Sugar Shack (7 page)

Catherine had endured anal sex before, but her previous lovers had been too rough. But Luke was different. He went slow, patiently waiting for her body to relax and take him in. She gasped. The further he went, the more excited she got. He held her hair tightly, comforting her with his lips and sweet murmurs as he pushed deeper.

His other hand slid down her front and slipped into her moist pussy, sliding skillfully over her swollen clit. God, so many sensations going on, she was surely going to die from it all! “Luke, ah! Oh, yeah...please! More, more!” She didn’t know what she was saying, or what she was begging for, but whatever he was doing to her, she never wanted him to stop.

He withdrew, only the tip of his cock maintaining contact, before sliding back inside her, his fingers rubbing her in rhythm to his pumping. As she relaxed more, it made his entry easier and he pushed deeper into her at every stroke.

She panted against the tabletop, her fingers clenching and unclenching with need. “So…fucking good...so…so good…”

“
Oh, yeah, babe,” he rasped against her ear. “We’ve always been damn good.” His fingers applied more pressure to the tiny circles he made on her slick clit.

Waves of warmth wrapped around her. She knew she was close but, selfishly, she wanted to keep it at bay a little longer. Nothing had ever felt so good as having taboo sex with Luke while he finger-fucked her on the table. A high moan slipped from her throat. The thought of what he was doing to her sent her tumbling over the edge. The rush of heat spiraled through her blood and lifted her to sweet release.

Her moans grew louder.

“
Jesus, you’re so sexy when you come,” he whispered brokenly against her ear.

Her pussy clenched against his hand and he pushed once more deep into her ass. The hand gripping her hair pulled harder as he tried to control himself.
“Ahhh...I’m...coming, Cat,” he ground out. His body shuddered as he let go of her tresses and grabbed her hips, holding her still as he ejaculated inside her.

He slumped across her back, his arms holding most of his weight on the table. Their breathing was labored, their bodies slick with perspiration and heat from the hearth.

Luke finally moved, standing back and pulling his jeans up from around his ankles where they’d stayed during their lusty encounter. He touched her shoulder and they made eye contact as she rested against the tabletop. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, sweetheart,” he said, concern clear in his eyes.

Catherine rolled up on her elbow, trying to get her bearings.
“No, no, Luke. You didn’t hurt me. That was great.” She stopped and tried for a better word. Great just wasn’t enough for what they’d just shared. “It was mind-blowing, actually.”

His deep breath exhaled on a whistle.
“It was fucking fantastic.” He shoved a hand through his damp blond hair.

Catherine pushed away from the table, completely comfortable in her nakedness. With a saucy smile, she looped her finger in the waistband of his jeans and tugged, compelling him to follow her out of the room.

Grinning, he followed, doing nothing more than placing his hand over hers at his waist as they went.

She led them to the bathroom, warmed by the constantly burning furnace in the corner, and closed the door behind them.
“You’re a dirty boy, Luke. I’m going to need to clean you off,” she murmured, turning on the shower.

His grin widened.
“If I’m a dirty boy, what’s that make you, sweetheart?”

“
A very happy girl,” she told him without missing a beat.

They stepped into the tiled shower and Luke closed the curtain behind them. The water felt good, surrounding Catherine in a cloak of soothing warmth. She reached for the soap, but Luke
’s hand was already there, grabbing it before her.

“
Uh uh,” he said. “I scrub your back, you scrub mine.”

In answer, she drew her dark hair over one shoulder and eased back against his hand as he rubbed the bar down her spine in a soft, rich lather.

He had great hands. She purred from contentment as his palms cupped her buttocks, washing her slowly, thoroughly. When she felt the bar of soap tease the crack between her cheeks, she gasped against the tile.

A chuckle rumbled from behind her.
“Don’t worry, babe. I’m just washing you up. I’m not going to take advantage of you.” He leaned down and kissed her shoulder. “Yet.”

A thrill ran through her at his naughty promise. He had a magical touch with her and it made her giddy with need. She turned to face him, accidentally knocking the soap from his slippery hands.

It landed behind his foot, near the drain.

Catherine looked at him from beneath the cover of her damp eyelashes.
“My turn,” she said, trailing a finger over his bare chest and down his flat stomach as she dropped to her knees on the rubber bath mat. Her finger stopped at the dark blond trail of hair descending from his navel. With her other hand, she reached around his legs and grabbed the soap. Still looking at him, she smiled, reached up and rubbed the white bar across his lower belly.

He groaned, closing his eyes.

She rubbed again and he leaned forward, bracing himself on the tiled wall behind her.

The water rinsed away the lather, sending bubbly rivers down his legs as she cleaned his stirring hard-on.

“Jesus,” he breathed, water pouring over his neck as he hung his head. “You excite the hell out of me, Cat.”

She put the soap back in the tray.
“Just wait,” she purred, kissing the tip of his cock.

Air hissed through his clenched teeth as he inhaled. He let go of the wall with one hand and threaded his fingers through her wet hair. Their gazes locked and his palm cupped the back of her head as she parted her lips, taking him deep in her mouth.

Catherine felt the shiver course through his body. She remembered how much he had loved being sucked off, and she had always been happy to oblige. Giving him pleasure was almost as good as receiving it from this delicious man.

Almost.

Her tongue rolled around the tip and down the shaft as she took him farther down her throat. In and out, in and out. His fingers gripped her head tighter, holding her still as he pumped into her mouth.

The shower cascaded, cocooning them in a warm heaven of their own making. Nothing mattered except the two of them, here and now, and it felt good.

He bucked faster, gripped tighter. She knew he was close. “Can’t...hold on,” he rasped, then moved his other hand to her head and held her hard against him, his cock deep inside her mouth. Hot, salty cum slid down her throat and she swallowed, sucking him harder as a powerful orgasm shook his body. Her pussy quivered in response. The guttural sounds he made when he came were sexy as hell.

She smiled against his cock, licking the last drops from the tip, evoking another shudder from him as he stroked her hair.

Regardless of what happened later, they would enjoy each other as long as the storm lasted. For the first time, Catherine wished for the worst weather in the history of Maple Knob, Vermont.

Chapter Eight

Catherine awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon. She rolled over and stared at her surroundings. It took her a moment to remember where she was and how she got here. Like a flood, it came rushing back to her in fragmented scenes. Even in the chilly room, heat burned her face as she recalled the sex marathon she and Luke had begun last night. It was like they were trying to make up for all the years apart. She sat up in bed, wincing a little at the wonderful soreness she felt this morning from so much lusty fun. She giggled. She didn
’t care if she was black and blue this morning, it was worth every second.

She stood and stretched, working out the kinks. Honestly, she was looking forward to more, at least until—

The weather! She ran to the window and yanked back the heavy curtains. A blanket of snow covered everything, and more was falling fast. It hadn’t let up all night. She resisted the urge to giggle and clap. If someone granted her one wish, she’d wish for this exact scenario. She threw a silent thanks to the fates for extending her stay.

She hurriedly dressed and followed the tempting aroma.

In the kitchen, Luke had just poured himself a cup of coffee and was walking toward the table. “Well, good afternoon, sleepyhead. I was wondering if you’d make an appearance today.”

Catherine looked at the clock on the wall. It read 11:24 AM.
“Technically, it’s still morning.”

He held up his cup in salute.
“Coffee’s just finished perking if you want some, and I’ve got bacon, scrambled eggs and toast.”

To say she was shocked would have been the understatement of the year—or rather ten years.
“You cook now?”

“
Always have,” he answered, sitting at the table in front of his filled plate.

“
You never cooked when we were together.”

“
Cat, we lived in a dorm. What do you cook in a dorm, other then mac and cheese and frozen pizza?”

He had a point.
“But we came here a lot.”

Luke shook his head, chewing a piece of toast.
“No way I’d ever take over the kitchen from Mom. She’d kill me.”

Another good point.

“Well, I’m starving, so I’m going to load my plate.”

He chuckled.
“Please do. We both worked up quite an appetite last night.”

She ignored the heat stealing across her cheeks as she filled a plate, grabbed a mug of coffee and sat across from him at the table, searching for a way to change the subject.
“Wow. I’d forgotten how fast these snow storms can blow in before Christmas.”

He swallowed a mouthful of scrambled eggs, nodding.
“Right before the holidays is when we get the snow that gives us the quaint look everybody knows us for. You know that.”

Oh, she knew all right. And this time she was thankful for it. She took a sip of the strong coffee to hide the smile suddenly curving her lips.

“How long have you been up?” she asked after a moment of comfortable silence.

Luke shrugged.
“A while. Long enough to check on Sapphire and crank up the gennie.”

Her eyes widened at that.
“We’ve lost power?”

He nodded.
“Early this morning. Furnace is propane, so no problem with heat, but electricity is another matter.”

Stuck in the house with only Luke to keep her warm? Sounded rather cozy.
“How long do you think it’ll last? The weather, I mean.” Secretly, she hoped the storm would linger for a week.

“
Probably another couple of days, I’d guess.”

Not bad. Two days of fantastic sex with the man would definitely keep them warm enough.
“When’s the season start again? January?”

He wiped the napkin over his mouth.
“Usually around the end of January or the first of February. Why? Are you volunteering to help me?”

A crumb of toast flew down her windpipe and she choked, coughing until she dislodged it.
“Are you kidding? Remember the last time I volunteered to help?”

Luke
’s chuckle wrapped around her like a secure blanket. “I remember we couldn’t use half the syrup we were supposed to be boxing up.”

Her laughter mingled with his.
“Yeah. Because we poured it on each other and made a sticky mess out of the entire basement. Your folks were so pissed. I thought they were going to disown you.”

His brown eyes softened as he gazed at her.
“It was worth it.”

Perspiration trickled between her breasts.
“Wanna do it again?” she asked devilishly.

“
God, if only. But I barely have any extra surplus.” He winked. “After the season, ask me again.”

Uncontrollable warmth spread across her face and down her body, pooling between her thighs. She looked away, pushing her uneaten food around the plate.
“Ah, well. I have work to do anyway. I hate to be a mooch, but do you happen to have a laptop I can borrow?”

Luke
’s eyebrow rose at that. “You’re a journalist, Cat. Isn’t it illegal for you not to have one with you at all times?”

She rolled her eyes.
“Ha ha. I have one, it’s just in the shop.”

“
So? Don’t work. You’re supposed to be on vacation anyway.”

Catherine shook her head.
“It’s more of a working vacation, I’m afraid. My editor is waiting for a story from me pronto. I’m supposed to email her a piece about Vermont.”

He rubbed his chin.
“No Internet out here in the sticks, babe. I have a computer, but it’s in the office, and…um…” He trailed off.

“
Um, what?”

“
I’m afraid to admit it’s the same one I brought to school.”

Catherine almost fell out of her chair.
“Seriously?”