Toeing the Line (The Complete Serial) (5 page)

Zane drummed his fingers against his leg, while he waited for Riley to answer the door. It was a good bet she was home. Her car was in the parking lot, and they were meeting Kenzie for dinner in a couple hours. He told Riley he’d stop by early so they could just hang out for a little while. Still, no response to the doorbell or his knocking.

He hated to see her hurt, and it was worse when he knew he caused it—like the hurt reflected on her face after they left the bar two nights ago, when he couldn’t bring himself to open up. Unfortunately, some reminders from his past were difficult to deal with. For instance, all the bad decisions he made while he was deployed, or every time he chose a challenge over what he knew was right.

Knock a third time, or call her? Oh, right. He grabbed his keyring. This would take some getting used to.

He pushed into the condo and locked the door behind himself. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he spun toward the kitchen. Riley sat at the table, sketchbook in front of her. Earphones in place, she was oblivious to the world. He followed the curve of her body, from toes against the floor, up her bare leg, to where her thigh rested on the foot tucked beneath her. She wore a button-down shirt with only the middle two buttons done up, and possibly nothing else. Her half-dry hair hung around her face, as though she’d gotten out of the shower and forgotten to finish dressing.

She shifted her weight, and her shirt pulled open at the top, revealing a round, firm breast. His blood pressure kicked up a notch, and his cock throbbed. Her offer from the other night rushed back to him, taunting as it had so many times over the past few days. Fuck. She was tempting. Her cheeks were flushed with inspiration, and though she was half-exposed, she was still statuesque. Her focus made her that much sexier.

He really shouldn’t be staring. He adjusted his jeans, doing his best to hide his reaction, and knelt next to her. She hadn’t brought up the casual sex offer again. He’d have a hard time turning it down if she did, but it wasn’t his place to mention it.

She had on more than just the shirt after all, though the plaid men’s boxers peeking out from underneath did nothing to relieve the insistent
throb below his waist. He ignored his arousal and rested a hand on her arm.

She almost jumped out of the chair, before she focused on him. Her hand flew to her chest, tugging her shirt farther open and offering an amazing view of her sun-darkened skin. “Holy shit. You scared the hell out of me.”

He forced his gaze to her face, unable to hold back his laugh at her reaction. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” She tucked her legs under her again, covering more of her body with the shirt.

Not that the gesture did much to stop the teasing images racing through his thoughts. “I kind of am.”

She tugged him to his feet. “Have a seat.”

He dropped onto the padded chair
next to her, trying to be subtle about adjusting himself again. A tiny smile still danced on her lips, and he didn’t know if it was because what he was trying to hide was so obvious, or because she was still half-lost in her drawing. She gave him one last glance before turning back to her work. “How’d the interview go?”

His arousal limped away at the single question. “Not as well as I hoped,” he said. He hadn’t even made it past the company’s screening process, because he had no civilian experience or a degree to back up his claims. They hadn’t said so specifically, but he heard it in the interviewer’s voice over the phone and the way the conversation all but died when Zane mentioned his only experience with network security had been overseas for the military.

“I’m sorry.”

He pulled her sketchpad toward him, wanting to talk about anything that would keep him from dwelling and ruining the night before it started. He widened his eyes at what she’d been working on. It was the character she said was based on him, with a wiry man kneeling in front of him. And both of them were naked. She hadn’t told him she was drawing
yaoi
—male-on-male graphic novel pornography. “You drew another guy sucking me off?”

She let out a short laugh. “Since when are you a prude? Besides, it’s not you. It’s a drawing that happens to be built like you. I already told you that.”

He should be offended or something, but the tease on her full lips, and that she’d drawn him naked in a compromising position—even if it wasn’t one he was into—made his pulse race again. “I just don’t get it. Why do some girls get off on two good looking guys groping each other?”

“I’m not getting off on it. And you’re better? You’ve never fantasized about two women together?”

She knew the answer to that. She’d described it for him over chat, at least half a dozen times. The memory of the images she painted with words made his dick perk up. “That’s different,” he said.

“How?”

He provided the only answer he could think of—the truth. “Because one turns me on, and the other doesn’t.”

She planted both feet on the ground and scooted her chair closer to his. She nudged his knees apart, rested her elbows on her legs, and traced a line along his inner thigh. “If it doesn’t do anything for you, what are you right now?”

As hard as he had ever been. He couldn’t completely keep his gaze off her chest and the fantastic view down the front of her shirt. He drew a finger along her collarbone, eliciting a sharp gasp. “I think that has more to do with you than your artwork.”

“I thought you liked my drawing.”

“Your skill is borderline erotic; it’s true. The subject matter, not so much.”

Mischief danced behind her eyes, and she increased the pressure against the inside of his leg. “You’re telling me, if you’ve got a women you’re wild about, and she wants you and another guy at the same time…”

He grimaced—not at the idea, but because he was having a hard time focusing on anything but her touch and the gorgeous curves in front of him.

“Let me finish.” Her voice was sultry and smooth. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t enjoy that at all? One of you between her legs, pounding away, and the other over her mouth, stroking himself, her tongue flicking out to caress his skin? That image doesn’t do anything for you?”

It was hard to tell which visuals were doing what. All he knew was he’d need some sort of release before dinner. He was seconds from telling her exactly that, if it meant she’d help. “I’d rather be alone between your legs, eating you out.”

A flush spread over her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away. “I wasn’t talking about me, and I call bullshit.”

“Oh?” They’d had similar discussions before. Normally one of them backed down before things escalated, but his rushing blood and rock-hard erection wouldn’t let him drop things this time.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, still stroking the inside of his thigh with her thumb. “Guys who insist they like giving oral better than receiving it only say so because they’ve never gotten a good blow job.”

Fuck. What he’d give for a chance to prove her wrong. Or—hell—prove her right. “Tell me it’s not the same for you. Maybe you’ve just never had a guy who knew what he was doing.” He trailed off, half-expecting her to blow a fuse at the suggestion. When she raised her brows instead, he kept talking. “Besides, I never blame the girl. It’s just harder to get me off orally.”

“Bullshit. Again. I could so prove you wrong.”

Every inch of him roared in response. The thought of her lips wrapped around his cock was almost enough to make him come on the spot. “Too bad we’re not in a position to do that.”

“You look like you’re in the perfect position to me. You never gave me your answer the other day.”

She still remembered. That saved him the stress of bringing it up. “About?”

“You know what about. Call it
friends with benefits
, if you want.”

It didn’t matter what they called it, as long as they kept the rules in mind. “It’s completely separate from our friendship.”

“Of course. We’re both okay with it, and neither of us assumes it will or won’t happen again. This is now, and every other moment is its own thing.”

Yes, goddammit. Yes.
He forced his tone to remain even. “Exactly.”

“So the rules are simple. I bet I can get you off orally and you can’t do the same. You name the prize.”

“A screaming orgasm.”

“You’re on. Who goes first?”

He slid from his chair, done negotiating. He nudged her legs apart, scraping his fingers along the bare flesh of her inner thighs. Sharp cherry mingled with the scent of her sex, and his thoughts swam. He kissed up the soft skin, the pain of anticipation straining against his jeans, when she moaned and arched her back. He glided his lips up one leg and down the other—from knee to knee—never moving past the edge of her shorts.

She whimpered and slid her butt forward in the seat. “You’re a tease.”

“And?” The need in her taunt made him smile.

“And nothing.” She gasped when he kissed higher. “Just saying.”

He lightly scraped his teeth over the cotton covering her mound, gliding his tongue along the fabric and over her covered slit. She whimpered again and shifted her hips closer.

He hooked his fingers in the elastic waist of her shorts and tugged. She lifted her ass off the chair long enough to let him slide the clothes to the floor, before she dropped back in her seat, legs spread. He groaned at the sight in front of him. “Jesus. You’re gorgeous.”

She flushed and ducked her head.

He traced the outside of his finger along the edge of her pussy, his moan at how wet she already was mingling with hers. The promise of her taste taunted him, but he had a point to prove. His touch light, he parted her lower lips and followed a trail back down. Her skin glistened in the light.

He kissed up her leg until his mouth finally reached its destination. Her sweet taste hit his tongue, and his thoughts short-circuited. Better than the fantasy. Fuck. He wanted to bury his face down there and make her scream until she was hoarse.

Her breathing increased, and her hands rested on the top of his head. When he licked her clit, her gasp filled the room, and her hips bucked. His cock pressed against his jeans, begging to get in on the action, and he ignored it. He wrapped his lips around her swollen sex, and she cried out. The new sound drilled into his head and jolted his dick. He flicked his tongue back and forth over the button, sometimes nipping lightly with his teeth.

She gyrated against him, her hands locked at the base of his neck. Part of him wanted to drop his pants and slide inside her, but even more, he wanted to hear her come like this. Wanted to taste her and feel her against his mouth when it happened.

He teased the edge of her entrance with his finger, still licking. Her whimper at the light contact melted into a loud moan when he pushed two fingers inside her. Jesus, she was tight. He wondered if he might get off just from doing this.

He sucked harder on her clit, hooking up his fingers as he glided inside her.

She thrust forward again when he hit the right spot. “Fuck, Zane. God, yes.”

Her breathing came in short gasps, and he nipped at her again, her sweet taste and the lack of blood to his head making the room swim. He pushed his fingers hard inside her. The thrusting of her hips grew to a frantic pace, and she held his head in place. Her ass rose off the chair, and her pussy clenched around his fingers as she came, squirming and driving against him, and groaning until he didn’t know how she could still breathe.

Finally, she slumped back against the chair with a soft sigh.

He wanted to be smug, but even more, he wanted to bend her over the back of her seat and feel her tight pussy around his dick. Before he could decide, she stood, pulled him to his feet, and kissed him deeply. Cherry mingled with her juices, and he swore the remaining blood rushed from his head. Fuck, he wanted her.

She pulled away, face flushed and eyes still heavy with want. “You were incredible.”

He smirked. “Told you.”

She nudged his shoulders, and he dropped back into his chair. She slid her fingers down the front of her shirt, undoing the few buttons holding it on, and dropped the clothing off her shoulders.

He couldn’t pull his gaze from the gorgeous sight—the round tits, the curve of her hips, and the smooth spot between her legs.

She fell to her knees. “My turn.”

The husky tone of her voice made his cock pulse harder. She made quick work of his belt, fingers brushing his bare waist as she undid the button on his jeans. “That really was amazing.”

She pulled down his zipper, and he whimpered at the release in pressure. He groaned loudly at the skin-on-skin contact of her soft fingers working his shaft free from his boxer briefs.

She stroked him. “You’re big. You never thought to mention that?”

The compliment might have warmed him at any other time, but now it was the last thing on his mind. “Show, don’t tell. Right?”

She laughed and dropped her head, lips hovering less than an inch from his cock. He watched the deliberate, sensual movements, his pulse screaming. Her breath was hot against his skin.

“You don’t mind”—she moved her lips up his length, still not making contact, and slid her free hand down her chest—“if I feel us both up. Do you? I wouldn’t ask, but that thing you did with your tongue…” She looked up at him, her lip caught between her bottom teeth. “Just the thought of sucking you off… I’m still hot.”