MenageaDare (6 page)

“Oh yes,” she uttered, bucking as much as she could, her
feet scrambling for purchase on the hard ground.

She didn’t care if someone happened by. She’d tell them to
get lost. Remy’s mouth, oh, his clever, clever mouth, sucked her, delighting
her. The strength of his arm at her back promised he’d never let her go.

She could feel the heat of the campfire, yet she didn’t fear
a thing, not with Remy as her guardian. He could be so charming and easygoing,
but mysterious and serious about his profession.

“Take me, Remy,” she invited.

“I will soon,” he assured, turning his attention to her
other breast.

“Now,” she urged, jerking her hips to get his attention.
“All you have to do is unzip your jeans, I’ll pull these pajama pants off and we’ll
be one.”

“There’s nothing I want more.” To prove it to her, he blew
warm air on her taut nipple as he thrust into her, their clothes remaining a
barrier, although her pussy responded with a rush of feminine arousal.

“If you want it, come and get it,” she said, spreading her
legs a little wider.

“I’d have to get the pack of condoms out of my suitcase
first,” he said. “I’d rather make you come. There are plenty of ways for me to
fuck you.”

Bringing her up to a sitting position, his arm eased up some
around her back, his hand sliding around to her front. With a couple of wiggles
and some shifting, he wedged his fingers beneath the waistband of her pajama
pants. Kissing his way up her body, he caught her mouth in a French kiss so
exquisite it stole her breath.

Even as his tongue tangled with hers, his hand danced its
way to her pussy, a long, calloused finger teasing, pushing into her vagina
just a bit before drawing back to stroke her clit. Rolling her hips in unison
with his finger, she moaned as pleasure consumed her.

Remy eased back to rest his forehead against hers as his
fingers continued to rub and tease her clitoris. Pleasure, molten hot,
coalesced. Eve cried out.

“More please, please,” she begged, relieved when his finger
pushed into her, joined by another, two fingers thrusting.

“Move with me, fuck my hand,” he coaxed, his fingers working
deep, his thumb tapping her clit. He turned his hand, seeming to crook his
fingers, striking an extremely sensitive spot and nearly causing her to buck
off his lap. It felt so good!

“Remy, omigod, do that again!”

“This?” he teased, intentionally stroking her in such a way
that she felt it deep in her pussy, the intensity of sensations causing her to
dance and squirm. “Come on, give me what I want. Drench my hand.”

Caught up in being finger-fucked, Eve came in a hot,
drenching rush, leaving her shaking and breathless.

Remy didn’t free her from his lap after she came. Not Remy,
he was busy using his thumb to tease and tangle with her clitoris, purposefully
ratcheting up her need to come again.

Tension mounted stronger, breaking open in a wave of
orgasmic relief. Slumping forward, she could barely move. His arms came around
her, securing her on his lap, her heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

“Promise me something?” Remy asked a few minutes later, the
evidence of his arousal still very significant.

“Anything,” she said, reluctant to move.

“Promise not to doubt how beautiful you are to me. There’s
nothing about you I find disappointing.”

“I’ll try not to. You’re a sexy man who attracts men and
women. How do I compete with that?”

“You don’t. There is no competition. Who’s with me right
now?”

“Me,” she said.

“That’s right. Who’s my lover?”

“We haven’t had sex yet.”

“Come on, Eve, we just fucked, even if it was my fingers
getting you off.”

“You’re my lover, Remy.”

“That’s right. If necessary, I’ll change my Facebook and
Twitter status to
in a relationship with Evelyn Stratham
so everyone who
visits knows I’m taken, as are you.”

“My following is insignificant compared to yours.”

He drew back then, looking down at her. “The numbers don’t
mean anything, you mean everything. See the difference?”

“Wow, imagine that? Remy Sinclair, ghost hunter
extraordinaire, is my boyfriend.”

“I’m proud to call you mine, Eve. We’ve spent too much time
denying how we feel.”

“Think I made myself pretty clear,” she countered.

“I heard you,” he assured. “Every time I dropped you off at
your apartment after a friends-only date, I fooled myself into thinking I was
protecting you by walking away.”

“I know why you did it.”

“The only thing I did was hurt you more than I intended.”

“Let’s get beyond that and move on to what’s next for us.”

“What do you think that is?”

“Dousing this campfire, retrieving that box of condoms and
heading inside the camper,” she answered.

“Let’s get moving then. I should warn you, by morning, we’re
likely to have a few bruises and scratches,” he said, kissing her then reaching
down for her tank top and the jacket and helping her back into them.

It took a few minutes to clean up the campfire area. While
Eve put the food away, Remy filled a bucket with water and doused the fire. He
didn’t walk away until he was certain it was safe.

Once that was done, Remy grabbed one of the lanterns and
they made their way up to the bathhouse area, first trekking over to where the
giant dumpsters were located, one for compost, the others for recycling and
trash. With that taken care of they went to the bathhouse, separating briefly.

Eve found Remy waiting for her outside when she was done. He
looked so good standing there waiting for her that her pulse sped into
overdrive, a curious little pang in her lower abdomen making her giddy.

“Ready?” he asked, lantern in his right hand, his left
extended. It was as natural as breathing to walk up and take it. There was so
much she’d learned about him tonight and yet she knew there was more. She
couldn’t wait.

“Yes,” she said, his fingers engulfing hers. She was five
foot seven, but being near Remy made her feel small and feminine.

Hand in hand, they returned to the campsite. He made a stop
at his truck, securing what was inside and taking out a box of condoms. On the
way to the camper, he stopped and turned off the lantern he’d placed on the
picnic table.

At the kitchen, they stopped, brushed their teeth and
rinsed. Opening the door to the camper, he reached in to flip on a light switch
then turned off the lantern he carried, hanging it from an outside hook by the
door.

Drawing her nearer, he guided Eve inside the cozy camper.
The bed itself took up most of the space, with a small flat screen-TV, an iPod
docking station, drawers and storage places built into the walls. Two green
sleeping bags and a couple of big pillows were stored at the head of the bed.

Eve fluffed the pillows while Remy unzipped the bags, using
one as a mattress cover, though the mattress had a fresh-smelling fitted sheet
on it and the sage pillowcases matched. The other sleeping bag was folded
neatly at the foot of the bed.

There were windows on either side of the camper and two
small diamond-shaped ones above the camper-sized HVAC system. Remy cracked open
the nearest window to allow fresh Colorado air into the cabin.

Overhead, the ceiling had inlaid lighting and the camper’s
roof slopped in a gradual incline toward the headboard. It was cozy, the
perfect retreat and she suddenly wished they’d spent more time in here than in
basic hotel rooms before now.

“Eve, are you okay with everything?”

Finished making the bed and shuffling about, Remy sat back
against one of the pillows, extending his legs out. He’d deposited the box of
Trojans on a small shelf along the side wall, along with the package of
cleansing wipes she’d given to him when they climbed into the camper.

“Yes, I’m just a little nervous,” she answered.

“You’ve no reason to be. Come closer. Let’s get you out of
those clothes.”

“I can do it,” she said, more than ready to get naked with
him.

“It’ll be more fun if you let me help. Don’t be shy with me,
sugar.”

Sitting up some, he dragged his black tee shirt up and off,
chucked it and gave her an adorable finger wiggle that reminded her of Patrick
Swayze in
Dirty Dancing
when he invited Baby to dance with him the first
time.

Heart pounding, she crawled across the space, all the while
appreciating the gorgeous expanse of his muscled chest and sculpted arms.
Tattoos were inked into his shoulders, a ghost with the name of his younger
brother beneath on the left, a small castle and a feathered bow and quiver with
arrows on the right.

“Is the bow and arrow a tribute to the Wampanoag?” she
asked.

“It is. Do you like it?”

“It’s very intricate. The feathers look so soft. I love the
castle. Is it because you joined Druid Creek Castle’s BDSM club?”

“Yes, how’d you know?”

“Cassie, Sam and Morgan are members. They told me some get the
castle tattoo after Phalen Maddox does his PI thing and vets their applications
to join.”

Curiously, she noticed a yin and yang symbol on Remy’s right
pectoral muscle. It intrigued her, surprising her more because of something
Morgan told her before she embarked on her trip with Remy.

“I didn’t know you were into yin and yang, Remy.”

“I got this shortly after Blair died,” he said, brushing his
hand over the black-and-white tattoo. “He had a fondness for Bruce Lee and
martial arts movies and this reminded me of him, as well as representing the
dark and light within myself.”

“Can I kiss it?”

“Sugar, you can kiss anything you want,” he encouraged,
catching her outstretched hand and dragging her the remaining distance between
them until she was up close and personal. “Starting with my mouth and going
from there.”

“Thought you said anything I want,” she dared, dropping her
eyes to his groin. His erection remained prominent. He needed some relief.

Remy shuffled a second, a shuffling sound followed. Glancing
behind them, she saw he’d kicked off his Crocs.

“You offering to work me out with your sexy mouth, Eve?” he
asked then unzipped his jeans. The second his fly was open, his big cock became
visible.

Eve’s mouth dropped open, she’d felt it happen. She was pretty
darned sure she started drooling. From what she could see, his cock was huge.

“I will if it’s what you want,” she said.

Remy brushed his hand along his unfastened zipper, exposing
himself completely. At first she was a little taken aback, he wasn’t circumcised.

Boldly, he gripped his cock, brushing his hand up and down,
manipulating his foreskin. He was not shy about it, he was proud, natural.

“Come and get it, assuming you don’t mind that I’m uncut.”

“No, I don’t mind.” She didn’t. With the way he’d brushed
the foreskin to frame his crown, he didn’t look any different than other man,
except, holy wow, he was much, much sexier.

“You’re quiet, Eve,” he said. “We’ll slow down if you need
us to.”

“You’re a hunk, Remy. I’m appreciating what I see, trust
me,” she assured, wanting him more with every second that ticked by.

“Glad you think so,” he replied, making himself more
comfortable against the pillow by tucking one arm behind his head, the other
stroking his cock. “Eve, you’re killing me staring that way.”

She didn’t realize she’d been staring. “I don’t know where
to start. I want to kiss you all over.”

“Then I should take these jeans off.” With little ado, he
shoved the jeans down his legs, his cock looking heavy and large against his
abdomen. “Move a little closer and I’ll undress you.”

Heady with desire, Eve shifted up on her knees while Remy
removed her comfy clothes, shoes and socks, having to move around a little
until she was naked before him. Suddenly shy, she tried to cover her breasts
and mound with her hand.

Before leaving Massachusetts, she’d trimmed her pubic hair
to a small triangle to look nice in the bikini she’d brought with her on the
chance they’d go swimming during their road trip. But she wasn’t sure if Remy
would prefer her to be completely bare.

“Eve, shyness doesn’t come into our sex life,” Remy warned.
“Take your hands away. Let me see what’s mine.”

Eve arched her brow. “Possessive much, Remy?”

“This is nothing compared to what you’ll deal with if you
don’t show yourself with pride.” Pushing up on his elbow, he moved close enough
to brush her right hand away from her breasts.

“Remy…” she murmured, loving the way he gently cupped her
right breast, rubbing her nipple, rushing nothing as he repeated the pattern on
her left breast.

“Your other hand, sugar,” he insisted. “Take it away or we
turn out the lights and go to sleep.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Want to bet? Why would you be shy about this?”

“Because my father’s rich as Trump, men tend to treat me as
if I’m a porcelain doll who might break if they try something other than
missionary position with me,” she answered.

“I won’t treat you that way, Eve. I’ll bite, scratch, leave
marks, lick your cunt and fuck you every way imaginable. That’s just for
starters. Take your hand away and kneel with your thighs spread wide.”

Eve obeyed, dropping her hand and parting her thighs,
waiting. Remy’s upper lip curled, much as a tiger that’d found a particularly
tasty morsel to devour.

“Wider,” he urged, taking gentle command as he reached out
with one hand to brush it along her bare thigh, helping her.

Trembling, not from fear but from desire, Eve kept her eyes
on his face as his gaze locked onto her pussy. She felt vulnerable yet
incredibly feminine and aroused.

“If a bikini trim isn’t enough, I’ll remove the rest if you
want,” she answered.

“You’re fine the way you are. As far as I’m concerned, if
you want to go bare, do it. If you prefer the trim, keep it. It’s your choice.”

“Thank you. Can I kiss you?” she asked and he smiled,
inclining his head.

Wanting to do that very much, starting with his mouth and
working her way down, she licked her lips in anticipation. Pushing up a bit
more on his elbow, he used his free hand to stroke her hair back over her
shoulder.

He took his time, letting his fingers sift through her
locks, as if he were memorizing this moment. When she thought he might not
answer, he caught hold of her nape and brought her toward him, their mouths
touching gently then quickly changing to an impassioned onslaught of need and
greed.

Remy might have seemed amiable when he reclined on the
mattress, but there was no doubt in her mind who controlled who right then. His
fingers tightened at her nape, the depth of his kiss increased, his tongue
chasing hers, their kiss intimate, raw and sexy. Freeing her mouth, he tossed
his head back, exposing his throat.

“Explore,” he encouraged, the pulse in his throat tempting
her to take a deep bite.

Eve kissed his chin, letting her lips glide over his smooth
jaw. Remy wasn’t an overly hairy man, but he had hair on his groin, under his
arms and along his legs.

She liked that about him too. She liked everything about
Remy Sinclair.

Working her way to his throat, she discovered his throbbing
pulse, tapping it with her tongue then nipping him. Remy used the hand at her
nape to push her face farther into his throat.

Eve kissed him again, losing track of how many times she
alternated between bites and kisses. Biting turned him on, she discovered, his
legs scrambling some. He tasted faintly of wood smoke, s’mores and faintly of
apples.

“Helluva mouth you’ve got there, Eve,” he grumbled, one hand
grasping her breast to tease and stroke her nipple.

Using her body weight, slight though it was compared to him,
she pushed Remy backward onto the pillow, resuming her path down his incredibly
fit body. She loved his ripped, defined muscles and six-pack abs.

With more leverage to kiss him where she wanted, she
concentrated on his yin and yang ink. Kissing it with reverence, she followed
the circle, traced the dots, first the white side then the black. She was so
turned-on by the taste of his skin, she growled hungrily.

Remy let go of her nape, catching her hair in his fists,
tugging. “Turn yourself around and sixty-nine with me,” he suggested.

Readily, she turned herself about, facing his feet. Remy
helped her straddle his chest, his hands coming to rest on her hips, bringing
her backward as she folded herself on top of him.

His cock was thick and heavy where it lay against his
abdomen and throbbed when she wrapped her hand around his girth to play. Amazed
by the size, she studied him, trying to decipher how best to please him.

As his foreskin was already rolled down to the rim of his
glans, she thumbed the soft, paper-thin sheath. Remy’s hips bucked.

“Eve, lick me, kiss me, anything, please,” he urged, even as
warm breath wafted along her slit, a precursor to the wet, delicate slide of
his tongue through her feminine folds.