The Next Move (3 page)

Three

         
The orgasm Chris gave her had the opposite effect of any she’d ever had. It turned her desire for him into need. Every stroke of his cock inside her had driven her insane with desire and as soon as she climaxed, every nerve screamed for
more
.

         
Chris kicked off the last of his clothes and followed her into the bedroom. Beside the bed, he grabbed her hips and turned her around, kissing her passionately.

         
Something in the back of her mind tried to tell her this was wrong, but the ache in her pussy and the desperation in his kiss silenced her doubts. She pulled him onto the bed on top of her. This was too right to be wrong.

         
For the longest time, they simply kissed, holding each other close and exploring—
devouring
—each other’s mouths. There was nothing tender or gentle or even intimate about the way they kissed. It was, in every sense of the word,
desperate
.

         
Chris lifted his head, opening his mouth to speak, then kissed her again. The second time he broke away, he finally managed to speak.

         
"I want to taste you," he growled.

The thought of his tongue on her clit made her gasp as he started down her neck, kissing here, circling with the tip of his tongue there. His lips lingered on her collarbone, then slowly trailed kisses down to her breasts. When he sucked her nipple between his lips, holding it gently between his teeth as his tongue flicked across it, she realized he didn’t just mean he wanted to taste her pussy, he wanted to taste
her
. All of her.

         
He sucked her nipple just hard enough to border on painful, that perfect balance between not enough and too much. Her shoulder blades dug into the bed as she arched her back towards him, silently pleading for more. She moaned, the earliest shudders of an orgasm building inside her. If he could do this just by touching her nipple, she could only imagine what would happen if—
when, not if, oh God, he’s going to, I know he is
—his tongue met her clit.

         
His fingertips drifted down her side, leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps in their wake before pausing on her hip. Though his mouth drew most of her attention to the deliciously maddening way he teased her nipple, that still presence of his hand on her hip didn’t escape her notice.

         
He moved to her other nipple, teasing it just as mercilessly.

         
His thumb moved on her hip, just brushing across her skin, but it was more than enough to make her gasp. When it continued, drawing a slow, gentle line in the groove between her hip and thigh, edging dangerously close to her pussy, she couldn’t breathe. Then his entire hand moved, following his thumb’s path, and she bit her lip, certain she would come just from his hand’s proximity to her clit.

         
Now his lips moved, trailing kisses down her chest and belly as his fingertips teased her pussy. His lightly stubbled chin grazed her skin, making her shiver, momentarily distracting her from his fingers. Her attention was instantly drawn back, though, when his fingers slipped inside her, moving slowly, touching all the places that were still deliciously sensitive from everything his cock had done to her.

As he kissed his way along her hipbone, his fingers bent slightly inside her, beckoning, turning up just enough to put his fingertips right against her G-spot. She gasped as they stroked it gently, every movement sending lightning bolts up her spine, but his mouth stayed stubbornly away from her pussy. Even as he brought her closer and closer to what promised to be a powerful orgasm, he only kissed her hipbone, the inside of her thigh, anywhere but the one place that screamed for his tongue.

"Oh God, Chris," she moaned, sheets bunching in her hands. Nothing between her hips and shoulder blades touched the bed as her building orgasm threatened to levitate her entire body.

"Come for me, Kat," he murmured, his breath whispering across her skin inches away from her clit. His fingers crooked a little more, putting just the slightest bit more pressure on her G-spot, and a heartbeat before she came, he closed his lips around her clit, circling it rapidly with his tongue.

"Oh fuck…Chris…
don’t…stop…
"

He didn’t stop. Even after her orgasm rose and fell, he didn’t stop, gently circling her clit, his fingers still moving although much slower now, the constant stimulation keeping her from completely coming down from her climax. The ability to release a satisfied breath, the exhalation that signified her return to terra firma, stayed out of her reach in the same way an orgasm itself often did: Almost there, almost, not quite.

Finally, it became too much. She begged him to stop and as soon as he did, her entire body relaxed. She exhaled, closing her eyes as the room spun around her.

A moment later, he was over her, kissing her deeply with the heady sweetness of her pussy on his tongue.

"You taste incredible," he said, licking his lips before kissing her again. "I’ve been wanting to do that all fucking night."

"Then why did you wait so long?"

He laughed softly. "What do you mean?"

"You took ages to finally do it."

He grinned. "Was I frustrating you?"

"Yes, you were." She laughed.

"There was a method to my madness," he said, bending to kiss her neck as he pressed his cock against her hip. "God, you don’t know how bad I wanted to, but…"

She thought he shuddered, but maybe she did. It was impossible to tell with as turned on as she was. "But what?"

"I wanted to taste you," he whispered, pausing to kiss her. "But I wanted my first taste of you to be right when you came." He kissed her again with the same desperation from earlier, once again making her clit tingle without even touching it.

Can’t wait. Need him. Right now
.

Without breaking their passionate kiss, she reached for the nightstand, fumbling blindly for the drawer. As he kissed her neck, she cursed under her breath. It was bad enough that she couldn’t see the drawer, but she was also on her back, so her arm was at an odd angle to try to open the damned thing, let alone rifle around in it. Then, his hand was over hers, gently nudging it out of the way, his lips meeting hers as he opened the drawer. The rustle of foil against foil told her he knew exactly what she had been searching for.

         
He sat back, tearing the wrapper open and looking at her as he rolled the condom on."I think the only thing I could possibly want more than I wanted to taste you earlier," he said, lowering himself over her."Is to be inside you."

Slowly, his entire body trembling as if it took every bit of restraint he had, he pushed into her, making sure she felt every. Last. Inch.

         
In spite of the fact that she was aroused beyond belief, and the fact that he’d already been inside her once tonight, her pussy yielded to him gradually, as if barely accommodating him. His cock slid against her G-spot and every nerve ending in her body was suddenly electrified again, just as they had been when he made her come, each one awakening like a dimly glowing ember flaring back to life.

         
"Oh God, Kat, your pussy feels so good," he whispered, letting his head fall beside hers and exhaling against her neck as he withdrew.

         
With each stroke, he moved faster until he knocked the breath out of her with each deep, powerful thrust, fucking her so hard it hurt, and she begged for more. He toed the intoxicating line between just right and too much, and the more he fucked her, the more she wanted him to cross that line. She wanted too much and then some.

As her orgasm built, as every sensation reached and passed that coveted degree of too much, her cries and moans quieted, her voice making way for the silent intensity that he so easily unleashed within her. The only sounds were their sharp, uneven breaths and the bed creaking in time with Chris’s powerful thrusts. White light exploded just beyond the edges of her vision and she wanted to tell him how fucking incredible he felt, how close she was, but managed little more than a whimper when something inside her finally gave, and she came.

She gasped, her body lifting off the bed as much as possible with Chris over her, and he kept fucking her, kept driving himself into her.

         
"Oh God, Kat," he moaned. "Oh fuck, that’s…you’re…"

         
She finally found her voice. "Don’t stop, don’t stop…"

         
"I won’t, I can’t, I—" He slammed into her, growling through clenched teeth. "I can’t… Fucking…
Stop
."

Then he gasped, pulling her hips against his as he shuddered, groaning as his cock twitched inside her. "Oh Jesus, I’m coming…"

         
As one last tremor rippled through him, they collapsed together. She hadn’t even realized that her back had come up off of the bed until she sank back down to it. His head fell beside hers, his breath cooling her sweaty skin.

         
Though the palpable desperation was finally sated, finally calmed enough to let them breathe, it still simmered just beneath the surface, waiting for a touch or a kiss to reignite it.

         
She stroked his damp hair as he panted, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly.
Catch your breath, Chris. I’m not done with you yet
.

Four

         
Kat winced as she sank onto the sofa, coffee cup in hand. She wasn’t hung over; she’d had several glasses of wine the night before, but that was just enough to make her a little tipsy. Too drunk to drive, sober enough for anything else.

         
Except, evidently, using halfway decent judgment when it comes to friendships
. She shifted uncomfortably, her aching hips reminding her of everything she and Chris had done the night before.

         
She really couldn’t blame the alcohol. They were both completely coherent. He obviously wasn’t too drunk to perform, and she remembered everything with crystal clarity.

         
No, it wasn’t the alcohol. It was lust. Pure lust.

         
Pure, stupid, unthinking, reckless,
lust
.

         
Neither of them had said much that morning before he left. Just a few awkward morning after pleasantries, some small talk, the kind of stilted crap she’d expect after a one night stand, not with Chris. Not after a night with Chris, because there never should have
been
a night with Chris.

         
"Shit." She closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair.

         
Replaying the night’s events, she couldn’t comprehend how they’d gone from a casual evening of chess to a sizzling night between the sheets. She’d always been attracted to Chris, but what had gotten into her? And for that matter, what got into
him
?

         
Not that it mattered. It was done. The only thing that mattered now was the fallout, and the nervous knot twisting in her gut suggested that it wasn’t going to be pretty. She only hoped she hadn’t completely destroyed her friendship with him. A few awkward evenings and some uncomfortable conversations, she could deal with. The loss of his friendship would be too much.

         
Her cell phone rang, breaking the silence and making her jump so badly she almost spilled her coffee. Ice ran through her veins as she expected to see Chris’s name on the caller ID, but to her great relief, it wasn’t him. It was her younger brother, Dylan.

         
"Hey," she said, trying to sound cheerful in spite of her sour mood.

         
"Hey, how’s it going?"

         
I think I just royally fucked up a friendship, even if it was some of the hottest sex I’ve had in recent memory, but otherwise, peachy. You
? "I’m okay. You?"

         
"Good, good," he said. "Hey, the reason I called, a bunch of us are heading up to Whistler this week—"

         
"You’re going
snowboarding
?" She groaned, rolling her eyes. "Dylan, you can’t be serious."

         
"Why not? It’s the end of the season, but there’s still plenty of powder up there."

         
"But you
just
got out of a cast," she said. "Don’t you think you should stay off the slopes for a little while? Maybe enjoy walking around on an intact ankle before you break it again?"

         
He snorted. "Please. I’ve already missed the entire season."

         
"Yeah, because you fucked yourself up at the beginning of the season. Dylan, seriously—"

         
"Kat, relax," he said. "The doc says my ankle is fine."

         
She sighed. There was no point in trying to talk him out of it. "Just, be careful, okay?"

         
"I’m always careful."

         
No, you’re not. You’re a reckless idiot on the slopes and always have been
. "Promise?"

         
"Yes, I promise," he said, probably rolling his eyes at the same time.

         
Kat scowled. "I’m serious."

         
"So am I," he said in a tone that told her he was anything but. "Anyway, look, I’ll be gone all this week and next weekend. Can you stop by and feed my animals while I’m out?"

         
"Heidi won’t be around?"

         
"Nope," he said, a grin in his voice. "She’s coming up with us. Finally talked her into taking some lessons."

         
Great. You two can have matching casts
. "From a trained professional, I hope."

         
"Of course. I’ll be on the advanced slopes, so—"

         
"
Dylan
!"

         
"Relax, Kat," he laughed. "I know what I’m doing."

         
"Right. Okay, I’ll take care of them. Just leave a note with their feeding instructions and all of that."

         
"Will do. I gotta run, we’re heading out to buy Heidi’s gear."

         
"Okay. Love you, bro."

         
"Love you too, even if you’re a nag."

         
"Just looking out for you."

         
"Thanks, Kat," he said.

         
After they hung up, Kat let out a breath. Great. Now, in addition to all of her worries about her friendship with Chris, she could sweat about Dylan. She sipped her coffee. Every season, she told herself not to worry about him, that he would be fine, he knew what he was doing, and every season, right about the time she relaxed, he came home in a cast.

         
She went into the kitchen to pour herself another cup of coffee. There wasn’t much she could do about Dylan except hope he didn’t hurt himself again. Chris, on the other hand, required some attention.

         
Eyeing her cell phone, she wondered if she should call him. Or give it a few days. Or wait for him to call.

         
Glancing at the clock, she chewed her lip. He’d only left an hour ago, so she didn’t want to call now.
Maybe tonight. After dinner. Or maybe a bit later. Like tomorrow
.

         
"Fuck, what have I done?"

~ * ~

         
"Christ, how could I be so stupid?" Chris glared at his cell phone, hoping it would ring, but it remained stubbornly silent on the coffee table beside his chess board.

         
Hours had passed since he left Kat’s place, after they parted with an awkward hug and a goodbye with no eye contact. Hours had passed since he had the perfect opportunity to sort this out.

         
Then again, maybe it needed to rest a while. Maybe they both needed some time to think before they talked about it. If they talked about it. No, no, they had to. They couldn’t just let something like this slide into the past and pretend it never happened.

         
He sucked in a breath as another thought crossed his mind: What if she was angry? Upset? What if the longer the silence lingered, the angrier she got?

         
Shit. What do I do? Shit
!

         
He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. His mind kept trying to wander back and figure out just what had happened the night before, but he forced himself to think only of what needed to happen now. Come what may, he needed to talk to her.

         
Sooner than later.

         
But not too soon.

         
Definitely not too late.

         
"Fuck."

         
Before he could think twice, he picked up his phone and speed-dialed her.

         
Leaning back on the couch, he closed his eyes, and waited. His heart pounded as the phone rang on the other end. Each ring made him wonder if she was ignoring him. If she was looking at her phone, trying to decide whether or not to answer. If she—

         
"Hey."

         
He sat up. "Hey."

         
Silence.

         
He cleared his throat. "Look, about last night…"
Good one, Bailey. Way to think ahead and figure out something to say before calling
.

         
She took a breath. "I guess we should talk about it, shouldn’t we?" Was that nervousness in her voice? Anger? Fear?

         
"Do you—" He paused. He wanted to discuss this face to face, but would that lack of distance make her uncomfortable? Swallowing hard, he said, "Would you rather talk about it in person, or over the phone?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Do you want to come

over?"

         
Returning to the scene of the crime. This should be interesting
. "Yeah, sure. When?"

         
Another long pause. "The sooner the better."

         
"I’ll be there as soon as I can."