Lie to Me (12 page)

As he crashed into the wall, she laughed, but she’d mesmerized him beyond normal sensibilities. Certain he’d blushed, he turned and hurried out of the room, his throbbing cock testing him with every breath he took…

Casey, lying on her back on the mattress, ached for him. She couldn’t put it any other way. Her body flamed for him and her throbbing, damp sex pulsed, ready to grasp his white-hot cock. “Damian,” she moaned to herself, shutting her eyes. “Damian, stop torturing me.”

“Me? I tease, not torture.”

She opened her eyes and he sat on the bed, one hand hiding something behind his back.

“What?” she asked, trying to look behind him.

He presented her with a can of whipped cream, his eyes dancing with mischief and lust.

She laughed, as a thrill trickled through her. “Um, I bought that for a cake.”

Damian grinned and pressed it, decorating her intimate area with circular motions until he filled it up. She felt the chill and the anticipation. “Guess I’ll have to buy you another can, won’t I?” he murmured.

She laughed and quivered with shivers of excitement.

“Look.” He held up a strawberry. “I stole this too. Part of your cake?”

She couldn’t stop laughing and just nodded.

He plopped a few strawberries on top of the whipped cream. “Time to bone up on my culinary skills, babe.”

“You’re crazy,” she said as she lifted her head to see his grin.

He was to die for. His raw muscle, bronzed, taut flesh, and muscular form teased her vision. He looked especially sexy with soft golden waves spilling across his forehead, disheveled on top and in the back…she saw the adorable boy in the hard, charismatic man. The jagged scar on his neck gave him some bad boy appeal. Suddenly, she grabbed the whipped cream can out of his hand.

“Hey!” Damian protested. “I stole it! It’s mine!”

“Two can play at this.” She sat up, grabbed his cock, and sprayed it all over, whipped cream flying everywhere, dripping on his face and chest. “Oops. Messy,” she said and started licking it off his manhood.

He laughed and groaned, begging for mercy, and then he escaped her grasp, sliding down on the mattress until his head rested between her thighs, whipped cream clinging to his hair as he lowered his head. Holding her thighs apart with his strong hands, he licked her folds. “You taste better than strawberry shortcake.”

“Oh, shit, Damian!” she whimpered. She felt herself losing control.
His tongue. His damn tongue!

His head wedged right at the base of her sex, where he could easily reach her. She could feel his hot and heavy breathing brushing her dampness. She shivered, knowing what would come next and, by the time his rough but velvet tongue tasted her again, she felt bonfires shooting straight to her weeping, quivering womanhood. She shuddered and writhed. “Damian, it’s not fair—” Her words melted away as his tongue licked her clit as if it were a lollipop. She gasped and screamed, no longer smiling, flying out of her body as she floated on a cloud of pure, raw sensation. And then a burst of sensations exploded throughout her, and she arched, over and over again, crying, laughing, babbling his name, and slowly losing her mind.

He licked her until she thought she’d passed out from sheer bliss.

When she finally collapsed back to the mattress, her sweat-drenched skin still sensitive and humming, she emitted a contented purr, and felt wonderful.

He watched her and she semi-noticed his grin through her own blurred vision. When he held her in his arms right after that, he rocked her like a baby and spoke gently into her ear. She snuggled into his hard body and sniffed pine, musk, and sweat, loving it and loving him. She couldn’t recall if she said the words or not.

She’d barely had time to recover when Damian turned to look at her. He stared over at her, his eyes burning. “I’m still hungry.” He flashed her a devastating, wolfish grin.

She groaned, feeling waves of heat starting up again. “You already finished me off, babe.”

“That was foreplay.” He then lowered himself to her still tingling folds and grabbed a strawberry with his teeth and returned to her mouth. She knew what to do. They’d done it before. With excited familiarity, she bit half the strawberry, sharing it with him, and they both chewed a little and kissed a little, while his busy hands kneaded her screaming breasts. The kiss and his deft hands demolished her—blew her away. His lips tasted so delicious.
He
was so delicious. Her head whirled as she licked the juice off his lips and chin. He did the same to her. She could hear his heavy breathing, knew hers was just as harsh. As they licked the last of the juice off of each other, she pulled to an elbow. “My turn,” she said with the sexiest, wickedest grin he’d ever seen.

He broke into a huge smile, running a hand through his damp hair. “Fair is fair.”

Her elbows were wobbly as she sat. Drained, yet heating anew, she stared down at the handsome man grinning at her from his back. His eyes blazed the same color blue one saw in a flame. Her gaze raked him head to toe, and then fastened on his pulsating cock. Most of the whipped cream had been wiped off of it. That gave her an inspiration. Grinning, she leaped off the bed and grabbed his hands. “Come on,” she said, a tremor of shivers racking her body. She seemed to convulse. Her legs shook.
Shit. Oh, who cared?
“Dear heart, follow my lead.”

“I don’t know if I should trust you.”

“You shouldn’t. You made me lose my mind. It’s my turn to return the favor.”

He rolled over and jumped to his feet, pure naked delight. She gazed at him, her breath stopping, and then she stroked the soft light brown hairs on his chest. Breaking out in sweat, she let her eyes travel to his finely chiseled, masculine face. “Damian Ballantine, it should be illegal to be so handsome.”

He cupped her chin. “No, you’re the beautiful one.”

She ran her finger from his hairline down the side of his face. “I love touching you.”

“I can’t keep my damn hands off you. Aren’t you going to lick me clean?” he asked, fake pouting. The heat and amusement in his eyes told her that he knew damn well she would make good use of him.

“No.” She turned around, kept her grip on his large hands, and dragged him behind her. “I think you need a shower instead. I’m going to do the honors.”

“You don’t say.”

“Indeed I do.”

They entered her tiny bathroom, all blue and white, a beveled glass shower stood in the corner.

Damian halted and whirled her around almost dance style to make her face his superb male form. “Case, that stall is really small. We’re going to be crowded in there.” He shook his head.

She pulled one of her hands away from his roughened palm and dragged him inside the stall. Then, without a word, she turned on the showerhead to a light, warm sprinkle. As water cascaded on their heads, she managed to say, “The whole idea is to be too crowded.”

He nodded, playing dumb, as water darkened his hair and dripped down his face and body. “I see—”

“I can get my hands all over you in these close quarters.” She kissed him.

And he kissed her.

The water rolled down from their hair to their feet. They slid their hands all over each other’s slippery bodies and into their drenched hair. A delighted buzz raced through Casey as his lips mixed with droplets while he sucked her neck. She threw back her head and the water splashed her face and fell into her mouth. “Damian,” she whispered, pulling him closer. When he stood right before her, smiling down at her, her knees turned to jelly.

He pulled her close, and they kissed as if in a gentle rain. After a few luscious minutes, she pulled her lips away from his mouth and feathered them over his stubbed chin, into his neck, and then over one of his nipples, which caused him to tense and moan. Her mouth felt his rigid muscles, his soft chest hairs, and, as she lowered herself, the hairs around his balls and cock. She knelt, reaching for his thick, long, pulsating erection…elegant, beautiful and all hers, at least for now. “Take me,” she whispered.

He mumbled something she didn’t understand, and then took her by the arm urging her to her feet. She went to him with a sigh, leaning against him to soak in his body heat. His hands slicked down her flanks to cup her ass and he lifted her by the buttocks. She held on tight, her legs grabbing him around the waist, and he slid inside of her. As her womanhood grabbed his cock, she went weak and hot and cold and shivery and slippery and was filled with a sudden blast of pleasure that splintered her body into pieces. “Push harder, Damian. Please.” Was she weeping?

He backed her into the wall and assaulted her mouth with urgency as he plunged himself deeper and deeper inside of her while her feminine flesh closed around his cock, letting it go, and then grasping it again, and both of them made throaty, desperate noises. She threw back her head, resting it against the wall, and gasped, moaned and wept. He emptied himself inside of her several times, shuddering his need each time. She could feel her insides melting to butter as he continued to thrust inside of her, bathing her with his hot liquid as the water from the shower rained down on their heads, as if they stood in an erotic rain.

They ended up standing in the corner of the shower, the water off, both of them breathing heavily. He bent over to nuzzle her ear, one hand bracing him against the ridged glass. “You own me, babe,” he said, and she felt goose bumps as his words whistled through her. “God help me, you own me.” His hot breath teased as he spoke, and she tightened her arms around his neck as she shivered with all sorts of pleasant feelings. They leaned against the wall and held each other, his cheek resting on top of her head and her face buried into his rock-hard chest.

Finally, Damian stood up and tossed her over his shoulder. She laughed in surprise. He carried her, as if she weighed nothing, and slid her onto her bed, snuggling up beside her. He threw his arm over her breasts and groaned. “You tired me out,” he said, with a chuckle.

“Yeah, ditto,” she said, as she rolled toward him to get a good grip around his back. Her eyes opened and she watched him the best she could from only inches away. His hair looked darker, and droplets of water dripped above thick, long eyelashes and down the side of his face. His lips pressed together and turned up. She could see the beginning of five o’clock shadow, which she rubbed with her chin and cheek. He smelled of strawberries and the faint scent of musk.

As she caressed his face, she made the sound of a contented kitten.

Damian’s strong arms made her feel so safe. She never wanted to leave his embrace. He smelled and felt so good. She swore she could lay this way with him forever…

“Mooommy! Daaaddy! Daddy, you still here?”

They both jerked away from one another. Casey groaned and rolled to her back.

Damian pulled to his elbow and threw back his wet hair. “Miles,” he mumbled. “He’s going to wonder why I haven’t left yet.”

“Mommy! Daddy?” Miles called out again.

Casey glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Eleven. “Just one of us should go. If he sees both of us wet—I know he wants us back together again, but no kid wants to think about his parents—”

“I know,” Damian’s gaze lifted to the ceiling. “Plus it’ll just make Miles more certain that we’re getting back together again. So who goes?”