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Authors: Cari Quinn

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BOOK: HotText
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He let out a baffled laugh. “That’s not what I meant. I
picked up condoms. Hell, I’m not used to discussing this so bloodlessly.”

“Better that way, don’t you think? Less room for
misunderstandings.”

“I suppose. I meant…emotionally. You won’t cry or something
after, will you?”

“Depends.” She smiled as she reached up to unbind her hair.
“Don’t give me a reason to cry and we should be fine.”

“Not on the agenda.”

She looped her hairband on one corner of her easel. “Good.
Never been a fan of crying.”

“How about screaming?”

“Never had anything to scream about.”

He watched her pull apart her braid, seemingly fascinated by
each loosened hank of wavy, dark hair. “Open to changing that?”

Chapter Three

 

It took Karyn a minute to formulate an answer. Acting sexy
didn’t come easily to her. Or it hadn’t in the past. Right now she felt more
natural than she ever had before.

“Maybe I could be persuaded.” Oh, could she ever. She gave
him her best saucy smile, though she had no clue if the attempt worked or fell
flat. “With enough incentive.”

Jeff gave her a grin that lit up his truly magnificent eyes.
He angled his head, lowering his mouth while she rose up on her toes to meet
him.

“And we’re off,” she murmured.

She expected an easy kiss. Good, perhaps, but not intense.
He seemed like a low-key, moderately passionate person. As she’d been, without
the right stimulation.

Without
this
.

What she got was a glancing blow of lips that soon turned to
a furious meshing of mouths and teeth. It wasn’t elegant. It was messy and
rough and God help her, bordered on dirty.

“Open up for me,” he grated.

She parted her lips, her head tipping back as he drove
inside. His tongue was hot and insistent, almost as much as the body he pressed
to hers. The length between his thighs dug into her stomach, solidifying the
reality of the situation.

He was as hard as a steel beam. For
her
.

If they hadn’t been kissing already, she would’ve thrown herself
in his arms. Here was what she’d been missing so desperately—a reminder she
wasn’t just a discarded wife, a teacher, a woman with an empty home to tend.
Even if she’d forgotten, he’d seen the truth inside her just begging to be set
free.

“Mmm, latte. Peppermint, espresso.” He pressed his lips
together as if sealing her flavor between them. “On you, bitter tastes good.”

She would’ve blushed normally. But his avid perusal made her
bold and she found herself straining toward him for more.

He reached behind her to untie her smock, drawing the fabric
away from her body before she fully noticed what he was doing. When the
material crumpled at her feet and he roamed his hands up her rib cage to cup
her breasts, she had no trouble following his moves. Her nipples hardened more,
drawn toward his fingers as if by magnets. She gasped when he tugged them both
simultaneously, arousing a flush of heat that encompassed her from head to toe.

“Perfect size.” Then he showed her just what they were
perfect for.

He closed his lips around one taut tip, his teeth providing
a welcome hint of pain. He repeated the action on her other breast. Never
before had her flesh been so thoroughly examined, so completely consumed.
Adrift, she rocked against his muscular thigh, seeking something to quell the
growing ache.

“Feels good?”

“Incredible.” She knew she was panting and didn’t care. “So
hot.”

“You definitely fucking are,” he said with his mouth full of
her breast.

His words scorched her skin, adding to her inner inferno.
She dampened further, the fabric between her legs soaking through
embarrassingly fast. As if on cue, he reached between their bodies and rubbed a
finger against her, groaning as he discovered what she already knew.

Her leggings were toast.

“Not a screamer, huh? Gonna prove you wrong.”

She startled as he jerked his mouth back to hers. He didn’t
bother with niceties, just thrust his tongue deep while he yanked down her
pants.

Even prepared—well, she
thought
she was prepared—she
moaned at his first seeking touch. It was winter. She shouldn’t be burning up
like this. But already she craved what he intended to do next. Whatever that
happened to be.

Jeff kneeled before her and skated his lips down her torso
to her navel. He swirled his tongue in and out, bathing her in streaks of wet
sensation. But he didn’t head straight for the goal. Instead he eased back and
blew lightly, stirring her thatch of wet curls. She shivered, bracing her hands
on his shoulders. He drew her pussy lips apart, spreading them while he traced
the tip of his tongue around her swollen clit.

Another glancing blow. The man excelled at them. Any more
and she’d be coming more quickly than…
ever
.

“Wish you could see this,” he muttered.

She looked down in alarm. “What?”

“All this.” He blotted up the moisture along her slit,
lifting his glistening fingers for her inspection. She stared, unsure what she
should do. Her being wet was a good thing, right? But he seemed to be waiting.
For what, she had no clue.

He swore under his breath and clasped her painfully distended
nipple, working the sensitive flesh until it gleamed like a wet black cherry.
The sight aroused her, especially when he rose up and sucked it between his
teeth before resuming his original task.

She pressed the indents around her nipple, shocked by the
zings of heat that arrowed through her. They streaked straight to her clit, the
place currently occupying her lover’s attention.

Her lover. God. How long had it been since she’d known the
simple joy of having one of those?

Too long. Even if that reminded her she shouldn’t
have
lovers because she happened to be married—in name only—it didn’t diminish the
fluttering in her chest. This wasn’t hurting anyone who hadn’t already hurt her
and then walked away.

Jeff gripped her thigh and anchored her leg on his shoulder
while he licked from her mound all the way down to near her ass. She held on
tight and wiggled at the continuing bursts of warmth, her hips flexing
uselessly with the need to be filled.

“That’s it. Fuck my mouth.”

She tentatively stroked the curling hair at his nape, her
explorations turning more daring as he latched on to her clit and drew hard
enough to make her vision spark. The flower on the canvas beside her seemed to
pop with color, the oranges and yellows bleeding together and pulsing with life.
But no,
she
was pulsing, inside and out, her ass cheeks clenching from
her instinctive attempts to hold his tongue inside her pussy.

“Not like this,” she whispered, pulling on his hair more
roughly than she’d intended.

He lifted his chin, setting it on her belly. When she saw
all the moisture smeared around his lips, she inhaled a shuddery breath.
“Sorry. Didn’t hear you. Head’s about to explode,” he said, his tone reverent.

She smiled, shocked she could while she was so embarrassed
and overwhelmed. And aroused.
Especially
aroused. “I’d like to feel
your,”
say it, dammit,
“cock inside me when I…when we…”

Luckily he rescued her from the most pathetic command ever.
“Works for me.”

“My bedroom’s just down the hall,” she began.

He stood and crossed the room to retrieve his plastic bag.
It was only then she noticed he’d yet to remove a stitch of clothing.

Some lover she was. She’d thought Lon was selfish?

“Fuck the bedroom.” He arched a brow as if he expected her
to argue. “We’re doing this right here.”

“Is fuck your favorite verb?” Karyn asked breathlessly as he
came back to her, condom in hand.

Make that condoms. He had a whole handful.

“Verb, adjective, adverb.”

She licked her lips as he shucked his sweatshirt, tossing it
aside without a care for where it landed. The thermal was next, then his jeans,
which he dispatched in about ten seconds flat. Down to just his boxers, he
hooked a finger in the waistband, grinning at her inability to look away. He
pulled them down slowly, baring his firm cock. His firm, long, thick cock.

Even when she’d fantasized, what she’d come up with hadn’t
ever matched this reality. She’d never envisioned a sexy, borderline grouchy
guy with a glint in his eye and an erection this tempting. Surely a guy
couldn’t get
that
hard if he saw her as just a run-of-the-mill
schoolteacher.

“Adverb? How can you use fuck as an adverb?”

“Easy.” Jeff wrapped his arm around her and rubbed his foil
packets against her back in wordless promise. He nibbled her lower lip, biting
down. She cried out at the sensations that rolled through her, gathering
between her legs in a molten rush. “Hear that? Well, that’s just the start. I’m
going to make you come so
fuckingly
hard your neighbors are going to
hear you scream.”

She reached up to trace the smile lines around his mouth.
“I’m really not a screamer.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Jeff,” she started, surprised by the way his nose flared
and his jaw tensed as if she’d jabbed him with a sharp stick. Maybe she had.
His pride anyway.

“Karyn,” he countered, his expression turning intense. “God,
I love a challenge.”

He guided her toward the window seat and pressed her face
first against the cold glass, making her throw her hands out to hold herself
back from the icy pane. She always kept the curtains tied back to let in
natural light. Nothing would hide her nudity from view if anyone happened to
walk by outside.

She was naked with a stranger. Naked with a stranger in
front of a
window
. What the hell was she thinking?

But that was the whole point. She wasn’t thinking. Much. And
God, it felt great.

Her nipples stiffened in the sudden draft as he pushed her
closer to the window. Freezing air wafted over her blazing-hot torso and she
cried out again at the difference in temperature.

“Get on your knees.”

She almost started to argue before sense prevailed. Why
would she argue against something that would probably feel amazing? She trusted
him to bring her pleasure. He’d taken her further already than she’d been in
years.

Karyn kneeled and closed her eyes, envisioning how she must
look. Nude, hands slapped against the glass. Though she’d eagerly abandoned
most rational thought, she couldn’t help imagining what elderly Mr. Nelson next
door would think if he made the mistake of looking at her house at the wrong
moment. But why would Mr. Nelson—or anyone else—be up at almost one a.m.?

When Jeff kneeled on the window seat too, she forgot all
about her neighbors. He’d somehow managed to fit behind her and now his thighs
cupped hers, his rough hair scraping her sensitive skin. They were plastered
together, sharing the same insufficient air. The same seductive scents of their
mutual arousal. With their bodies flush, his cock seemed weightier against her
back. More likely to give her those screaming orgasms he’d promised.

Without hesitation, he nudged his cock between her legs,
sliding through her abundant wetness. Making more from just the movement alone.
She glanced up, catching his reflection in the glass as he tore the foil packet
with his teeth. Teeth that had already done such wonderful things to her body.

He sheathed himself, cursing as his fingers fumbled, and
then finally the crown of his erection poised at her entrance, barely slipping
inside. Whether he meant to taunt her or give her time to adjust, she didn’t
know.

She sliced her fingernails into her palms.
Relax. Relax.
She chanted the mantra in her head, grateful the words didn’t fall from her
lips for once.

He inched in, slid out. Pumped deeper, pulled away. Just as
her frustration swelled to a
fuckingly
epic level, he hauled her hips
up, dragging her higher before he sank all the way in, filling her so
completely she gasped.

Her flesh stretched, unaccustomed to a man after so long.
Each thrust stirred her unspeakably. More than just her pussy linked with him
when he slid into her. A little part of her heart did as well.

Stupid. It was just fucking. But she liked the giddy,
reckless feeling that came with tumbling for a man again. Wise, unwise, she
didn’t care.

In one fell swoop, wham, her recent memories of dismal sex
vanished, replaced by this shining experience. He hadn’t even really done much
yet but she knew he’d give her what he’d promised.

Poor guy. She almost felt sorry for him that he would be
forever known—in her head at least—as the man who’d helped give her back her
dormant sexuality. Who wanted that kind of burden?

He changed the angle and his groan tore through the room,
echoing in her head. Mixing with her whimpers and then drowning them out
completely.

“You like it fast?” he questioned, delving deeper when she’d
been sure he’d reached the end of the line.

How
did
she like it? Any way he could give it to her,
probably.

“Yes,” she whispered, raising her ass as he started to pound
into her. “Yes,” she said again, stretching the word out until it had about
twelve syllables.

“Oh yeah.” He grunted and jerked her up and down his cock,
his plunges accompanied by the most erotically dirty squishing sounds she’d
ever heard.

That was her. All her. Her pussy was that wet, that tight.
That completely capable of driving a man crazy. This man at least.

His harsh pants blew the damp hair off her neck every time
they joined and separated. Her inner walls squeezed him, holding him motionless
for increasingly longer moments. It felt so damn good, and God, she wanted to
come. Wanted him to come just as much.

Her fists rapped on the glass as he gave up all pretense of
civility and ripped into her harder than she’d ever been taken before. Her
orgasm swelled—her breasts aching with it, her clit throbbing. Her nerve
endings sizzled and snapped like shorted fuses. She bit her lip but a moan
escaped her anyway while she fought to match his strokes. As she met them and
urged him for more.

BOOK: HotText
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