a bad mood, her post-orgasmic bliss dissolving
with the double whammy of William’s call and her entry back into the town from
her past. She couldn’t believe how fresh the hurt still felt after eight years.
Even what William had done hadn’t hurt her as badly. There’s
just something about a serious wrong done to a girl at a time when she’s
otherwise relatively whole and innocent that sears the mark of it into her
psyche like a primitive brand. A violation like that is deeper than a simple
betrayal—it’s a defilement of a girl’s understanding of love.
And that is a
serious, serious thing to defile
, Kip thought.
When it happened to Kip it had changed her. She’d felt a
chill in the background of her relationships ever since. Sometimes when she was
lying in bed next to William, she feared that maybe she couldn’t love anymore,
not really. Not in the earnest, exuberant way she’d loved Dylan when she was
that eighteen-year-old Kip back in Dalton Run.
She gripped the steering wheel tighter and glowered,
thinking she really knew how to pick ’em.
William had turned out to be a
complete jackass and her hot fantasies of Dylan notwithstanding, he’d managed
to stomp all over her “first love” for him.
Her eyes scuttled around the familiar scenery that seemed
frozen in time. The night that she and Dylan had slept together back when they
were eighteen she’d driven home along the same road, taking her time, singing
her favorite songs at the top of her lungs. In her youthful, naïve mind, all
she could think of was how she and Dylan were going to be together every chance
they got and maybe now he’d be her boyfriend. Maybe he would actually take
their relationship public and she could walk down the school hallways holding
hands with
Dylan Johnson
.
Then she’d gone to school the next day and found that yes,
indeed, he’d taken their relationship public, only not in the way she’d been
hoping.
Kip took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on the road,
trying not to let the memories come, but they came anyway.
She and Dylan had kept their “relationship” a secret up
until then, mainly because Kip had been afraid if she told anyone about their
make-out sessions that he’d never kiss her again. But she’d realized quickly
that morning at school that he’d told
everyone
, or at least he’d told
someone
,
who’d spread it like wildfire. By lunchtime she was the school slut.
