Power to the Max (17 page)

She was too tired not to give in, relishing the all-too-real feel of him.

“You’re naked.” He stroked the underside of her breasts, back and forth, back and forth.

Her nipples tightened, her body readied itself. She couldn’t go through another of Cameron’s lessons and opened her eyes to scatter the sensations.

The warm hand slid down her belly to the nest of curls at the top of her thighs, and the rough material of slacks shifted against her bare backside.

Cameron hadn’t disappeared, he’d never been there. Witt filled up her twin-size bed with his big body.

Max felt too cozy, too warm, too delicious, too needy. “What are you doing here?”

“Breaking through your locks again,” Witt muttered against her ear as he stroked through the curls at the apex of her legs.

“Don’t you ever sleep?”

“Got halfway home and turned around. I’m addicted. Doesn’t matter how bad you are for me. I keep coming back.”

“You shouldn’t.”

He licked the shell of her ear. “Give me a little shot to carry me through.”

Witt at her back, his erection prodding her, was too close a replay of what Cameron had done last night.

“How much of a shot do you want?”

“How much do I want or how much am I willing to settle for?”

“Whatever.”

“Big difference between the two.” His breath puffed across her hair.

She knew there was. “Well, you can’t be asking for too much since you’ve still got your clothes on.”

He nuzzled her neck, teasing her with that ongoing caress too far above where she wanted him to be. “I can take them off. Always been a quick dresser. Or undresser, as the case may be.”

It was a bit like voyeurism with Cameron in the room, but damn if that didn’t turn her on.
Go away.
She almost shouted the words aloud this time.

“Your pants are rough on my butt,” she muttered to Witt, as if it hadn’t taken her too many seconds to answer. “So I guess you should take them off.”

Witt’s laughter rumbled against her back, vibrating straight through to her chest, then he climbed off the bed. Max shivered against the cold rush of night air. It felt like a warning. Or an omen. She wanted to tell him to hurry.
Faster. Get back in and warm me up again.

“I thought you were mad at me,” she said as he nestled in behind her once more, all hot, hard flesh now.

“Way past anger. Now I’m into just plain crazy.” He pulled her leg up and insinuated his thigh between hers. “You’ve got me by the short hairs. I’m willing to beg since that’s what you seem to want.”

“Don’t beg.” She couldn’t make him do that. All right, she made him do it all the time, but she was starting to hate that she did so consistently. What could she give him without losing a part of herself in the process?

“Since you’re here,” she said, pressing back against him, “and you took off your clothes and everything, well, maybe you could, um, you know.” There, that was good. She invited him to do it. Sort of.

He laughed again and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Do you want me to ... um-you-know?”

Darnn, he was pushing at her again, and not only in the physical sense. He wanted her to beg. She took his big hand and guided him down between her legs. “Just go for it, okay.”

“Just go for it? Like wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am?” He held her open with his leg and stroked her with one finger, a little teaser that ratcheted up her breathing to pant status.

This was way too much like Cameron’s
lesson
, identical position, similar act he played on her body. She scooched away and rolled to face Witt. His hand ended up cupping her hip, holding her close, though in the small bed, she couldn’t get far away, unless she fell out the window. “Lay back,” she said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Sounds interesting.” He sidled down, pushing against her legs until she raised one and straddled him. “Very interesting.”

It wasn’t a power thing on her part. No, the move was about creating variety. Besides, Witt liked it. He thought it was
interesting
.

Cameron didn’t snort from the corner of the room. He’d really left this time, or he certainly wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity to jibe her about justification.

Moonlight trickled through the branches and leaves to sparkle in Witt’s eyes. Raising his hips, he found her center and rubbed her with the length of his cock. Her head fell back. She could come like that, with a snap of the fingers. Her body juiced up, coating him with her slick heat. Eyes closed, she felt him fumble for something on the bedside table.

“What’s this?” He held the toy truck in his hand.

Her face flamed and it had nothing to do with his cock rippling and flexing between her legs. “My birthday present.”

“Why is it right next to the bed?”

She liked to look at it. “Because you told me to put it there.” He had, hadn’t he? “And I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

His belly rumbled with a full out laugh. “Since when did you consider that I had feelings?”

“I know you have feelings.” She allowed affront to slip into her tone and a suddenly stiff posture.

He had feelings. And she damn well knew she could crush them. She’d done it, too, a few days ago when he’d revealed his worst mistake to her. He’d paid for a teenage girl he knew to have an abortion and lived to regret it when he found out she’d lied to him about being raped by her own father. Max hadn’t shown him an ounce of sympathy, but that was her issue. Nothing to do with him. The apology she’d given him later didn’t make up for the fact that she’d screamed at him to get out when he’d first made that confession. Damn, she really did not want to think about how she’d let him down that night.

“Can we not talk about this
now
?” she practically begged.

“You’re right, baby, let’s forget it.”

Max wondered if he could, but then he put the tiny wheels on her belly and drove the truck up to her breasts. Cool and rough, tiny sparks shot down to her clitoris. She really didn’t want to examine her affect on his emotions at a time like this.

“Do not make any truck noises while you’re doing that.”

He sputtered with a little-boy imitation of a truck engine, then did a wheelie around one nipple. The undercarriage scraped and tingled.

“I cannot believe you’re playing with it.”

He laughed, then drove straight down to her pubic hair. Damn, it felt good. His cock pulsing between her legs, laughter, and the toy truck rumbling above her entrance.

He grabbed her hand, closed it over the tiny vehicle. “Drive it over my cock.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding?” She almost laughed, had to bite her lip to keep from doing so.

He heaved, dislodging her, then wrapped her fingers around the truck. “Drive it.”

God, he was adorable with that twinkle in his eye and his lips curved in that sexy smile. Adorable. Once, she’d told herself that wasn’t her word, but Witt was so freaking adorable.

She drove the hard long road of his cock, executed a fast, squirrelly turn on his belly and rammed into gear straight back along the ridge of his penis to his tip. A drop of cum leaked out.

Witt sucked in a breath. “Damn. Do it again.”

“This is weird.” But she did it. He seemed to grow and harden with each pass of the truck wheels. She revved the engine with a throaty growl. “This is really weird.”

“Makes me hot.”

“I can tell.” Another drop of cum pearled on his crown. She longed to suck it into her mouth, roll it around, make him squirm. “What do you want now?”
Please, please, please ask me to take you in my mouth.

“Kiss me.” He tapped a finger to his lips as if he knew she wanted to kiss something else.

The toy vehicle’s motor died. Max stilled on his thighs. Suddenly, kissing him was scary, too intimate. She’d have been easier with taking his cock in her mouth.

He tugged her hips. She drove the truck up his abdomen, over his chest to the hollow of his throat, her body following the trail she blazed until she lay flat against him. Her lips hovered near his chin when she stretched. His gaze glittered and sparkled like a mesmerizing laser light show.

He puckered his lips. “Kiss me, baby.”

She inched a little higher, inadvertently rubbing herself along his penis.

He groaned. She crawled two more torturous inches, coating him with her moisture, then finally straddled his belly and brought her lips close to his. The truck rolled on its own, down his neck and onto the mattress, to disappear under the pillow as he arched, then pulled her to his mouth.

Butterscotch burst against her tongue as she opened to him, sucking his tongue into her mouth. Pretending to find the right angle, she wriggled against him, every part of him that her breasts, thighs, and pubis could find. A big hand clamped the back of her head, holding her to him. Being on top, she attacked, eating at his mouth, slipping in, then out, mimicking intercourse. Her nipples rubbed tantalizingly against his hard, muscled chest. With his other hand, he stroked her back, then hiked her a little higher so he could reach behind and between her thighs.

She rose a little, enough for him to slide a finger inside her. So hot and wet.
Fuck me now, Witt, please fuck me now, just like this.
She wanted him inside her so badly she strained on the edge of orgasm and need.

Talented. Like Cameron. Witt touched body parts she couldn’t imagine were within his reach. His thumb on her clitoris, two fingers deep, his tongue in her mouth, his teeth nipping her lip. She rose a fraction, took his cock in hand, and touched it to her. He took over and caressed her with the tip.

She backed up and tried to plunge. Witt broke the kiss. “Make that noise.”

“What noise?” She knew very well.

“Make it.”

“Ooh.” She gave him a half-hearted sound.

“Do a better one.” He rubbed the tip of his cock back and forth across her clitoris.

She couldn’t help herself. Her head fell back and the sound rose from her throat. “Ooh.”

“Christ, I love that.”

She did it again as he delved slightly inside her moist pussy. She moved to take him all the way.

He stopped her again. “Brought a condom.”

That’s what he’d been reaching for earlier when he’d found the toy Dodge Ram instead.

She didn’t want a condom. She wanted to feel his hot semen spurting inside her. She couldn’t have children. It wouldn’t matter. He couldn’t get her pregnant. She rotated her hips, trying to force the issue.

“Condom.” He fumbled, trying to hold her still at the same time he searched for the packet without looking.

Had she told him about the kid thing? She couldn’t remember. No, she had. She was sure. So the only reason he needed the condom was to protect himself against her. He thought she was diseased, because he knew that she’d had the occasional one-night stand with men she didn’t know.

He’d insisted on the condom the last time, too.

Max stopped fighting. An ache rushed through her body.

He took her face in his hands, forced her to look at him, the smooth, cool packet cupped against her cheek. “Don’t spoil it, Max,” he said as if he knew her mind.

“I said you could fuck me, Witt. So fuck me.”

All the sparkly glitter spilled out of his eyes, leaving them blank and dark.

“It’s not fucking.”

“Semantics. I want you inside me. Badly. Really badly. Didn’t you want me to admit that?”

“Somehow, it’s not quite how I imagined it would sound.”

She pulled the condom from his fingers. “Let me put it on.”