Kismet: A Serendipity Novella (5 page)

BOOK: Kismet: A Serendipity Novella
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“The view is incredible,” she said as she
walked to the windows.

In fact, the entire apartment was a thing of
masculine beauty, with its heavy, rugged furniture facing an
oversized wall-mounted television, shelves with books and other
decorator chosen pieces, and picture frames. It was the photographs
that gave the place a lived-in, homey touch and at a glance, Lissa
recognized the various photos of Trevor’s family, his parents, his
sister and her husband, and their new baby.

“The view is the reason I chose this place.
There’s no highrise to either block my visibility or give anyone an
unobstructed look into my private space. I can leave the shades
open most of the time.” He stepped up beside her and she
immediately felt his body heat.

“Do you miss living in Serendipity? The wide
open spaces?” she asked, wondering if she could give up small-town
living for Manhattan.

“I miss some things more than others,” he
said in a deep voice.

Taking her off guard, he moved around her
and wrapped his arms around her waist. His front pressed into her
back and he cuddled her in his embrace, a feeling that made her
feel so safe and secure that warning bells went off in her
head.

But she couldn’t bring herself to heed them.
His warm breath fanned across her neck while his impressive
erection pulsed against her backside, as together they looked over
the brightly lit city.

God, she’d dreamed about this.

About the day he’d come back for her and
make everything right in her world. Except then she’d been a naïve
young woman, despite her pregnancy, still too much of a teenager to
understand what she’d done to her life. She was a woman now and
knew better than to put stock in adolescent dreams, but for this
one night and maybe tomorrow, he could be hers again. Nobody would
begrudge her some new and better memories to keep with her on
lonely nights.

Not wanting to waste a second more, she
turned, looping her arms around his neck and looking into his eyes.
“Kiss me,” she said, deciding to take what she desired—and what he
obviously wanted as well.

Trevor had been worried she’d come to her
senses and change her mind, so he didn’t need a second invitation
now. Cupping her face in his hands, he backed her against the plate
glass windows and kissed her long and hard, so deeply she couldn’t
mistake his desire. He swept his tongue inside her mouth and
everything in his world righted itself once more. He teased her,
brushing his tongue back and forth, relearning her touch, her
taste, her scent, the way she felt.

Back when they were kids, they’d spent hours
kissing as though nothing else mattered and they had all the time
they’d ever want together. Though he knew better now, he could
still kiss her for hours. Only her.

With other women, he’d rush through the
foreplay and get to the deed because, ironically, he’d always found
the preliminaries more intimate, more telling about someone’s
feelings. Post-Lissa, knowing he’d closed his emotions off, he’d
made it his mission to arouse his partner quickly and leave her
satisfied, but with no question that he wasn’t lingering before or
after. The women he was with knew the score. It was a reputation
he’d perfected, and though he wasn’t proud of it, at least he was
honest.

He was equally so now. He began to thrust
his tongue deeper into her mouth, mimicking the act his hardened
body craved with near desperation. Lissa moaned and hooked one leg
around his, arching her pelvis into him and pulling him tighter
against her. The small circles she made with her hips drove him
insane and the barrier of clothing nearly killed him.

Still kissing her, with one hand he reached
for the side zipper of her gown and eased it down as far as he
could manage. With the other, he yanked the silky material off her
shoulder.

She wiggled her upper body and the entire
gown pooled around her on the floor. Needing the visual, he finally
broke the kiss and stepped back to admire her, but no sooner had
they separated than she reached up to cross her arms and cover
herself.

“Uh-uh.” He grabbed her wrists and pulled
them away from her body. “Keep them down there,” he said in a voice
he barely recognized.

She’d always had gorgeous, voluptuous
breasts and that hadn’t changed. He brushed his thumb over her
already distended nipple and she let out a sound, half sigh, half
groan as it hardened even more beneath his fingertip. Then he did
the same to the other breast. A brief touch and it, too, puckered
for him.

Trevor grinned. “Still so damned
sensitive.”

“And yet you’re taking your time and
torturing me,” she said in a shaky voice.

“I’m savoring you.” Her entire body trembled
but he wasn’t finished. Before she could react again, he cupped her
full breast in his hand and lifted it to his waiting mouth.

Her skin smelled like peaches and she tasted
sweeter than he remembered. He savored one nipple thoroughly,
nipping, teasing, blowing cool air over the puckered tip before
moving to the other one and giving it the same care. By the time he
was finished, her head was thrown back against the window, her hips
bucking forward seeking relief.

His dick felt as if it would shatter at any
moment and for him, this part of the foreplay was over. “Bed,
sweetheart?” He held out his hand.

She looked at him with glazed eyes and
nodded, placing her hand inside his. He helped her step out of the
dress surrounding her and realized she still wore high-heeled
crystal-looking sandals, a matching pair of panties ... and nothing
more.

Her stomach, while not flat, fit with the
rest of her curves and he wondered how he’d gone so long without
feeling her surrounding him, becoming a part of him.

He led her to the bedroom, aware she was
naked and uncomfortable but doing her best not to show it. As soon
as they reached the bed, he stripped off his clothes, not wanting
to wait another second to feel the heat of her skin flush against
his. But when she reached to remove her sandals, he shook his
head.

She narrowed her gaze. “Seriously?”

He grinned. “What can I say? It’s been a
fantasy of mine, fucking you while you’re wearing nothing but
endlessly high heels.”

“You fantasized about me?” she asked,
sounding well and truly shocked.

His heart nearly stopped but the admission
was out there. “Nobody else has ever done it for me the way you
do.”

She opened her mouth and he used the
opportunity to settle his naked body over hers and stop any further
conversation. They’d have to talk, but it wasn’t happening now.

He let his weight ease against her, gritting
his teeth as he came into contact with her damp heat. “Oh, baby.”
He cupped her hips in his hand and ground himself against her.

“You don’t play fair,” she murmured, her
arms coming around him.

“Why? Because I don’t want to talk anymore?”
He braced his hands on either side of her and buried his face
between her neck and shoulder, first merely kissing her, then using
his teeth, tugging hard until she moaned and bucked beneath
him.

“I don’t want to talk, either.” She bent her
legs, making room for him. “I need you inside me.”

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes,
dying for exactly the same thing. “Do I need protection?”

She shook her head, her pretty green eyes
wide and glassy. “I’m on the pill.”

His body trembled at the thought of entering
her bareback.

“You?” she asked.

“I’m safe. I’ve never had sex without one,”
he assured her. He’d only asked now because it was Lissa, and more
than anything he wanted to feel all of her when he was finally
inside her again.

She drew a deep breath. “Well you don’t have
to worry about me, either. It’s been so long I’ll be lucky if I
remember how,” she said, forcing a laugh he knew she didn’t
feel.

He brushed her tangled hair off her cheek.
“Nobody since your divorce?” he asked her, surprised yet oddly
pleased.

She bit her lip before finally speaking.
“Nobody since not long after my marriage.”

Trevor ignored the thrill the admission
brought, knowing it was selfish to be happy she’d been so alone,
yet pleased she hadn’t been with anyone but him and the ex he
refused to think about.

Lissa sighed. “After the divorce I dated one
guy—you might remember Russ Mason—but I couldn’t bring myself to be
with him that way.”

Trevor hated talking about any other men,
but he knew it was necessary. He cocked an eyebrow in question.

“Just no desire.” She blushed, but he
appreciated her honesty and kissed her cheek. “Anyway, the
relationship ended quickly after that. Russ thought I was frigid
and frankly, I didn’t care.” She lifted her shoulder in a delicate
shrug.

Unable to hold it in, Trevor barked out a
laugh.

“What’s so funny?” She frowned at him.

“Any guy who thinks you’re frigid must need
lessons. You’re so hot you’re burning me alive,” he told her,
meaning every word. “Watch.”

Dipping his head, he licked at first one
nipple, then the next. Those rosy peaks were quickly becoming his
favorite part of her because she was so damned responsive. One
touch and she grew immediately slick and wet, which he intended to
show her. As he reached down and slid his finger through her moist
folds, her hips arched up and into him, seeking deeper
penetration.

“Soon,” he promised her. First he came up
with the proof to back up his claim. “See? So not frigid.”

Her genuine smile nearly undid him. Her
words finished the task. “It’s you, Trev. It’s always been
you.”

Unable to hold back any longer, he raised
himself over her. “I can’t promise slow and easy,” he said,
apologizing ahead of time.

“Then it’s a good thing hard and fast suits
me just fine.” She clasped his erection in her hand, rubbing her
fingertip over the moisture pooled at the tip.

He gritted his teeth, nearly coming from the
intense pleasure of her touch as she guided him toward her slick
heat. Only when he was poised at her entry did she release her hold
so he could ease his aching shaft inside her.

She was tight and hot and he tried
desperately to at least start slowly.

“You promised you wouldn’t take it slow.”
She rocked her lower body and snapped the last of his
self-control.

It hadn’t been difficult to do. Even though
he’d tried not to let himself remember them or consciously think of
her, he hadn’t lied when he’d said she was and remained his
greatest fantasy.

Chapter Four

Lissa didn’t do sex without emotion. Even
the one time, when she’d conceived her daughter, she’d been an
emotional mess because she was seventeen, turning eighteen in a few
months, tipsy, hurt, and filled with the knowledge that Brad wasn’t
Trevor. Though she often came off hard and edgy to the outside
world, inside she was one big mush afraid of being hurt.

Despite the easy banter with Trevor, despite
her self-made promise to hold on to her heart, the minute he
entered her, filling her body in the way only he ever had, he broke
down her walls and she knew she’d have one hell of a time putting
them back up.

“Okay, sweetheart?” He paused to let her
body accommodate him, the strain of holding back showing in his
face.

So did the play of emotions in his
expression telling her he felt it too—the fusing of their bodies
with no barrier between them. He was marking her and she feared
she’d never be the same.

“I’m good,” she said, concentrating on
feeling, not thinking. And he felt incredible, hot and thick inside
her. “You won’t hurt me.” To encourage him, she lifted her head and
pulled his earlobe into her mouth, teasing and tugging with her
teeth.

With a groan, he released the hold he’d been
keeping and began a steady thrust inside her. Her mind fogged. Her
body pulsed, a wave of pleasure rose inside her and she reached out
to grab it, to meet and match his rhythm, but the shoes and their
spiked heels held her back, preventing her from digging her feet
into the mattress for purchase.

She moaned in frustration, her body in
desperate need of more than the delicious glide of his hard
erection deep into her. She needed to feel him slam into her, to
make her his.

As if he knew and understood, he changed his
position slightly and adjusted his motion, twisting his hips each
time his body connected with hers. That did it. Every thrust
brought his pubic bone down hard against just the right spot and he
took her higher with each successive plunge deeper inside her.
Braced on his arms, he stared into her eyes, watching her as he
possessed her—body, mind, and soul.

Frantic to hold onto some semblance of self,
to hold something back from him, she closed her eyes and—the
delicious movement ceased.

He stopped moving completely.

Lissa cried out, digging her nails into his
shoulders, urging him on.

“Not until you look at me,” he said, his
tone harsh.

She forced her eyelids open and met his
dark, sexy gaze. “I hate you,” she muttered.

“No, you just wish you did.” And then he
began to make love to her once more.

He played her body as though he knew it
intimately, taking her higher as he grew impossibly bigger and
harder, powering into her with deep, heavy thrusts. She was wet,
she was needy, and he satisfied every craving she had, the waves of
desire rising higher in her body.

Yeah, she’d had self-induced orgasms over
the years, but they paled in comparison to having this man in
control. He slowed when she neared completion, letting her body
wind down only to hammer home harder again, building her need and
promising a spectacular climax he kept just out of reach.

She whimpered, raising her hips, clenching
him tighter inside her, holding onto him until the slick moisture
of their connection sounded in the room, an erotic accompaniment to
the music they were already making together.

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