IOU Sex (5 page)

“You’re so warm and wet,” he said. “So fucking tight.” I squeezed his cock with my inner muscles and he let out a low growl. “Careful. I’d like to make this last a little longer.”

I smiled, liking how hot I made him. Me. Fiona Carlisle. I leaned forward and kissed him. His hands swept over my ass and cupped the cheeks. He thrust a little harder and a littler faster, his cock stroking my pussy, hitting all the right spots.

Dragging my mouth from his, I said, “You know how I like it.” My hips rocked in time with his.

“Yeah, I do.” He rolled me onto my back in one swift move, our bodies still joined.

He repositioned himself, hooking the undersides of my knees with his forearms and spreading me wide. On his knees for extra leverage, his hips jerked forward and back, pushing his cock deep into my pussy before pulling out slightly and plunging back in.

Hard and fast. Precisely how I wanted it.

Everything inside me lit up like a pinball machine about to hit a high score. I palmed my breasts, squeezing and pushing them together. Then I played with my nipples, rolling and pinching their hard tips as he fucked me.

“Christ,” he groaned again. “Watching you makes me even harder.”

“You like when I touch myself,” I said as one of my hands slid down my belly to my mound. I rubbed my clit with the pads of two fingers, setting a fast pace that matched the bucking of his hips.

“Come with me inside you.”

I was already close. He fucked me with a bit more gusto, thrusting deep into my wet cunt. I couldn’t quite keep up with him. As though he knew this, he brushed aside my fingers, replacing them with his.

I let out a sharp breath of air as he rubbed my clit with more pressure than I’d applied, more determined to get me off. I palmed my breasts again as the tension built inside me.

“Yes,” I mumbled. “Oh, yes. Just like that.”

He jolted my body with his quick thrusts and I raised my hips to meet each erotic blow.

“Harder,” I said as the wave of sensation rose. “Fuck me harder.”

He stopped rubbing my clit and instead cupped my ass cheeks with both hands. Holding me steady, he hammered into me, driving me wild. Making me lose all control.

“Yes, yes, yes.” It felt better than I’d remembered. Better than anything I’d ever experienced. “Oh, God. I’m going to come.”

He let out another primal growl.

“Fuck my pussy. Fuck me hard,” I said.

“Goddamn.”

A couple more quick thrusts were all it took for me. The wave crested and slammed into me, making me cry out. “Michael!”

He continued pumping in and out of me as my cunt milked his cock. The intense sensations kept my arousal at its peak.

“That is so good,” I said in a breathless voice.

A few moments later, his hips jerked a bit more forcefully. He grunted. His body tensed and then convulsed as his cock surged inside me. “Oh, fuck, yeah,” he said as he came. “Jesus.”

I clutched him tight, hoping to prolong his orgasm. Give him as much pleasure as he gave me.

He let go of my ass and rested an elbow next to my hip. “That’s it,” he whispered in my ear. “Squeeze my cock.”

His other hand returned to my clit. He rubbed the sensitive knot slowly as his hips rocked in a languid pace. The fireworks went off inside me, sparking another orgasm that hit me as he took my nipple in his mouth and sucked on it.

“Michael.” My fingers gripped his biceps. I held on tight as my back arched and my cunt continued to clench and release his thick shaft.

He always gave me that last one. When I caught my breath, I said, “Show off.”

He chuckled, his Scotch-laced breath teasing my nipple, keeping it taut. His tongue flicked over it and my stomach flipped.

“That was amazing.”

“Always is with you,” he said.

“You’re the one who did all the work.”

“Hardly.” He slowly withdrew from me, groaning as he did. “Felt like you weren’t going to give me up.”

“It’s with much reluctance.” Already, I felt a void. I still wanted him. Kissing me, making love to me, saying sexy things to me.

With a sigh over how much that complicated things, I dragged my legs over the side of the bed and stood shakily. Laughing, I said, “You made me weak in the knees.”

“Serves you right for being so thickheaded.”

I gave a little half snort. “Please. You’d have been bored with me a long time ago if I weren’t so difficult.”

“Not with that tight pussy of yours,” he said. I glanced at him over my shoulder and he winked.

“Such a flirt.” I shook my head as I ducked into the bathroom and tidied up.

I was washing my hands when he came in. He stripped off the condom, washed his own hands at the double vanity and gargled a little mouthwash. After he spit it out, he lifted his head and caught me staring at him in the mirror. He grinned. My stomach fluttered.

He straightened and, without saying a word, clasped my hips with his hands and lifted me onto the countertop. He spread my legs and knelt on the floor between them. My breath caught as his fingers opened me and his tongue flicked over my clit, again and again. So very wicked!

I positioned my hands behind me, on the counter, to steady myself. He licked my pussy and suckled my clit. Clearly, I was destined for an abundance of sexual bliss this evening.

“Christ, that feels so good,” I told him.

He worked a finger into my pussy. I lifted my hips slightly off the counter as he finger-fucked me while continuing to flick his tongue over my clit.

“Michael,” I whispered. My head fell back on my shoulders. My nipples were hard again, a prickly sensation dancing around the areolas and tight buds. “I’m going to come again.”

He stroked me a little faster, inside and out. The climax that burst inside me made my hips jerk and a sharp cry fall from my lips.

I barely had a moment to catch my breath when he withdrew from me, dragged me off the counter and then whirled me around to face the mirror.

“Look at how stunning you are,” he murmured in my ear.

I didn’t know what to say. My reflection revealed a woman with rosy cheeks and slightly swollen lips. Mussed hair and sparkly eyes. Whatever
he
saw, I was grateful he liked it. The desire in his soft blue gaze made my heart stutter.

“You have to embrace this side of you, Fiona. This free bird you’ve become. See how special you are inside and out, so that you can walk into that party tomorrow—and every other family event from now on—with your head held high. Knowing you are the person
you
want to be.”

I had to fight back the tears again. Not to mention the rush of emotion he so easily evoked. I stared at Michael in the mirror and wondered if I hadn’t just fallen a little bit in love with him.

We showered and then ordered Chinese after our stint in the bathroom. I wore Michael’s white button-down shirt, and he had on his faded Levi’s. Nothing else. He was damn sexy. His hair was a damp, tousled mess he didn’t bother straightening when he answered the door and collected our food delivery. I poured fresh cocktails and we settled on the sofa again, the fire still burning in the hearth.

“I wonder why Chinese is such a great after-sex meal,” I mused as I dug my chopsticks into the chicken chow mein. We were curled up on the couch together with a half-dozen white boxes spread out before us on the coffee table.

He said, “Probably because you can order a ton of it and not look like a pig. Stick it in the fridge after each round and it just gets better each time you heat it up.”

“Fuck, eat. Fuck, eat. Fuck, eat. Nice pattern.”

“Good way to burn off the calories too. I’d rather have sex with you than hit the gym any day of the week.”

I smiled. “And I absolutely cannot afford to put on any weight tonight. The dress I bought for the party will reveal every extra ounce.”

“Describe it to me.”

I finished chewing and said, “Red and clingy. Short, short hem. Off the shoulder. Low dip in the bust area. Very provocative.”

He whistled under his breath. “Sounds like a hot number. You’re not pulling any punches tomorrow, are you?”

I shrugged. “Can you blame me?”

“I still can’t believe you’re going.”

“Well, I am. And so are you. You promised.” We resumed eating until I wanted the duck. “Ready to switch?”

We exchanged boxes of food. Funny how we had these little rituals. I’d never thought much about it, but he’d known exactly what Chinese food to order tonight without having to ask. He’d opened a bottle of Chardonnay earlier, knowing my favorite type. He knew what drove me wild in bed. Knew my family. Knew my drama.

All of this made my heart constrict. He knew me better than anyone. I tried not to dwell on that fact, though. I still wasn’t sure what was happening between us tonight, and I wasn’t ready for further exploration.

Instead, I said, “Tell me about this last road trip. Where’d you go?”

He set aside the chow mein and reached for his drink. “Pacific Northwest. I rode the coast up to Seattle. Took photos of Oregon and Washington. I considered riding up to Vancouver, but this book showcases American sights only.”

He liked to take pictures of well-known landmarks, parks and monuments, but his specialty was off-the-beaten path landscapes. He found the most interesting and breathtaking natural features all over the world.

“How long before you have the book wrapped up?”

“Couple of months. I’m toying with what to do for my next book, once this one’s out of my hands and with the publisher. Likely a trek through New Zealand.”

“Sounds exciting. I hear there’s amazing scenery there.”

“After that, it’s Italy. I’m boning up on the language.”

Frowning, I said, “Those sound like very long trips.”

“Wanna go with me?”

I laughed. He didn’t.

He crooked a brow at me and asked again, “Wanna go with me?”

“Michael,” I said, giving him an incredulous look. “I have a company to run.”

Not to mention, spending several weeks in New Zealand or Italy was definitely not something just friends did.

He gave a nonchalant shrug, apparently undeterred by my excuse. “You haven’t taken a vacation all year. You could probably use a break.”

He had me there. Still, there was that other matter to consider. “You really think we’d get along, traveling with each other for extensive periods of time?”

He grinned. “We’d be great together.”

My eyes narrowed. “Did you have a near-death experience on your road trip? You’re acting very strange.”

He set his Scotch on the coffee table, along with my box of half-eaten duck. He stretched out on the cushions, with me between his legs, my back resting against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, and he slowly unbuttoned the shirt I wore.

“Take this into consideration,” he whispered in my ear in his ultrasexy voice.

He pulled the material of the shirt apart and firmly palmed my bare breasts. Liquid fire flowed through my veins as he massaged and kneaded, then toyed with the hard nipples.

“Michael,” I whispered back. My pussy suddenly ached for him again.

“You and me,” he said in a low voice, “exploring different countries by day. Getting naked with each other by night.”

His fingers tugged lightly on my tight nipples. I moaned.

One of his hands slid down to my bare mound. His fingertips stroked my pussy lips as his tongue flicked my earlobe.

“Think about it. Next summer. It could be one hell of a good time.”

“Too far off to think about right now,” I said, taking the easy way out. “I’m more interested in the good time we’re having tonight.”

He chuckled. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Mm. Very much.”

The pads of his fingers targeted my clit, rubbing slowly until my hips started to gyrate. He picked up the tempo. His other hand alternately massaged my breast and teased the nipple.

“You’re hard,” I said. His erection pressed against my tailbone.

“Told you. Getting you off turns me on.”

“Turns me on too.”

His finger dipped into my pussy then went back to work on my clit. The juices from my wet cunt made the pads of his fingers glide easily and quickly over the bundle of nerves. I writhed against him as he rubbed me feverishly. My pulse raced and my heart hammered. Soft whimpers fell from my lips as he pushed me up, up, up. Way up.

Another glorious climax erupted deep inside me, making me call out, “Oh, Lord.”

“Goddamn.” He groaned. “I am so hot for you.”

I shifted so I could face him. He stripped the shirt off me before I went for the buttons on his fly. The flickering flames cast shadows and light across the ledge of his pectoral muscles and rigid abdomen. I bent my head to his bare skin, running my tongue along the grooves of his stomach. Then I moved upward and flicked a nipple. He squirmed beneath me.

“So sensitive,” I murmured as I licked the small bud. His skin was slightly salty.

“Let’s just say, you shift me into sensory overload. Without much effort, I might add.”

“Good to know.” I dropped more kisses along his chest. I covered his erection with my hand. The shaft strained against the briefs he wore. I gently massaged his cock then cupped his balls. His hips bucked and he let out a low hiss.

“Touchy, touchy,” I joked in a soft voice.

His muscles bunched as though he were restraining himself. I liked the idea that he might be close to losing control and jumping my bones.

He said, “Feel free to have your way with me.”

I gripped the material of his jeans where the buttons had been undone. “Lift.”

I worked the denim down his legs, followed by his briefs. When he was naked, I stared at his sculpted physique. How he ever found time to work out was beyond me, but he was clearly religious about it. My gaze roved his body. A little thrill chased down my spine at the thought of pleasuring him. Of being the one he wanted to pleasure him.

Running my tongue along my bottom lip caused him to grunt.

“You’re eyeing me like I’m the Last Supper,” he said.

“You do make me terribly horny. I mean hungry,” I corrected. Silly me. I was practically tongue-tied.

He grinned. “Be my guest.”

I wrapped my fingers around his wide shaft and gave a long, full pump of his cock from base to tip and back down. Then I covered the head with my mouth and it slid along my tongue.

He let out a sharp breath. “That’s it. Suck my cock.”

I did. Hard. My head bobbed up and down as I fucked him with my mouth. He gathered up my damp strands of hair, whisking them away from my face.

“Oh, yeah,” he said in a strained tone. “That feels damn good.”

I released him and instead licked his sac then very lightly suckled it.

His breathing was heavy. More groans slipped from his lips as my tongue glided up his shaft and then my mouth covered his tip again. I took him deep, sucking him hard. His hips lifted off the sofa and the fingers in my hair tightened a bit around the strands. I increased the sucking pressure as I cupped his balls with my hand and massaged them the way he’d shown me the first night we were together.

That always did the trick for him. Sure enough, one more deep-throated suckle and he called out my name as he came. I didn’t release him immediately. I let him savor the moment. When his hips lowered and he was settled against the cushion again, I moved away.

Licking my lips, I asked, “Enjoy yourself?”

One corner of his tempting mouth lifted. “Such a smartass.”

“Just making sure.”

“I think you got your answer.”

Indeed, I did. Feeling triumphant and light of heart, I said, “You didn’t hold out for long.”

“Can’t help it. Watching you go down on me makes it impossible to stay in control.”

I handed over his Scotch before I put the Chinese food in the fridge and then made a trip to the restroom. I snuggled up with him on the sofa again, settled between his legs. He draped the throw over my naked body. The fingers of his free hand combed through my hair as he sipped his drink. I watched the fire for a few moments before my eyelids dipped. I stifled a yawn as my head rested on his chest, but I couldn’t stop myself from falling asleep.

I was in his bed when I woke up. I vaguely remember my eyes drifting open when he’d moved us from the sofa. Then I’d promptly fallen back asleep. Now, the smell of fresh-brewed coffee and eggs made my lids snap open and my stomach growl. I threw the covers off me just as he walked through the large, doorless frame that separated his master suite from the living room.

He carried a tray and had the morning paper tucked under his arm.

“I do like that you feed me on a regular basis,” I told him.

Settling into bed next to me, he said, “I want you horny, not hungry.”

I laughed at the reminder of my verbal bobble last night. “Doesn’t take much to make me both when I’m with you.”

I dug into the eggs and sausage as he opened the paper, setting aside the sections I always read first. This made me falter for a moment, and I set my fork aside. We’d experienced the same thing last night, having our Chinese food ritual. He knew what to order and we both knew what the other liked to start with before we switched. The realization of how in tune we were with each other was both endearing and disturbing at the same time. The latter being a natural reaction to the fact that I wouldn’t have noted any of this if it didn’t bear some significance. The revelation alarmed me, of course, though I fought the twinge of anxiety. Forced it down so we could enjoy our breakfast together.

Afterward I put my clothes back on and told him, “I have to get ready for the party.”

He eyed me curiously. “It’s only ten o’clock in the morning.”

“Yes, but this is one of those occasions when I have a lot hair and makeup to do. We should leave around one forty-five. I want to be about twenty minutes late.”

His brow furrowed. “You’re never late.”

“This time, it’s necessary.” I had my reasons, despite promising my mother I’d be on time. “I want everyone to be there when we walk in.”

“Plan to make a spectacle of yourself, do you?”

“You’d better believe it. They’ll be expecting the poor, dumped fiancée.”

“Instead, they’re going to get hot stuff in a red dress. A party girl ready to have a good time, to hell with the bride and groom.” He gave me a wicked grin that made me so thrilled he understood my plight—and was right there with me to see this crazy plan through.

It was a simple one, admittedly, but there were still a dozen different ways it could backfire on me. The most obvious being that my mother would flip out and demand I drive back into town to buy something more appropriate to wear.

Not a chance.

I said, “I’ll be ready by the time you arrive. Just buzz me on my cell if you can’t find a parking space and I’ll come right down.”

“Don’t forget the overnight bag.”

I stared at him. “Michael.”

“Fiona.” He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “The deal was the whole weekend.”

More I.O.U sex. I’d be lying if I didn’t get a kick out of the idea. In fact, excitement shimmied down my spine. My clit tingled with anticipation.

“Fine. I’ll pack a bag.” I turned to go. Over my shoulder I said, “Thanks again for doing this.”

“Thanks for agreeing to my terms.”

Hard to say who was in for the most trouble—him at this party, or me come Monday morning. A whole weekend with him. I knew my body would be sated, but what about my heart?