It Takes Two (18 page)

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Authors: Erin Nicholas

BOOK: It Takes Two
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“But we’ve been together so much,” she said. “We’ve been so close and so…everything. Don’t you think you would know if something was painful or hard for me?”

She’d been sore after sex with him once in a while. The wilder they got, the more she felt it. Certainly some of the stuff they tried required her muscles to stretch in ways they didn’t like to stretch. But it was worth it. He was worth it.

“Do your feet or legs hurt when you dance in your heels?” he asked.

Oh, boy. She knew where this was going, but she had to be honest. It had been so hard keeping this from him. It was a relief to have him know. “Yes,” she admitted.

“Does your head hurt after we’ve been at the country bar until midnight?”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“Do you feel like you were hit by a truck after about five hours out on the river, tubing and playing volleyball and drinking beer?”

He’d gotten a lot of reading done. “Definitely.”

“And I never noticed. I never knew.” He sounded pissed again. “So saying that you must not have been hurting during sex because I didn’t see it doesn’t mean a damned thing.”

God, this was such a mess.

A sign caught her eye and Isabelle signaled to exit. She pulled onto the ramp, took a right at the stop sign and a minute later pulled up to a car wash.

“Give me six bucks,” she told Shane.

He shifted to reach his wallet even as he said, “Suddenly your car is too dirty?”

She fed the bills into the machine, pushed the button for the super deluxe package—the one that would take the longest—and stripped off her shirt as she waited for the lights to prompt her forward.

“Iz?”

She looked over at him, but didn’t answer. Instead she unhooked her bra and tossed it into his lap, then took her foot off the brake and eased into the car wash.

Once they were inside the stall, the doors shut and the spray started, she lifted her butt, unzipped her capris and slid them and her panties off, leaving them on the floor.

“Iz, what—?”

She climbed into his lap, straddling his legs. “I have had to push myself having sex with you, Shane, but it’s because I’ve never wanted a guy—I never knew I
could
want a guy—like I want you. The only reason it’s a challenge is because I want it to be as amazing for you every time the way it is for me. Because I want to experience everything there is to experience. Because I want to be the best you’ve ever had.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed close, sealing her mouth over his.

Shane’s hands gripped her butt, squeezing, then slid up to her waist, pressing her against his erection as he lifted his hips. The rough denim against her bare clit caused sparks of pleasure and she moved against him again.

The car rocked gently from the car wash spray.

She lifted her head and grinned at him. “I don’t know how long this wash cycle is. You ready?”

He lifted his hips again, his arousal more than evident. “What do you think?” He slipped his hands down to her ass again. “How about you?” He kept his hands moving until the pads of both middle fingers met, then slid into her.

She gasped then groaned as his fingers filled her. “Yes. God, yes.”

It amazed her how fast it could happen. They could be laughing and talking with their friends about football one minute and the next Shane would say something in her ear or touch her leg just right and she was hot and ready and willing.

It was definitely addictive. She loved the rush he gave her. The way he made her feel like he couldn’t get enough of her. The way he looked at her and talked to her and touched her. She never knew sex could be like this. But she loved every second of it. That addiction was what had pushed her to try new things, to constantly make things new and exciting, to work to shock him once in a while. Because she wanted him to feel everything she felt—the need, the heat, the I-could-go-all-night-and-still-want-more.

Bubbles coated the windows, running down the glass in rivulets.

“Unzip me, babe,” he said gruffly, stroking in and out.

Pleasure shivered through her. She also loved that he was going with this. He wasn’t trying to talk her out of it, he wasn’t trying to slow her down or tell her it was crazy to pull over and go at it in a car wash. He was as willing and ready for it as she was.

She complied, unbuttoning and unzipping his fly, then parting the denim to stroke her hand up and down the hot length of his shaft.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Nothing gets to me like the way you touch me, Iz.”

Her heart expanded at that. She loved that she could do that to him, that she could make him feel good, that she knew how to touch him. They were in the midst of hot, spontaneous sex, he was praising how she turned him on and she was, stupidly, feeling sentimental. She almost laughed at how silly that seemed, but just then he leaned forward and took one of her nipples in his mouth.

She moaned, squeezing him in her hand.

He knew her, knew her body. He knew that sucking on her nipple while stroking over her g-spot like that would get her going and that if he wanted her to come all he had to do was swirl his thumb over her…

“Shane!” she cried as his thumb swirled over her clit.

Then he swirled and pressed again while sucking hard and she came apart.

It was that easy for him. Every time.

Panting, his fingers still inside her, she scrambled to move his underwear out of the way as the windows were washed clean by the spray nozzles on all sides of the car.

He moved his fingers only when his cock was free and she shifted closer to sink down on him.

He groaned as she took him, sinking to the base of his shaft without pause, his fingers digging into her hips.

Isabelle paused, absorbing the feel of him. Shane was a big guy. When he was inside her she felt every inch. It was why he always made sure she came first. He stretched her to the point that if she wasn’t completely primed and slick, it could have been painful. But she loved it. She loved that when he moved she felt it clear to her toes. She loved that each stroke rubbed along every nerve ending she had and made her feel more alive, more aware, more connected than she ever was without him inside her. She loved that when he came she felt the pulses dance up her entire spine.

“We’re on the spot-free rinse, babe. Better get a move on.”

She glanced out the little windows in the car wash door that separated them from the outside world. “No one’s waiting.”

He leaned in and flicked his tongue over her nipple. “Maybe that’s not the only reason I want you to move.”

She smiled and flexed her inner muscles. “Like that?”

He groaned. “God, that’s good.”

She grinned. “If you like that, check this out.” She tightened her muscles, then lifted herself slightly, sliding along his cock.

His head fell back against the headrest. “Heaven. That’s heaven.”

She lifted and lowered herself, her limbs getting heavier and warmer as pleasure washed over her with each stroke.

Shane reached up, his hand at the back of her neck, while the other rested on her hip. He flexed his butt and pressed her down even harder and deeper with each downward stroke.

“I love when you’re on top,” he said roughly. “I love watching your breasts bounce and seeing you take me, feeling all that wet heat suck me in. But I wish I could flip you over right now and pound into you.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. She loved that too. She had to really relax to take him that way. When Shane got riled up and took over, she sometimes just had to take a deep breath and hold on tight, but she loved when he spread her out or bent her over. She loved making him lose his mind. However, when she was on top, she was more in control. She could set the pace and control the depth and pace of the penetration.

Okay, so her muscles did get in the way sometimes of full-out, any-way-you-want-it sex. But it always worked. It was always amazing.

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, moving up and down on him a little faster. “The front seat of a car is kind of made for me on top.”

“Yeah…unless…”

Shane reached down beside the seat and pulled the lever that allowed him to shove the seat as far back as it would go. “Lean your elbows up on the dash, babe,” he told her, lifting her up and off of him, then turning her before she even realized what he was doing.

She put her forearms on the dash but looked back over her shoulder. Her forehead was going to hit the windshield. “I don’t think…”

But he put a big hand on the back of her head and pressed until she was resting her cheek on her arms. “Shane…”

“This will do,” he said, then he gripped her hips and brought her back down on his cock.

Holding on tight, he was able to thrust hard and deep and fast, pistoning in and out.

And just like that the show was all Shane’s.

She gasped, then dug her fingers into her arms. God, it was good. She always bounced between intense pleasure and anxiety when Shane took control. She trusted him completely. All she had to do was say no or stop or wait and he would. But she didn’t want that. He always made sure it was good for her; her body craved his and she knew from her reading and studying that the orgasms she achieved with him were something to be cherished. She didn’t want to slow him down or make any adjustments. But her body instinctively tightened at having someone stretch and stimulate her to the extent Shane did.

He continued driving into her, his ability to get leverage even in the bucket seat of her small car a testament to how strong he was—and how much he wanted it.

He needed to hold on to her though, pulling her against him with each thrust, to get as deep as he wanted to go, so through gritted teeth he said, “Your clit, Iz. Do it. Come again.”

She wasn’t sure she could even move but she managed to reach down and circle her clit. Intense pleasure shot through her, her nipples tightened, her toes curled and, amazingly, she felt her body soften and open to take even more of him.

“Yes.
Dammit
.
Yes
,” he praised.

She kept rubbing, otherwise completely at Shane’s mercy.

And he kept thrusting.

Until she felt his cock grow even harder inside her and she detected the change in his breathing that signaled he was on the verge of climax.

“Isabelle,” he panted. “Damn. Yes. God.”

She came again, clamping down on him, heat streaking through her body.

Then he shouted out and came as well, pulsing into her, holding her tight against him.

She was already slumped forward on the dash, so she let her body sag, trying to catch her breath.

After a moment, she felt his hand run up and down her back.

“Damn, girl.”

She looked over her shoulder. “And the car is shiny clean now too. Multi-tasking at its finest.”

He chuckled and she felt warmth spread through her chest. That right there was exactly why she kept doing this. Okay, she had to work to relax a little when things got wild and her muscles would be feeling this in a few hours. But sex with Shane, and making him happy, was worth it.

“Someone is going to eventually come along and want to get in here,” he said, swatting her butt and shifting to move out of her.

She crawled into her own seat and they both worked on cleaning up and getting fully back into their clothes.

They pulled out of the car wash a few minutes later and got back on the highway.

Shane waited until they were again traveling west at sixty-five miles per hour to say, “It seems to me that we have a disproportionate amount of oral sex.”

She swerved slightly. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve never analyzed it before because, well, I
love
oral sex—giving and receiving—but it does seem that we do more of that than anything else.”

Oh, boy. Shane was a smart guy. A really smart guy. And he was in tune with her, that was for sure. She should have been expecting him to take the fibro information and figure a lot of other stuff out.

“I’m sorry but I left my complaint box back in Omaha,” she said with a frown. “I’ll make a note, though, about you wanting fewer blow jobs.”

“Not complaining. Love the blow jobs.” He stretched his legs, then propped one ankle on the opposite knee and balanced the book about fibromyalgia on his lap. “Just noticing.”

“Well, notice things quietly,” she told him. Did they have to talk about every single tiny detail of how the fibro affected their relationship? Especially the parts that were Shane’s favorites—the partying and the sex? It was like rubbing salt in a wound. It already hurt but the more he delved into it, the more obvious it would become that this was going to be hard to work through. Of course, that was part of the point of the trip.

“I think you’ve done a lot of sex research so that you’re always in charge.”

Yeah, she’d already known that keeping Shane quiet wasn’t going to happen.

Where was that maroon SUV? Couldn’t they have a high-speed car chase over the pendant or something?

“I think that you keep coming up with this hot, spontaneous sex stuff because you like to be in charge. And I think it’s because it feels better when you’re controlling things.”

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