Authors: Michael Cain
Tags: #romantic comedy, #chick lit, #free book, #adult contemporary
The jolt this sent
thorough her, having his mouth so hot on the back of her neck, his
hands now pinching her tender nipples, and how full and thoroughly
run through she felt, it set her flesh on fire again and took her
breath away.
“Oh God, ” she
panted, pushing back against him, smooshing herself all the more
against him. She came so hard her knees shook, and her hands clawed
wildly at the counter top, grasping desperately at the edge. Yet
Kevin kept going, not letting up a bit, endlessly rocking in and
out of her, his hands roaming maddeningly about her body. Over her
shoulders, down her back, around to her belly, and on down to tease
her into moans so feral, so wanton, she felt her cheeks burn with
shame. Susan came over and over and over.
* * * *
When Kevin finally
carried Susan back to the bedroom from the kitchen, she was curled
up, naked in his arms, exhausted. He lay her gently on the bed,
climbed in beside her and pulled the sheet over them. She rolled
over, wrapping her arms about his torso, burying her face in his
chest, her breathing light and hot on his flesh as she fell fast
asleep.
Kevin was exhausted
too. And though he wanted to keep watch over her as she slept, he
drifted off to the sound of her breathing and the feel of her soft,
warm, naked body pressed against him.
Yet Kevin’s
sleep was not peaceful, not by a long shot. He dreamed of walking
up the front steps of Saint Ann’s Cathedral. There were flowers and
ribbons and balloons fastened everywhere. And the music for
The Wedding March
was just winding up.
Kevin felt a
desperate stab of fear. He raced up the steps to the church and
pulled the front doors open. His eyes couldn’t seem to adjust, and
he stumbled into the sanctuary, the soles of his shoes scratching
and clomping against the tile floor. He felt himself bump his shins
on a pew.
Finally his vision
started to came back, and he saw the packed church, the wedding
party up front, and the bride and groom, front and center. Susan
looked amazing, like a shining goddess, the light from a side
window radiating down on her, making her look all the more
angelic.
Kevin’s attention
shifted to the groom. She couldn’t marry Mark!
As his sights honed
in on the groom, he was struck to the core by what he saw.
Someone new. Tall,
handsome, blond hair that matched Susan’s own. And he was looking
at her with as much love as she was looking at him with.
Kevin couldn’t
breathe. He wanted to call out, yell that it was he that loved her,
that he’d always loved her, and always would. But he fell to his
knees, unable to take in a single breath, not one of the wedding
guests noticing, not even the bride. His Susan.
The last thing he
heard was the priest ask, “Do you take this man...”
And Susan’s voice
answering, “I do.”
Kevin woke with a
start, gasping for air, covered in sweat. He had rolled to the
other side of the bed by then, so Susan luckily remained asleep.
Kevin left the bed and walked swiftly from the room, putting back
on his discarded shorts. He moved through the main part of the
suite, and out the French doors and to the beach. There he dropped
to sit in the sand and held his head in his hands, his head
splitting.
He couldn’t live with
that...
So what could he
do?
Kevin looked out at
the dark surf, at the roiling waves, and listened for the
answer.
What
he had to
, he thought, and
felt his shoulders stiffen. He’d give her what she needed, until
Liz came, and then he’d leave, lick his wounds, and go on with life
like it never happened.
Oh
yeah, that’ll work
, the voice
in his head said sarcastically.
Chapter 8
At some point, Kevin
stumbled back to the room, and back to bed. Susan rolled over and
wrapped her arm possessively around his torso, snuggling into his
chest. He closed his eyes and let himself disappear in that
wonderful, warm comfort.
When he woke, the
room was aglow with morning light, and Susan was straddling him,
her hands stroking his chest, as her sex ground against his
hardening manhood. He was about to tell her they should go eat
something, but Susan reached back and guided him into her, warm and
soft and so wet, and it was all he could do not to howl with
joy.
She let her breasts
fall down against him, and kissed him, slow, light kisses that were
the teasing, feathery opposite of what she was doing with her hips.
Her hips churned and rolled, and somehow she was pushing him to the
edge already.
He wasn’t about to be
outdone. Pistoning his hips up into her, he threw off her rhythm,
and flicked her nipples. He felt her tighten around him, so he knew
he was on the right track. He kissed her, his kiss wet and deep,
and ravenous. As he rocked into her, ever so slowly, he squeezed
and pinched her rear, while his other hand went down the front and
he stroked his fingers in and out of her, constantly moving them to
rub the sensitive folds of her labia, to worry the quivering lips
of her sex, and to caress her long ignored clitoris.
Her arms clutch
around him, and she bit his shoulder. “Oh...my...Christ...” she
moaned as she came, trembling beside him, her breasts hot against
his chest, heaving against him as she tightened and convulsed
around him, pushing him right over the edge with her.
After a few, divine
moments with her wrapped up in his arms, gently kissing him for
what seemed like hours, Susan pressed him onto the mattress as she
pushed up off his chest, dislodging him from inside her. He gasped
and rolled over on his side to better watch her as she ambled like
a besotted drunk into the bathroom.
The shower hissed to
life, and Kevin thought about poor, naked Susan, all alone in the
shower. But for the first time in two days, he was too exhausted,
too sated, to do anything about it.
* * * *
Susan leaned
back into the hot spray of the shower, the tidal force of it
drenching her immediately. God, did she feel good. No, she felt
great. Truthfully, she couldn’t remember feeling this
wonderful
ever
.
She used the tropical
shampoo and conditioner again, and the lovely body wash. Amazing
how different, how exquisitely new a scent could make you feel.
But she knew it was
more than the tropical toiletries. It was Kevin. Having her Kevin
there with her, taking care of her, and having his body--his hands
alone were sent from God--right there, giving more than just
comfort, but bringing her back from the black pit she’d fallen
into.
Every time the wind
blew and the building creaked in the slightest, Susan felt a
thrill, looking to the shower door, expecting--no, wanting--Kevin
to come in and join her. She felt lonely, and hungry for him.
She wrapped a towel
around her and tiptoed into the bedroom. Her bed was empty. It had
fresh sheets on it.
Housekeeping was too
good here...they took the man with the bed linen!
Kevin sauntered into
the room, hair still wet from the shower, clean clothes covering up
all his lovely muscles and skin. Susan reached out and pulled at
his polo shirt. “I like you better without this.”
He backed away,
holding his hands out in surrender. “Get dressed. We’ve gotta eat
something before we die of malnutrition.”
“But I’m dying from
neglect,” Susan said, pouting. “And I have all kinds of ideas for
what to do with our morning.” She pulled the towel from around her
and let it fall to the carpet. Kevin’s eyes went dark and his mouth
went slack. “We can order room service.”
Susan moved toward
him, feeling her damp skin heat up with each step. She was standing
so close she could practically taste him. She looked up into his
handsome face, into his hooded, heat-filled eyes, and stood on
tiptoe to kiss him.
Suddenly the hotel
suite was filled with the sound of Liz’s voice.
“Mommy’s home!”
Chapter 9
Susan and Kevin
backed away from each other, both gulping, both looking guilty as
hell, Kevin rubbing the back of his neck like mad, Susan
desperately throwing on one of the hotel robes.
They stood
there for a beat, staring at each other.
So, what now?
Susan thought.
“Where the hell is
everybody?” Liz’s voice boomed as she rounded the corner and
charged into the room. She stopped and gave Susan a long,
appraising look, her eyebrows knitting with concentration. “You
look good...”
She stepped around
the room, inspecting, searching already for clues. Thank God for
housekeeping! Susan decided she would leave them a huge tip.
Finally Liz looked at
Susan again. “Too damn good. You should get dumped at the altar
more often.”
“It wasn’t the
altar,” Susan said, rolling her eyes.
Liz smiled and moved
forward, giving Susan a huge hug. “I know, sweetie. I was there,
remember?” Liz pulled back and gave Susan a mock look of concern.
“You do remember, right? I’m Liz, your best friend and personal
savior, and this…” She looked over at Kevin. He leaned against the
wall, the heat all but gone from his eyes, just watching the two of
them babble. “This is your own personal stalker.”
Kevin gave her the
evil eye.
“But thank God for
stalkers!” Liz wafted over and gave Kevin a big hug. Then she
returned and gave Susan another once over. “Let’s get you dressed.
I’m famished, and I need a fucking drink before my head explodes. I
am so jet lagged!”
“Really?” Susan
looked at her curiously. “How long was your flight?”
Liz shook her
head, her smile beautiful yet placating. “Enough aeronautical
questions. I need a ham sandwich and a Cosmo...
now
!”
Kevin ducked out the
door, and Susan went to the closet to grab something much less
comfortable to wear. When she turned back around, Liz was gone.
* * * *
Liz had entered the
bedroom, automatically taking the place over like the troops at
Normandy. Kevin couldn’t decide if he was miffed or relieved. He
wouldn’t get to make Susan cry out his name anymore. That was over.
Soon enough things would be back to normal.
But he wouldn’t get
to make her cry out his name.
He wouldn’t get to
make love to her, to make her come against him.
And yet, he did feel
some relief. That part is over. He could leave, go off somewhere
and lick his wounds, forget that he’d ever had Susan that way.
Things would be like they were before.
When they were old,
they could look back on their little trip through paradise and
smile. “What were we thinking?” she’d say. And he’d say they were
crazy, but be thinking it had been everything he’d ever wanted,
just very brief.
Years of wanting,
satisfied in two amazing days of sex. And now, how many years would
he spend wishing he could go back and relive those two days?
That’s when Liz
called him Susan’s “own personal stalker.”
He had given her the
look of death. The bitch was back! He wasn’t surprised she’d hit
him low right off the bat. At least that would never change. And
then she’d said, “Thank God for stalkers!” and had thrown her arms
around him. She’d whispered, “I’ll owe you for fucking ever, won’t
I?”
Kevin had smiled and
nodded his head, unable to speak, the shit shocked out of him. And
the thought of what he’d done--giving Susan what she’d needed, and
tasting what he knew he’d lose--not for Liz, but for Susan. It took
all his strength not to walk out of the room and bolt for the
airport right then.
He had to leave. He
stared out the window as Liz went back to babbling at Susan. He
tried not to notice Susan stealing glances at him. It is over. He’d
told himself, promised himself, that all he had to do was stay
until Liz was there.
Liz was there. Now he
could go. He needed to go. He wanted to go. Yet, he never wanted to
leave Susan’s side again.
How
pathetic.
How
fucking pathetic
, would be how
Liz would put it.
Liz said she was
hungry and told Susan to get dressed. Kevin turned, walked down the
hall, and threw his things in his duffle bag--he’d picked up so
much clothing that it almost didn’t fit. He placed it by the inside
of the door, and waited for Susan and Liz in the front room. He
called the front desk and asked them to book him a flight out in
two hours.
He would join them
for lunch, and wait until they started seriously catching up, and
he’d grab a cab and head off for the airport.
It was the only thing
he could do.
* * * *
What the hell was up
with those two? Liz sat across from them at the restaurant. They
both looked stricken as she talked to them. Susan had appeared fine
in the room, but now she had a red face and a sour expression, like
she was going to barf. And Kevin’s mouth was so tightly pressed
together, his lips had disappeared.
She’d told him he’d
be dying to get away from Susan after a couple days. All that
moaning and rampaging about another man would make him suicidal.
Looking at Kevin, at his drawn expression and the stiff way he was
sitting, it appeared she’d been right.
She felt sorry for
him, the poor shmuck. Maybe she’d throw him a roll in the sack
before he ran off to spend the rest of his days boarded up in a
monastery. He was hot as hell, and she hadn’t been fucked properly
in almost three weeks. With all the maid of honor crap, and the
gallery, and her mission to Aspen to relocate Mark’s balls to his
throat, she hadn’t had time enough for a bikini wax, much less to
hook up for a real fuck date.